Into the Storm

Chapter 3

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CHAPTER THREE

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Luke knew. Long before the heavy double-door to his cell opened, he knew.

Even though the cell was soundproof, he knew the commotion going on in the corridor outside...

The inner door rasped open--

"...and your mother!" Han shouted, as he was practically thrown inside.

"Han!"

"Luke! Kid!" Han shouted his name as he turned toward him, blinking repeatedly as if trying to bring the world into focus. He set forward, arms open wide to embrace Luke as they met.

Luke winced, pulling in a sharp breath as Han pressed against the sutures in his back, but the moment was too precious to spoil. They pulled back, Luke studying Han. He looked tired and drawn, with a fresh cut over his left eye and a long open graze down his chin, already darkening into a bruise.

Still, Luke smiled. "You don't look so bad to me."

Han grinned. "Ah, you should see the other guy."

"Why, what does he look like?" Luke laughed.

"I have no idea--can't see a damn thing," Han replied glibly, though Luke could sense the subtle panic beneath his words.

"Can't see?"

"Well, I can see light and dark...vague shapes." He squinted at Luke, head on one side as if it would make a difference. "But you just look like a big thumb."

"You know, I have been told that before," Luke conceded lightly, nodding. Even in this, they joked...what else could they do?

"Where're the others?" Han pushed the conversation on and Luke followed his lead, rushing to reassure.

"They're okay. I think they're a couple of levels above us. Definitely way forward and on the other side of the ship."

"Why aren't they with you?"

Luke shrugged. "I'm guessing they know we wouldn't leave without each other. That means if by some miracle we get out of here, we still have to make our way through the length of a Star Destroyer before we can even think about getting off. Gives them plenty of time to get ready for us and organize any number of surprises."

"Wow, they're good," Han deadpanned.

"I think it's Vader."

"Yeah, we already met today--when they thawed me out. He grabbed me by the neck and told me if I gave him any trouble he'd turn my face inside-out. I'm guessing he's not a morning person." Han was leaning in to Luke now, eyes wide. "You know, you actually look like a thumb with two black eyes. I guess you've already given him trouble, huh?"

Luke looked away, uncomfortable. "I think we both scored a few hits."

Han paused, momentarily serious. "Listen, thanks for coming after us."

"For all the good it did."

Han remained stubbornly optimistic. "Yeah, but we're together now. We can start work on getting outta here. And we gotta get out and get to Chewie and the Princess before they get to us, or else I'll never hear the last of it from the Wook. Or Her Highness."

Luke could only smile in the face of such confidence. He hadn't realized how much he missed it. "Hey, who's the other guy with them? Dark, well-dressed..."

"Lando's here?" Han's hackles rose at that news. "He's the one who got us all into this. He handed us over to Vader."

Luke frowned. "Well he was shooting at Vader last time I saw him. And he's in a cell with the others now."

"Yeah, probably hittin' on Leia," Han growled.

"What happened?" Luke asked, realizing belatedly that he had no idea.

"Ah, we had to land on Bespin for repairs--Lando runs some tibanna gas mine there, and we needed a safe port. Took us weeks to limp there from Hoth and then Lando's all sweetness and light, saying absolutely he'll fix the Falcon up, but we gotta wait 'till he can ship the parts in. We spend weeks an' weeks waiting--admittedly in the lap of luxury--with Lando always sayin' 'Oh, they'll be on the next transport for sure.' Then her Highnessness starts gettin' all crampy and decides to contact Ackbar and ask for a pickup instead. Next thing we know, Vader appears, we're in the detention level, I'm strapped to an interrogation rack and they're firing up the carbon-freeze. Not my best day." A thought suddenly occurred, bringing Han's head up. "I thought he was after the Princess, but Lando said he was looking for you--we were just bait. What does he want you so bad for?"

Luke sighed, not wanting to get into this now. Instead he turned to walk back and settle gingerly against the pillar, making sure he kept his sutures clear of it. "I'll tell you later," he dismissed, hiding the avoidance behind another question. "What was wrong with the Falcon?"

"Hyperdrive. We didn't even make it to the rendezvous; stayed well and truly stuck in the Hoth System. Plus we had half the Imperial fleet on our tail..." The next he spok as if he was finally putting a puzzle to rest. "They must've thought we had you on-board!"

"A Destroyer took out the hyperdrive?"

"Nah, Hoth did that. We tried to hotwire it and managed to blow out the long-range comm system too. You know, there's not one damn thing about that planet I liked." Han flopped back onto a hard bunk.

Luke shrugged. "It kept the Empire off our backs."

"Yeah, that worked out great," Han deadpanned, looking about him meaningfully. "Where the hell are we anyway?"

"Vader's Super Star Destroyer, I think."

"Great. So that's twice as far to run to get to Chewie an' Leia," Han said dryly. "How long have you been here?"

"We're in a detention cell, in hyperspace. How would I know?"

"How many meals?" Han reasoned.

"Not nearly enough. Feels like one a day, which means I've been here three days. Two days elsewhere. But I was out cold before that, and I have no idea how long for."

"Out?" Han frowned.

"In a medi-center. They put me in here when I tried to go walkabout."

"Medi-center? What happened?"

Luke shrugged, not wanting to stay on this conversation any further. "Vader."

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Han frowned, blinking rapidly as he stared at the blurred outline of the kid's hunched form, where he'd retreated to on the floor by a huge pillar which dominated the small cell. "You okay?"

"I'll live," Luke assured dismissively. But there was something else--something in his voice...

"Luke?"

He vaguely saw the kid raise his head, blurred and indistinct. Saw him hold his arm out in silence, and Han squinted at it, the white bandage against the white walls making it difficult to see just what...

The air left him in a rush of compassion as he shook his head and looked away, uncertain what to say.

"It doesn't hurt so much now." Luke said quietly.

"What the hell happened?"

"Vader," Luke repeated, voice strangely neutral as he said the name.

"Why?"

Luke shrugged. "I...got a blow in with my lightsaber."

Han was silent for long seconds. "You hit him...with a lightsaber?"

"Yeah."

Clearly the kid didn't want to give up any more information on this. Han considered for long seconds before finally nodding and saying quietly, "I'm impressed."

Strangely, the kid didn't reply; just looked away in silence.

Slowly, over the next few hours, interspersed by long, reticent lulls, Han coaxed what felt like the edited highlights out of Luke. The fight, the fall. The tractor beam, the medi-center. It all made sense, except on thing...why they were still alive at all--any of them. When he tried to push the kid on that one, he got stonewalled every time.

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Luke lay on his back, staring at the curve of the ceiling...not that it was a ceiling, per say. The cell was a half-dome, ceiling and walls merging into a single concave curve...why? He didn't exactly make it a habit to visit Imperial detention cells, but curves on any starship were a waste of space. So why here?

Beside him, Han moved in his sleep on the hard bench that the cables about Luke's ankles meant that he couldn't even reach. He glanced over, worried for him, but still grateful for his company and the distraction it offered. He knew he'd eventually have to tell Han more; that Han knew he was keeping something back, but was allowing it with good grace, for now.

But he couldn't speak the truth--not yet. Some things were still too hard to say out loud, to even begin to consider. He looked down at the bandaged stub which had been his hand; some wounds kept on bleeding.

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"I think my eyes are getting better," Han maintained from the unpadded bunk where he lay, waving his hand before eyes.

He'd been there two meals now, which definitely equated to two very long days, the way his stomach was growling.

Luke glanced up from where he generally sat on the floor, leaning back against the post in the centre of the cell. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Han glanced over, squinting. "... I want to say...three...?"

"I don't actually have my hand up," Luke said, deadpan.

"Oh, that's low," Han said dryly.

"You're not ready," Luke said easily, voice straining slightly as he shifted uncomfortably against the surgical scar he'd admitted he had on his back...maybe he wasn't ready either.

"Yeah, but if we go now..."

"If we go now, not only will I be dragging you along, whilst trying to fire a blaster one-handed and having to stop every time we hit steps to say, 'Down one...and another...', but when I finally give you a blaster because you've nagged me relentlessly about how much better you can see now, you'll probably shoot me in the back," Luke reasoned good-naturedly.

"Hey, there's nothin' wrong with my aim, junior."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Luke repeated back.

"Man, you're worse than Chewie," Han grumbled.

Luke smiled tiredly. "We'll go when we get the chance. Whenever."

"That's all I wanted to hear," Han grinned.

Silence...

"And you aren't quite as bad as Chewie."

"Thanks."

"And you can fly better than him. But don't tell him that."

"Thanks."

"And you don't smell like a tauntaun when you're wet, which Chewie definitely does."

"Always nice to know."

"Except for that one time when I covered you in tauntaun innards."

"Yeah, thanks for that," Luke said, a smile sounding in his tired voice.

"Hey, you weren't complaining at the time, pal. I'm the one who had to spend the night in a very small snow-shelter with you."

"Revenge is sweet."

"Ah, it wasn't so bad. Try being stuck in a small freighter with a wet Wookiee."

Silence... The kid was awful quiet these days.

"See, I can see how many fingers I have up this close," Han said, waving his hand before him.

"I hope so, that's your own hand," Luke pointed out mildly.

"C'mon. I bet you five hundred credits I can tell you this time."

"You already owe me the Falcon twice over." The kid sighed, but he still rose, leaning against the thick post for support.

"Care to double it?"

"Do you have four Falcons?" Luke asked dryly.

"Hey, there's only one Falcon. And we're taking her with us when we leave."

Luke leaned closer to hold his hand out, always seeming to stand awkwardly to Han when he stepped from the center of the room, his bandaged arm still clutched to his chest.

"How many?" he invited.

"Two!"

"Congratulations. You can see."

"Now can we leave?" Han asked impatiently, as if this had been the only obstruction.

"Absolutely. You open the door and we're out of here," Luke agreed, turning to head back to his spot.

"Are you..." Han leaned in, frowning, as Luke walked away. "Are you tied to that post?"

"A little bit," Luke allowed dryly.

"And you didn't think to mention that earlier?" Han said, rising and stepping forward to grab clumsily for the fine organic steel cables and lift them into his still-limited range of focus.

"All things considered, I thought it was the least of our problems. Would you quit pulling that? I'm attached to the other end!" Luke yanked back with his ankle as he slid down the pillar to sitting again.

"Wow, they really want you to stay put, don't they?" Undeterred, Han crouched down before Luke to study the cable. "This is military high-grade. Pretty hefty stuff--three of these'd lift the Falcon."

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Luke shifted uneasily as Han glanced up, that big-brother mix of concern and reproach in his tone, part patronizing, part kidding. He'd already used it to good effect to drag from Luke the fact that he'd had some kind of surgery on his spine. Luke would've kept quiet about it, but a medi-droid had been in to check the wound daily, and the fact that it had clearly been instructed not to say a word to either of them hadn't even slowed the run of questions that Han had launched.

Now he was tilting his head in that familiar way. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Cos I can't help but notice that I remain cable-free and, if I say so myself, I did a hell of a lot to hack 'em off."

Luke sighed, realizing that he had absolutely no idea of how to break the news of his training to everybody, especially Han. Of everyone, he suspected that the cynical smuggler would take this the least well. But he'd better get used to explaining it--there were a lot of people who simply didn't believe that the Jedi ever existed; the Empire had put a lot of effort into reinventing them as fakers and opportunists obsessed with their own political power. Some bought into the lie, some didn't. Some never believed in the first place--which took Luke squarely back to Han, who remained crouched before him. Luke looked his friend in the eye, manner very serious.

"You know all that...Force stuff you don't believe in?" It wasn't his best opening line, he had to admit...

"Yeah, I know it," Han said slowly, realizing where this was going, "Please don't tell me you got it into your head that all that stuff Kenobi spouted is real."

"It is real."

"See, it's not..."

"Han..." Luke interrupted.

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"No, listen--telling people it's real and wearing lightsabers is gonna make people do this to you." Han lifted the cable to illustrate his point. This was important. The kid did one step short of idolize that bantha-brained old hermit that he'd first come into Han's company with--to the point that he'd one admitted to Han that he'd heard Kenobi's voice over the Death Star. He'd had none of it when Han had said that in moments of high stress, pretty much everyone had some kind of weird experience. Didn't mean they were real.

At least the kid at least had the good grace to hunch down slightly in Han's still-blurred line of vision as he spoke, still trying to defend his corner. "Han..."

"Luke, Kenobi was just..." he hesitated to say it, knowing how the kid worshiped the old man, but this was important. "He was just some crazy..."

"Han, look down."

Han frowned, glancing down. "Ho! Hey! Whoa!"

He floated gently about a foot off the ground, neither boot touching the floor, still in a perfect crouch--he stretched forward quickly, hands out to catch himself...but didn't fall. "What the hell!?"

"If you struggle, it's very hard to keep you level," Luke said mildly.

"Seriously? ... You're doing this!?... Seriously!" Han babbled, arms out stiffly as if to balance himself now. "How the hell are..."

"It's all real, Han," Luke said quietly.

"Get me the hell down, then!"

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Luke lowered Han gently to the ground, releasing him slowly so he took his own weight back. Han crouched in silence for long seconds, glaring at Luke.

Finally, when Luke could stand it no more he opened his mouth to speak, to be met by Han's hand before his face, one finger held up to silence him. "Okay, supposing--just supposing--that I accept that it's real for the minute..." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at the last. "Which I'm not sayin' that I do... Can you do anything else?"

Luke shrugged unassumingly. "I can speed up my reflexes, accelerate healing, increase my physical abilities, read intent, see..."

Han sat back to yank his boot off and drop it to the ground. "Lift that up."

"Han, I just lifted you up. What..."

"I wanna see you do it on something else. Somethin' I name."

Sighing, Luke lifted the boot with the Force, turning it gently in the air at eye level. Even this small act felt good. He'd not maintained anything more than passive contact with the Force since arriving here, uncomfortable to do so this close to Vader, knowing that he would sense any contact.

Inexplicably, Han felt the need to check for forcefields, waving his hand over and about the boot. How exactly Han thought that Luke would be creating or manipulating them in an Imperial detention cell, Luke didn't know.

"It's not a trick," Luke said, giving his friend time to come to terms with this as Han tapped suspiciously at the boot.

It didn't take him too long, opportunist that he was.

"Can you open the door?"

"No. I could open a normal cell door--just blow it out--but this is different and I've been trying to figure out how. I've gone over the door repeatedly, but there's no mechanical lock at all, only an automated hinge mechanism to open the door when it's free-moving. I was looking at the structure of the roof, and I think there's a vacuum between the two doors--around this whole chamber. I think we're in a room within a room. That's why there are two doors with the outer one opening out and the inner one opening in; they're both held closed by a vacuum that exists between these two rooms. I'm pretty sure I could force the seal, but I think if I did it'd open the cell to a vacuum. I think it was made specifically to hold Jedi."

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Hold Jedi..."That's why they want you, isn't it?" Han asked slowly, as it all came together.

Luke nodded slowly.

"That's why Vader was sent after you."

"Vader has his own reasons," Luke said cryptically, making Han frown at the kid.

He was different somehow; had been since Han had arrived here. Han had put it down to their less-than-favorable circumstances, but now...

Han looked closer--he seemed older...more prepossessed.

"Where were you," Han asked slowly. "When we were limping all the way to Bespin then stuck on Cloud City for weeks on end...where were you, Luke?"

Luke glanced down...and was actually about to speak when his face changed quite suddenly, a wary mask falling as he looked aside. "Vader," he whispered.

Han frowned, glancing at the blank wall where the kid was looking, confused. "What?"

A distant, muffled hiss of displaced air was followed by the grind of the heavy outer door opening. Han pushed up and back as Luke rose beside him, just as the inner door grated open and Vader stalked in, striding up to Luke without even glancing at Han, stormtroopers crowding in at the door.

"What were you doing?" Vader growled without preamble.

The kid was incredibly guarded now, but strangely unafraid. More than that even; antagonistic. Han could see it quite clearly.

"Why?" Luke challenged.

Even his voice was different; had an uncharacteristic edge to it.

Vader took one step closer, hand held out, finger up in warning. "Don't play games with me. What were you doing?"

Still Luke wouldn't back down. Han glanced at the troopers by the now-closed door. Was the kid suicidal!

"Why don't you check your security footage? Or ask your troopers in the ops room. That's their job, isn't it, to watch us?"

Han glanced up, squinting about the cell for a security lens, though he could see nothing.

"I am asking you," Vader snapped, denying none of Luke's accusations.

Luke remained silent, the air fairly buzzing between them. Han had never seen the kid like this before--he was almost unrecognizable.

"Check the wires," Vader ordered.

Two troopers rushed forward to comply, inspecting the cables which bound Luke to the wide central pillar.

"They're good, Lord Vader. No marks," came the filtered reply.

"The door," Vader said, without looking away.

The troopers pushed past Han, hustling him aside. "Hey, watch it!"

"Clean, Sir."

Vader lifted his head to study the post which Luke was tied to, then scanned the room slowly before turning back to a still-silent Luke, who fairly seethed animosity, eyes hooded, stance taut.

"If you do anything, anything at all, he will suffer," Vader growled, pointing to Han. "As will the others. They are all expendable. Remember that."

He turned, his cloak swirling about him, and was almost to the door before Luke spoke, voice tight and low. "I will."

There was something in it...something that spoke far more of a threat than of compliance.

Han tensed, turning to Vader, who paused, twisting slowly back to stare at Luke for long moments. Han felt his own muscles tighten, sure Vader would lunge at Luke, sure the kid would throw himself at Vader if he did, uncertain what to do; whether to grab for the kid to restrain him or launch forward to try to help him.

Then Vader simply turned and stalked out, the door slamming home behind the troopers who followed him, the hiss of the hermetic seal engaging the only sound for long seconds.

"Man, you sure know how to pick your enemies," Han wheezed, letting the words out in a long gasp.

Luke relaxed only slowly, muscles gradually loosing, breathing softening. Still, he stared for a long time at the doorway, an intensity about him which Han had never seen before, a wildness in his eyes.

He eventually sat, hunched in silence for a long time, lost in his thoughts, Han not daring to ask what the hell had just happened.

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No one entered the cell for the next three days. Food came sporadically through a narrow hatch which opened in the wall, Luke always knowing a minute or so before, standing to gaze at the wall as if it were a window. Announcing the arrival of new guards or the changing of the existing ones; any breaks in the routine.

Han didn't ask the kid how he knew this stuff, but he was beginning to accept that he just might, no matter how uneasy it made him feel. Luke was always right about when the food arrived--to the minute.

They'd studied the walls for a long time too, trying to gauge how big the chamber was that their cell was set inside, based on brief glances at the depth of the food hatch; how much of a space the vacuum filled--whether their lungs could take the decompression if Luke forced the door. Han had been willing to give it a try, but the kid had reasonably pointed out that if they'd gone to this much trouble, they would have calculated the size of outer chamber needed to at the very least render its occupants unconscious. Han had to admit it would have been a pretty glaring oversight not to, given the amount of work which had gone into this. Though based on the Death Star design, he was still almost willing to give it a go.

A fair amount of their ample time was also put into trying to judge how long before they arrived at Imperial Center. After some heated debate as to how many days it took to travel from Bespin to Coruscant down the Corellian Trade Spine, Luke had won the argument by default when he pointed out the fact that both of them had been unconscious for the start of the journey, which meant that they had no idea how long they had been traveling in the first place--something of a hindrance in working out how far they still had to go. And that was assuming they'd made no stops--and that they were traveling at a constant point-five beyond lightspeed, both of which were pretty major assumptions.

Too many variables and not enough information, and time was ticking down.

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The sound of the pressure cycling which always marked the opening of the outer door dragged Han awake. He felt groggy, like it was the middle of the night, though they never lowered the lights in here. But he'd had to wake quickly too many times over too many years for it to bother him now, so by the time the inner door grated back he was wide awake and scrabbling upright.

Stormtroopers poured in, too many to count.

Han realized peripherally that Luke had already been awake, standing up before the thick pillar he was tethered to, though he hadn't woken Han. It crossed his mind in that moment to wonder why, but the troopers were jostling Han back now, a blaster in his face.

"Hey, easy pal," Han said, adrenaline pumping.

For a few seconds, there remained a tense standoff as several troopers lined up a way back from the kid, blasters trained on him as Luke held them in a level gaze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and emotionless.

"Do it," he said simply.

Han frowned uneasily...

The three troopers directly in front of the kid fired, the suddenness of the action making Han cry out as the combined shots threw the kid back to glance off the pillar and hit the ground like dead-weight.

"Luke!" Han was dragged back roughly by many hands. A blaster jabbed into his stomach, winding him, and when he looked up, it was to stare down the barrel.

"This one's not set on stun," the trooper said pointedly.

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To be continued...

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