Ben and Rey leave the lounge as though the decision they've made, without any input from Leia, she notes angrily, is final, as if there are no arguments left to be made at all. She stews for a moment, hands clenched into tight fists by her sides, angry retorts and protestations swirling around inside of her like wind in a storm.

"Don't let them out of your sight for a moment," She hears Ahsoka mutter in hushed tones to Chewbacca. The implication in the warning makes her blood boil. She is a well-respected member of the Rebel Alliance, a former senator, and a princess, yet Ahsoka sees her as no better than an errant youngling that must be watched with a keen eye. She storms out of the lounge. She already feels liable to combust and doesn't need any more reason to.

"Leia," a warm, calloused hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her to a stop in the hall. She rips herself from the loose grasp before even registering who the voice belongs to. Guilt pools in her stomach when she turns and sees the hurt in Han's eyes. It's only there for a moment, half of one perhaps, but it is unmistakable.

"Sorry, I didn't -" She begins, but the apology sounds flat even to her own ears and she allows it to trail off, whatever she 'didn't' is lost to the ether.

"Don't worry about it." He offers a small half-smile. "So, I figure," he looks off to the side, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, "figure we got a lot to talk about - you and I?" He says it like a question and in the relatively short time she's known Han Solo she's never seen him quite so nervous.

"I suppose." Leia agrees limply.

"We don't have to now, I guess, if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine," Leia assures him. "We should probably get it all out now, be done with it sooner rather than later." Leia realizes this is the wrong thing to say the moment the words leave her lips. Han gapes at her, surprised and a little hurt. "Sorry, I misspoke," She assures him quickly. "I shouldn't have said 'be done with it', like it's - I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not handling all of this very well." She shivers as a cold breeze, the origin of which she cannot guess, slicks down her spine.

"Hey, you're alright." Han says. He reaches out for her and hesitates, as if thinking better of it for a moment, but eventually rubs his hands along her upper arms as she continues to shiver against the chill in the ship. "Handling it better than I did - you're not even drunk off your rocker. You cold?"

"Yes, a little." Leia nods, grateful for the warmth of his hands which he has yet to remove from her arms.

"I'll check the air-con unit in a bit." He promises, his smile this time a bit warmer. "You think Ben should, um, be a part of this conversation?"

Leia stills for a moment. The air around her seems to grow, somehow, cooler, but she doesn't mention it. Instead, she nods, because he probably should be.

Ben. A complicated subject that she has no idea how to even begin wrapping her mind around. On the one hand, she feels an intense connection to him, his safety and security to her is a need like water or air, essential. He can be cold and stand-offish at times, but seems, in her opinion, generally good. He's protected her, defended her from Vader, saved her life. On the other hand, she knows that he turns to the Dark Side, that he kills his father – the very man standing before her now.

Should she tell Han? Is that cruel? Is it the right thing to do? She doesn't know. All decisions, like her emotions, slip from her grasp as easily as water.

They find Ben and Rey in the crew cabins, the former smoothing a clean shirt down his front with both hands before folding his old clothes, now crusted with drying carbonite, and placing them on the mattress of a berth.

"If I thought I could convince you to stay back, I would." He admits lowly, throwing on a dark brown bantha-leather jacket.

"I know," Rey says. "You're not alone in that. I already lost you once, I - oh!" Rey's eyes go wide when she sees Han and Leia in the doorway. "Hello."

"I was hoping we could talk, the three of us." Han says from behind Leia. He feels close and she is glad for it.

"Yeah, I guess we should." The words escape Ben like the fight leaving someone who has met certain defeat. He collapses back onto the bunk behind him with a soft thump, his shoulders hunched as if burdened by a heavy weight. Rey glances around the room and makes to leave but Ben stops her, catching her hand with his own. "I'd like Rey to stay."

"Sure – of course," Han agrees without hesitation. "She's family after all."

Rey beams unabashedly as she takes a seat beside lacing her fingers between Ben's.

"Well, I guess more people on this ship are family than aren't." Han adds with a laugh. Leia turns back to face him, begging him with her eyes to 'please be serious.' She wonders if he understands. He nods as though he does, his mouth curving downward slightly in what might be acquiescence.

Ben clears his throat. "I assume we're all on the same page now?" He cautions, looking up at them from where he sits. "Or close enough to it?"

"What? That the two of you are from the future and you're our son?" Han asks with stomach-plummeting bluntness. "Unless there's more to it that I'm missing, then yeah."

"I mean, yes, that's the basic – yes."

"Okay," Han breathes out slowly. He steps around Leia, pushing himself further into the room and leans against the wall beside her. Leia closes the door behind her back, allowing them at least a modicum of privacy on the small freighter. "Okay," he repeats. He looks down at his hands, as if the right words to say might be tattooed onto the skin there. "You're doing alright, kid?" Leia notes the muscle twitch under Ben's left eye. It's almost a wince.

"Yes, I'm –"

"He's blind!" Leia exclaims, suddenly remembering Ben's condition upon emerging from the frozen carbonite prison Vader had inflicted upon him, weak and blind, frightened but brave. She's been so wrapped up in her own problems she'd nearly forgotten. She should have asked about how he was feeling, if he was alright, but she didn't.

Selfish, a voice, one so indistinct it could be her own errant thought, or a whisper caught on the wind, claws through her mind.

"I'm fine, really." Ben assures her, assures them both. He rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. "It's gotten much better."

"Good, glad to hear it." Han huffs a sigh, a deeply tired sound. Leia wonders what he's been through since her capture. If he's been sleeping well, or at all. It certainly doesn't seem like it. "Listen, I don't know any sort of gentle or polite way to ask this question, but – were we bad parents?"

Ben's eyes go as wide as saucers and he blinks, the question clearly catching him off guard. "I – why do you ask?"

"Why do I ask?" Han repeats with a dry, joyless laugh. "Because, shit, you told me you wished that you never met us, for one."

Someone gasps aloud and it takes Leia a moment to register that it had been her. Something inside of her cracks and breaks, fractures of pain splinter along her body and a hot tear slips down her cheek. "Ben, is that true?"

"I'm really not good with words," he mutters down to the floor below his feet. "What I meant, and what I said then, after, is that I don't feel that way any longer. I was wrong."

"No," Han agrees stiffly. "Now you just think it would have been easier for us if we'd never met you – had you, I guess."

"Ben," is all that Leia can manage. She wraps her arms around her body in an effort to keep herself from falling to pieces and to stave off the cold that surrounds her. It hardly does any good. She feels dipped in frost, frozen and ready to shatter.

"I shouldn't have said that," Ben says. It sounds like an apology, almost, but it's really not. "I shouldn't have said a lot of things that I did. I was drinking. I wasn't necessarily wrong…"

"Ben!" Rey cuts him off abruptly, leveling him with a hard stare. "That's not helpful."

"What would be helpful, Rey? Lying to them? I thought you didn't want to do that anymore? I thought –" Ben stops himself this time, his tone a hair away from snapping. He looks angry, though it's still a far cry from the rage Leia saw living on his face in her vison on Bespin. He closes his eyes and inhales, holding the breath for a beat before slowly releasing it through his mouth. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "This is – not easy for me. I truly should not have said any of that."

"It's not that you said it." Leia says, her voice shaking much more than she would like. She wishes that she were calmer, or that she could fake it better. "It breaks my heart that you felt that way. That you ever did. That you might still, even now."

A pained expression crosses Ben's face before he buries it in his hands. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into his palms.

"I'm not upset with you." Leia explains. "It just hurts – I don't understand."

"Which brings me back to my original question." Han presses. "Were we bad parents? I'm not trying to – upset you or – or anyone. I just want…" Han pauses, his eyes screwed shut tight. He picks at a spot on his forehead with the blunt nail of his thumb absentmindedly. "I don't want to make the same mistakes twice – once, I guess, I don't know. I want you to be… happy."

"You weren't bad parents." Ben says quietly, his gaze still downcast.

"But we weren't good."

Ben looks up at that, his brows drawn together in irritation. "I didn't say that. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Han, please, let him speak." Leia pleads.

"You weren't bad parents," Ben repeats, perhaps in an attempt to convince them. Leia hopes that it is not an attempt to convince himself. "You both – you were busy people. You had your own lives. I didn't always necessarily feel like a part of them, I suppose." He speaks slowly, his words stilted and uncomfortable, as though each of them is being pulled from him by force. Leia notices his grip on Rey's hand tighten. "You said, before, that I looked like I was well fed and sheltered and educated, and I was. I was well provided for, certainly, but I was also very – lonely.

"I was not an easy child though, by any means. I was temperamental, moody, and didn't understand the Force which led to some – dangerous situations."

His words reek of old hurt, the kind that, if left alone, will fester and rot the heart. They strike Leia like a slap, each of them, stoking her own pain. It grows with every word, every breath, every moment. It feels as though there is no limit to it. "Ben, I'm so sorry." How she had ever allowed him to feel this way, she doesn't understand.

"Please don't apologize." He begs her, his dark eyes large and doleful. "Please."

"What do you mean, busy lives? What could we have been doing that –" that was more important than our son? Leia doesn't finish. She can't.

Ben shrugs heavily, as if weighed down. "Rebuilding the galaxy – it's demanding work. I didn't understand, then. I was always so – angry, hurt, and… scared. I didn't understand why you had to leave all the time, or why I had to be sent away."

"Sent away?" Han asks, seeming aghast. "Sent away where?"

"To train with Luke." Ben supplies flatly. "He was rebuilding the Jedi. I was his first student. I was not… happy about it, to say the least. I felt abandoned, like you simply couldn't deal with me anymore, and it didn't help that I –" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing together into a thin line. "I – it's not all your faults."

"How do you figure?" Han asks, his voice rough and slightly broken.

"I –" Ben snakes the fingers of one hand through the dark waves of his hair and grips them tightly. He squeezes his eyes closed and the muscles in his jaw tense and relax over and over. "My master had a very strong influence over my mind, even as a child – especially then, really. So many of my memories have been corrupted and twisted by his presence in my head. I'm only just beginning to untangle them. To say that the two of you were bad parents, it wouldn't be… fair." His back bows further. "I have done so many terrible things to the galaxy, to both of you. I don't want to –"

"Ben, I don't give a damn what you've done." Han growls.

"Don't say that." Ben warns. "You don't know –" he looks up, his eyes meeting Leia's. They are like windows into his every emotion. Leia thinks that he doesn't mean for them to be. They're accidentally open, honest, and raw. She sees fear there, regret deeper than she can fathom, and curiosity. He's searching her, studying her reaction to his words. She doesn't know what he finds but his eyes drift back down to his boots and he sighs. "You don't know what I've done."

"Why did you –" Leia begins before considering how to end her question. Kill your father? It's all she can think of, the scene of his confession replaying behind her eyes on a loop, like a holovid she has no control of. "Turn to the Dark Side?" She manages eventually.

"That's a complicated question." Ben sighs. "I don't – ah –" He starts and stops, chewing the inside of his cheek. "The Dark Side has always called to me. I can't remember a time when I was without it. I suppose – I don't really know how to describe it – it always felt like a doorway to me, I guess. One that was always open, waiting, inviting – inevitable. Some days it felt like I was fighting against nature or fate not to simply step through and start down the path that was waiting for me on the other side.

"The voice – my master – didn't help with that, of course. Maybe he was the one who made it feel so destined? I'm not sure" he pauses for a moment, breathing in and exhaling slowly. "Finding out about Vader only cemented that idea, that I was built for the Dark, that it was in my blood. You'd hidden it from me, that he was my grandfather, and I felt that it was because you feared I was too much like him – or would be, could be.

"I've been torn between both the Light and the Dark for my entire life. The voice, it promised that if I only stopped fighting, I would finally find peace, and then –" he stops abruptly and shakes his head before continuing. "When I did finally step through that door, it slammed closed behind me, so to speak. I was trapped by a choice that I thought was liberating. I didn't realize how imprisoned I was by that decision until much later, and by then it felt too late to go back."

"Who is this – your master, or whatever?" Han is breathing heavily, his hands balled into tight fists by his sides. "I'll wring the bastard's neck myself. Gift him a blaster bolt right between the eyes."

"I'd like to see that." Rey says lowly, wrapping an arm around Ben's back and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Piece of space junk won't know what hit 'im." Han growls.

The small, cramped cabin falls silent – terribly so. It's the kind of quiet that comes from waiting for an answer you're dreading. It's anticipatory in the worst way and it spreads far too long.

"Snoke." Rey answers when Ben doesn't, shooting him a puzzled look bordering on irritation. "His name was Snoke – is Snoke because he'd still be alive now, right?" She turns to Ben who shrugs noncommittally and her frown deepens. "Ben,"

Ben's nostrils flare and he narrows his eyes. "I am not – protecting him." He growls in defiance of an accusation that was never made – never made out loud, at least. Leia wonders if Ben can hear Rey in his mind as she can hear him. She wonders if that kind of thing goes both ways, if she could speak back if she tried.

"That's not what I was saying." Rey's tone is firm but her eyes are soft. She tucks a bit of hair behind one of Ben's ears. "You know that. I only meant that if we knew where to find him, that maybe…"

"I hardly think that sending my parents after him is the solution." It takes a moment to click that Leia is one of the parents he is speaking of. She wonders when that might stop being strange. "In any case, I don't know where he is. He'll be on the Amaxine station twenty-eight years from now, but by that point it's too late." A muscle in Ben's jaw twitches. "Snoke was my master, not my friend." There's a certain darkness to those words specifically and Leia wishes she understood. "I was not privy to that kind of information."

"I'll blow the damn station out of the sky if I have to." Han mutters, rubbing his forehead.

"I appreciate the sentiment." Ben intones, standing. "We can – we should go." He offers a hand to Rey, but she remains seated. "We can finish this conversation later, we will – I promise." He looks at Han and Leia each in turn. "We'll have – a lot to talk about, I think, but we need to go."

"I don't like this, father." Luke says quietly. Vader makes no move towards him, Ahsoka notes, instead maintaining his place in the farthest corner of the too-small room from where she stands. "I hate this." He corrects himself. "It feels wrong to stay here. As wrong as it felt when Mast-" Luke cuts himself off and looks at Ahsoka with wide eyes. She shakes her head frantically, warning off any mention of Master Yoda. Vader can not know about that. "As when I was told that destroying you was my destiny," he amends quickly.

"I understand," Vader says and oddly, Ahsoka believes him. It is almost startling how softly he speaks with Luke, and even Leia when given the opportunity. There's a gentleness that manages to break through the harsh and artificial confines of the vocoder in his mask and allows for a heart-breaking, if brief and likely unintentional, glimpse at the man beneath. "But you must stay here."

"I thought this was what you were training me for?" Luke asks weakly.

"You are correct." Vader agrees without excuse. "But, as I have already stated, you are not ready for such a test. I will not put you in danger unnecessarily."

She wants to remark that this is likely the closest Luke will get to hearing Vader say that he was wrong about something, about anything. Even when he'd been Anakin, he'd had difficulty admitting to any kind of fault. She keeps her mouth closed instead. She recognizes that there's no real need to antagonize Vader at every turn, even though she finds that she wants to. Perhaps that's a fault on her part?

He hasn't been… overly violent or threatening since joining them aboard the ship. At least, it's less than she has come to expect from a Sith. Still, he's not the same person she saw on Malachor those years ago. He's changed. The anger in him, the suffocating, icy hate that surrounds him, has lightened almost imperceptibly, though it is still very much present. He's not Anakin, she doubts that Anakin is a person that can ever exist again in the capacity he once had, but he's not not Anakin – though, maybe she's just overly hopeful.

No one is too far gone. Ben's words rattle through her skull every time she looks at Vader. That was the lesson he wished he'd learned from his grandfather, that it was never too late to turn from the Darkness. She wants to believe him so badly, it hurts, the hope pierces her chest and she knows that it will bleed her dry if she lets it go unchecked. Hope is a powerful thing, but it can be blinding as much as enlightening.

Luke sits up a little straighter and picks at the blood staining his white undershirt. He lifts it and prods at his abdomen right where he'd been shot back on the star destroyer and frowns.

"Wasn't I shot?" He asks, looking between Ahsoka and Vader. "What happened?"

"The dyad healed you." Vader answers. Luke silently mouths the words 'the dyad' in plain confusion.

"Ben and Rey," Ahsoka provides.

"They healed me?" Luke looks down at the hand now splayed across his stomach. "I should thank them." He pales a little. "They're really from the future, aren't they?"

"Afraid so," Ahsoka agrees with a small, pitying smile.

Luke laughs and it sounds almost like a sigh, but it's one of acceptance. "And Ben's my nephew. I have a nephew." He laughs again. "I didn't even have a sister a few months ago."

"That is not true." Vader interrupts brusquely. "You have always had a sister. That the two of you were separated at all was a crime. One that shall not go -"

"You know what I mean." Luke rolls his eyes.

Chewie returns a moment later and hands Luke a change of clean clothes. He explains that he couldn't find any of Luke's clothes aboard the ship, so the ones he's been given are actually Han's and might be slightly too large, but should fit well enough.

"Thanks, Chewie." Luke smiles. He makes to leave the lounge but stops just in the mouth of the main corridor and turns to face Ahsoka. "I wanted to - I'm sorry for running off the way I did. I was kind of freaking out at the time and wasn't thinking and - well, I'm sorry."

"Nearly scared me half to death." Ahsoka responds with a forgiving smile. "I'm just glad you're alright Skyguy."

She recognizes her mistake a fraction of a second too late, the word still on the tip of her tongue as she turns to stare at Vader wide-eyed. She's not sure what kind of a reaction she is expecting, anger would be fitting for a Sith, sorrow might be too hopeful on her part, the same with pride or nostalgia, but she gets nothing from him. There's no way to see his face, by virtue of his helmet, and his presence in the Force is a brick wall - impenetrable and inscrutable. She opens her mouth to say something - but what?

"Skyguy," Vader repeats tonelessly, impassioned and seemingly unaffected, if perhaps a little curious.

Luke absolutely beams at his father. "Oh, yeah! Pretty cool, huh? I've never had a nickname before - well, some of the guys down in Anchorhead would call me 'wormy', but I don't really think that counts. I don't want it to count." He laughs.

"Wormy?" At this, Vader is outraged. "Who would call you this? What are their names? That is completely unacceptable."

"It's not that big of a deal, really." Luke shrugs, seemingly unperturbed by his father's outburst. "I'll, uh, be right back, I guess." Luke says, raising the pile of clothing in his hands slightly in explanation.

Without Luke as a buffer, the lounge falls into uncomfortable silence. It's not one that Ahsoka feels particularly compelled to break, really. She doesn't have anything to say to Vader that won't end in a fight and she knows that would be best avoided for now.

"Skyguy," Vader says again, breaking the quiet on his own. He says the name slowly, carefully, as though sounding out a word he's never read before.

"I didn't mean to - it slipped out." She says. It is an explanation, not an apology. She has nothing to apologize for. The nickname is her own, she made it up, she can do whatever she wants with it - including give it away.

"It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?"

"Why should it? Why would I care?"

She wonders sometimes if he is this obtuse on purpose or if the Dark Side really has altered his personality so drastically. She wants to list all of the reasons he might care, but knows that he'll only say something along the lines of 'Anakin Skywalker is dead' or 'that time is long past' so she bites her lip instead. Her focus should be on the upcoming confrontation with Sidious, not considering just how dead Anakin Skywalker might be. That, she must save for another time.

Ben finds himself unable to meet either of his parents' eyes as he stands and extends a hand to Rey. "We should get going." He manages to choke out, but only just.

Rey reaches out gently through the bond as she laces her fingers through his, grounding him back in reality. Her presence is a soothing balm to the frayed edges of his soul.

"I understand that the two of you are upset with the current situation," Ben begins, his eyes still downcast. "I could never forgive myself if anything happened to either of you." The words feel hollow, knowing what he's already done, but he can't fix that now. As ironic as it is, given his current situation, the past is the past. His focus has to be on the present.

"You won't be born if anything happens to either of us." Han jokes darkly.

"That's not why I'm - you're my parents and I - I care about the both of you." Rey squeezes his hands in the same way the words squeeze his heart. "As I said, I've done -" he shakes his head, knowing that there's no point in reiterating all of the horrible things he's done. Learn from it or drown in it. "Please, let me protect you now."

"Yeah, well you're our son - and we're not supposed to want to protect you? I've gotta say, I've got a really bad feeling about all of this, kid."

Ben meets his father's eyes, his own already misting over quickly. Allowing his parents to face Darth Sidious, to even enter the Imperial Palace, would be unconscionable. He doesn't know how to convince them of that, so instead he simply says, "Please."

There's a somber concession that passes over his parent's faces, a miserable defeat. They are unhappy but they're not arguing with him any longer. They follow him and Rey wordlessly into the Falcon's lounge where they find a waiting Vader and Ahsoka, the latter looking immensely relieved at their presence. Vader looks the same as ever, of course, and his shields are up so tightly that his presence in the Force is one entirely devoid of emotion.

"You're all ready to go?" Ahsoka asks, standing, clearly more than ready herself.

"About as ready as we'll ever be," Rey answers.

"You're leaving already?" A distressed sounding Luke calls from behind Ben in the hallway.

He's dressed in cleaner clothes now, Han's if Ben's not mistaken. The yellow of the leather jacket is cheery but Luke's face is grim, worry shadowing his face.

"We cannot afford to waste any more time." Vader responds. Luke swallows hard and nods solemnly.

"Shit!" Han curses out of the blue, jump starting Ben's heart. He cranes his neck around in the direction of the cockpit. "Shit, wait here - don't leave yet!" He warns before running off to Force-knows-where.

"I will be in constant communication with you." Vader says, taking a step forwards towards his son. Ahsoka follows him with narrowed eyes but says nothing to stop him. "If I tell you that you must run, you will listen to me."

"Father!" Luke protests with a whine that catches in the back of his throat.

"Do not fight me on this. I will only do so if absolutely necessary. If I tell you to run you will do as I command. You will run." Vader's tone brokers no argument. He reaches out slowly and places one gloved hand on his son's shoulder. "You will be brave, and you will not look back." Luke looks up, his eyes shining. He nods even as his jaw trembles.

"Ben," Han calls out, rounding the corner and re-entering the main corridor. Hearing his name on his father's lips is, as always, a grim and painful reminder of that day, but Ben pushes past his own, secret discomfort and nods tightly in acknowledgement. "Here, I , uh - " he holds out a closed fist and grabs Ben's hand when he doesn't offer it on his own. "These have gotten me out of a few rough scrapes in the past. Won me the Falcon too, but you probably already know all about that."

Hand-warmed metal falls into Ben's open, waiting palm. He knows what he's been given before he looks down at the two golden dice connected by a thin chain in his hand. He tries and fails to blink back the insistent tears that cloud his vision as he rolls one of the die between his thumb and forefinger, the metal smooth and solid in his grasp. They won't disappear. Not this time.

Ben's never had much faith in luck. Whatever lucky star had blessed his father, it had always seemed to Ben that he had been born under its opposite. Like with many things, his opinion on that has changed.

The last time he held these dice Rey had closed the door on him, in more ways than one. Luke was dead and the relief and vindication that Ben had expected had never come, unexplainable guilt and a deep, echoing hollowness greeting him instead. His mother had fled - from him, his empire, his people. His father was dead by his own hand. Forgiveness had seemed impossible and peace lightyears away.

He pulls Rey into his side and presses a kiss into the hair at the top of her head, a reminder that she is here and of how much has changed in a relatively short amount of time. She radiates warmth and Light, bolstering his soul. Between her easily-given love and his father's truly undue kindness, Ben thinks now that he might be the luckiest person in the galaxy.

"Thank you," He says, every ounce of will in his body commanding his voice to remain firm. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Figure you all could use all the luck you can get, you know?" Han says gruffly, something that Ben realizes only now, after nearly thirty years of being Han Solo's son, might just be a mask to cover up emotions slightly harder to deal with than indifference or anger. How much else has he misinterpreted?

He wraps his arms around his father and pulls him into a quickly returned embrace. He sobs a wordless apology into Han's shoulder.

It's likely selfish the way he whispers, "I love you, Dad," but he needs Han to know in any reality that he can manage that it's true and he may never have a chance to tell him again. Han says nothing but his arms tighten around Ben measurably and his breathing stutters. He's not sure who pulls ways first, himself or his father, but in the end it doesn't matter.

He slips the dice into the right breast pocket of his jacket and pats the lump in the leather once to ensure they are secure. "Thank you," He repeats, his voice warbling a bit more this time, "but we should…"

"Go now? Yeah," Han nods, inhaling sharply in what sounds almost like a sniffle. "Yeah. May the Force be with you, and all of that."

He hangs back with his parents to take the rear of the group as they collectively head towards the ship's entry ramp. Ben is pulled to a stop by a hand fisted in the fabric of his jacket. He turns to find his mother staring up at him, her eyes and the Force around her wild and electric with anxiety.

"Ben," Her voice is a low, deep rasp. "There's something I saw… I have to ask you… I…" she trails off, biting her lower lip nervously. Ben feels his heart meet his feet on the floor of the Falcon. He nods, encouraging her to continue even as he braces himself for whatever question she might ask. Part of him feels that he already knows, but he just can't quite bear to think of her seeing that, and the thought of having to answer that question, that why? Impossible.

She surprises him. "Why did you not grow up on Alderaan?"

Ben's lips part slightly as he tries to make sense of the question, the synapses in his brain misfiring at every turn. He forgets, more often than not, that Alderaan is still around. That fact goes so against his knowledge of the universe that his brain tends to refuse to process it.

"You told me yourself that your mother grew up on Alderaan, but you did not." Ben continues to gape dumbly as Leia pressed on. "Rey mentioned the same thing. You've never even visited?" Her voice rises slightly at the end, becoming a high-pitched almost-whine. She breaths and collects herself visibly. When she continues, she does so slowly, each word measured and precise. "I am the princess of Alderaan. I will be queen one day. Why would my son be raised anywhere but Alderaan?" Her eyes harden, as though she already knows the answer but needs to hear it spoken aloud by someone besides herself. "Why, Ben?"

Ben curses himself internally at his inability to keep his stupid mouth shut. "There is no Alderaan in my time." He admits finally. Leia releases the breath she had been holding shakily and the blood drains from her face, though her eyes hold no shock, no surprise.

"What happened to it?" Ahsoka asks with obvious concern.

"It was destroyed by the first Death Star."

"First?" Luke squeaks.

Ben curses outwardly this time because what is wrong with him? "Yes," he sighs, seeing no easy way around the truth. At the end of the day it's something they should probably know. "There's a second – or, there will be. It's probably just started construction, in the Endor system, I –"

"Stop revealing sensitive Imperial information!" Vader commands harshly.

Ben shoots his grandfather the most withering stare he can muster before intoning a single word, "no."

"There's a second?" Luke asks, clearly struggling to grasp the concept. He leans against the curved corridor wall and runs one hand through his hair.

"And Starkiller Base, though that's quite a few years off still." He hums. There's much more he could tell them, but they're running out of time. "More later," he promises even knowing that there's no way for him to keep it.

"Later," Leia repeats, warily.

Ben can only nod.

The world outside of the Falcon is all shadows and neon. The sun, if it is still out – Ben has no idea what time of day it is relative to their current location on the planet – it does not permeate this level, so deep are they within the metropolitan planet. The hum of speeder engines can be heard, muffled by distance and thick layers of durasteel walls.

Ben hears the hiss of the Falcon's ramp as it rises but he does not look back. There's no time for that, and really it will only make things harder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ahsoka asks, her words clipped and bordering on accusation, as Vader approaches an unattended speeder just beyond the mouth of the alley they've tucked themselves into. It seems unassuming enough, if one chooses to ignore the bright-yellow paintjob.

"We require transportation." Vader says without bristling at Ahsoka's tone.

"Yeah, well we need covered transportation, for one." She huffs. "And for another thing, you can't just walk out into traffic you're – look at you," she gestures at Vader with both hands. "You're not exactly inconspicuous."

Vader absorbs the barb wordlessly and stops. A moment of hesitation passes between the four of them. Ahsoka is right. Even though Ben can sense that the walkways on this level are not as busy as they might be, Vader cannot waltz out into a crowd of unassuming pedestrians of any size. He is far too recognizable.

"Just – stay here." Ahsoka commands, her brow set in a hard line. She points at the ground beneath their feet, at the steam that rises from the grates and the dull orange light that filters in through from the layers and layers of city below.

The walkways here are narrow, with only thin railings separating pedestrians from the deep chasm that stretches from planet surface to core. The area they're in appears to be a commercial one. Shop signs illuminate the darkness. Pastel-neon lights advertising sweets of all varieties blinks nearby at a temple-throbbing frequency.

"Think that'll work?" Rey points toward the back of a covered transport jutting out of the mouth of a nearby alley.

As they draw closer, it's clear that the transport will be large enough to fit them all, it's regular use apparently for the shipment of 'Aunty Alma's Honey Cakes', a brand of pastry Ben is unfamiliar with, likely defunct in his own time. It's locked, but that hardly proves a barrier for anyone in their group. Ben's not sure who unlocks the doors but he can hear the tell-tale click of magnetic locks disengaging. The back door rises revealing crates of snack cakes and pastries, the sweet smell of the processed treats nearly overwhelming.

"Anyone hungry?" Ahsoka mumbles with a laugh as Ben and Rey hoist themselves in amongst the boxes.

She climbs into the driver's seat and the transport rumbles to life without the need of an ignition chip. Carefully, Ahsoka guides the transport back towards the alley where they had left Vader to wait, hidden amongst the thick and convenient shadows.

"I shall drive." Vader says coolly, after making his way around to the front of the vehicle.

"Obviously," Ahsoka agrees with a rather disagreeable tone. Still, she climbs over the central console and into the front passenger's seat. "You're the one who knows the way."

Vader points the vehicle up at near-vertical angle. Ben throws his body over Rey's as crates shuffle and skid and collapse on top of them.

"Hey!" Ben cries out, throwing one crate away into the far wall of the transport. Crinkly plastic-wrapped snacks rain onto the floor. "Watch it!"

"You are fine." Vader replies, completely and clearly unconcerned.

"Do you think you could at least give us a little warning next time?" Ben asks, brushing himself off and ensuring Rey actually is fine as Vader rights the transport. She seems uninjured, at the very least, and perhaps even a little amused by Ben's glowering.

"Doubtful."

Vader drives quickly, recklessly, weaving in and out of layers of traffic as they approach the surface with a fluid ease. Rey is, at least outwardly, undisturbed by the turbulent ride. She climbs over the stacked boxes as they rise to the top-most layer of the city and pokes her head through the small window connecting the front cabin from the trunk of the transport. Awe floods her end of the bond.

"This is – it's incredible!" She whispers as tall buildings silhouetted by the setting sun whisk by at untenable speeds. "I've never sensed so many beings in one place."

"Never been to Coruscant?" Ahsoka inquires with a light smile.

"No, never." Rey shakes her head.

"Do you like it?"

"Well, I don't dislike it, but I don't think I could stand it for very long. It's a lot."

"It can be overwhelming at first," Vader agrees, surprising them all.

They fall into uncomfortable silence after that, only the rumble of the transport's engine, the clattering of crates, and the crinkling of snack packaging breaking the quiet.

"So, what happens after?" Ahsoka asks after a time. "Considering we survive."

"I appreciate your confidence," Ben huffs, "but maybe we can take that hyperlane when we get to it." He suggests, a vain attempt to avoid an argument he can see coming a lightyear away.

"I think that is an important conversation to have before," Rey says, craning her neck around to stare at Ben pointedly. "Do you disagree, Ben?" Her eyes hold a challenge, they dare him to disagree.

"No," He says carefully, well aware of the thin ice he is treading upon, "normally I would agree with you completely, I just –"

We both know which way he's going to go, Rey. I'd rather deal with that afterwards, not now when we still need his help.

For a moment, it seems like she is going to fight him. Her brows draw together and she opens her mouth in preparation of whatever protest she has prepared, but Vader beats her to it.

"Should we succeed in destroying Sidious, obviously, I will take his place."

Ben looks Rey directly in the eyes and gestures silently at his grandfather with both hands, as if to say, "See, I told you so!" She seems distinctly unimpressed.

"Absolutely not!" Ahsoka laughs angrily. "You really think I'm going to help you overthrow Palpatine so you can take over right where he left off? You're something else these days, I'll tell you what."

"How, exactly, did you think this would go?" Vader asks coolly. "Tell me, I am curious."

"Well, I certainly didn't –" Whatever Ahsoka had been going to say dies on her lips, her voice trailing off into silence as the transport approaches what Ben recognizes as the former Federal District – or, as it stands now, the current Federal District and the former Senate District – the formal core of the Galactic Empire and the informal center of the galaxy. She rounds on Vader again. "I thought we weren't just wandering straight into the Palace? I swear, if this is a trap –"

"We are not, and it is not." Vader interrupts, swerves hard to the right, avoiding the Imperial Plaza entirely. "It is unfortunate that the most direct tunnel originates in such close proximity to the Palace, but there is nothing to be done about that."

"Well, where is it? The Senate Dome?" Ahsoka asks mockingly.

Vader doesn't answer, but it hardly matters as the transport stops and lands on a nearby landing pad on one of the lower levels of the building. There's a small veranda to the right of where they park covered in green and blooming flowers, a small overgrown garden that looks more personal than public property. Ahsoka gapes at the building openly, her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to take the entirety of it in through the limited scope of the viewport. Her recognition is obvious.

"Oh," she says, her voice hollow and without inflection. "That's how you know about these tunnels. Must have been convenient."

Ben recognizes the building as well. In his own time, the penthouse apartment had been converted into an upscale restaurant specializing in Nabooian cuisine. His mother and uncle had both been invited to the grand opening as honored guests. He'd been brought along, nine-years-old and moping, too worried about whether or not the food would be strange to appreciate the grand views or the history of the place. The restaurant, The Naboo Queen, had been named for its much-revered previous occupant, Padmé Amidala. This is where his grandmother had lived.