Thank you for all your kind reviews! As usual, I don't own anything. Feedback is always welcome. -T

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"Luke."

There was a shimmering white, flat landscape, a painfully blue sky and a lone figure in the distance, indistinct.

Luke was standing, still dressed in his orange flight suit, his lightsaber clipped to his side, the surface under his boots crystalline. The figure, he could make out now, was Obi-wan Kenobi.

"Ben?" He squinted against the diffuse light.

"Luke, you must go to the Dagobah system to complete your Jedi training." Ben was close now, life-size, somewhat translucent.

"Dagobah system?" He echoed, confused. His head hurt. "Why? What's there?"

"Master Yoda will help prepare you to face Darth Vader."

Vader? Luke's idea had been to stay as far away from the dark Lord as possible. The questions burned through him. "Why do I need to face him? Where is the Dagobah system? How do I get there? Why can I see you-you're dead!"

Ben seemed to shimmer, a mirage against the white sand. He smiled benignly and dissipated into the distance.

"Ben!" Luke cried, a sudden pang of grief a kick in the solar plexus. "Don't go!"

There seemed to be five Sandpeople pounding Gaffe sticks inside his skull. And a very bright blue light, burning away the crystalline desert scene.

Luke groaned, screwing his eyes shut against the blinding headache.

"Glad to see you're awake, kid." It was Han's voice.

He groaned again, lifting a leaden hand to his forehead. His arm refused to obey the command. "Turn off the light."

"Sorry to have to do that to you, but you were kind of in the way of the getaway." There was a click and the light behind his eyelids darkened.

Luke opened his eyes a crack. Han was sitting next to him, perched on a crate, hand extended with a glass of water. "Here."

This time his hand obeyed his command to grasp the bulb of water. "What happened?" He croaked. He struggled to tilt his head up enough to sip some water.

"You don't remember?" Solo's voice sounded almost hopeful.

Luke grimaced as recollection flooded in on him, as well as a renewed throbbing of the headache. He eyed the smuggler, feeling thoroughly confused. "I remember," he mumbled. "But maybe you can tell me what's going on."

He tested his ability to sit up, fought back a wave of nausea. "What the heck were you doing? Why did you take off without clearance? Why did you…" The Gaffe sticks intensified in his skull and he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. "...stun me?"

He must have looked green because Han, with an odd look in his eyes urged him back down. "Take it easy, kid. I can explain everything." Solo chewed his lip. "About that stun...sorry about that."

Luke sank back to the narrow bunk he was lying on. "Where are we?"

"Um…" Han fiddled with something in his hand. "Roughly halfway between the Melsinor system and Terrenia."

Luke arched both eyebrows. "And what is on Terrenia that called for blasting out of the base like that?" He half propped himself to a sitting position, remembering the turbocannon fire, the angry voice over the com. "How are we going to explain this when we get back? I was supposed to report to a debriefing about my mission. Do you realize how bad this will look to High Command?"

"Explain?" Now Han looked dismissive, brushing aside Luke's concerns. "We're not going to explain anything, kid. We're on an extended trip. Things will blow over by the time we get back."

Now Luke did sit up. "Extended trip?" He repeated incredulously. "That's called desertion! They'll have my head. I'll be-"

Han looked almost bored. "Yeah, kid. Court Martialed. You and half of everybody else." He leveled a finger at the younger man and stood, towering over Luke. "Before you get all worked up, just take a deep breath, okay? This whole trip was the Princess's idea. She's funding it. Her head's on the chopping block too. I'll explain things eventually...somehow." Suddenly the smuggler looked lost in his own thoughts, as though he were staring straight through Luke. "Just...come on. Chewie's got something cooking in the galley." His lip twitched. "If you're hungry."

Luke frowned. Han seemed uncharacteristically melancholy. There was a bleakness to his expression that Luke had never seen before. What was going on? "See, now I'm even more confused," he called after the Correllian's retreating back. "Why don't you tell me what's going on right now?" When Solo didn't answer or turn back, he sighed, feeling suddenly very tired and old somehow. A strange feeling settled into the pit of his stomach and stayed there. Was it the Force telling him something? He had too little experience to know for sure. And had that been a Force vision or simply a dream about Obi-wan Kenobi?

Dagobah system. He considered. He'd never heard of such a place, but that didn't necessarily mean it did not exist. Or Yoda for that matter, whoever that was. He could search the star charts in the cockpit for coordinates later. Or maybe it had simply been a dream-a product of an overactive imagination and too little sleep the past few weeks.

Was he going crazy? Han would probably say yes.

With a sigh, Luke swung his feet to the floor. The small cabin grayed out for a moment before his vision cleared and he could hear Chewie's angry bark from the galley. He still couldn't understand the Wookiee, though body language went a long way toward communication.

"I just wanted a taste!" Han's voice snapped. "Don't get so territorial." In a lower voice, he added, "Dish some for the kid. I think he's coming."

"He is coming," Luke confirmed, shuffling into the galley, the headache from the stun settling into a localized place in the back of his skull. "But," a faint aroma reached him. He didn't know Chewie could cook. He realized it had been a long time since his last actual meal in the mess hall. "I'll just have a little." Until his stomach settled.

"Here kid, eat up," Han shoved a steaming plate in front of him as Luke sank down into the cracked plastene seat. "You look like you're wasting away under that flight suit. Alliance needs to feed you more."

"Ration shortage," Luke mumbled. "They don't have more." He looked down, realizing he was still in his flight suit and fatigues, that he could really go for a shower about now, except… "I didn't bring anything on this 'extended mission' of ours."

The Correlian spoke around a mouthful of food. "Oh, the Princess packed a bag for you. It's next to the bunk."

Luke's face heated at the thought of Princess Leia rifling through his underwear drawer. He took a careful bite of stew and managed an "Oh."

The stew was surprisingly good. He ate it all, plus another bowl full. Finally, he sat back, feeling a comfortable full feeling he had to admit he'd rarely experienced since joining the Alliance a year ago. Something about even that sensation reminded him of home and meals Aunt Beru used to make, which followed with a familiar ache of missing them.

"So," he began, looking from Han to Chewie. "Why Terrenia? What's so important there?"

Han was fiddling with something, an action Luke had learned over the past year that meant the smuggler was about to give an evasive answer. "We're going to pick up a shipment of supplies."

Suspicion creeped into Luke's gut. "What supplies?" He pressed. "The Alliance doesn't have a supplier on Terrenia."

"Neither does the Empire," Han snapped. "That's the point."

"Terrenia is ruled by crime syndicates," Luke went on. "It's a Hutt world. Jabba's looking for you. Why are we going there?"

Han looked as though he was tired of justifying himself. "I have contacts I can trust there, okay?"

A dubious growl from Chewie did less than reassure Luke. He glanced from Han to Chewie again.

"Why not use one of the Alliance suppliers? DuTeil is less that two light-years from Terrenia."

"Orders from the Princess," Solo said firmly. "We are not to go near any Alliance-friendly planets."

Luke clenched his fist under the table, his nails digging into his palm. "Why? You have to tell me what's going on, Han. I'm not a child. You can tell me what's happening here."

Han stood up to leave. "Later, kid."

Luke followed. Aunt Beru used to tell him he was nothing if not persistent. And here he was, using his powers of tenacity to annoy Han into telling him what was going on. "How do I know that Leia really gave you these instructions? I'm not on the run from the Alliance! How do I know you're not in this for yourself somehow?" He was following the Correlian's retreating back down the corridor to the cockpit. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"Trust me?!" Han whirled on him, face angry, pointing with that accusing finger again. "If I were in this for myself, I'd be seven parsecs away from here, looking out for my own hide instead of babysitting a kid with a billion-credit price on his head at the behest of a bossy, entitled princess. Don't ever question if you can trust me again, or you are on your own. And you'll have my blessing!" The smuggler spun back down the corridor. "I'll give you a hundred to one odds you don't last the week with both the Alliance and the Imps breathing down your neck!" The cockpit door hissed shut behind him.

Luke stopped short, stared expressionless at the closed door for a moment.

Okay.

He was not going to get to the bottom of this until Han cooled off a bit. He rubbed at the ache at the back of his head. What did Han mean that the Alliance was breathing down his neck?

He considered the closed door a long moment before turning back down the corridor, to the bunkroom. If he was not so worn out, he might have pestered Solo further. But doing so would only further anger the smuggler, he knew. It had been about seventy-two standard hours on his mission with the Rogues, plus this little trip. He may as well catch that shower while he had a chance. He rubbed his hand over his eyes. Perhaps there was a mole in the Alliance, someone who'd wanted to cash in on that billion-credit bounty? Leia may have felt like she was protecting Luke in sending him away. He grimaced. He could take care of himself, though maybe the Princess didn't think so.

Chewie wuffed softly as he passed by the galley again. Luke looked up. "Hey." He glanced back the way he had come. "I guess I'll just let him cool off for a while."

The Wookie growled softly. Good idea.

Luke realized he'd just learned one thing: don't question where Han's loyalties lie. No matter what the Correlian said, he was in it for more than just the money. That blow-up was Solo's way of saying he cared.

Luke supposed he should feel happy that one person he considered a friend, prickly though he was sometimes, reciprocated. Instead, he just felt tired, grimy, irritable, and completely baffled by the day's events. He sighed and went to find that bag Leia had supposedly packed for him.

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He gave Han several hours to cool off, and then headed to the cockpit himself, half-expecting his friend to still be there. The cockpit was empty, the mottled electric blue of hyperspace flickering light across the console.

Hesitantly, Luke settled into the co-pilot's seat and keyed into the computer the star charts of the Known Regions, then the Outer Rim. No planet under the name of Dagobah existed in the database. He checked twice, just to be sure.

Then he left the cockpit as silent as he'd come, heading off to the bunkroom to catch some sleep.

When he finally settled into an uneasy doze, his dreams were of a swampy bog, ethereal mist, and the steady, ominous breathing of Darth Vader.