Han grips the steering component of the Falcon probably a little too tightly. There's shouting in the other room, and the tell-tale angry hum of one of those damn laser swords. Han honestly never thinks much about how powerful the people he's surrounded himself with are. The Force still feels a little bit like a fairy tale to him even if he knows that it's not. He's seen these people lift rocks bigger than he is – bigger than Chewie, Ben's stopped blaster bolts in midair, and the way they jump… these idiots could rip his ship apart if they wanted to, could send the lot of them hurtling into the cold void outside without breaking a sweat. Wouldn't bother them. They can probably all survive in open space for all he knows.

"Hey!" He calls out. "I hear you all fighting on my ship I will personally throw you out of the airlock!" He's not sure how, exactly, he intends to keep that promise, but he sure as hell means it.

He cranes his neck around at the sound of shuffling behind him, ready for a fight if needed, but his mouth clamps shut when he sees Leia hovering awkwardly inside of the cockpit's threshold. Her face flushes a bright red when he spies her, knowing she's been caught. Han opens his mouth to say something, but what? He swirls his seat around, he needs to pay attention to flying after all. He doesn't hear her leave – and he is listening very closely.

"How're –" He coughs, his throat suddenly too dry. He feels his face heat up. What is wrong with him? He's not some gangly teenager anymore. He shouldn't be so kriffing bashful around a girl, even if he did find out just the other day that she is his future wife and the mother of his child. "You're alright?" He manages to force out eventually.

"Yes, I'm… physically I'm fine, yes." She answers quietly. "Very tired." He can't see her face but he can hear her exhaustion, can imagine the dark circles lining her eyes.

"Good," Han coughs again. He needs something to drink, some water or maybe something a little stronger – hell, this whole 'future kid' thing is going to turn him into a lousy drunk like his old man if he's not careful. "I'm glad – and the kid – Luke?" He adds quickly, lest she get the wrong idea and think he is asking about their kid.

Should he ask about Ben? Where did the big guy run off to anyway? Is he alright? He'd seemed well enough, but Han hadn't been able to pay too much attention to anything but dodging incoming fire and avoiding an untimely death. He should check on him, right? That's what a father should do, right? He doesn't mean to groan audibly, but he does.

Han is actually glad for the TIEs swarming the Falcon. A more welcome distraction he's never seen.

"Oh, Artoo – what were you thinking, running off like that?" The tinny whine of that damned protocol droid grates against Han's ears. "Do you know the trouble I've had keeping this lot in line? Well, let me tell you –" Thankfully, the droids pass by the cockpit on their way to wherever it is on the ship they are headed.

"He's – I'm not sure. I didn't want to… Did you all arrive on Home One?" Leia asks. She sounds a bit closer now. Han thinks that she's standing right behind him.

"Uh, yeah." He responds, diving out of the way of a TIE's green fire. "It's uh – around here somewhere." The gigantic Mon Calamari cruiser isn't visible in his viewport, but surely it's still in the system.

"We should head back there then." She says.

"You sure that's a good idea, Pri – Leia?" She doesn't like it when he calls her 'Princess'. Well, sometimes she does, or she seems to, but he'd rather not test his luck. He doesn't have the energy for that right now. "Not sure we can just walk on board with our current… guest."

"He would be a very valuable prisoner for the rebellion," Leia muses quietly.

Chewie grunts a laugh and mutters sarcastically how easily contained their prisoner would be as well.

"Sure that would go over great with him." Han agrees.

"Well, I'm sure I don't care." Leia sniffs dismissively. "It's certainly a much more complicated situation than I would have liked, but – can I comm my father?" She peaks her head around the pilot's seat, her eyes large and beseeching. "Please?" She adds for good measure.

"'Course." Han grunts, swallowing over the lump in his throat. As if he could say 'no' to her when she looks at him like that. "Probably a good idea anyway, see what all of them up in command want to do with the, uh, the situation."

Leia leans across the console to grab the transceiver for the short-wave radio in the exact same moment that Han is forced to pitch the Falcon hard to the left nearly sending her tumbling into his lap – nearly. Leia takes a moment to right herself and grips Han's shoulder, using him as an anchor. The blush on her cheeks deepening impossibly further. She really is very pretty – beautiful.

"Bail Organa," The voice that rings through the cabin is tinny and crackling with static, but also very distinctly that of Leia's father. "Solo, is this you?"

"Father?"

There's a momentary pause, one that lasts just long enough that Han worries the connection has cut out. The damn comm must be on the fritz again, and there's really nothing he can do about that right now because he's got that wired up to a computer panel back in the second hold. Chewie had said that'd been a horrible idea, but it actually makes sense because…

"Leia?" Bail gasps on the other end of the line. "Leia, oh my – thank the Force! Are you alright, are you safe? Leia, I –"

"Yes, Father, I'm alright." Leia sniffles. Han pretends that he doesn't see her wiping tears from her cheeks out of the corner of his eye. He's got a battle to pay attention to anyway. "We're all alright, or, well, Luke was injured, but I think he's – Father, I need to tell you something, I'm not sure how to…"

"Bail Organa!" The booming voice of Vader is so loud, so angry, Han's certain it actually rattles his bones. He grips the ship's yoke even more tightly. "You treacherous, vile excuse for a being! You steal my child, keep her from me, indoctrinate her with your treasonous beliefs. I will destroy you. I will have my –"

"Stop!" Leia cries, whirling around, the hand not clutching the transceiver fisted in a tight ball by her side. "Don't you dare – Don't you ever speak to him like that, or I'll –"

"Leia?" Bail sounds shaken. "Leia, what is going on? Is that… is it…"

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" Ahsoka's voice asks from somewhere behind Han. "You can't just wander around the ship."

"Father, I'm sorry," Leia whispers. A burst of icy air fills the room and Han shivers. "I'm alright. I'll explain everything later, I promise." She thumbs a button on the side of the transceiver ending the comm.

"Set a course for Mustafar." Vader commands. Han knows that he's speaking directly to him. He should probably be scared, but he's more irritated than anything else. Chewie growls a low warning at Vader's order, but it goes ignored. "Co-ordinates –"

"Absolutely not! We will rendezvous with the Rebel Alliance!" Leia snaps.

"I told you to give me your lightsaber!" Ben's voice now. Han's not sure if everyone can even fit in the cockpit at this point. He can feel the walls pressing in, intensifying the low throbbing pain in his temples.

"I will not relinquish my weapon nor will I throw myself into the hands of those terrorists." Vader protests. "I know you think me to be a fool, but –"

"Enough!" Han roars. He whips the ship around and points it directly at the planet, dipping and diving around enemy and friendly fire alike. He recognizes the sound of commotion behind him but pays it no mind.

"Han," Leia's face is directly beside his, her eyes screaming her rage, her mouth set in a tight line. "Where are you taking us?"

"We're not going to Mustafar. We're not going to the rebellion." Leia seethes at that, but Han ignores her, ignores all of them. "This is my ship – I don't take too kindly to being ordered around on it." Han says, offering no other answers.

"You believe I care who this flying piece of scrap metal belongs to?" Vader fumes.

"Listen," He leans forward a little as the ship burns through layer after layer of Corustcanti atmosphere. "I don't know much about… diplomacy or war games, but I do know that when you've got folks from warring gangs and they need to talk something out, they meet at a neutral location."

Despite the battle going on above, the air traffic on Coruscant is as thick as Han remembers. He hasn't been to Imperial City in quiet a few years – there are a few folks here he's rather less friendly with than he would like – even so, he knows a few hidey-holes, safe places to dock the Falcon and lie low.

He was once told that you should only break one law at a time, and while that is certainly not a rule he has ever followed religiously, the advice is sound, especially when one of the laws you're breaking includes the smuggling of the Emperor's former right-hand. He follows the flow of traffic as best he can as he swiftly makes his way into the belly of the city. Sunlight disappears the further they descend, replaced with artificial electric yellow, blue, purple, pink, and green.

He finds the break in the city walls without issue. "Right where I left it," he mutters under his breath to no one but himself. It's not quite an alley and not quite a garage, but something in-between. It's abandoned though, and that's the most important thing for his purposes. He leans back again once the ship has landed, feeling very satisfied with himself. "A neutral location." He turns to face his slack-jawed audience. "Now, all of you, get the hell out of my cockpit."

Luke wakes to angry shouting, his sleep-clouded brain unable to understand much of anything other than the sound. His eyes flutter open and it becomes immediately clear that he is no longer aboard his father's star destroyer. The low ceiling of the berth in the Falcon's lounge stares back at him. Wires hang from a missing panel, one of them sparking menacingly.

How had he gotten here? He'd been shot, right? He remembers that, even if a little hazily. His hand lifts to his abdomen almost out of instinct, a primal need to inspect his wound. He braces himself for the pain sure to follow, but none does. He's not in any kind of pain at all, save for the crick in his neck from lying on the uncomfortable bunk for too long. He feels as well as he ever has.

Is he dead? Surely there would be less screaming-matches in death, right? Luke's head lolls towards the sound and the sight that greets him makes him glad that he'd already been lying down. Han, Chewie, Leia, Ben, and Rey are gathered on one end of the lounge, all five of them standing behind Ahsoka who is staring down - Luke's father?

"We could keep him in one of the holds until we figure out what to do with him." Ahsoka suggests, looking at Luke's father but clearly talking to the others.

"Any attempt to hold me prisoner would be pitiful." Luke's father says. "Who would be my guard - you? Him?" He points to Ben who glowers in response. "The pilot, perhaps?"

"You can't just walk around. I don't trust you."

"Trust me? I am not the one who attacked you unprovoked."

"Unprov -" Ahsoka's eyes widen in rage and her fists tighten around the lightsaber hilts in her hands. "Did the Dark Side rattle your brain?" She seethes. "Unprovoked? You tried to kill me the last time I saw you."

"I do not see how that is relevant." Luke's father pauses. "How did you survive on Malachor?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ahsoka sneers.

"Yes, I would." Luke's father replies simply.

"Listen," Ben interrupts, one arm wrapped around Rey from behind, the other held out, entreating peace between the two arguing. "I appreciate that tensions are high, but we need to figure out what we are going to do. Han," he looks over to the pilot and quickly looks away when their eyes meet. "The idea of 'neutral ground' is… not a terrible one, but the longer we stay in this system the more danger we are in. If he has truly betrayed his master," he gestures loosely towards Luke's father with his extended hand, "Sidious will be looking for him - for all of us, more likely."

"Yes," Luke's father agrees emphatically. "My grandson, at least, sees sense."

Han and Leia look at each other in the same instant, their eyes wide, worried, searching.

"Do you know?" Leia asks.

Han responds to her question with questions of his own. "Do I… Do you know?"

"I know. What do you know?"

"You both know," Rey sighs.

Luke blinks rapidly and his mouth falls open. For a moment, perhaps only a split second, his mind is like an un-tuned comm station, full of static and a quiet, high-pitched whine. He laughs as he sits up, though he's not quite sure where his amusement comes from. All eyes turn to him but he's too confused to be made uncomfortable by the attention.

"I'm sorry, what are any of you talking about?" He asks as he slides down onto the bench below the berth. No one answers him.

"Wait," Han turns to Rey, his eyes sparkling with newfound amusement. "He doesn't know?" He taps the knuckles of one hand on Chewie's chest and turns to look up at the Wookiee. "I'm not the last to know!"

"The last to know what?" The ringing in Luke's head grows louder.

Ben rubs at his temple and closes his eyes. He sighs deeply before speaking. "Rey and I are from the future." He says. Luke sits up straighter. Poor Ben, he thinks, he's lost his mind. It must be a side-effect of the freezing. Only, no one else looks at him like what he's said is the craziest thing they've ever heard. They look shocked, but at Luke, not Ben.

"You're joking, right?" Ben only shakes his head 'no' in response.

"It's true, Luke." Rey says with an apologetic shrug.

"No, because that's no - you can't - Father?" Luke voice is practically a squeak by the end. He turns to his father, the mask of his helmet as inscrutable as ever. Surely, he will put an end to this weird joke.

"It is true." His father admits.

"But… but you…" He points from his father to Ben and back again. "You called him…" He inhales sharply. Wide eyes searching Ben's face – for what? He's not sure. Recognition, familiar features, a glimpse into the future. "Are you my son?"

"Force no." Ben sniffs, his nose scrunching in what looks a little bot too much like disgust for Luke's comfort.

"He's ours, Han's and mine." Leia says, tilting her head towards the man in question.

"What?" Luke gasps, this news shocking him nearly as much as anything else. "I thought you two hated each other?" He's grossly misjudged their relationship.

He presses himself into the back of the bench. The springs beneath the leather and worn stuffing creak and groan in protest, one pushes back, digging into Luke's spine. His head is spinning, maybe the ship is, the galaxy. He's going to faint. He's going to be sick.

"You all knew? This whole time?"

"I only just found out a few days ago myself." Han says, hands splayed out in front of him. Leia nods beside him as if to say the same is true for her.

"Father? You knew and you never said anything!" Luke accuses breathily, running a hand through his hair.

"It did not come up." Is his father's only response.

Luke laughs and slumps forward in the seat, his mind cracked right in half. He grips his hair, using it as an anchor. If he couldn't feel the sting on his scalp from pulling at the roots, he would think he was asleep, stuck in a dream, maybe a nightmare. He should think they're lying, all of them – as improbable as that might be – but he knows, somehow, deep in his gut, that they're not. Maybe that's the worst part.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Ben glances offhandedly at his uncle who gasps and gulps for air like a dying fish, but doesn't seem to have any more outbursts lying in wait. "And we're all on the same page – we need to talk next steps."

He eyes Vader almost involuntarily. His grandfather darkens the far corner of the lounge, the sight more ridiculous than anything Ben has ever imagined. He waits for the insistence he knows is coming.

"Mustafar," Vader says as if fulfilling a prophecy of Ben's own design. That stupid, blasted fortress. Can't his grandfather think of nothing else?

"You truly believe Mustafar to be that defensible?" Ben sighs.

"Yes," Vader answers without hesitation, without thinking, likely. "That fortress has held off entire armies."

"Armies of Mustafarians, not an entire Empire." Ben rubs his temple with his free hand, the one not wrapped around Rey's waist. The sharp stab of his family-induced migraine throbbing in his skull. "You don't have a navy any longer, just us – and only for now."

"Do not worry, I have no illusions about our current situation and am well aware of your refusal to join me. You've reclaimed the Light, and what a boon for the Jedi that must be."

Ben bites back a retort. He does not have time to get into a screaming match with his grandfather. If Sidious is anything like Snoke, and from what Ben has read, he's much worse, he's already on the move. He'll be well aware that they have not left the planet. He'll be planning. That is a bad thing for them all.

"He's impossible," He mumbles dejectedly in Rey's ear.

"You're all a little bit impossible." She punctuates the sentence by pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning back around and facing the group. "Okay, let's just say Mustafar is on the table. It's an option."

"I will not go to his fortress," Ben's mother protests firmly. "I don't particularly care about how defensible it is. We need to return to the Rebel Alliance."

"Okay," Rey keeps her tone light and agreeable. Ben alone can feel the rough grate of her frustration along the bond. "The Rebel Alliance is another option. I think –"

"It is not." Vader says with finality. "No, I believe my grandson has made a good point," he adds as though it is something he loathes admitting. "Sidious' knowledge of the Dark Side surpasses even my own," Ben only barely hears Ashoka mutter 'even my own' under her breath, the repetition followed by a small mocking laugh. If Vader hears he does not comment. "And his reach is vast. There is no hiding from him, not truly. Nowhere in the galaxy will be safe so long as he lives."

"Are you suggesting that we kill him?" Ahsoka asks carefully.

"Yes," Vader responds quickly. "There is no running from Sidious, not truly."

Ben finds himself nodding unconsciously. Snoke had been much the same. There's really no way to run from something that lives inside of your mind. Is that the kind of relationship Vader and his master have? Can his grandfather feel the Sith clawing at the walls erected around his mind, angry and desperate for entry? Ben resists coiling in on himself as the memory of his own master dipping in and out of every thought resurfaces, coiling through his head like a phantom.

"So we're going to kill the Emperor now?" Han asks with shocked amusement. "That's treason, right? Just wanna keep track of all the crimes I'm committing."

"Only if we fail." Vader's words, while heavy with implication, are the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "Taking into account your activities for the past few years, I would have thought you used to treasonous acts by now." Vader remarks dryly.

"All of that was… light treason at most." Han responds with a vague shake of his head. "This is assassination. It's different."

"And do you have a plan for this assassination?" Ben asks, certain he already knows the answer – no. "Or were you planning on walking through the front door of the palace and just hacking at anything that moves?"

"Obviously not." His grandfather replies humorlessly. "I find your lack of confidence surprising. Especially after how readily you bragged about killing your own master."

Ben does not miss the way his parents look at him after Vader's remark, their faces a mix of confusion and grim concern. He does not comment on it, certain that he is not quite ready to have the 'Snoke' talk with his parents. How much should he say? How much can he say? Even if he wanted to go out and find Snoke now, save himself or whatever version of himself this reality belongs to from that vile creature's torture, he doesn't know where to find him. He knows little to nothing about Snoke's past, his history, where he would have been or might have been doing before the fall of the Empire.

"Yes, well, it's not as if I betrayed him and then came back later to finish the job."

"How, then, did you do it?" Vader nods impatiently when Ben does not speak. "Go on," He prompts. "Enlighten us all."

"It's not something we can replicate here." Ben sputters. "It was a split-second decision."

Rey turns around in his arms, eyebrows rising to nearly meet her hairline. "Split-second?" Ben blinks back at her dumbly before realizing his mistake.

"Not that split-second," His ears are burning. He searches for an explanation, but nothing comes, his mind blanking out. "I just - it wasn't something I had planned – you know, before hand, but I -" He hadn't planned much of anything, really. He knew the moment Rey landed on the Supremacy that they would kill Snoke together, he'd seen that much, after all, but it wasn't until Snoke had hurt her, had ripped into her mind with the vicious ferocity that only he possessed that Ben had decided it would happen then, that day, on that ship. "I don't think that this is relevant to the situation at hand."

"Of course we will not simply 'walk in through the front door', as you put it." Only the lightened edges of Vader's presence in the Force betray how amusing he finds Ben's embarrassment. "If this is something we do and plan to survive, we must take Sidious by surprise - a task that may very well be impossible."

"Encouraging," Ahsoka mutters.

"There are tunnels, ones that weave throughout the underbelly of the city, leading everywhere - including the palace. I had most of them sealed off when Sidious rose to power, a security issue, though some I kept to myself and left open in case of emergencies."

"Emergencies like assassinating the Emperor." Han says with a sarcasm-laced shrug.

"Precisely." Vader answers without an ounce of humor.

"Alright," Rey begins slowly, cautiously, calmly, like she is speaking to a toddler on the verge of descending into a thunderous tantrum, "assuming this plan works, I –"

"This is not a plan," Ahsoka scoffs. "It's a route, at best, one that may of may not be safe."

"I assume you have a better one, then?" Vader asks pointedly. The tension in the air grows ever thicker. It sits on Ben's skin with a viscous, awful energy. "I do not seem to recall all of your plans in the past being fool-proof. Despite what you might wish, I do remember –"

"Don't you dare bring up what I think you're going to, because that wasn't my fault, and you know it!" Ahsoka snaps.

"Assuming it works," Rey continues, a bit more forcefully, "do we actually stand a chance against the Emperor?"

"Father," Luke pipes up, finally having found his voice again. "You said I wasn't ready."

"And you are not." Vader agrees. "You and your sister will stay here, in the company of Tano. The dyad and I will face Sidious."

The lounge explodes into uproarious dissent. Shouts of 'no' and 'father' and 'absolutely not', ring out in a cacophonous storm of sound. Ben can barely register which words belong to who, much less what he, himself, is shouting.

In his mind, he knows that what his grandfather has suggested is the best possible plan. Vader is not strong enough to face Sidious on his own, but, perhaps with the power of Ben and Rey's bond they might stand a chance. The idea is a logical one, strategically speaking, and leaving Ahsoka behind will ensure that his parents and Luke remain safe should anyone be sent after them. It is rational, reasonable, a sound idea. He recognizes that, but the thought of Rey facing Darth Sidious, arguably the most dangerous Sith in history, the idea of placing her in that kind of peril, it tightens his chest uncomfortably.

"You think I'm going to let you leave with them, alone? I was right before," Ahsoka laughs manically in disbelief. "The Dark Side truly has rattled around whatever brains are left inside of that thick skull of yours An –"

"Watch what you say." Vader warns lowly, standing up impossibly taller than before, somehow, the shadows around him darkening with his rage. "Taking care with your words was never one of your strong suits, but I suggest you start trying."

"I'm not letting you leave with Ben." His mother protests. "Not after what you've already done to him. I don't trust you."

"Neither do I," Han agrees, one of his hands closing over Leia's shoulder. She glances down at it for a moment in what might be surprise before returning her glare to Vader.

"I think he's right." Rey says. The air seems to still. "Luke and Leia aren't ready for this, but maybe Ben and I – maybe this is what we are meant to do?"

Ben leans down, his brush the shell of Rey's ear. "Rey, what are you talking about? Meant to do what?"

"My thoughts exactly." Rey's shoulders tighten at Vader's words of concurrence. "I have suspected for some time that there is a purpose for your arrival in the past, especially as it does not seem as though you are here of your own volition, not to mention the prophecy."

"Prophecy?" Ben repeats. "What prophecy?"

"It does not matter." His grandfather responds dismissively. "Those old Jedi divinations are nothing more than words and hot air, but it did make me start to consider your purpose here. There must be one, a reason for the Force to draw you from your own time into this one."

"Have you considered there being no reason at all?" Ben asks dryly.

"The Force is often cruel, but never random." Vader says with the confidence of someone with years of experience. "I am certain of there being a reason for your presence in this time, though considering what that reason might be is not currently my concern."

"If this is what we're doing, I'm going with you." Ahsoka says. It sounds like a concession, like she is giving in to something.

"Who says this is what we're doing?" Leia asks incredulously.

"You would leave my children here, alone?" Vader asks, the question directed at Ahsoka, ignoring Leia's question entirely.

"Alone?" Han looks back at Chewie, eyebrows raised. "Sorry, buddy, looks like we don't exist."

"If only that were true." Vader's hand tightens by his side. "It is becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore your presence."

"So sorry," Han throws his hands up in mock surrender. "Should I go hide in the cargo hold? You know, you've got a funny way of showing gratitude to the guys who saved your skin," and then, because, as it is becoming more and more clear to Ben, his father has a death wish, he adds with a smirk, "so to speak."

"You are still alive, are you not? That is more than enough gratitude in my eyes. I cannot believe that you are the person my daughter chooses as a partner. A deserter, a smuggler, a –"

"Sorry I don't live up to your lofty expectations!" Ben's only relief is that his father's lack of reverence does know some bounds as he doesn't add a sarcastic 'Dad' to the end.

Leia takes a step towards Vader, her shoulders tense and eyes screaming fire. "You have absolutely no say in who I choose as a partner! The fact that you think you do just shows how deluded –"

Ben breathes heavily. The Falcon's lounge is a powder keg and every member of his family is holding a lit match, all threatening to drop their own, sending them all sky high.

"Stop!" He booms, his voice loud and deep, cutting through all other sound.

All eyes turn to Ben, and though they are silent, the tension between each and every person on the ship is pulled taught, a fraying thread ready to snap at one wrong word or movement. Slowly, Ben closes his eyes and exhales, drawing on every ounce of calm he has ever possessed to be the sorely needed voice of reason.

"This is getting us nowhere. He's," Ben gestures towards his grandfather with a limp wrist, "not wrong. Leaving here with Sidious alive is likely a mistake we can't afford to make. Ahsoka's not wrong either, we'll need as many as we can get to take him down."

"And what, the rest of us are expected to stay here and sit on our thumbs, waiting for you to return?" Leia asks with a glower.

"Or not return." Luke offer grimly, his back hunched. Leia pales slightly but nods along anyway. "I should be there. We," he looks at Leia, "should be there."

"Luke, Leia," Ahsoka turns to each of them in turn. "You simply don't have enough training. And Chewie, Han, I'm sorry, but without the Force you don't stand much of a chance at all. I have experience fighting Sith, and so does -" she looks back at Vader, lips pressed together in a thin line. "So does everyone else that's going."

"We don't get a say at all?" Leia asks, sounding only the slightest bit desperate.

"This is not a democracy." Vader says coolly.

"Of course it's not." Leia sneers.

"I don't like this, for the record." Han says with a frown.

"Dully noted." Vader deadpans.

There's a moment of silence that follows. No one seems entirely happy with the decision that's been made, but there doesn't seem to be much more to say on the subject, nothing that won't have them all going around in circles, anyway. Ben clings to Rey and shifts uncomfortably in his still slightly damp clothing, cloth and drying carbonite sticking to his skin. He fights back against the fear mounting in his chest. Fear for Rey, for his family, even for himself because they're going to face Darth Sidious and they'll either kill him or die trying, there is no in-between.