"So what do we do?" Finn asked. "Seriously, if this guy is gonna take his ship, where does that leave us?"

"He might allow us to stay onboard," Kylo began. "Possibly."

He'd wanted desperately to avoid this situation. Everything in him was screaming to run, to get out, to never face his father again, but it was already too late. Han would never let the Falcon go, not if it meant he had to forfeit his own life.

And Grandfather didn't want that of him, likely no matter what either of them had to say about it. It was such a change from Snoke, such a drastic difference in viewpoints, and Kylo was still spinning with it. He couldn't kill Han, but he couldn't see him either. He lost control in the Force often, and being confronted with so many memories, on top of the Falcon's own signature, he couldn't know what would happen. And ruining the ship with his 'saber would likely get him killed instead.

"Possibly doesn't sound very definite, buddy." Dameron raised an eyebrow. "You know who it is, right? So, tell us."

"You may not know how to deal with what you hear," Kylo hedged, which only got him a loud snort.

"How long d'you think I've been in this damn organisation? A year? I've seen as bad as you have - worse. I think my fragile form can handle a little information."

"That's not it," he said. "It's who it is. You know him. All of you."

Dameron stopped. "What?"

Kylo inhaled through his nose, and briefly drifted further into his Link with Hux, who didn't visibly startle, but made a confused noise in his mind. You have. Clarity. Focus. I'm in need of it.

Well, I- I wasn't aware that was possible. To borrow skills from someone else. But by all means.

It is possible, but only in the strongest of Links. Thank you.

Hux stared, bemused. Strongest? I've barely learnt anything of the Force.

It's about what we can gain, from each other. How we can become a stronger whole, from two distinct parts. Kylo cleared his throat, then, and said, finally, "The man looking for this ship is Han Solo. It belongs to him."

Rey and Finn both choked, but Dameron only shook his head. "I should've known. He know his kid's on board? Or is that just happy coincidence?"

"He will have a faint idea."

"How's that?"

"He can sense me."

Dameron looked unimpressed. "Seriously, how's that?"

"I'm not sure," Kylo admitted. "He's always had an awareness in the Force, one that he shouldn't actually have. But he's always denied it. He thinks it's luck. But the odds of that are... close to impossible. It would consequently explain why my Force power has grown so exponentially. Blood on both sides."

"So, you're telling me, you, the estranged son, think Han Solo's got Force-sensitivity, and he's out to get us right now, convinced we've stolen his ship. And you said we might be able to stay? You've lost it. Not that you had much in the first place."

Kylo scowled. "He would never open fire on a ship full of probable civilians. Chewbacca has less control over his anger, but he still couldn't do it. They claim they're smugglers, but they've spent more of their life with Jedi than with common criminals."

"Hold up," Finn said. "Hold up a kriffing second, here. What's this about Wannabe Sith being Han Solo's son?"

"Yeah, I know, I don't like it any more than you do." Dameron shrugged. "But yeah, the kid's his. He gets the dramatics from both sides, too, not just the power."

"What- shouldn't you be with your dad or something?" Finn asked. "Like, 'Heads up, Dad, we aren't actually thieves and junkers, and we got your ship back! Please don't tell Mom.'" He paused. "Oh, gods, Mom. Your mom is Leia Organa. Also Leia Skywalker. Your uncle is Luke Skywalker. Why are you here being all- you, when you could be with your legitimate family of actual legends? They're some of the bravest people to ever exist; they saved you. And yet you're spending time with us? Us in the white suits we can't see out of? With the leader of an army that seriously wants to destroy entire planets? Multiple of them. At once. There's something wrong there, man. That's not just ungrateful, it's... kind of like spitting directly in their faces. What in the hells did they do?"

Dameron blinked. "You can tell him five hundred times, but it's not gonna work, not any of them. We've only been trying for the past decade, and he's gotten worse, not better."

The floor beneath him shook. "If you think I'd give a fraction of consideration to a Stormtrooper traitor-" But he couldn't kill Finn, not if he wanted to keep Dameron and Rey without the use of force. To escape from drowning in his own rage, he grabbed frantically at the Link, grappling for Hux's infallible calm, even in his greatest moments of fury.

It came. Not quite Dark, not quite Light, a sort of neutral indifference borne of extreme stress, extended periods of intensive training only the highest of the First Order received. A blend between both, what his grandfather heralded, what he was supposed to be aiming towards. It felt like a gentle breeze in painful heat; not so overwhelming as to tip the balance to the opposing side, but enough of a break to let him breathe. To exist without the crushing weight of each Side, warring with each other to no end.

"You wouldn't know," Kylo said. "You don't have a family." Finn flinched back, hurt seeping into the Force. He shook his head. "No, it's better. You won't be under constant scrutiny, relentless comparison. You're free to do whatever you want. I can only try to be."

Finn looked disgusted at this, a flicker of something pitying flashing over his face, like Kylo was some miserable wretch of a thing, inhuman and incapable of processing basic emotion. "That's what you think of your family? That's what you think family's about? Do you- did Snoke tell you that?"

"Snoke wanted me to see them as a burden, yes, but the pressure I've been under, that's been a constant in my life. Snoke didn't create the idea that I wasn't allowed to follow my own path, he just encouraged it. Now, now I see he simply wanted me to follow his path. I love them, but they won't look at me."

Finn looked unconvinced. "Have you ever actually, y'know, gone up and talked to them about it? Because I get it, it's hard when you don't live up to expectations, story of my life right there, but... how do you know they care all that much about it in the end? The Sith thing, you can guess why that'd throw them off, but just being different, your own self and not a clone of them? That's something anyone could see they'd... treasure." He shrugged. "Best word I could think of."

"It's not that I'm different. Perhaps it's that I've made too many mistakes, that I've got too much of Vader in me. They look at me and see him. Not Anakin, but Vader at the end. A killing... hollow shell."

"So you're too scared to face them?" Dameron snapped. "When Han comes, and he's coming, you're going to talk to him. If you're serious about the whole First Order reform thing - which I doubt, but hey, miracles happen - then you're going to need to be on speaking terms with the heads of the Resistance. And that's discounting the fact that they're your family and they're karking burnt up over you." His face went a little pinched at this, a spark of a bitter memory, tasting like lemonpeel through the Force. "You weren't around to see what you did to them, what you've been doing ever since. Prove you're not His second hollow shell. Talk to them."

"I will. It's inevitable."

"See?" Hux cut in. "He plans to. Now, to prioritise more effectively, how about we first convince Kylo's father we're not here to kill him and make off with his dead body on his own stolen ship?"

"He knows I'm here," Kylo said. "So I must be the one to greet him."

Hux gave him a puzzled stare and sighed, as if he'd come to expect nothing else. Kylo didn't aim to be confusing, he told people what he wanted and how he wanted it done, but he knew his actions were mysteries to everyone else. "How does that follow?"

"I am not a coward," Kylo said, very slowly. "If I back away into a corner, it shows that I only run from my problems, that I don't have the courage to face them. I won't allow him to think that was what I'd become in all our years apart."

"Very well," Hux said. "Show you mean no harm, and don't get our guests killed. Interpersonal issues should never, under any possible circumstance, reflect back onto First Order business."

"I can see why you'd think I would. But this is... different. Unexpected. I'm not angry, only surprised, sad, frustrated. I won't jeopardise the mission objective, Hux."

Hux twisted his mouth a little, into something not quite a frown, not quite a smile. Introspective, displeased. He'd work endlessly to put a rough situation back under his control. "Good, then. Go along. We'll remain here until we're assured the situation is under control. I'd prefer not to die at a very angry, emotionally distressed Han Solo's hands."

Kylo nodded, and walked steadily in the direction of the boarding ramp.

The first thing he thought when he saw his father was that he looked old and tired, in a way he never had before. When Kylo was a child, Han had been frequently exhausted, working as a smuggler, as a General in the Rebel Alliance, and as a new and hopelessly confused parent, but he'd worked through it. Leia and Luke had always known just what to say and to do, while the tiny Ben Solo had floundered uselessly. So much so that he'd throw himself into his father's arms and apologise when his mother and uncle weren't around. He'd felt powerless, never moreso than at Luke's temple, seeing all the things the Force could do, and feeling so out of reach, so unable to help anyone, not even his own father.

And then Snoke had told him everything he'd wanted to hear. And Ben had believed it, all of it, down to the very last word. He'd devoted himself so truly, so desperately, that he'd even agreed to kill the one person he'd only ever tried to help. And in a way, he already had.

In front of him, Kylo realised, was all the evidence that everything he'd ever thought as a child was as far from the truth as possible. Not ever, through all the pain and work they'd all endured, not ever had Kylo ever seen his father look so defeated.

And he was the one responsible.

And remarkably, though he wanted to scream through breath he could barely draw, he stood eerily still and said, "Hello, Han."

There was no doubt that Han had sensed him on board, and yet he still looked as if he'd taken a slap to the face, staring owlishly, eyes unreadable. The look made him feel vaguely ill, off-kilter, tainted, and so he stepped aside and let Han pass. His face was something hollow, but he managed some pathetic excuse for a smile. "What're you doing on my ship, kiddo?"

"We found it rusting to scrap on Jakku."

"And sent it off for special delivery?"

"It was... our getaway vehicle."

Han snorted at this. "You're still getting yourself into trouble. I'm not surprised."

"I may have snapped at a few people unaccustomed to being questioned in any way." He frowned, and insisted, defensively, "They deserved it. They were responsible for stealing our original ship."

"D'you really expect any less on Jakku?"

Kylo shook his head. No, he didn't. He'd come to expect only the worst, but he was ashamed for allowing his mind to wander far enough that he'd forget something so important as the ship's security. Worse even than that, he'd not recognised the ship he ended up escaping on, the ship he'd spent so much of his own youth hidden within. Without Snoke's guidance, he was thrown off-balance, but he was too prideful, too embarrassed to ask Grandfather for help centring himself.

"Ship probably wasn't worth half a credit, anyway," Han said, sneering. "I'm sure a Hutt drunk on spice ale could engineer a better piece of junk."

"First Order engineering is-" Kylo stopped. "Lacking, on occasion. Our schedule is consistently filled."

"Too busy to make anything better than a tin can fly?" Han shrugged. "Damn, I didn't know you were so booked up."

"Father," Kylo said. "I've- that is to say- Hux and I have broken off from Snoke's leadership. The First Order will be ours alone now."

Han stopped. "Let me get this straight. You and that- ginger fanatic are staging a coup?" Slowly, steadily, he began to laugh, until tears stung the corners of his eyes and threatened to roll down his cheeks. "I can't buy it. You're both too loyal."

"All that has changed now. Someone I... deeply respect has shown me the true path of the Force, and the error of my judgement and loyalty to Snoke."

Father was still hesitant. "Who told you? I'll need someone to corroborate this, of course. And not your new partner in crime. He'd easily be in on it."

"Very well." Kylo paused. "Though you could simply sense if I were truly lying."

Han chewed the side of his lip. "I'm flattered you believe in my instincts this much, Kylo, but even they're not foolproof."

"They're not simply instincts," he pushed. "The Force guides you."

"That's not how it works. I don't just get the Force because everyone I know has it."

He'd had this argument a thousand times, but not in years. Not in so many years. Suddenly, he couldn't stop. "No, you have it naturally."

"Say you're not lying," Han said, slow. "What now? You ally with the Resistance?"

"We were hoping so, yes. I need to see Uncle Luke, it's imperative that he teach me what he knows, so I can follow my true path and defeat Snoke."

Han winced, then, aching in the Force like reopened wounds, a grinding, dizzying sort of pain. Like someone was carving him from the inside out. "If you're going to the Resistance in the hopes on getting information on Luke, you're out of luck, kiddo. Nobody's seen him for years."

"But the map. You have the map."

"Not all of it."

Kylo choked, feeling a slow rising panic. "No, no, we have the droid, Dameron's droid. We have the map. You can tell us how to access it!"

Han looked at him with such pity, such sadness, that Kylo truly was tempted to rake scars into the Falcon's hull. "You have a piece of the map," he began, softly. "Artoo has the other piece. And he hasn't been functional for a long, long time."

Kylo was reeling, hands buried in his hair, backing into the nearest corridor, as if the ship herself could tell him the answers he needed. Hux stood there, unashamedly eavesdropping, looking stricken. "I must find him. I must find Master Luke!"

"It's a start, isn't it?" Hux asked. "Something to work with, as opposed to our previous sum total of nothing at all."

Han eyed him. "The fanatic. So the brat is here." A sigh. "It's not much to work with. The two pieces, they're lock and key. Artoo has the key. Has the pinpoint location. The lock just gives you a vague idea. And Luke hides with stupid, stupid talent; a vague idea isn't enough. Believe me, I've tried. We've all tried."

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose, white-knuckle grip tearing crescent moons into his flesh. "It was indeed a test, then, Kylo. We'll have to ask directly from the source. And who knows what prerequisites he'll have in mind before he agrees to hand over the intel?"

Han's eyes narrowed, honed in on them. His suspicion pooled like overflowing liquid, seeping around them in the Force. "Directly from what source?"

"That, I believe," Hux said, solemn, "is going to take some explaining. I'll need a drink. And a lot of time."

"Pal," Han started, and abruptly, Kylo could see he was nervous, apprehensive, about something other than them, "I usually have those in spades. But right now I think we've got ourselves a more pressing problem."

Hux raised a brow. "And what problem might that be?"

"Rathtars," he offered, with a guilty smile.

"Rathtars?" Hux bellowed. "Rathtars!"

Kylo said nothing, only focused every fibre of his being on not ripping the Falcon apart at her seams. The ship shook, and within seconds, their three Resistance refugees were panting with them in the halls. "What's this about rathtars?" Dameron asked, icy.

"Scratch that," said Finn. "What the hell is wrong with you, man?"

Rey turned to Han, incredulous. "You brought those beasts on board?" She paused. "They are beasts, aren't they?"

"I- Yes, yes they are," he started. "I guess I've got a lot of explaining to do myself, huh? Like how I lost the ship in the first place. Or these, uh, unwanted guests."

Rey scowled. "Can we fix it?"

"Hah! Of course! 'Course we can!" Han soothed, in the voice Kylo had always heard from him in his childhood, during their worst moments. The voice that meant he had no idea what in the stars' name he was doing.

Author's Note: OOPS I ACCIDENTALLY

here, have what took place while writing, and it shall explain all:

1:50 AM - ShakyHades: first sentence
1:50 AM - ShakyHades: ouch
1:50 AM - ShakyHades: let me breathe
1:50 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: IKR im killing even me here
1:51 AM - ShakyHades: ouch
1:51 AM - ShakyHades: ouch
1:51 AM - ShakyHades: that hurts

4:27 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: i'
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: i just read a fic
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: and i've never cried
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: so much before
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: it's so
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: moving
4:28 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: it's truly moving and like? wTF DO I DO WITH THIS SEA OF EMOTIONS NOW
4:33 AM - ShakyHades: u harness it
4:33 AM - ShakyHades: and write sg
4:36 AM - ShakyHades: and u kill ur readers
4:36 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: i will
4:36 AM - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: i will do so

Sorry for being late. The end of 2016 was pretty shitty, and then I had school to reckon with, and then I came down with flu. Hopefully I can hurry my sorry ass up for the rest of the chapters.