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"Is this going on the ever-growing list of Adventures I'm not allowed to tell the Princess about?" Wedge hissed from the barrel to the left.

"Probably, yes." Luke sounded a little sheepish in his own barrel.

"The list she always finds out about anyway?"

"....yes."

Wedge Antilles groaned quietly and rested his head against the metal. Bad enough that they'd accidentally ticked off a local merchant and had to hide in supply barrels until he'd left. Now those very same barrels were en route to somewhere that was probably not anywhere close to their X-Wings.

"Command is going to kill us," he mumbled.

"Better them than Imperials, right?" Luke tried to sound cheerful, but it abruptly fell flat as whatever he was about to say next devolved into very creative Huttese curses. "The supplies are going to a Star Destroyer!" he hissed.

Well. That just made things unnecessarily complicated.

Both rebels stayed as quiet as they could after that. The plan was to wait until they'd been put in some sort of cargo hold, then hop out, overwhelm what few guards there might be, and make a break for it. Luke would know when it was time, he always knew things like this.
And ever since Bespin, Wedge had noticed that he was far more aware of his surroundings than before, watching and listening with something almost like paranoia.

Wedge didn't know what had happened in that fight with Vader -- other than he'd lost his hand and it was a miracle that he'd lived at all -- but whatever it was had changed Luke. He was quieter these days, listened more, pretended he was alright and didn't wear his heart quite so openly on his sleeve. Except with Wedge. Wedge had woken him up from enough nightmares that Luke didn't try to pretend much with his wingman.

The barrels rattled on the hovercart, and for a few heart-stopping seconds they nearly tipped over after exiting a freight lift. At last, the cart came to a stop, and the barrels were lifted down and the footsteps receded. Wedge and Luke remained hidden for several minutes after, cold and cramped but taking as many precautions as they could.

Finally, Luke whispered, "There's only one Imp in here."

"You sure, Luke?" Wedge hissed, "It sounds like he's talking to someone."

"I don't sense another person, it must be a comm call," Luke answered. "We'll have to be careful: he could raise an alarm."

They waited until Luke was certain the man was out of sight range, or at least had his back to them, then both young pilots popped out of the barrels for all the world like a pair of jack-in-the-boxes.
Which was, naturally, when everything went straight to Hoth in a handbasket.

They froze, mouths open in round Os, staring in dismay at the holographic figure the imperial had been speaking to. While nowhere near full-sized, the unmistakable figure of Darth Vader managed to be just as intimidating. Wedge risked a glance at Luke -- as spooked as he was, he was more worried about Luke, who'd actually had close, traumatizing encounters with the...was he a man? Wedge wasn't sure.

"Luke!" the hologram thundered, and the Imperial whirled around, eyes wide.

With an unintelligible squeak, Luke dove out of the barrel and waved a hand at the officer. "Youdidn'tseeanything!" he yelped, then dragged Wedge out of the room at a dead run as the Imperial repeated the slurred order in a dazed voice.

Luke was too busy cursing his own stupidity to answer any questions as they dodged, shot, and punched their way off the cargo deck, leaving Wedge to ponder some things on his own. What had been the tone Vader had used? It sounded almost...concerned. But that couldn't have been right. It must've been outrage or surprise. For that matter, though, who did that menacing monolith think he was, calling Commander Skywalker by his first name?

Wedge couldn't help feeling a little offended on his friend's behalf, actually.

"Left left left!" Luke caught hold of a doorframe and skidded around it, with Wedge hot on his heels.

Skywalker was notorious for getting out of impossible scrapes. Wedge really hoped that Skywalker luck could stretch to two people.
They came to a junction and Luke froze, tilting his head up and to the left as though listening.

"Stars!" Luke spat, sounding almost more angry than nervous.

"What?" Wedge swallowed hard. "What now?"

With a sharp gesture, Luke motioned to the blank wall beside them. "Another destroyer just came out of hyperspace. It's Vader's."

"How did-" Wedge stopped himself. "Nevermind. You can tell me after we escape."

If we escape, Luke silently corrected him. It had only been a month and a half since Bespin. He didn't have a lightsaber, he didn't have a plan, and he was very definitely not strong enough to face his fa- to face Vader.
Vader probably already knew where he was. They would have to use the size of the destroyer and the small service corridors against him if they were ever going to get out.

If it came to it, Luke would send Wedge out in an escape pod and keep running to distract Vader. He and Leia had lost Han, he wasn't about to lose his wingman too.

Description
"Is this going on the ever-growing list of Adventures I'm not allowed to tell the Princess about?" Wedge hissed from the barrel to the left.

"Probably, yes." Luke sounded a little sheepish in his own barrel.

"The list she always finds out about anyway?"

"....yes."

Wedge Antilles groaned quietly and rested his head against the metal. Bad enough that they'd accidentally ticked off a local merchant and had to hide in supply barrels until he'd left. Now those very same barrels were en route to somewhere that was probably not anywhere close to their X-Wings.

"Command is going to kill us," he mumbled.

"Better them than Imperials, right?" Luke tried to sound cheerful, but it abruptly fell flat as whatever he was about to say next devolved into very creative Huttese curses. "The supplies are going to a Star Destroyer!" he hissed.

Well. That just made things unnecessarily complicated.

Both rebels stayed as quiet as they could after that. The plan was to wait until they'd been put in some sort of cargo hold, then hop out, overwhelm what few guards there might be, and make a break for it. Luke would know when it was time, he always knew things like this.
And ever since Bespin, Wedge had noticed that he was far more aware of his surroundings than before, watching and listening with something almost like paranoia.

Wedge didn't know what had happened in that fight with Vader -- other than he'd lost his hand and it was a miracle that he'd lived at all -- but whatever it was had changed Luke. He was quieter these days, listened more, pretended he was alright and didn't wear his heart quite so openly on his sleeve. Except with Wedge. Wedge had woken him up from enough nightmares that Luke didn't try to pretend much with his wingman.

The barrels rattled on the hovercart, and for a few heart-stopping seconds they nearly tipped over after exiting a freight lift. At last, the cart came to a stop, and the barrels were lifted down and the footsteps receded. Wedge and Luke remained hidden for several minutes after, cold and cramped but taking as many precautions as they could.

Finally, Luke whispered, "There's only one Imp in here."

"You sure, Luke?" Wedge hissed, "It sounds like he's talking to someone."

"I don't sense another person, it must be a comm call," Luke answered. "We'll have to be careful: he could raise an alarm."

They waited until Luke was certain the man was out of sight range, or at least had his back to them, then both young pilots popped out of the barrels for all the world like a pair of jack-in-the-boxes.
Which was, naturally, when everything went straight to Hoth in a handbasket.

They froze, mouths open in round Os, staring in dismay at the holographic figure the imperial had been speaking to. While nowhere near full-sized, the unmistakable figure of Darth Vader managed to be just as intimidating. Wedge risked a glance at Luke -- as spooked as he was, he was more worried about Luke, who'd actually had close, traumatizing encounters with the...was he a man? Wedge wasn't sure.

"Luke!" the hologram thundered, and the Imperial whirled around, eyes wide.

With an unintelligible squeak, Luke dove out of the barrel and waved a hand at the officer. "Youdidn'tseeanything!" he yelped, then dragged Wedge out of the room at a dead run as the Imperial repeated the slurred order in a dazed voice.

Luke was too busy cursing his own stupidity to answer any questions as they dodged, shot, and punched their way off the cargo deck, leaving Wedge to ponder some things on his own. What had been the tone Vader had used? It sounded almost...concerned. But that couldn't have been right. It must've been outrage or surprise. For that matter, though, who did that menacing monolith think he was, calling Commander Skywalker by his first name?

Wedge couldn't help feeling a little offended on his friend's behalf, actually.

"Left left left!" Luke caught hold of a doorframe and skidded around it, with Wedge hot on his heels.

Skywalker was notorious for getting out of impossible scrapes. Wedge really hoped that Skywalker luck could stretch to two people.
They came to a junction and Luke froze, tilting his head up and to the left as though listening.

"Stars!" Luke spat, sounding almost more angry than nervous.

"What?" Wedge swallowed hard. "What now?"

With a sharp gesture, Luke motioned to the blank wall beside them. "Another destroyer just came out of hyperspace. It's Vader's."

"How did-" Wedge stopped himself. "Nevermind. You can tell me after we escape."

If we escape, Luke silently corrected him. It had only been a month and a half since Bespin. He didn't have a lightsaber, he didn't have a plan, and he was very definitely not strong enough to face his fa- to face Vader.
Vader probably already knew where he was. They would have to use the size of the destroyer and the small service corridors against him if they were ever going to get out.

If it came to it, Luke would send Wedge out in an escape pod and keep running to distract Vader. He and Leia had lost Han, he wasn't about to lose his wingman too.