Luke felt the ripples in the Force the moment he drops from hyperspace. Was this why he was asked here? Intrigued, he takes a moment close his eyes and explore the disturbance. There was a sense of familiarity to it, and a brightness that almost felt as if the Force was singing. The only thing the Jedi could equate it to was the first time he saw his little nephew, Ben.
Resolving to investigate whether or not it was why he was called, Luke opened his eyes and guided his personal X-Wing to the planet before him. Until the battle the year before, this sandy world was almost completely unknown to the galaxy, but now there was barely a bar or cantina where you wouldn't find some drunken spacer claiming to have fought at the Battle of Jakku.
Luke was baffled. In all his years fighting the Empire and its remnants, he had never heard of a facility like the one he was now in. Row upon row of upright, rectangular devices. Dozens of carbon storage units, each one holding a single prisoner of special importance to the former Emperor.
"It's taking a while, identifying them and determining if it is safe for them to be revived. Or even if they should be, there are some real pieces of work in this facility. None of them are listed with their names, only numbers. And some have been frozen since before the fall of the Old Republic." Luke was briefed by a New Republic Intelligence colonel, who was holding out a datapad for the Jedi. Luke gave it little more than a cursory glance before asking;
"I don't mean to be rude, but why was I called here? I can see the clear importance of your work, but I have pupils to train."
"Well, sir, we found another carbon unit separated from the rest. There was no way to open the door electronically, and the door itself was reinforced with Mandalorian iron." Luke cocked an eyebrow at that. Mandalorian iron, or beskar, was extremely rare and expensive. It was especially valued for armour, given its strong resistance to energy weaponry. Particularly lightsabres. "And when we managed to cut our way through, we found no means of identification at all."
"Show me." Luke orders. The colonel nods, and leads the newly-minted Jedi Grandmaster through a nearby corridor, despite Luke technically having no authority to give commands. As he follows the officer, Luke can feel he is approaching the source of those ripples in the Force. The disturbances ramped up to a fever pitch as they rounded a corner. Before them was a rough-cut hole. Beyond the remains of the now-clearly Force-activated door was a single carbonite slab, the frighteningly familiar occupant of which was clearly unconscious when he was frozen.
Thankfully, the Jedi thought, remembering Han's pain reverberating through the Force. Luke slowly approached the frozen man, reaching out to touch the carbon coated face, as the Force got louder and louder, inch by inch. The moment before Luke's fingers make contact, the Force is almost deafening in its intensity, only for it to fall completely silent as his fingers touch the cool surface. He waited a heartbeat, before he was flooded with images and sensations.
The familiar heat of Tatooine's suns and the safety of a mother's arms. The call of a Tusken raider echoing over pain and rage. Kind, brown eyes and a stomach-churning love. Blue and white headtails dancing through droids, a thousand identical faces at their backs. A purple lightsabre spinning through the air, and the finality of a choice.
Luke steps back with a sharp breath.
"We need to wake him up." He tells the colonel.
"That is what we were going to ask you, whether or not you believe he should be. I shall make the arrangements." She replies, before turning and speaking to her aide.
"In the meantime, colonel," Luke says, "Is there anywhere that I can go where I will not be disturbed? I must consult with someone."
