Luke Skywalker sat down at the head of a long, glossed wood table, it's surface reflecting the solemn faces which hovered above it, tinting them in it's red brown hue. This wasn't a courtesy meeting, this wasn't a diplomatic convention, this wasn't exactly something that he was prepared for. This was a gathering of friends, only it was the kind he never wanted to call.

He nodded across the table at Chewbacca, the Wookiee tipping his head towards Luke in response. Chewie's eyes gave away his exhaustion, having spent the last few days without sleep, searching for his friend. The results had been minimal, a fact that wasn't at all encouraging.

As he scanned the rest of the room, checking to see if all those invited had taken their seats, Luke began, "I doesn't look good," he said, for lack of a better beginning. He could have put it softly, but this was a group of people he'd known for so long that it seemed almost condescending to do so.

"But she's not dead, yes?" Isolder leaned forward in his chair. The Hapan Prince's imposing figure lay a shadow across the table in front of him as his question reached his brother-in-law's ears. He's arrived the day before with Tenenial Djo, the Jedi escort Luke had assigned him, and was more than eager to find his wife. Though Luke new the two were not lovers, there was respect and a certain level of devotion between them that was not hard to see.

"No, she's not dead," Luke replied, as relived to hear his own words as the rest of the room, "and there's a good chance that since Leia's alive, that Han is too."

"I don't even understand this," Lando Calrissian said, gesturing his confusion with his hands, "there's no ransom set, they aren't dead, what exactly was the point of this?"

Chewie howled a reply.

Lando exhaled, "If this is all we know, we're not going to do them any good."

He was right, Luke new, but his accuracy in no way aided them. They were lost, despite all the resources available to them. Chewie and Lando could milk an information dealer in the galaxy and Luke could search the entire NRI database and they wouldn't be any better off. Even Luke's Jedi senses couldn't pinpoint his sister's position, not out of the seemingly infinite space she could inhabit. He had the most useless feeling in the world. Years ago he'd taken down an Empire, now he couldn't save his own sister and best friend.

"What we need in something concrete, we need names and faces," Luke said, "we can't find them based on what we've got, we have to know who has them and where they are."

"I will begin looking into the groups apposing her proposition," Isolder said, assuming a place amongst the hierarchy of rescuers.

"I'll set up a meeting with Karrde's people, see if they got wind of anything worth knowing," Lando piped in.



Chewie growled, voicing his intention to follow any leads they had on the cabby who took the two dignitaries captive.

Luke nodded, "I'm already in contact with the NRI, and they've agreed to give me any resources I might need as far as information. If any of you find anything, send it immediately to the rest of us." He stood up, coming to his full height, however unimpressive it might be, and straightened his posture, "Something tells me we don't have a lot of time, let's get them back before it runs out."

- - -

Chewbacca slipped into the galley as quietly as he could manage at his size, making his way past the [i]Falcon's[/i] ventilation controls and toward the beds. With Han gone, the ship had fallen silent, no repairs or revisions on her hull or interior, just an echo at every footstep. It was almost saddening to the Wookiee, who'd only known the vessel when it was in need of some doctoring, or at least when Han thought it did.

The ship had been a great catharsis for the old smuggler and his co-pilot, one that Chewie wouldn't dream of letting go, but he couldn't find it in him to work on her without Han to yell at him to try again or change something. Besides, the old bucket of bolts wasn't worth working on alone, you wouldn't have anyone to blame it on if something blew up.

Chewie looked down at the sleeping figure on the corner bed in the crews quarters: Jacen. The boy was slumbering where Han used to reside back when he and Chewie ran spice from one corner of the galaxy to the other. With his father gone, Jacen refused to wait idly at the Jedi Academy, biding for news. The Wookiee had thought himself of stronger will, but Jacen gave him one look and Chewie took him to Coruscant.

To tell the truth, he was glad to have Jacen aboard, at least then he could keep tabs on the boy, who would no doubt mount his own, solitary search for his father if given the slightest chance. And if he wasn't going to be exercising his life debt to Han, he was determined to employ it with Jacen.

A persistant beep broke into Chewie's thoughts, and the Wookiee look over to the wall to see the ships comm unit blinking. He got up and headed for the cockpit so as to take the message without waking Jacen.

Chewie flipped the switch to play the message, and a broken but familiar voice played:

"Chewie, it's Han, I can't talk right now but I'll send another message later, track the signal. Whatever you do, don't tell Luke."



With a few quick finger movement, Chewie tried to reverse the signal he received and send a message back, but there wasn't a comm signal on the other end, it was off. He made one last attempt to track the signal sent to him, retracing the energy's path, but found it was too thin. The realization that Han was alive was refreshing, the realization that he still couldn't do anything about it was an entirely different story.

The only important information he'd gotten about the kidnappings, and he couldn't do what he had been instructed only hours earlier. Han had been very specific: "Don't tell Luke."

All he could do was wait for the second message Han had mentioned, other than that, he and everyone else who cared about Han and Leia were in the exact same situation as before: lost.