Getting off the Death Star was almost easier than it had any right to be. The fact that both twins were side-by-side and Luke's Force presence blazed into being and Anakin's memory was roughly jogged and suddenly Darth Vader knew with terrible certainty both who the adopted Princess Leia and young wannabe Jedi Luke were, probably contributed. Another madcap dash through a highly dangerous facility with barely the bones of a working non-plan with a Skywalker and a loudmouthed brunette girl… it was almost like old times, Obi-Wan thought reminiscently. The nausea-inducing flight as they were chased by ten times more enemies than was reasonable was also familiar. The snappish retorts traded between young Luke and the crazy cocky pilot could have come from twenty years ago. (Leia was more acerbic than her mother, though. It was only thing keeping Obi-Wan grounded in the here and now.)
"You're going to crash!" Leia exclaimed.
"I never crash, sweetheart," Han Solo snapped back.
A sudden warning in the Force, and Luke's alarmed voice. "Look ou-"
Darth Vader stared, numb, as the Millennium Falcon went up in flames, the out-of-control TIE obliterated by the bigger ship's cockpit. Cybernetic hands were frozen to his yoke as he watched his last remaining family – the child...ren he thought dead at his hand, his old Master – vanish forever from the galaxy. His last link to Her. His last connection to his old life, who he used to be. His eyes could no longer produce tears, but they could burn, and burn they did.
The spectacularly over-achieving Fulcon offered three prompts: Obi-Wan - Reminisces, Darth Vader - Weeps, Han Solo - Crashes. I was just too evil not to combine them all into one.