Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t the first time Han Solo had taken a woman’s clothing off within hours of meeting her. Nor was it the second, or the third, or even the tenth. But it had never been quite like this before.

For one thing, none of those women had been bona fide planetary royalty.

For another, this usually hadn’t been the reason why.

Your friend is quite the mercenary, she’d observed as she’d left the cockpit. I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anybody.

Despite the fact that it was exactly the image he cultivated, the comment stung. His amusement at the Kid’s discomfort eased that a bit, especially given that it created fodder for needling him about the Princess. But doing so didn’t completely ease the low-level unease in the back of his mind.

The Kid had stayed in the cockpit after the exchange, and after a while Han suddenly realized the hold had become suspiciously silent. What was she doing back there? Helping herself to whatever she wanted? Royals usually had a sense of entitlement, after all, one that extended far beyond their reach.

Standing up, he headed back and indeed found her getting into the supplies. Annoyed, he opened his mouth to lecture her —

— and then shut it again as he realized which supplies she’d gotten into, and what she was pulling out. Bandages. Painkillers. A support wrap. Dermal gel.

She’s hurt?

Of course she was. Imperials weren’t kind to their prisoners, and her identity meant she would have been fast-tracked for interrogation. Han swallowed. He might not have been in the Navy very long, but it had been long enough to learn far too many details about the way they interrogated prisoners. Especially the political ones.

If the mark on her partially exposed shoulder was any indication, she’d learned that same lesson in a far more personal way.

She grunted softly as she tried to twist around enough to apply the gel underneath her shoulder blade. There was a nasty-looking bruise developing underneath the scrapes that had been left behind by whatever had been used to strike her.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “Why don’t you let me do that. It’d be easier.”

“Thank you,” she answered, “but no. I wouldn’t want to run up the extra expense.” There was an obvious undercurrent of pain in her words.

“Free of charge,” he replied. “Be reasonable, will you? You can’t get to that one on your own.”

“I’ll be fine until we get to Yavin.”

“But in pain.” He snatched the support wrap before she could get to it. “You probably need more than I have available, but there’s no need to suffer any more than you have to.”

“Captain,” she began again, but then the color drained out of her face as she dropped the tube of dermal gel. Her hands tightened on the edge of the counter until the knuckles turned white.

“Your Highness,” he said, making sure there was no sarcasm in his tone. “How badly are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “Not too badly.”

“Right.” Now he let the sarcasm creep back in. “You’re hanging on for dear life because you want to. Let me see.”

She tried to protest again, but her body was done cooperating. It gave out so completely he had to jump forward to keep her from cracking her head against the counter. After lowering her to the deck, he checked her pulse. It was strong, but erratic, and her breathing was normal.

All right, then. She wasn’t going to croak on him, but at the same time, people didn’t pass out for no reason. It was probably shock, which meant that the first step was to loosen any tight or restrictive clothing. The dress didn’t qualify as that, but her socks and boots were fairly snug. After pulling them off, he knelt on the deck plating with her ankles across his knees. “Your Highness? Princess?”

She stirred but didn’t regain consciousness.

He shook her shoulders gently. “C’mon, Sweetheart. Wake up.”

At that, her eyes opened, but he’d have bet hard credit she wasn’t seeing anything. It took her two tries before she could speak. “What happened?”

“You succumbed to my irresistible charms.” Her eyes narrowed, and Han gave an inward cheer. “Oh, don’t get all worked up, Your Worship. It’s just a faint.”

She tried to sit up. “I do not faint.”

“Then you just did a perfect imitation of one.” Holding her down was way too easy. “Look, you’ve had all hells of a day. There’s no shame in admitting it got to you.”

She quit fighting and sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t have any choice. Think you could make it up off the deck if I helped?”

She took a deep breath before nodding. He was careful to let her do as much as she could handle on her own, but that wasn’t much; before they finished, he had one arm around her shoulders and was steadying her waist with the other.

“I can walk,” she informed him.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Be my guest.”

It only took two steps before she was wobbling again, and this time, he didn’t ask before scooping her up and carrying her through the hold to crew quarters. It’d been a while since he’d been back here, but he’d always made it a habit to keep things ready.

She closed her eyes after he settled her onto one of the lower bunks. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, what do you need? I have a few other medical supplies that aren’t in the med kit proper.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Han felt his lips thin. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that. What were you trying to do with your shoulder before you…?” He tugged her neckline down to examine the area she’d been trying to treat, and that was when he saw that the bruising and scraping extended all the way between her shoulder blades and down her back. “Oh, hells. They did a number on you, didn’t they?”

She flinched away hard. “Captain Solo! Do you mind?”

Oh. He’d pulled the dress almost down to her waist. She wasn’t wearing much underneath it, either.

It took him a moment to recover and flash an irreverent smile. “What’s the matter, Your Worshipfulness? Afraid you might like it if I undressed you?”

“Not particularly.” She started to shrug the dress back onto her shoulders, but then stopped with a hiss of pain.

He grabbed a spare blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Leave it. You’ll just have to pull it down again when I come back with the gel and wrap.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He stood up. “And you know that too.”

By the time he got back from the galley, she was asleep again, though this time it looked like it was just garden-variety exhaustion. Gently, trying to avoid waking her up, he unwrapped the blanket and treated her visible wounds. It took a long time. The Imperials had been extremely thorough, and he was fairly sure that some of the wounds and needle marks were older than others. She’d been tortured more than once. No doubt there were internal injuries to go along with the external ones, but he didn’t have the equipment to handle that.

She twisted and whimpered a few times while he treated anything he could, but thankfully didn’t wake back up. It was just as well; he’d ended up stripping the dress completely off in order to get to everything.

Any other time, he’d have enjoyed the sight of a naked female body, especially one as well put-together as this one. But not this time. This time, the extent of her injuries left him more than a little sickened. What kinds of animals had the Imperial guards been?

Grimacing, he pulled the blanket up to cover her. It wasn’t his job to care. Besides, she’d probably shoot daggers out of her eyes as soon as she woke up and realized exactly how much of her body he had seen.

He wasn’t entirely sure the daggers would only be figurative, either.

Best, then, to leave her in peace.

Chapter Text

He didn’t want to admit it, but the expression on the Kid’s face got to him. All right. Well, take care of yourself, Han. I guess that’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?

For a long moment, he reminded himself that he was never going to see these people again. But Luke was far too young to have picked up so much cynicism and bitterness, particularly when only a couple of days had passed since they’d thrashed the Imperials.

Maybe that was why he’d followed for a few steps. Hey, Luke! May the Force be with you!

Snapping a response to Chewie’s growl, he started loading the strong boxes again, telling himself to ignore everything else. It didn’t work. Despite that and the ambient noise in the hangar, he could still hear the Kid’s voice as he talked to someone. I don’t know. I really thought he’d change his mind.

He risked a glance to see who he was talking to, and then braced himself internally. This answer wasn’t going to be nice. Not coming from her. But then she astonished him: He’s got to follow his own path. No one can choose it for him.

Han dropped the strong box he was holding, managing at the last second to direct its fall back onto the loading cart. It took a second of sliding before it settled neatly, but he was barely aware of that. His mind was too busy reeling over her response, which had almost sounded supportive.

Your friend is quite the mercenary.

He sighed. She’d been accurate about that, of course, and not without reason, or even his own desire. At the time, though, her contempt had been unmistakable. Something must have changed.

Behind him, Chewie rumbled another comment.

“Yeah, I know,” Han answered. “I’ll get a move on. We’re almost done anyway.”

Then he turned and saw the Princess looking straight at him. He could have sworn he saw an almost-answer to his almost-question, right there in her eyes.

There was disappointment in her expression, definitely, but also something he couldn’t characterize as anything other than a deep understanding. There was no anger, only acceptance; and no frustration, only resignation. Something told him that if he went over there and spoke with her, there wouldn’t be any bitter words or last-minute pleas. She’d simply nod and wish him success.

Han’s breath caught and he broke the gaze, turning away and putting the next strong box down with more than the necessary force. His surge of anger made his hands shake. It was a pure anger, unadulterated and unexpected, and stronger than anything he’d felt in a long time.

He didn’t need her emotional charity, damn it! Why couldn’t she just treat him like the low life she’d described him as being? Why couldn’t she stick with the judgmental attitude she’d displayed earlier? Why was she faking compassion instead? Did she really think it would accomplish anything? That she could succeed in manipulating him like that?

It was only when Chewie’s voice intruded into his attention that he realized they’d finished loading the strong boxes. Good. They couldn’t get off this rock fast enough. He wasted no time striding up the ramp and starting the Falcon’s pre-flight warm up.

Hours later he cursed, fluently and long, before admitting he was wondering how the battle had gone. And that he could see that final look in her eyes every time he closed his own.

Chapter Text

This, thought Han, is the reason I hate these things.

It wasn’t so much the medal ceremony that he’d let the Kid, the Princess, and Chewie con him into, as it was the celebrations both before and after. They’d begun with a round of speeches that left him struggling to stay awake. Why did every windbag this side of Coruscant need to stand and offer a congratulatory address? By the third or fourth, they’d all started to sound the same.

At least he hadn’t been asked to stand up and give a reply. Even better, during the ceremony itself, the only person he’d had to look at was the Princess — and he’d indulged his urge to see if he could make her nervous. He’d fully planned to behave himself, of course, but it had been so funny to see her expression when she’d thought he’d do something inappropriate in the middle of all that pompousness.

That moment, he decided, been a just reward for sitting through the speeches.

But Han couldn’t think of anything that could counteract the dancing. This time, he really did have to interact with people, and it seemed most of them had a fancy agenda to go along with their fancy jewelry.

After the third time a less-than-sober technician had propositioned him, he worked his way over to the edge of the room and started sidling toward the door. He needed air. Badly, and soon.

“I’d never have imagined you as someone who hated parties,” came a voice from behind him.

“Depends on the party.” He had to make an effort not to growl, but it was successful. Mostly.

“And I suppose this isn’t exactly the kind you had in mind?”

Leaning back on his heels, he hooked his hands into his waistband and looked around the room again, wishing he’d made it all the way to the door. At least the Princess wasn’t here to come on to him or anything weird like that.

“Too boring,” he told her.

“What would you consider interesting, Captain? Perhaps a demonstration of blaster techniques? Or maybe a straight-out brawl would be more to your liking?” At any other time, he would have thought she was teasing him, but the look on her face was deadly serious.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Afraid I won’t like your little world here?”

Her eyes fell. “My world doesn’t exist anymore.”

Han could have kicked himself. Yes, it was a normal turn of phrase, but in light of recent events, the reference was uncomfortable at best and tactless at worst.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. “But, see, that’s exactly my point. All these conversations and appearances just don’t fit. I’m a smuggler, not a politician.”

“Something you never fail to make sure the people around you know. I’m surprised you agreed to be here at all.”

It was his turn to drop his eyes. Chewie probably would have taken his arm off if he’d left without so much as a goodbye, but she didn’t need to know that. “Just seemed like the right thing to do.”

She pursed her lips. “So there is something human underneath all that bluster, after all.”

That was pretty waspish, even for her, and the silence that fell afterward was awkward. He wondered how long she’d stand there before she would decide to leave and he could then finish his mission toward the door.

Or perhaps, instead of leaving, she could also be called back into the fray. “Your Highness! Could I claim the favor of a dance?”

Han wasn’t sure who the dignitary was, but based on his manner of dress — and the length of his speech earlier — it was someone who at least believed in his own importance. With a regal nod, the Princess acceded to the request and let herself be led back to the dancing. Taking that as his sign, he resumed his slow progress toward his goal.

He got close. By the time the Princess and her partner swept by again, he was within steps of it and there were only four or five more people to get past. Even from the sidelines, though, he could see the distress on her face. If anything, she looked close to outright tears.

It had to be something rough if she was actually showing it. But she could take care of herself.

Even if the thing really bothering her was his earlier inadvertent reference to Alderaan’s destruction.

The justification sounded right in his head, anyway, and by the time he was done thinking it through, he was back out at the edge of the dance floor. It was only another minute or two before the couple came around another time.

Han stepped in. “Sorry, sir, but the Princess is looking a bit tired. Your Highness, may I?”

Surely that wasn’t relief flickering in her eyes! But her tone was appropriately cool. “Yes, actually, I am a bit fatigued. Thank you, Councilor Majliss. I’ll be certain the Alliance’s leadership hears your concerns.”

“So he was pushing you about something,” he observed after they’d finished the switch-off.

She sighed very softly. “I really must be getting tired if it was that obvious.”

“And here I was worried it was because I’d upset you earlier. Guess I have to work harder at it.”

This time, the flicker in her eyes was amusement. “I’ve rather come to expect tactless comments from you, Captain. They hardly upset me anymore.”

He dropped his hand from her shoulder to mimic an arrow strike. “Ouch, Your Highnessness! That hurt!”

“You’ll survive.” But when he moved his hand back to her shoulder, he felt the muscles beneath starting to relax.

“Actually,” she continued, “I’m surprised you even know how to do that.”

“Do what? Cut in? It’s not that hard.”

“No, but it is hard to do well.” She stepped into a turn with him, moving a bit closer to avoid colliding with another couple. “And I saw you out here with Zenna Padlor earlier. She’s known for being a difficult partner since she always has to lead.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad.” At least that luminary had been polite enough to introduce herself — and hadn’t made any indecent suggestions.

The music ended, and he tucked her arm against his as they left the floor. “I’ve had to bow and scrape a time or two,” he explained. “You high society types always think it’s more difficult than it really is. Just a little bit of flattery, a dash of smoothness, and —” he gave her his best grin as they finally reached the door — “my innate charm.”

That earned him an eye roll, but the smile was genuine and he gave an inward cheer. She was really pretty when she did that.

Startled by the thought, Han drew himself up short, but the Princess didn’t notice. Instead, she squeezed his arm lightly and continued the conversation. “Not to mention a taste for the scandalous. Tongues are going to wag after that exit.”

“Let ’em. They won’t go on that long, not after you guys give that evacuation order in the morning.”

She cocked her head. “Appearances matter, Captain Solo. I thought you understood that when you agreed to go through with the medal ceremony.”

“Making the troops feel good is one thing. Playing politics is another. That’s your field, Your Worship, not mine.”

“Someone taught you dancers’ etiquette, though.” Her tone turned speculative. “It’s not exactly a skill that one might expect from a…privateer.”

“Well,” he drawled, “there are a lot of things about me you might not expect. I’d be happy to give you a few pointers, if you’re interested in finding out.”

“I’m afraid not.” But her laugh was easy and companionable, and, for a long, glorious moment, the fatigue left her expression. It was only for a moment, though; afterward, the tiny lines around her mouth-reappeared, and the haunted look came back into her eyes.

“You really are tired.” He hadn’t meant for it to come out that softly, but it was too late to take it back.

She nodded. “It has been a long few days.” She slipped her hand free of his arm, but the gesture wasn’t unfriendly. “Good night, Captain. Thanks for the extrication.”

“Anytime.” He wasn’t sure what it meant that he found himself staring after her, wondering what she looked like when she wasn’t hurt, stressed, or exhausted. If she was pretty now, she’d be beautiful then.

Han turned back toward the Falcon, grimacing. That wasn’t worth the energy it took to think about, because it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

Chapter Text

This departure was harder than the first. Han offered his hand. “Good luck, Luke.”

The younger man took it. “And you. I wish you were coming with us to…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I hope we’ll see each other again sometime.”

Han ignored the reminder that, since he’d chosen not to sign on with this particular cell, he wasn’t in the “need to know” category for the new base location. Yavin IV’s location had been too badly compromised when it had been the obvious base of operations for the attack on the Death Star. Nobody had been surprised, this morning, when the decision to relocate had been announced.

“Yeah,” he said now. “I hope so, too.”

“And good luck to you with Jabba.” Luke shuddered. “There’s a reason none of the moisture farmers have staked claims out that direction, you know. I don’t envy you.”

“I don’t envy me either.” He dropped his hand, noting that the technician who’d tried so hard to catch his eye last night was watching from across the hangar. “Enough with the mushy stuff. Get going or you’ll lose your place in line.”

To his surprise, Luke sketched a sloppy salute before turning around and trotting off, and Han found himself returning it with an equally abbreviated version. It was casual, but not sarcastic; for once, the vague reminder of naval protocol hadn’t sparked any twinges of regret or resentment.

His eyes traveled around the area, noting that this load-out looked nothing like one that would have been done by the Imperial Navy. The camaraderie and joking, the frequent offers to help passing between different ships’ crews, and the general air of hope-driven purpose were all unique to the Rebellion. Among the Imperials, flight crews were expected to stick to the task at hand with a minimum of extraneous chatter, and anyone who deviated from their assigned function — even to assist another — was chastised.

He shook his head, distracting himself and pointedly ignoring the technician, who was still watching him. But as he turned back toward the Falcon, he saw her and his attention was arrested anyway.

She’d exchanged her dresses for a jumpsuit but was still wearing all white. How did she stay looking so clean, wearing that color in a place like this? Even Bria hadn’t been —

No. Not thinking about her. Absolutely not. That’s over and done for good.

“You look lost in thought, Captain.”

Han blinked himself back to the moment. “What’s this, Your Worship? Can’t stand to let me go?”

Her chin came up. “Hardly. I came to ask if you’d reconsidered our offer.”

“Yes, actually.”

The Princess’ expression brightened. “Then you’ll assist us with transport to the next base?”

“No.”

“What? You just said you’d reconsidered —”

“I did,” he interrupted. “And my answer’s still the same. I need to settle things with Jabba before they get any worse, and you’re going in the wrong direction for that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know where we’re going?”

“Oh, please.” He gestured at their surroundings. “Gray fatigues and sun guards? Cases for electronics, so that they can be protected from blowing sand? And you’re fueling for a jump of, what, eighty-five or ninety parsecs? It’s kind of obvious you’re headed for the back of Soterios. Despite it being a bad idea.”

“Why is it a bad idea?”

“Soterios was settled straight from Coruscant.” He met her eyes. “Do you really think you can stay hidden when you’re right under the Emperor’s nose? You ask me, that’s playing with unshielded engines, but it’s your hides, Princess, not mine, and…what’s so funny?”

A half-smirk had appeared on her face. “You think we’re headed for Soterios. Perfect.”

It took a second for him to understand, and then his grin matched hers. “Nice job. It worked. What, were you using me as your everyman or something? If it fooled me, it’d be likely to fool real spies?”

“Not quite.” Her expression sobered. “We wanted to see if the ruse would work on someone who’s had military training, but who isn’t familiar with our commanders’ thinking.”

Military training. Our commanders. Han drew himself up, stiffening. He knew exactly what the Rebellion’s commanders thought. He wouldn’t have ended up so badly in debt if it hadn’t been for Bria’s betrayal in their name.

“Really, Captain,” the Princess was saying. “Do you think we’d have offered you a commission without running a background check?”

Anger flashed through him. “Then you know I was kicked out of the Imperial Navy, Your Worshipfulness. What makes you think I’d have any interest in going back to something like that?”

“Because this is different. We’re different.”

He took a long look around the hangar again. The technician who’d been staring had apparently decided it wasn’t accomplishing anything, as she was nowhere to be seen. “You really think that’s true, don’t you?”

“Don’t you?”

“No. You’re just another group of people fighting over who gets to be in charge of people’s lives.” He turned back toward the Falcon, intent on getting aboard with no further delays.

“The Rebellion is about letting people have the freedom to take charge of their own lives!”

Shaking his head, he began to walk away. Her footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn’t want to let her catch up. “If you believe that, you’re as naïve as the Kid. Look, Your Highnessness, I have things to do, and they don’t include getting killed because of some silly ideal that won’t ever happen to begin with.”

“Even if it means you could pick up some extra cash?”

That stopped him, but he refused to turn around. “I already have what you owed me.”

“A little more wouldn’t hurt, would it? You know we aren’t going to Soterios. But you haven’t asked me where we are going.”

At that, he turned around. “That’s right. I haven’t. Because I don’t care.”

“It’s directly along the path to Tatooine, and using an unaffiliated cargo ship to carry our real supplies would create an extra layer of security.” She closed the distance between them, looking up to meet his eyes. “You won’t betray the location any more than you would have betrayed Yavin IV. Think about it, Captain. Is it really smart to walk away from an easy job, working for a group you already know pays well and on time?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, to tell them exactly where to go and how to get there, but he had to admit the logic in her argument. This cell, at least, didn’t double-cross its privateers, and Jabba was no doubt planning to re-open the topic of that extra five percent — likely with blasters. A reserve would be a good idea, and if it was on the way, what could it hurt?

Your friend is quite the mercenary. I wonder if he cares about anything. Or anyone.

Her eyes challenged him to prove the statement wrong, and that was exactly why he wouldn’t. “Fine. One trip, and just because it’s convenient. But it’s going to cost you, Sister.”

“I’m sure we can cover it.” Her tone was cool, but there was no mistaking the triumph underneath. “We’ll need to go back to the Command Center to go over the details. Is now a good time for that, Captain Solo?”

He met her expression, keeping his sabacc face in full force. Why did he care what she thought, anyway?

“Of course,” he answered. “I always have time to talk business.”

Chapter Text

“There you are, Han, sweetheart! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been hiding from me.”

I was, Han thought but didn’t say out loud. Composing his expression but letting his body language remain stiff, he turned around to greet his admirer. “Calla.”

Oblivious to the unspoken message, she reached up to put a hand on his forearm. “Where have you been? I’ve missed you!”

It wasn’t easy to shrug with a tray full of food in his hands, and Han quietly damned the impulse that had led him to the base mess hall for this particular meal. Yes, the Falcon’s stores had gotten low again, and yes, he was tired of freeze-dried emergency rations. But had the change of pace really been worth the risk of running into Calla Navan again?

I should have gone hunting with Chewie. Even raw meat would have been better than this.

Realizing that the young avionics technician was still clutching at his sleeves – risking the loss of the food he’d come here for – Han pasted on a polite smile. “I’ve been on back-to-back supply runs. There’s barely been enough time to catch a nap in between.”

She batted her eyelashes. “But now there is, isn’t there? That’s a shame because napping wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

His gentle attempts to extricate his arms weren’t working. “I’m about to drop the tray here.”

“Oh!” Her face colored slightly as she removed her hands. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just so excited to see you that I didn’t even think!” She peered at the tray. “But why in all the worlds would you’ve gotten yourself that for dinner?”

“Fresh vegetables are good for you.”

She wrinkled her nose, though her eyes were still dancing. “But they’re boring. Besides, I’d have thought you were more the meat and potatoes type. You certainly have the stamina for it. Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t I sit with you while you eat that and then we’ll have some…dessert?”

He sighed inwardly. It never failed. Within two or three sentences, Calla was always indicating her readiness for a trip back to the Falcon or to her bunk. She was pretty enough, and he’d enjoyed the single one-night stand that they’d had, but Han had never intended for it to be more than that.

Clearly, she hadn’t figured that out. He was going to have to take a more direct approach.

He was careful to make sure they were seated across the table from each other. “Look,” he began quietly. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression –”

“Oh, but you haven’t!”

“I think I have. Calla, you’re a sweet girl and all, but I wasn’t in the market for anything more than a little bit of fun.”

“Well, neither was I. I just thought we might try to extend it a little.”

Couldn’t he be somewhere else right now? Anywhere else? “Listen, I’m really busy these days. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

She frowned. “But you don’t look busy right now, and surely you’ll be here for a few days –”

“Actually,” came a lower female voice from behind him, “I’m hoping otherwise.”

He’d never thought he would actually hear the Princess suggest that he leave. Or that she could ever say anything that would trigger a feeling of incredible relief. “Well, that didn’t take you long, Your Worship. Can’t a guy even have a meal before your precious Rebellion gets in the way?”

She slid onto the bench next to Calla. “You know that old saying. No rest for the weary. Specialist Navan, I’m sorry to interrupt, but can we have the table? The Captain and I need to discuss the details of a job.”

Calla’s face fell, but she nodded. As she got up, though, she let her hand trail across Han’s shoulders. “Well, call me when you do have some time.”

“Go ahead and eat,” said the Princess after a long moment. “You need the break.”

“I thought you needed to talk about a job.”

“It isn’t urgent.”

He gave her a confused look.

“You’ve gone on five back-to-back supply runs for us since we left Yavin.” She met his gaze. “There are more where they came from, but none of us want an exhausted pilot running them. So I’ve persuaded the generals to give it a day or two.”

“Then what…?”

“Specialist Navan is known for being tenacious. It’s a good quality in an avionics technician. It’s not always that great on a personal level.”

He leaned back. “So this was a rescue.”

“We want you to rest, Captain.”

“Even though I didn’t need rescuing.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you so certain about that?”

“I was handling it!” For some reason, he felt warmth creeping up his neck. “And it was just a fling anyway.”

“Not from the way she talked about it while you were gone.”

Forget warm; now his face and neck were flat-out hot, and he knew that if he looked in a mirror they would be flushed. “She would have figured it out sooner or later. Especially after I moved on. Which is why I’m not taking the next supply run.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Because it is time for me to move on.” He gestured around. “I just need a solid meal and a good night’s sleep. But we’re gearing up to leave in the morning.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Well…” he shrugged, noticing that his face seemed to have cooled down. “This was as much a fling as anything anyway. Word on the comms is that Jabba’s getting impatient. If I don’t get back to Tatooine soon he’s going to put a price on my head.”

A guarded expression came into her eyes as she nodded. “I see. Of course, it does beg the question.”

“What question?”

“Why haven’t you gone before now? You have more than enough to settle your debt, I’m sure. And if this was just a dalliance the way Specialist Navan was, then you’ve already been at it about three months too long, haven’t you?”

“Maybe I was just enjoying myself a little.”

“Maybe.” She slid off the bench and stood up. “Of course, that could lead someone to wonder what, exactly, you’ve been enjoying here. Especially since you’re actively avoiding at least one person in our cell.” With that, she headed for the doorway.

It was just as well. Han couldn’t think of a reply.

Chapter Text

With a smile, General Dodonna stuck out his hand. “You’re good people, Solo. You’ll be missed around here. If you do manage to come back out this way…”

Han found his returning smile was genuine. So, he realized to his surprise, was his sentiment. “Yeah. I’ll look you guys up. It always helps to have a steady source of work.”

“Best of luck to you, then.” With a nod, the General went back into the command center, and he found himself facing the Princess. She, too, stepped up and offered her hand.

“Well,” he said, not quite knowing what to say. “Your Highness. I can’t say it’s been boring.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it has been illuminating.”

That wasn’t a word he would have associated with the past few months. “Really. In what way?”

At that, she dropped both her hand and her eyes. If he’d had to describe her demeanor, he would have almost said it looked guilty. But what in space would she have to feel guilty about?

Then it hit him. “Oh. I see. You’ve never spent that much time around us commoners, have you?”

The guilt morphed into indignation. “Of course I have! My parents made sure I had plenty of chances to spend time around non-royals, and most of the people here are —”

“No,” he interrupted. “Commoners. The real ones. Space trash. Like me. The ones your parents would’ve made sure you were sheltered against, if they’d had half a brain between them.”

Her color rose, but she flicked her eyes up to meet his. “My parents taught me service, not separation.”

“Really. Then why that sheepish look a minute ago?” He leaned in to make his point. “Is it because you’ve learned to get along with me even though I’m all about the money?”

Your friend is quite a mercenary.

I knew there was more to you than money.

“No,” she insisted now. “Yes. I don’t know. You certainly haven’t been what I expected.”

It surprised him to hear her admit it. “And it’s been a good lesson. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I suppose.” She took a quick, deep breath and straightened her shoulders, meeting his eyes more confidently this time. “Working with you has certainly been an interesting experience, Captain Solo, and I’ve learned a lot. Thank you.”

His lips quirked into another smile. “You’re welcome. But there’s one thing you apparently haven’t learned yet.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I have a personal name, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you ever use it?”

“Why don’t you ever use mine?”

Startled, he found himself wondering why it mattered, anyway. “It’d be considered disrespectful, wouldn’t it, Your Royalness? And that’s the last thing anyone here would ever want to be accused of, right?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I could make the same argument back to you, especially since you’ve never exactly addressed me respectfully, anyway, flyboy.”

“Flyboy? If the part fits the ship…”

“Exactly.”

Han found himself chuckling. She certainly had a point. Still, he couldn’t resist one last jab. “Fair enough. But I didn’t even know there was anything other than the rebel princess under your skin. Is there anyone who calls you by your name without using the title too?”

“Luke does,” she answered, and he found himself sobering, realizing that while she might have a number of faithful companions and comrades-in-arms, there were few people who seemed to simply offer her friendship. But the Kid was one of them.

“He calls me Leia,” she continued. “Without the title. I wouldn’t mind if you did either…Han.”

“Okay,” he said, nodding, and for once there was no sarcasm in his smile. “Thank you, Leia.”

Chapter Text

“This,” Han argued as he shut down the engines, “is not a happy reunion. We’re here because we couldn’t find work anywhere else. Got it?”

Chewbacca had to be the only person he’d ever met who could make agreement sound more sarcastic than he could. The fact that it was in Shriiywook only made it more biting, but from long experience and a firm need for self-defense, he’d learned to ignore that particular tone from his co-pilot.

Still, he flipped the comm switch with a tad more force than necessary. “Okay, Traffic Control. Millennium Falcon’s at shutdown and ready for ground approach. Thanks for the guidance.”

“No problem, Millennium Falcon, and it’s good to see you back.” He wasn’t able to identify the controller’s voice, but it was friendly. “We’re dispatching the ground crew now, and Captain Solo, you’re requested to report to Command at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll just bet I am,” he muttered.

Chewie’s sarcastic tone stayed at full force as he reminded him that the Rebel Alliance wasn’t an enemy.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed before standing up. “And we can use all the friends we can get right now. I know that too. But don’t you think she could have at least let us settle in before starting up with the demands?”

From any other Wookiee, he could have believed the reply was an honest question. “Well, who else could be behind that ‘request’ to report to Command? As if ‘earliest convenience’ meant anything other than ‘right now.’”

The sarcasm factor crept up by a notch or two.

“Of course we’re here for work. But there’s nothing wrong with taking a couple of hours to wind down. I’d love a chance to say hello to a few people…and no,” he continued before Chewie could interject another comment. “Calla isn’t one of them. Get your mind out of the gutter, furball. That was one time.”

There was a harrumphing sound behind him, but Han ignored it and stomped toward the loading ramp, smacking the controls to lower it. When it reached halfway down, though, his frown became a genuine smile as he saw who was outside waiting for him. “Luke! Kid! Hey, I thought you’d be out on patrol or something.”

“We got back right before you got in,” answered his friend after a back-slapping hello. “It’s local evening, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. The chronos auto-sync’ed for once. Anything worth talking about out there?”

“Nah. It’s suspiciously quiet, in fact.”

“Really? You’re not going to get started with all that having a bad feeling about this?”

The younger man shook his head as they fell into step. “No. There really aren’t any Imperials out there. Makes me wonder where else they’ve gone instead.”

“Hey, consider it a compliment. It means this base really is well hidden.”

“I suppose. And I suppose we could use the downtime. We’d all gotten pretty worn out after that campaign at Faraden, so it’s good to have a chance for some rest.”

“Yeah, well, not for me. Her Busyness could barely wait for me to finish the landing cycle. I’ve already been summoned.”

A crease appeared between Luke’s brows. “Leia? I didn’t know she’d gotten back yet.”

“She’s been gone?”

“Yeah, she slipped back to Sullust to help with some of the mop-up there. Their government wasn’t too happy with how fast we pulled out, so she’s trying to do something to fix that.” He shook his head. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“No, I don’t imagine,” said Han, though his mind wasn’t completely on the conversation anymore. If the Princess hadn’t called him to report to Command, then who had?

He got the answer a few minutes later, after Luke had trotted off toward the barracks looking for a shower. Han had never met Carlist Rieekan, but the man’s reputation preceded him. It also, he was discovering, wasn’t unwarranted: despite his skill as a tactician, on a personal level the Alderaani general had a tendency to rigidly and quickly classify people as “friends” and “enemies.”

And anyone who wasn’t wholly with the Alliance was definitely not in the first category.

“How many times do I have to explain it?” asked Han in frustration. “I can’t accept a commission.”

Rieekan’s tone tended to go softer with tension. “When you left on your last trip, you said it was to take care of this issue with Jabba the Hutt. Why didn’t you?”

“I tried. I couldn’t find him.” They’d gone from Tatooine to Nar Shadaa to Ando Prime without managing to personally connect with the crime lord, although there had been plenty of people who had offered to take him to Jabba. None of them, though, had been willing to part with information about the actual location. Not even for a price.

It was a very bad sign, and during a harrowing twelve-hour layover at Kessel itself — something Han would never have risked if he weren’t on the edge of desperation — he’d learned that his suspicions were correct. Jabba had run out of patience and put another bounty offer out. It wasn’t particularly high yet, but it was already at a level that made things dangerous.

Knowing Jabba, it would only increase over time, particularly if word about Han’s relationship with the Rebels got out.

“If he finds me first, and he finds this base, Rieekan,” Han said now, “he will notify the Imperials. So it’s better if I keep as much under the table as I can.”

“Then why are you here?”

With the Princess, he could have offered a flippant comment. But there was a gravitas about Rieekan that pushed Han into a straight answer. “To see if there are any supply runs available.”

“With, I suppose, proper compensation terms attached.”

“General, I’ve never lied about why I’m here.”

“Have you? If you were truly trying to protect us, you’d have looked for work elsewhere. Surely this isn’t your last resort?”

Actually, he admitted to himself, it was. The Rebels, and this cell in particular, were the only people he trusted not to betray him to Jabba. Working for them would give him a chance to safely lie low while continuing his attempts to track his former employer down.

His sabacc face must not have been working, because the general shook his head. “Of course it is. Well, you’ve done excellent work for us in the past, so I won’t turn you away. Go ahead and take a little down time, Captain, and I’ll add you back on to the roster. But not for anything sensitive. I’m sure you understand.”

Han felt his lips thin as he nodded and excused himself. Great. So the Rebels were only going to put up with him on tolerance now, too. That wasn’t a situation that would stay stable or safe for very long. Maybe it was time to consider heading back to the Corporate Sector for a while.

Another transport was landing next to the Falcon as he got back, but he didn’t pay any attention until he heard the familiar pattern of footsteps on its gangway. “Oh. Your Worship. You came back after all.”

“I wasn’t gone for that long, and I was in contact the whole time.” She came up to stand in front of him. “Unlike other people we might mention. I didn’t expect to see you again, Captain Solo.”

“Well, you know.” He knew he was trying a little too hard, but he reached for a cocky smile anyway. “Can’t get rid of scum like me that easily. Although your new general in Command certainly would prefer it.”

She frowned. “Rieekan said he didn’t want you here? I’ll have to have a word with him.”

The smile slipped off his face. “No. No, that’s okay, Princess. It’ll be all right. You don’t have to say anything.”

“I know I don’t. That’s exactly why I will. You’ll have to excuse me, Captain, I need to report to Command anyway.”

And somehow, despite everything, he knew it was going to be all right to stay.

Chapter Text

Han had to pull out his sabacc face when Leia emerged from the Falcon’s front cabin.

They were a bit too close to the Core Worlds to risk her being out in the open. However, a bit of judicious eavesdropping had confirmed he should be all right. In fact, it was safe to assume that Senator Leia Organa, the reigning Princess of Alderaan, wouldn’t ever be in the company of a smuggler who had a bounty on his head. Thus, any recognition of Han could actually be an asset.

He was trying not to take that theory too personally.

There were other military surplus markets, of course, but the quality of merchandise became questionable the further one moved out toward the Outer Rim. Larger orders would also be less conspicuous in the Core Worlds, and they needed a lot of certain items such as flash-frozen meals and camouflage netting.

So, despite all the reasons for the Rebels to steer clear of the area, it was a calculated risk. Since Leia would never ask anyone to do something she wouldn’t do herself, she’d volunteered. Even though it meant wearing a disguise.

She’d done a good job. Her long brown hair was hidden under a short blonde wig, and she’d used contacts to alter the color of her eyes. A full skirt hid the fact that she was wearing platform boots to increase her height. The rest of her clothing was much more colorful and provocative than her usual service whites. Her makeup was the heaviest Han had ever seen it, and she’d added some extra contours to visually reshape her face.

The overall effect was stunning. In fact, if anything, she looked exactly like his perfect woman. Not that he would have noticed that, of course.

So why was he so displeased about it?

Because you know what ’ll happen if she gets unmasked, you dummy. And it wouldn’t just happen to her.

He tried to convince himself that was what it was, anyway, while he watched her finish a tough negotiation with one of the market vendors. One thing Leia hadn’t altered was her ability to drive a hard bargain.

“You’re bleeding me dry, milady,” said the vendor who had eyeshades and skin protectant for sale. “Five thousand for the lot. That’s as low as I can go.”

Leia sighed heavily. “I’ll have to think about it. Let me confer with my colleague for a few minutes.”

“Don’t take too long. I’m not supposed to go this low, and if the boss finds out…”

She beckoned Han toward a corner. “We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“It’s a good deal,” he observed once they were out of the seller’s earshot. “A full lot of that quality of material would go for six thousand even as far out as Tatooine.”

“I know,” she answered. “I just don’t want him to know I know that. Look like you’re arguing with me, will you?”

“That’s easy enough, Your Contrariness. All I’d need to do is point out that you could’ve bargained him down faster if you’d used the pretty-lady discount.” He made a slight gesture to indicate her disguise. “You certainly went to enough trouble to look like that kind of woman.”

As he’d predicted, her eyes narrowed. “What kind of woman?”

“The kind who’d use her feminine charms to get what she wants. Are you saying that idea’s never crossed your mind?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t expect me to believe that.”

“Believe it, flyboy.” Her eyes met his, a familiar challenge in her expression. “When I negotiate, I negotiate. I don’t use underhanded tactics.”

“What’s underhanded? As long as it’s fair, anything goes.” He leaned toward her. “Pretending to argue about a deal isn’t exactly the truth, you know. Negotiations are always about looks and posturing.”

The annoyance that appeared on her face looked genuine. “Yes, but there are right and wrong ways to do it.”

“Ethics? In business? Are you kidding?” It was a struggle not to start laughing so he changed the subject. “We’ve been over here long enough to look convincing. Let’s go close the deal and get out of here.” His eyes flicked down. “That getup can’t possibly be comfortable.”

“But you haven’t minded looking at it a bit, have you?”

“Now, wait a minute —”

“Isn’t that why you mentioned the pretty lady discount? You’ve been ogling me ever since you first saw me.”

“Are we here to buy supplies or trade insults?”

She blinked and, uncharacteristically, bit her lip. “You’re right, Captain. That was uncalled-for. I’m sorry. Let’s finish up.”

As they walked back to the payment counter, Han shook his head. Looking incredulous wouldn’t be out of character at this point, and their exchange had been threatening to turn sour at the end. What had prompted the shift from posturing to personal barbs?

You mentioned her appearance.

But she made the first snippy comment! he argued back with the voice inside his head.

To be fair, she’d only done so after he had changed the subject and offered body language that could’ve been interpreted as offensive. But hadn’t she understood that that, too, had been posturing for the vendor’s benefit?

Are you so sure that ’s all that was? Maybe it was just a knee-jerk reaction to realizing you really don’t like her looking like that.

He shook his head again. What did it matter, anyway? It wasn’t like she cared what he thought of her appearance.

Based on the looks she kept throwing at him while they guided the pallet full of boxes back to the Falcon, he had said or done something, though.

After the third attempt at re-starting conversation failed, Han sighed. “Okay, fine, Your Worship. Look, I can load this on my own if you want. Why don’t you go ahead and source the next item on our list? This market stays open twenty-five hours a day.”

She arched a brow. “So anxious to get rid of me, Captain?”

“I’m only trying to make the most efficient use of our time. You have any objection to that? After all, you’ve proved you can negotiate on your own.” He’d meant it as a playful jibe, but the tone of his voice came out a little too sharp.

Her lips thinned. “If you have a problem —”

“No.” He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Wait. Settle down. It’s all good. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

There was a long pause before she replied. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me either. I suppose I’m tired and a bit sore.”

“Like I said,” he answered, and this time it came out as gently as he’d meant it to. “That getup’s got to be uncomfortable, so the faster we can get you back to normal, the better it’ll be.” He paused. “It’s really not ‘you’ anyway. You’re supposed to be shorter and dark-haired.”

To his surprise, she blushed. “You like me better that way?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, realizing that had been the source of his disquiet all along. “I guess so. Or at least I’ve gotten used to it. I kind of miss it when it’s not around.”

“That’s…” she took a breath. “That’s actually really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah. I guess. Thanks. Standing here talking isn’t getting things done any faster.”

“True enough. But we only have one thing left on the list anyway: wet weather boots. I’ll head back to look for them.” The smile on her face was tentative, but real. “Then we can get out of here.”

“Okay. If you’re not back before I finish, I’ll come find you.”

He shook his head at himself as she exited the docking bay. What had possessed him to say that he missed her, of all things? After all, it wasn’t like that was actually true. He was just…used to having her looking and acting a certain way. That was different from missing something.

How? taunted the voice from the back of his mind.

Han shook his head again. He might not be able to explain it, but it was different, because there was no way this side of the Outer Rim that he could possibly ever miss the Princess.

“There isn’t!” he insisted out loud to the empty docking bay.

Chapter Text

“This is a sight I never expected to see. Han Solo, scrubbing decks?”

He looked up from his task into a pair of sparkling brown eyes. “They don’t clean themselves, Your Worship.”

“I know that,” Leia replied. “I just didn’t know that you knew that. Or that you didn’t use cleaner droids.”

“Too expensive to maintain.” Unable to decide if he was amused or annoyed, Han settled for sitting back onto his heels and rubbing his hands along his pants legs to dry them. “Did you come by for a reason, or are you just here for some entertainment?” He kept his tone light.

‘Entertainment isn’t a reason on its own?”

So she was in a playful mood, then. His lips twisted into a smile. “Well, yes, but I never took you for that type.”

An eyebrow arched. “What type would that be?”

“The type who appreciates my charms, of course. Which is something I’m sure your royal dignity could never admit.” He turned the smile up. “Even if it were true. Which I doubt.”

“Oh, really?”

Wow. She was in a really playful mood; but it could easily become the kind of play that resulted in verbal dynamite. “Come on, Your Highnessness. We both know better than that.”

That earned him a chuckle, and she came the rest of the way up the Falcon’s ramp and found a seat. Han noticed she was careful to avoid the parts of the floor he’d already cleaned. “Fair enough. Yes, I came by with your last payment for the military surplus mission.” She held up the electronic chit. “There’s a bonus, too. Part of the money we saved with the, ah, negotiating.”

“Good,” he replied. “And thank you. But you didn’t have to come all the way down here to give me that.” After a long night of thinking, he’d finally given direct deposit details to the Alliance. He wasn’t stupid enough to give them the codes for the places he kept his real money. Then again, the particular account he’d given them had his actual name on it, so the decision hadn’t been entirely without risk. That he’d hoped it would demonstrate a little trust to General Rieekan was beside the point, of course.

Leia shrugged, refocusing his attention. “I know. But it was a good excuse to stretch my legs. We’ve been in meetings all day.”

“Better you than me.”

With a sigh, she dropped her eyes. “It’s necessary. But sometimes I feel like I’d rather be scrubbing decks.”

“If you’re offering, Princess, I definitely know about a deck that needs scrubbing. Although,” he continued, wanting to bring the playful mood back, “I don’t imagine you even know how, do you?”

His ploy worked: her eyes came back up. “You’d be surprised what I know how to do.”

“Really?” Rocking to his feet and ignoring his protesting knees, he tapped the bucket with a toe. “Care to put your credits where your mouth is?”

She folded her arms. “Sounds to me like you’re trying to pick up some free labor. Where is Chewie, anyway?”

“Hunting. You’re the one who mentioned you’d rather scrub decks. But I guess it was a figure of speech, wasn’t it.”

Now her chin came up. “Fine. For a little bit. I assume you have an extra scrub brush.”

“Yeah, but it’s back in one of the holds. Here.” He fished the brush he’d been using out of the bucket, shook it off, and tossed it toward her. “Go on and start with this one and I’ll go get the other one. I’d better see something spic-and-span when I get back.”

“Would you even recognize that?”

He was grinning as he headed back to retrieve the rest of the cleaning supplies, and the discomfort in his hands and knees had disappeared. Grabbing the other brush and a second bucket, he headed back into the corridor to find her down on her hands and knees. Her feet pointed toward him, giving him a full view of her backside.

It was quite the view, too. Smiling, he arranged himself against the wall and gave it a long moment before dropping the bucket. It clattered loudly against the deck plating, causing her to jump.

Predictably, the look on her face transitioned from surprise to outrage when she saw him. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

Han hadn’t known it was possible to toss your hair back while it was pinned up in braids. “I thought you asked me to clean, Captain. Not feed into your prurient fantasies.”

“Prurient fantasies?” He hadn’t known people actually talked like that until he’d met her. “What fantasies? You’re wearing a uniform and…oh. You mean about being on your hands and knees. Well, you have to admit, Princess, that is where you were.” Now he mock-leered toward her. “And it sure wasn’t something I ever thought I’d get to see.”

“You —” she was beginning to sputter, although her eyes were still bright. “I should have known you’d have a motive.”

“Who, me?”

“Don’t you even start. Why I came here this evening, I don’t know.”

Han grinned. There was little better entertainment than getting Leia riled up. “You’re forgetting that you came here because you wanted to. So you could get away from your little world full of meetings and diplomacy. You were maybe even looking for some fun —”

She threw the brush at him.

He caught it without missing a beat. “— and some physical activity.”

“I can think of a lot of physical activities I’d prefer over scrubbing decks!”

“Can you now? Care to share some examples, Your Activeness?”

Her expression turned impish. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He dropped the brush in his own bucket. “Sure. You could even demonstrate if you wanted to.”

“I’ll demonstrate something.” This time, she pulled the buffing sponge out of the bucket to throw at him.

He caught it as easily as he had caught the brush and disposed of it the same way. “Keep that up, Sweetheart, and I’ll have to start firing missiles back at you.”

“I’d like to see you try it!”

Han made a tsking sound. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?”

“Challenged me. You know better than that.” Moving as quickly as if he were drawing a blaster, he scooped up a handful of water and launched it in her direction. It hit her before she could react, spreading wetness across her chest and torso.

“Why, you…you…barbarian!” The comment came out as a hiss, but he could see her amusement just underneath.

“Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” he drawled.

Leaping to her feet, Leia reached down into her bucket with both hands to splash water at him. Half of it sloshed onto the floor, but enough hit his pants to soak through to his legs.

“This,” he informed her, “means war. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Bring it on, Hotshot.” She barely had the words out of her mouth before his next splash of water hit her.

She, of course, responded in kind. They capered up and down the Falcon’s corridor, splashing water, throwing brushes, and giggling like children. On one level, Han realized, “children” was right; this was definitely childish and not child-like. But on another, it was good to see the Princess let go and indulge in some pure, unadulterated silliness as a way to let off steam. Her laughter sounded like bells.

His internal musings were abruptly cut short when he rounded a corner at the exact same time she stopped to double back on him. He tried to dance around her, but instead lost his footing on the wet deck and crashed forward, pushing her down. It was all he could do to make sure he landed on his elbows and knees to keep his weight off her.

“Um,” he mumbled. “Sorry. You all right?”

“Fine.” She shoved at him. “Get up.”

“I, ah —” his body was tingling and tightening, breath becoming shorter. What in the five hells? “Give me a second.”

“Get up, Flyboy.” Her squirming became active fighting, rubbing against him in all the best places, even as his mind was trying desperately not to think about it. Her most recent verbal turn of phrase didn’t help matters.

“Leia,” he finally managed, voice husky. “Stop moving.”

She didn’t. “Then let me go!”

Blinking, he realized her struggles had become little short of frantic, her voice higher pitched, her expression akin to flat-out fear. Drawing strength from somewhere, he lurched over to one side. It was clumsy, totally lacking grace, but it gave her the room she needed to slide out from underneath him and get to her feet.

He did the same, using the opposite wall to steady himself. “I’m sorry. It was an accident. It…are you really all right?”

She was pasty and shaking, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her eyes were aimed at him, but he didn’t know if she was actually seeing his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered after a moment. “What were we doing?”

Han took a deep breath, making sure his front wasn’t completely turned toward her. His pulse was slowing, but the evidence of his reaction hadn’t yet completely faded. “Cleaning the decks. Or, at least, I was before you got here and picked a fight.”

“Picked a fight?” The color began creeping back into her lips and cheeks. “As I recall, Captain, I simply expressed surprise at seeing you do something so…civilized. Although I’m not sure all the scrubbing in the worlds could actually get this bucket of bolts clean again.”

“Hey,” he began, relieved at hearing her normal biting tone again. “If you don’t like the way I keep my ship, you’re welcome to leave it to us uncouth barbarians.”

She shook her head, casting a glance around. “There are days I wonder why I don’t.” But then she dropped her arms, and the edge disappeared from her voice. “You’ll need to excuse me, Han. I should get back to the Command Center.”

“All right,” he replied. “And I should finish this before Chewie comes back. Thanks for bringing the payment chit by.”

With a nod, she disappeared toward the boarding ramp, and he looked around again before sighing heavily. There was water everywhere, and while the decks were certainly cleaner, they were a long way from the condition he’d initially had in mind. A bucket and brush weren’t going to do it anymore; he needed a mop and possibly even a water vac.

Not to mention a cold shower. Even as he thought about it, his brain reminded him exactly how her wet, warm, squirming body had felt underneath him, and his body reacted in kind. Damn it. Stop that. For the love of the Ancients, she was afraid of you!

After another deep sigh, he closed his eyes. Ah, Solo, who are you kidding? You’ve wanted to get into her pants practically since the day you met her.

The repercussions of that thought were more than enough to compensate for the fact that the Falcon didn’t have a standard shower facility. Han kicked the bucket aside with more than the necessary force as he headed back to grab a mop. He needed to get the ship into the best shape he could.

Because it was more than time for him to leave.

Chapter Text

“Thank you for waiting before you go,” said Luke as they stood off to the side of the makeshift auditorium. “It means a lot to her.”

Han made a non-committal noise, still not quite sure how he’d even let himself get talked into this. It would have been so easy to quietly slip away during the anniversary celebrations for their victory at Yavin IV. That had been his plan, until Luke had reminded him about this second, smaller, and far more somber commemoration.

Leia was standing stock-still at one end of the stage area, listening to the latest speech. She was wearing the white dress and silver jewelry she’d donned at the medal ceremony a year ago. Her hair was also styled the same way, although the mournful look on her face was a direct contrast to the smile she’d given them then.

Scattered applause rippled through the room, although there were no smiles or laughs. Then the speaker stepped down, and General Rieekan took the podium. Han shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t interested in hearing a recap of Alderaan’s destruction and how they’d discovered it.

“Thank you, Ambassador Lodilyn,” began the general. “We’ll be sure to always remember your words. I’m here today to present Princess Leia Organa, our beloved last monarch, with a special gift.”

Last monarch? Han hadn’t ever thought about it that way, but the general was right.

“The Chalcedony Waves,” continued Rieekan, reading off a flimsy in his hand, “have always been a reminder of our world’s beauty, and when we learned they had been recovered from the Tantive IV’s wreckage, it was great news. However, since the Waves’ enhancements had been left on-world for safekeeping, it was believed that nothing more than the base necklace and bracelet had survived.

“About six weeks ago, one of our Guardians recovered a small box that, when opened, proved to contain the Killik Star.” He stepped away from the podium and opened the box he’d been holding. “It gives me great pleasure to return it to Princess Leia, in remembrance of our past and as a reminder that all was not lost.”

Leia stepped forward and accepted the box, slipping the bluish-purple jewel out of it and doing something to attach it to her necklace. Han didn’t have a clear view from where he was standing, but it appeared to be quite large. At the same time, it lay harmoniously against the rest of the necklace.

She stepped to the podium. “Thank you, General,” and despite the formal tone her voice was shaking. “This is…unexpected, and a treasure beyond price. I’ll be honored to wear it with both joy and sadness.”

With a nod, she stepped back and looked over the assembly. A couple more speeches followed hers, but apparently her brevity set an example: none of them were very long. Still, it was a relief when the formal part ended, and the room began to break into informal groups. Now, Han realized, would be a perfect time for him to escape.

Once again, he didn’t.

Because when Leia’s eyes had finally found his after her speech, she’d mouthed a single word. Stay.

It seemed everyone wanted a moment to admire Leia’s pendant or say a few words to her. By the time Han and Luke actually got to her side, only a few of the ceremony’s other attendees were still in the auditorium. She was visibly pleased and relieved as she greeted the two of them.

Luke was careful not to actually touch her skin as he lifted the jewel for a better look. “It’s gorgeous, Leia. What is it, carved quartz?”

“Quartz and moganite,” she explained. “That’s why it’s called chalcedony. This particular item was originally discovered among some Killik ruins. We’re not quite sure of its significance, but in the historical context…” she trailed off, her gaze going distant. “I’ve always wondered what it might have been like, had Alderaan’s Killiks and humans had a chance to live together, in harmony.”

“I’m sure it would have been amazing.” Luke’s eyes held a deep compassion as he lowered the jewel back into place. “It’s a shame it didn’t happen, but I’m glad they won’t be forgotten.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. Then her lips quirked up at the corners. “Isn’t Rogue Squadron center stage at the celebration tonight?” The remnants of the original Gold and Red flights had recently been reorganized into this single group.

“Yes, but I didn’t mind leaving for a while to support you.”

She brushed her fingertips against his cheek. “I appreciate it. But you shouldn’t let your pilots down. Will you tell them the Alderaanians will be there in a little while?”

“Sure.” Luke smiled and took his leave, exchanging a brief handclasp with Han on the way out. It was his turn to say something, he realized.

“Cute bauble,” he observed, though he thought the better word might be breathtaking. He’d never seen such intricate carving on a jewel, and chalcedony was notorious for being soft. “But I don’t know if it’d be worth its weight in credits on the open market.”

“And that’s your estimation of its value, right, Captain Solo?” She didn’t sound pleased.

“The open market doesn’t care about sentiment or history.” He met her eyes. “So I suppose it’s good that thing didn’t end up out there, isn’t it? ’Cause then we’d have to go chase it down or something.”

“Or something,” she echoed. “We likely never would have even known it was out there.”

“So it’s good those Alderaanian Guardians are out there, then.”

“Probably,” she agreed, and the frown on her features was easing.

“Besides,” he continued. “We’ve got to train our pilots somehow. Guarding a bunch of rocks ain’t exactly the same as dog fighting, but they’re moving randomly enough to make things interesting. So that’s another reason it’s good to have the Guardians.”

She nodded, though her eyes were still cautious. “You have a very utilitarian way of looking at things, Captain. But your points are valid.”

“Oh, is that why you keep me around? Because you need someone who runs on nothing but common sense, in the middle of all these idealists?”

Finally, her lips quirked back up, and a trace of warmth entered her eyes. “I’m not sure I’d exactly call your viewpoint common sense, Captain.”

“Lack of a death wish isn’t common sense?”

At that, she began to chuckle, and her shoulders relaxed a little bit. “It’s just an instinct for self-preservation. Even single-celled organisms have that.”

“Yes,” he countered, “but they don’t have my ability to be so charming about it.”

The chuckle became a full-out laugh, though she kept it quiet. “It’s always about you. Isn’t it?”

“Of course it is,” he answered. He understood, now, why she’d asked him to stay. “It’s my life, after all.”

She shook her head. “Some people never change. Did I hear that you’re heading out toward Tatooine in the morning? How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Han opened his mouth and then shut it again. Now definitely wasn’t the time to tell her he hadn’t planned to come back.

“I’m not sure,” he managed instead.

“Well,” she replied, “I hope it’s not too long. After all, the Alliance can use a good dose of common sense. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he said, thinking it was his turn to be cautious now.

“And I can always use someone who knows the value of things on the open market.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his again, and his retort died on his lips. There was a hint of vulnerability in her expression now, something he’d seen only a few times from her. There was also a shadow he couldn’t quite identify. Regardless, the message was clear: she wanted him to come back.

It was then that Han realized he’d never intended to stay away after all.

Chapter Text

“I don’t believe it,” observed Han. “If this is true, then the Big Freeze must be right around the corner. You’re actually eating, Your Worship? And in the mess hall at that?”

Leia looked up at him, her eyes narrowing briefly. “I do eat,” she replied.

Yes, he thought, but never enough. And you never actually take a break to do it. “That’s news to me. Word in the ranks is you exist on the spirit of your precious Rebellion alone.”

“Cute,” she snapped. “Too bad I’m starting to lose my appetite.”

He set his tray down and took the seat across from her. “Well, don’t start dieting on my account.”

“Hardly.” Then, to his relief, she took another bite. Han lowered his eyes to start working on his own lunch. He’d been closer to the mess hall than the Falcon after spending some time helping a repair crew with the far shield generator, which is why he’d chosen to eat here himself. Now, he kept a stealthy eye on her through his eyelashes. The roasted grains and vegetables being served today tasted good, and she kept eating.

At least for a few minutes. “Is there something you need to talk about, Captain?”

“If I did,” he replied, “I’d be talking. Not eating.”

“Then something’s amusing you. Or distracting you. Would you care to elaborate?”

“What?” That was when he realized he’d been lingering over each bite, more concerned with keeping an eye on her than with finishing his meal. “Oh. Well, not all of us bolt our meals like a starving nerf, you know. It’s not good for the digestion.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen you eat before, Flyboy. It was never this slowly.”

He rolled his eyes right back. “Don’t worry. I’m not lingering or dawdling or whatever it is you’re thinking. Just enjoying the fact that they’re dishing out something pretty darn decent today.” She probably was barely aware that the mess hall meals on Ealor tended to be pretty good. The local settlers were friendly, and the native vegetation was compatible with a wide range of intelligent species.

“The meal crew has been doing quite well here, actually.”

Well, damn. So much for that attempt at redirection.

“So,” she continued, “something’s distracting you. And you’re avoiding the question. What is it? Is there something wrong with me?”

“When isn’t there?” he retorted. “Such as, right now, you imagining things. I’m not distracted.”

“You certainly fooled me.” But then she laid her fork down, and he saw his opportunity.

“Well,” he drawled, “I was trying to be polite, but if you insist on knowing what it was…”

Her eyes narrowed again. “What? Tell me.”

“You have a grease stain on your sleeve.”

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. “I what?”

“Your sleeve. The outside of it.” Putting his own fork down, he reached across to turn her arm over and then bend the elbow, guiding her attention to the outside of her forearm. You probably didn’t even notice when you brushed up against whatever caused that.”

She traced the outline with her fingers. “Hmm. It’s still damp.”

“Then you have time to get it out before it sets. Here.” He picked up his glass of water, which was still about three-quarters full, and moistened a napkin. “No time like the present.”

“We don’t have any soap or salt.”

“If we get to it in time, we might not need any.” Taking her arm again, he started blotting the stain. She allowed it for a couple of minutes, but then, as it became clear he wasn’t having much success, began resisting.”

“Enough, Captain,” she told him. “It’s not a bad stain. I can live with it until there’s a chance to clean it properly.”

“Sure, but why would you want to?”

She yanked on her arm again. “We don’t have time for this.”

He held on. “It’ll only take another minute. Just let me —”

Leia’s next yank was even harder. “Damn it, Solo! Let me go!”

She’d never addressed him by just his surname before, and it had been a long time since she’d either raised her voice or cursed at him, either. Startled, he let go, and they stared at each other across the table for a long moment.

Then, with a sigh, she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. You were only trying to help.”

“Yeah.” But there was something else now, a tension he hadn’t noticed before. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Which meant she wasn’t. “Are you sure? It’s not like you to even take a break for lunch to begin with.”

She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d heard the food was really good down here today.”

That was true enough, but she always could have picked something up and taken it back to her post. He thought about what was scheduled for today and abruptly remembered seeing a launch while on his way out to the shield generator. “Is it because we had to send the Rogues out to scout our next location? Did something go wrong?”

“No.” She closed her eyes. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Opening her eyes back up, she finally met his. “They’re overdue on their last check-in, and our requests for contact aren’t being answered. It’s just the same thing, over and over. ‘Command to Rogue Leader. Please respond.’” Patting her pocket, she indicated the shape of a com-link. “I can monitor that just as well from here.”

“Yes, but it’s not like you to take a break.”

She shrugged. “I was hungry, and there is a nebula between us, after all. It could be just that’s what’s messing up the signals. We haven’t seen any indications of Imperial presence, or weapons fire, or other signs of trouble. General Rieekan thinks it’s best to wait a few more hours.”

“The waiting’s sometimes the worst.”

“Yeah.” She sighed, a long exhalation. “It can. So I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. It wasn’t because of you anyway.”

“It’s all right,” Han replied. “But you know what? Why don’t we swing by your quarters for another shirt and then head over to the Falcon? I have some soap, and if you use my auto valet you won’t have to wait in line for the ones down at the barracks.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Trying to get me to undress, Captain?”

His reply was a chuckle as he relaxed into their familiar banter. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing there I haven’t already seen. But the next time’s gonna be because you decide to show it to me.”

“That’ll be a hot day on Hoth.” But she was returning his smile as they stood up, dumped their trays, and headed toward the door. He breathed an inward sigh of relief. They’d never discussed the fact that he’d undressed her while she was unconscious on the day they’d met, though there was no doubt she’d figured it out once she woke up. Fortunately, it seemed that the time between had taken any uncomfortable edges off the memory.

They fell silent as they made their way through the corridors toward her quarters, and Han found himself thinking about Rieekan’s decision to wait. Did he really think the Rogues were likely okay? Or was his caution indicative of a fear that sending additional fighters might give away their originating position? How many of them were out there, anyway?

“Hey,” he asked. “Did Rieekan send the entire squadron out scouting?”

“Yes, but not all to the same place. Two of the groups have reported in. The third one hasn’t.”

“What’d those first two groups find?”

“Everything seems safe, but they haven’t had any luck locating the third group either.”

“Which group was Luke with?”

Leia frowned. “Take a guess.”

“Great,” he muttered. “As if that light saber doesn’t make him into a magnet even without the other guys.”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied as she palmed her door lock. Then her lips thinned. “He’d better be.”

“Hey,” he told her. “Don’t start that. The kid can take care of himself.”

She nodded as she looked through the shirts that were stored in a locker under her bunk.

“C’mon, Leia, you said it yourself. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” But it seemed to be taking an awfully long time to find that replacement shirt.

“What, are you trying to find a special one or something? They all look like white uniform shirts to me.”

“I’m just…” she trailed off. “I can’t stop thinking about the squad. They said they’d call me as soon as anyone heard anything, but maybe I should go back to Command.”

“The stain’ll set if you do. Do you have enough shirts to spare losing one?”

She straightened. “It’s just grease.”

“It probably wouldn’t have even happened if you didn’t insist on wearing long sleeves every day.” His own were rolled up to the elbows, something he’d done before starting work with the shield crew. “It’s not that cold here.”

“Long sleeves look more professional.”

“And looks matter in the middle of a rebellion? I guess there’s still a princess in you after all.”

She drew herself up. “Professional appearances are always appropriate.”

“Don’t.” He waved a hand. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture on the topic.”

“You could certainly use a lecture on professionalism.”

“Now, see here —” but he broke off at as he recognized the insistent chirping sound.

She plunged a hand into her pocket to pull out the com-link and then flicked the switch. “Yes?”

“Your Highness, we have word from the squadron. They’re on their way back.”

“What happened?”

“We’re getting the telemetry in right now from Commander Skywalker.”

Han leaned over into the com-link’s pickup zone, pushing the fresh shirt out of Leia’s hands. “We’ll be right there. Come on, Your Worship.”

It wasn’t until they were almost at Command that he realized he’d never dropped her hand after pushing the shirt out of it. And that she hadn’t uttered a word or protest.

Chapter Text

He’d always prided himself on his ability to wake up quickly and completely, but it was only after several minutes of floating, giving himself over to the rhythm of the monitor’s beeps, that Han realized he hadn’t been particularly quick this time. He was waking up slowly, and awareness was coming to him in bits and pieces instead of all at once.

The reassuring, measured tones gave him something to focus on, and he used that as he stirred and blinked. It was bright in here. Too bright. His cabin lights couldn’t get that bright. Had there been a power surge? Han pushed himself through the layers of consciousness. If there was a problem with the electrical system, he needed to get up and handle it as quickly as —

He wasn’t in his cabin.

That particular understanding hit him around the same time he realized the beeping he was using as his focus wasn’t normal.

Forcing his eyes all the way open, he finally understood he wasn’t on the Falcon at all. He was in Ealor base’s medical bay.

What am I doing here?

A curtain swished aside to admit one of the Two-Onebee medical droids. “I saw the rise in your vitals. Awake now, Captain Solo?”

He licked dry lips to moisten them, but it still took a couple of tries to respond. And his body’s responses were still far too sluggish. “I guess. What happened?”

The droid adjusted something near his arm. “Do you not remember?”

Annoyance flashed through him, but the response came out as a croak. “Would I be asking you if I did?”

Moving up to his face, the droid flicked a light on in one of its fingers and shone it in his eyes. “Pupil response is returning to normal, and you recognized your name. Do you know where you are, Captain?”

He shifted away from the probing light. “Medical. I think.”

“Correct. And today’s date?”

It took a second, but the series of numbers came back without too much effort. “Why all the questions?” he continued.

“Cooperate with me, please, sir. You know the date, but do you know what time it is?”

“How am I supposed to know that? I don’t even know how I got here.” He began to shake his head but realized doing so was a mistake. Fortunately, there seemed to be anti-nausea medication in the drip the droid had adjusted. “It’s probably afternoon by now. Maybe even evening. I hit my head, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir, you did. But you seem to be coming out of it well. What is the last thing you remember?”

He closed his eyes again, concentrating. “The Falcon. Upper primary plating. I was…” he trailed off, remembering the sight of fresh black streaks against the hull metal. They’d concerned him, but try as he might, he couldn’t remember why. “Something was wrong up there. I don’t know what it was.” He began to sit up. “I need to go back and look —”

“Sir, please lie back down.” To Han’s surprise and disgust, the droid was able to hold him down. “You are not yet in a condition to leave.”

“What happened, then, damn it?”

“Getting agitated will not help your condition.”

“Then answer my questions!”

“Captain Solo, you need to calm down.” The droid’s grip tightened.

“No,” he snarled. “What I need is to take apart and your motivator and —”

He hadn’t even heard the swish of the curtain behind the droid, but the voice of the person who’d moved it stopped him. “Settle down, Han. Now.”

Leia.

Taking a breath, he reconsidered the situation and reminded himself that the droid, annoying as its attitude might be, was attempting to treat him. He must have hit his head pretty hard if he was still this confused.

Focusing his eyes on her face, he stopped struggling and let the droid guide him back down. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

She glanced over at the droid, which indicated assent. “Chewbacca says you were tracing a sensor fault of some type and found carbon scoring where there shouldn’t have been. You pulled the hull plating off to look underneath, but you must have forgotten the wiring was still live.”

“No, I didn’t,” he answered, barely remembering not to shake his head. “I’d have cut the power before doing something like that.”

“The circuit breaker was on.” She picked up one of his hands and showed it to him. There were thin burns across the fingers. “It’s a good thing you were thrown clear instead of electrocuted.”

“Testing indicates there may have been some mild shock,” corrected the Two-Onebee droid.

“Is that why I can’t remember what happened?”

Leia turned his hand over, but didn’t let it go, and he tried not to think about how much he liked that. “It’s normal not to remember an accident when you hurt your head. I’m surprised you haven’t had it happen before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I’m sure you’ve hit your head before while taking care of that flying bucket of bolts. Of course,” she continued, “that could be the problem. Since you never remember doing it, you never remember why it’s important to be careful.”

“Leia,” he managed. “I would have thrown the breaker before working on electrical wiring. I don’t have a death wish.”

“It was a sensor fault, not an electrical fault, so you probably didn’t think it was necessary. And I can’t believe I just got away with that.” She looked at the medical droid. “Is he still under sedation?”

“Active administration has stopped, but there has not been sufficient time for lingering effects to fade.”

“What are you talking about?” He was getting annoyed again. “I’m not sedated. I’m awake.”

“Yes, but you didn’t notice when I called the Falcon a flying bucket of bolts.”

It took a second to process that, and a second longer to come up with a reply. “Maybe it’s because you’ve done that so often I’ve gotten used to it.”

She snorted delicately and squeezed his hand. “That’s difficult to believe. Of course, I also thought you were hard-headed enough to stand up to some bumps. I guess we’re finding out differently, aren’t we?” Her smile had an edge to it, and there was something hard lurking behind her eyes. “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

“Can’t have been too long. I got the date right.”

“Yes, but only barely. It’s almost midnight. You were out for about twelve and a half hours.”

“Oh. Damn. There’s too much to be done.” He tried to sit up again. “Where’s Chewie?”

“Getting some rest. We’ve been switching off shifts.”

“Captain Solo,” said the droid. “We need to hold you for observation. Please cease your attempts to get up.”

“I don’t need observation!” he snapped. “I need to get back to the Falcon. If something’s wrong with it —”

At that, Leia dropped his hand and stood up. “Fine. Get up and walk back to the hangar.”

“Your Highness —”

“No. If he wants to go, let him. Of course,” she continued, looking back at him, “you do need to get dressed first.”

He hadn’t even realized he was only wearing a hospital shift. “Where are my clothes?”

She gestured behind the curtain.

Sliding to his feet, he pushed off the bed to go get them. Two steps later, everything started spinning. She immediately slid under his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. The droid echoed her actions on his other side, and the three of them lurched back toward the bed.

“Now will you lie down and let the droids keep an eye on you for a while? Just until everything’s back to normal. Or whatever passes for normal for you, anyway.”

It was taking everything he had not to vomit or pass out again, so he closed his eyes in assent. He could feel her hands on his legs, lifting them back up onto the bed, and then a soft warmth settled over them. It spread to his waist and then to his chest before he was able to open his eyes back up and realize it was a blanket. Leia finished pulling it up and tucked it around his shoulders.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Thanks. Sorry.”

Her expression changed again. “Now I know you’re not all the way back. Apologizing to me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

There was a brush of something against his cheekbone, and as she drew her hand away, he realized it had been her fingertips.

“That’s better,” she told him. “Get some rest.”

It sounded like a terrific idea. Han shut his eyes again, trying to also shut out the annoying sound of the monitors and the aftereffects of his abortive attempt to leave. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well get some more sleep.”

“He will probably rest for some time now, Your Highness. If you wish to return to your duties, I will notify you as soon as he is ready for release.”

“No, I’ll stay. Chewbacca will be here in the morning.” Leia’s voice sounded far away, as though she were at the other end of a tunnel. “If there’s a chair or something, I wouldn’t mind dozing myself.”

“I will acquire one. General Rieekan called for you a few minutes ago. I logged the call as we were assisting Captain Solo.”

There was the sound of a sigh. “Doesn’t he realize what time it is?”

“He said it was urgent, and that you had not been in Command at all this afternoon.”

“I spent the afternoon here.” Her voice had gotten acerbic. “But if it’s urgent, bring me a com-link along with the chair. He’d better hope it really is that important.”

That’s the spirit, Han thought through his increasing drowsiness. It was good to hear Leia insisting on taking personal time, even if it wasn’t actually resting. Her face swam in front of his closed eyes and now he saw the lines that had been around her mouth, the hollows in her cheeks, the slight tremor in the hands that had held his. She’d been exhausted when he woke up. And worried.

Because she’d been here all afternoon? he wondered. Watching over me while Chewie finished the repairs?

No, he decided a moment later. I’m imagining things. She never would have sat vigil over him. It must be something else. Labeling the thought as a by-product of his head injury, he banished it and reached again toward the pleasant blackness of sleep. This time, it worked.

Chapter Text

“Check the coordinates again,” he told Chewie.

A rawr of frustration was the only reply.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. I asked you to double-check that we’re at the right location.” They’d come out of hyperspace to complete radio silence, although a visual check of the area showed everything they were expecting to see. Everything, that was, except the Rebel Alliance’s cell. There wasn’t even a landing beacon transmitting a message.

Han had landed at Ealor enough times that he didn’t need the beacon anymore, but its absence was a blaring warning sign.

Chewie transferred the readout on his monitor over to Han’s, accompanying the action with an indignant comment.

“We were on good terms with Rieekan and the rest of the leadership,” Han argued back. “Why would they evacuate without telling us where they were going?”

There were any number of explanations. His co-pilot began to enumerate some of them, but Han waved his hand. “I know. I know, all right? Operational security and all that. Find that list of alternates we had a couple months ago, will you? I’ll run a wider-beam scan to look for any other clues.”

With a mutter, Chewie got back to work. They’d happened onto a lot of near-fresh citranges, and they’d packed them into the front hold since it had refrigeration capabilities. But he had no illusions: at the price he’d scored, the produce wouldn’t last very long. Still, since the rebels had had some cases of scurvy start popping up, he’d figured they would be welcome.

If they didn’t find their quarry in time, though, they’d turn bad. He’d be out both the credits to buy them and whatever it cost to clean the lingering stink out of the hold once he’d dumped them. Citranges weren’t known for their mild aroma.

Han shook his head, refusing to consider the possibility. They’d find the new base in time. “You got that list yet?”

In reply, it popped up on the screen.

“Hmm. Which one of these should we try first? Defiant Core’s pretty close, and they wouldn’t have been able to pull out this fast if they’d gone very far.”

Chewie shrugged, and he reluctantly agreed. There was really no way to guess where they’d gone. There wasn’t even any guarantee that the rebels’ new location was even on the list they had.

“Well, we’ve got enough fuel to look for a while, at least. Let me — oh, damn it, not another glitch!”

The hyperdrive computer’s orientation module had abruptly reset itself. Swearing again, Han switched it back to its previous configuration.

It paused there for about fifteen seconds before switching back to the new configuration.

“Chewie, is there some sort of signal interference in the area?”

With a noncommittal comment, the Wookiee began scanning. It took a good half hour before they traced the interference to an insignificant-looking piece of space trash, and another three hours after that before they finally figured out what was so special about it.

Five hours after that — and after Han had checked the cargo several times — they decelerated into orbit around Merilus Prime. When they switched comm frequencies, the landing beacon came through loud and clear.

Han couldn’t hide his smile as he disembarked to find Leia standing at the bottom of the ramp.

“That was pretty slick,” he told her. “Screwing up our navigation so we’d trace the source to that coded message of yours. Weren’t you worried it’d catch someone else first, though?”

“I figured nobody would believe the code was that simple.” She’d used a basic alphabetic cipher, although it had been in the Huttese alphabet instead of Aurebesh. “Besides, there was an auto-destruct on the probe underneath the wreckage. If you had been any later, you really would have been on your own.” She peered up the ramp. “What kept you?”

He rocked back on his heels. “How’d you like some almost-fresh citranges?”

“Really?”

“Yep. So aren’t you glad you left the probe behind? Otherwise you’d have ended up missing out on the fruit. Not to mention an opportunity to see me again.”

Her lips quirked. “The benefit of one is worth the cost of the other.”

“Hey, Your Worship, you didn’t have to leave that probe behind at all, you know. How’d you get it past Rieekan’s paranoia?”

She ducked her head briefly. “How many citranges were you able to pick up and how much longer do you think they’ll last?”

“You’ll want to unload and distribute them as quickly as you can, but you’ve probably got around a half-day left. And there’s enough for everyone.” He considered her. “Did Rieekan even know about the probe?”

“Let me go get the deck crew started.” Still avoiding his eyes, she scurried off toward the deck officer. Han looked after her, shaking his head and chuckling as he began the post-landing checks.

“Nice to see you, Captain Solo.”

He looked up from inspecting a landing strut to see Rieekan himself. “General.”

“I hear you’ve brought us some citrus to help with the scurvy.”

“Yes,” he replied, his tone still wary. The general was rarely seen outside of the Command Room. What had brought him out now? “We lucked into them right as we were finishing up with the rest of the supplies, sir. Cost us an extra day, but I figured it was worth it.”

Rieekan nodded. “Good call. How did you find us after the evacuation? We had to leave rather suddenly, and there was no way to broadcast a message. You’re not the only ones who were left behind.”

“I, ah…” Han trailed off, realizing the question meant that the general hadn’t known about the probe Leia had left behind. Merilus Prime hadn’t been on their list of alternate locations, either. “I remembered hearing talk about this place as one of the alternate-alternates. It wasn’t too far off the space lanes from Ealor, so I thought I’d give it a try. Don’t worry, sir. I don’t think security’s been breached. I wouldn’t have even thought about coming here otherwise.”

“Hmm. You do know that the Princess wanted to leave a beacon behind, don’t you?”

He pulled out his sabacc face. “She did?”

“We had quite the argument, but it was too much of a security risk. She was terribly upset at the idea of losing you.”

Do not look around the floor for her, he told himself. “Well, it’s harder to get rid of me than that.”

“I can see that now. That’s a valuable skill, you know, to be able to remember a single conversation so well. It’s just one more reason we’d love for you to join us officially.” Rieekan held up a hand. “Let me finish before you protest. I know why you won’t. I just wanted to tell you it’s a shame, because we are glad to see you.”

Han clamped his lips around any sarcastic retorts that might come out. “Thank you, sir.”

With a nod, Rieekan left, and Han watched him go. He blew out a long breath. That had been pretty close.

But now that he was gone, it was safe to scan the hangar floor for a white uniform and dark hair. She must have already gone back to Command, though, because he didn’t find her.

Apparently, though, it seemed that she at least wanted him to. Sometimes.

Han grimaced. As if she’d ever admit to anything like that.

Still, it was definitely…interesting.

Shaking his head, he started the post-landing inspections again.

Chapter Text

Han flipped a switch, checked a readout and breathed a cautious sigh of relief. According to what he was seeing, the targeting and engine computers had finally come back into sync with each other. It had been driving him crazy not to be able to fire the Falcon’s dorsal blaster without risking it crossing against one of the engine’s periodic exhaust pulses and thus starting a conflagration.

Of course, that trick had actually worked for him once, coming out of Dravidos. But it hadn’t been intentional; the engine readouts had glitched and he’d actually thought he was still on antigravs.

That memory reminded him that sensor readings weren’t always to be trusted. Grimacing, Han flicked the com-link. “All right, Kid, give it a try.”

“I’m setting the damping baffles now,” replied Luke from outside the ship. “Go ahead and fire.”

Double-checking that he was dialed down to one-percent power, he rotated the gun and fired directly behind the Falcon, just underneath the engine’s exhaust ports. “We got a pattern match?”

“Hang on, the comp’s checking. Okay, yeah. The blaster bolts and exhaust pulses fired a thousandth-second apart. Is that what you needed?”

“Yeah. We need to run the test a couple more times, though. You got the time?”

There was a hesitation before the reply. “I can make it.”

Han frowned at the pickup. “What does that mean?”

An audible sigh preceded Luke’s next transmission. “There’s a pickup game of shockball tonight. Rogue Squadron versus the Construction Crew.”

He whistled. The Rebels’ intramural competitions could sometimes be as good as the pros, and those were the two strongest teams. Luke himself had some surprisingly good shockball moves. “You don’t want to miss that. Go on. We can finish this up tomorrow.”

“No, we’re almost done.”

“Hey, I’d love to get a load of that game myself. Go on. Do the Rogues proud.”

“Are you going to come watch?”

Han stared at the readouts and sighed. The calibration still needed some fine-tuning, and then he needed to make sure that the fix hadn’t thrown the ventral blaster’s timing out of sync. Chewie had begged off, pleading fatigue, and truth be told the Wookiee often lost patience with the absolute precision this type of work required.

He realized Luke was still on the other end of the open com-link channel. “Maybe if you guys go into overtime. But I can finish this up by myself. Get out of here.”

“If you’re sure …”

“You’re making me repeat myself.”

A new voice came over the line. “It’s all right. I can help him with the testing.”

Despite his fatigue and irritation, Han felt a smile form. “Aren’t you busy with important Rebel business, Your Worship?”

“Keeping our supply ships flying is Rebel business.” That comment hadn’t come from the com-link, he realized; instead, Leia had come up the boarding ramp. She held the portable comp in her hands. “What exactly are you testing, anyway?”

“Pulse coordination between the blasters and engine exhaust.”

She grimaced. “That sounds...tedious.”

“It is,” he admitted. “You don’t have to help with this either, you know.”

“But you’d rather get it over with.”

He couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or amused that she could read him that well. “Yeah. Now that it’s started, anyway. But I can finish it up by myself.”

“It’ll go faster with two people,” she pointed out. “Show me what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

He talked her through the process, briefly going outside with her to show her how to set the energy-absorbing baffles and get an accurate reading of the different systems’ frequencies. “We got a good reading before. Just need to make sure it repeats.”

It did, to his relief, and he responded by sending her up through the upper hatch to take readings as he fired the ventral blaster. The first test went fine, but just as he was about to call out to start the second one, he heard a thump and a soft curse.

“Hey, Your Worship,” he called. “You all right back there?”

“I’m fine. I just —” her tone betrayed some strain. “Lost my footing. Need to climb back up.”

“We’re not moving, you now.”

“No, but the recoil from the blaster caught me by surprise.” There was a scrabbling noise. “I wasn’t braced the right way.”

“Oh.” He pushed up from the cockpit seat. “Yeah, there’s a little trick to it. Let me show you —”

“I’m all right.”

“It’ll only take me a second,” he argued as he rounded the corner to find a disheveled Leia at the bottom of the hatchway ladder. One of her braids had come unpinned and was hanging down at her side; the other was ringed by a cloud of pulled-out strands.

Han considered her. “Did you hit your head?”

“No, that’s your specialty. Just caught myself on one of the rungs.” She colored slightly. “I just need a few minutes to put myself back together.”

“Sure,” he answered. “Go ahead.”

“Is there…” she trailed off. “Can I borrow the fresher?”

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“No.” The blush got darker. “I need to take my hair down and re-do it.”

That mystified him. “You need the fresher for that?”

Now she was almost bright red. “Alderaanian women don’t take their hair down around unrelated men.”

“You’ve worn it loose in public before.”

“But not completely unbound. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll just…” now he was the one who trailed off, feeling awkward. “Go up and check the baffles. Or something.”

Part of him was fuming. Most humans didn’t attach much cultural significance to hair styles, and he wasn’t Alderaanian. How had he been supposed to know that they were an exception?

Give her a break, another part reminded him. She probably doesn’t understand the full significance of your blood stripes. Few non-Corellians knew more than the superficial basics.

The part of him that bothered him the most, though, was the one that wondered what her hair looked like when it was completely unbound. He wasn’t even sure exactly how long it was, but there had to be some significant length to create the kinds of styles she wore. When it was loose, it no doubt cascaded behind her in a shimmering, sable curtain.

It was probably absolutely gorgeous.

Stop that! he told himself. Focus on the testing. Besides, she’d never consider willingly letting you see that part of her.

Of course, he’d have bet she wouldn’t have been willing to disobey a direct order on his behalf, either.

Han shook his head. If he wanted to see a woman’s hair, he had plenty of opportunity. Even Calla had been hanging around a little bit more lately, although she took great pains to pretend that she was unaffected by the blunt, nearly brutal, rejection he’d finally had to issue.

“Pathetic,” he muttered. “You’re a leg man anyway.”

“What was that?”

Startled, he looked down to see that she had returned, hair freshly braided and pinned. “Nothing.”

She cocked her head but didn’t offer a reply. Instead, she began climbing back up toward the hatch. “Come on. If we can finish this quickly, we might be able to catch the end of that shockball game.”

He couldn’t help noticing the rather nice shape of her thighs and calves as they moved past his line of sight. “I didn’t know you were into shockball.”

“Not at the professional level. But I follow our teams here.” Above him now, she looked down. “Not just for morale, either.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you thought it, didn’t you? Just like you’re wondering what my hair looks like when it’s down?”

Han raised his eyebrows. “What if I am? You’re the one who brought it up. Or down, as it would be.”

Moving carefully, Leia wrapped her arms and legs into a brace position and reached out to pick the comp back up. “There is one situation that an Alderaanian woman would take it down in the presence of an unrelated man.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled and an impish look appeared on her face. “And you can probably guess what it is.”

His lips quirked into a smile. Was she actually flirting with him? “Are you trying to suggest something, Your Sassiness? Or just see if you can get me to embarrass myself again?”

“You can be embarrassed?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Oh, yeah, she was flirting, all right. “Captain, I hardly lie awake at night wondering about you.”

“Well, I’ll just have to try to change that, then, won’t I?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He rocked back on his heels, startled. That had gone a bit beyond trading quips. “Princess, you should know better than to issue that kind of challenge. ’Cause I might just take you up on it. Maybe even win.”

“All talk, Hotshot.” Her eyes were hooded now, and she waved him back toward the cockpit. “Get back up there. We don’t want to miss the game, do we?”

He was grinning as he strode back down the corridor. No, he definitely didn’t want to miss the game, although he had to admit that the latest exchange almost would have made it worth it. It almost sounded like she’d wanted him to press her about the chance to see her let her hair all the way down.

Han shook his head, trying to tell himself that he’d been imagining things. Any attraction between them was one-sided. He’d figured that out a while back.

But then again, a traitorous part of his mind suggested, she could have gone with Luke and watched the entire game.

Chapter Text

He bodily knocked Leia down when she stepped into the corridor.

It hadn’t been his fault. Really. Han had been concentrating on the flimsy in his hand, going over the latest supplies-needed lists and trying to figure out which ones he might be able to chase down. The fact that he was also walking down a corridor and listening to Bren Derlin talking about the latest shockball tournament was only tangential.

Regardless of reason, though, he didn’t hear the door open and didn’t realize what was happening until Leia was already sprawled on the floor in front of them.

An expression of shock appeared on Derlin’s face. “Your Highness! Are you all right? Do we need to take you to medical or —”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “It takes more than Captain Solo’s inattention to harm me.”

“Hey,” he began. “It wasn’t my inattention that caused this. You’re the one who didn’t check before coming out the door.”

She pushed to her feet and pointed to the flimsy. “I’m also the one who knows how to multi-task. Something you apparently don’t.”

“Oh, I can multi-task just fine,” he retorted. “Including looking out the corner of my eye to keep from crashing into people.”

Derlin had started chuckling as he bent down to pick something up. “I think you dropped this, Your Highness.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you.” It was when the item was handed over that Han realized what it was and frowned.

“What are you doing with a soul diamond?” Those were strictly a Corellian tradition.

“It’s for a memorial,” she said quietly. “We’d just been keeping it in the vault, but that seemed inappropriate, so I’ve been pushing to include it in the fallen heroes’ display.”

He looked closer. Despite the irreverent treatment she’d admitted that the diamond had received, it was in a beautiful inlaid mount. A tiny switch on the side suggested the presence of the traditional repulsor field, and the diamond itself had an unusual reddish-gold glow. “Whose was it?”

“One of the operatives from Operation Skyhook. She committed suicide to avoid capture.” Leia held up the display. “We were able to recover Commander Tharen’s body off Toprawa about eight months ago.”

The world seemed to tilt on its edges. “Commander Tharen?”

“Yes,” she said. “Commander Bria Tharen. She was a Corellian and one of our best leaders for a while.”

“Commander Bria Tharen.” Some part of him realized that the flimsy had dropped to the floor, but he was content to let it lie there. “She was a part of this cell.”

Leia nodded. “You knew her?”

The sound he made was meant to be a laugh, but it came out as a bitter scoffing noise. “Yeah. I knew her. She swindled me out of a huge share of spice and fine art at Ylesia.”

“Ylesia,” she repeated. “You were one of the smugglers there. But didn’t they all end up blaming her partner for that? Blaming him and ostracizing him to the point that he was forced to go back to working for…” Leia trailed off, as it hit her. “Back to working for the Hutts. Oh, stars.”

Walk away, Han told himself. Do it now. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the soul diamond. Its glow was almost exactly the color that Bria’s hair had been.

“Han,” said Leia gently. “Are you all right?”

Derlin was gone. He tried to wonder when that had happened but decided it didn’t matter.

“Han,” she said again. “She never told us who her partner was. Just that it was someone she’d met on Ylesia, years before.”

“Would it have mattered? Would anyone have even cared since you needed all the money for your precious Rebellion?”

“Of course it would have. That entire squad was censured for the last-minute betrayal.”

“Censured.” He didn’t even try to pretend the bitter sound was a laugh this time. “Her squad was censured. So what? There weren’t any actual consequences, not if she was commanding Operation Skyhook.”

“She volunteered for that.” Leia’s tone was maddeningly quiet. “Knowing it was probably a suicide mission.”

“And since she was so obviously trustworthy, you let her have it!” He needed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. If this cell had supported Bria, he wanted nothing to do with it. No matter who else might be there. No matter what else they might be doing, or how well they paid. “Get out of my way. I’m leaving.”

“Han —!”

“Now!”

She stepped aside, and that was when he realized Derlin had never gone anywhere after all. Although the man had stayed quiet, he’d witnessed the whole thing, which meant rumors would be flying within hours.

Let them, he decided. His vision was tinged with red. Let them find out exactly who it is they had in their command ranks. Someone who didn’t even think twice about using people to her own ends. He’d meant it when he said he was done with her, when he’d torn up the note he’d carried all those years, when he’d sworn he’d never forgive her. Bria meant nothing. Nothing.

Except that he wouldn’t have reacted this way if that were actually true.

“Aaaagh!” he shouted out to the walls, barely resisting the urge to stop and pound on them. That would only add to the time it took to get back to the Falcon and get out of here for good.

“Han! Wait! Where are you going like that?”

Part of him realized he’d been nearly running down the corridor. Well, no matter. It wasn’t like he’d ever see anyone here again anyway.

Especially not the Princess.

“Han!”

The change in voice made it past the roaring in his ears this time. It was female, yes, but pitched a good deal higher than Leia’s. He strode past anyway before belated recognition hit.

Calla Navan.

He would never quite be able to explain why he stopped and turned around. “What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“None of your business!”

“No,” she admitted, “it isn’t. Except that I don’t want to see you get hurt. Or hurt anyone else who gets in your way.” There was a kind of brutal honesty under the shock in her expression. “Whatever’s going on, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Anything stupid?” he repeated. “Did she put you up to this?”

“Who?”

His temper snapped. “Nobody. Anybody. Who in all the hells cares? This place is just full of people with all their precious agendas which are all they can see, so they think nothing of using people —” he broke off, realizing he was starting to babble. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”

When he pushed past her, she grabbed his wrist and twisted. “Ow! What the —”

“You are not,” she hissed at him, “going to do something stupid. Like fly the Falcon when even I can see how upset you are.”

The reversal happened so fast. One minute, he was trying to push her away, and the next, he was suddenly aware that she looked nothing like Bria. Or Leia. She was tall, could look him in the eye without even trying, and her body was comprised of lean muscle instead of soft curves. Her skin was a rich, dark brown and while she wore her hair in braids, they were an all-over style that bound them against her scalp instead of piling on top of her head. Best of all, she’d never pretended she was with the Rebellion because of some high-flying ideals. Calla had joined after her entire family was killed during a storm trooper “exercise.” She was here for revenge.

Unlike Leia or Bria, she’d never tried to demand he sacrifice in the name of the Rebellion. She’d just wanted something simpler. Something easier. Something normal.

They stood for another long moment, her hands locked around his wrists tightly enough to bruise, before stumbling toward the nearby door into a storage closet. Their lips crashed together, but it wasn’t sweet, wasn’t gentle. Neither bothered to disrobe; instead they simply shoved and pulled and twisted enough to reach their goal. She was making soft, feral noises and he knew he wasn’t being quiet, but fortunately either no one else overheard or no one else cared.

It didn’t take long, and when it was over, they collapsed against each other, panting.

“I’m sorry,” he said after catching his breath. “You were right. I was in no condition to fly.”

Calla smoothed hair away from his face. “It’s okay. I’m glad I ran into you.”

Oh, no. Was he going to get caught in an awkward situation with her again?

“Hey,” she continued. “Relax. I know what this was. It’s all right. I don’t mind being a convenient warm body sometimes.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

She sighed. “Yes, it was.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Don’t be.” She brushed her lips against his before stepping back far enough to put her clothing to rights. “I wouldn’t have done this if I hadn’t been willing. For all you know, I’ve had just as bad a day as you have.”

I doubt it, he thought, but didn’t get the chance to reply before she slipped out of the closet. Han closed his eyes and blew his breath out, admitting that he was relieved she hadn’t read too much into things this time. He wouldn’t have to hurt her feelings again, using harsh words and walking away feeling like a user.

Except that you did use her, even if she implied she was using you just as much.

He grimaced as he straightened his pants and shirt. What was the difference between the way he’d used Calla and the way Bria had used him? Both of them had been working toward their own goals and agendas. The fact that one was a little more galactic in scope didn’t change that fact.

You’re no different, Solo, he thought as he exited the closet and palmed the door behind him.

Yeah, but I’ve never pretended that I was in it for some higher purpose.

Still, there was a bitter taste in his mouth as he made his way back to the Falcon and started the pre-flight. “Come on, Chewie. We’re out of here. For good.”

Chapter Text

When had drinking stopped being a past-time and started being a habit?

Han took another swallow of the ale in front of him — he’d long since lost track of exactly what kind it was — and wondered why it mattered. Or why he cared.

At this time of the morning, the only patrons in the bar were the ones who were there for serious drinking. There wasn’t much conversation, or even much noise in general, aside from the low drone coming from the bartender’s view screen.

He liked it that way. Conversations inevitably led to discussions, and discussions required interaction with other beings.

After nineteen months spent with the Rebellion, he deserved some time alone.

Draining the glass, he slammed it down on the bar hard enough to get attention and a refill. The bartender gave him a look. “You’re knocking an awful lot of these back.”

“Don’t worry. I got the credits.” He’d been startled when he’d realized just how much he’d managed to accumulate in savings while with the Rebels. While he wasn’t to the point of never having to work again, he could afford to be choosy about his jobs, even after paying Jabba off.

He took another drink. He could also afford a vacation if he felt like it. And right now, he felt like it. The Hutt could wait another few days.

The bar door slammed open, echoing loudly through the silence. Han closed his eyes briefly. Maybe it was just someone else coming in for drinks.

No such luck. A sea of auburn fur swam into his field of vision, punctuated by bright eyes that settled on him for an uncomfortably long time. “What?”

Chewie barked sharply.

“I’ll sit in here and drink if I want to.”

That earned him a longer series of louder barks.

“You want to ship out, there’s plenty of folks advertising out at the docks.”

The Wookiee’s expression became a glare as he growled an answer.

“Then stay here, then, if you want to. Makes no difference to me.” Han reached for the glass, intent on another drink of ale, but Chewie reached over and shoved it down the bar. “Hey! Give that back.”

Chewie woofed a negative, continuing with a warning against him attempting to retrieve the drink. His temper flared. “Look, you big walking carpet, if you want a cub to take care of then go home to your family. I’m an adult and I’m going to finish my drink.”

Unfortunately, when he pushed to his feet, he overbalanced and had to grab for the bar. Chewbacca folded his arms and looked down at him, offering a comment about him being too drunk to stand.

“Well, what if I am? It’s not hurting anyone. Now help me up.”

Chewie didn’t move.

“Damn it, Chewie!” Somehow, though, he managed to navigate back onto the stool. The ale was still out of his reach, though. “Fine. We’ll go back to the Falcon. Nobody in here’s hiring anyway.”

“Gotta settle your tab,” said the bartender.

After some fumbling, he found a credit chit and programmed it with the right amount. “Must be glitching. Make sure you can read it.”

The bartender barely spared it a glance. “It’s fine. Your vision’s fuzzy.”

“Sure it is.” But if the bartender was willing to accept it, that was good enough. Chewie had to support him as they left, and some part of Han realized he probably didn’t dare go back there for a while. Then I’ll just find another place.

His feet found every irregularity and obstacle in the sidewalks. Even with assistance, it was a chore to keep walking. “C’mon, Chewie, give a guy a break. Let me rest for a second.”

His co-pilot ignored him.

“You’d think we were in some kind of a hurry or something.”

Chewie rumbled softly, but it sounded distracted. A moment later he stopped without warning, yanking Han around a nearby corner. “Now what?”

Even with his advanced state of inebriation, he understood the message when a large, hairy paw slapped over his mouth. Shrinking back, he nodded and grimaced with frustration. He’d thought they would be safe here on this no-name world.

It took a moment to realize that wasn’t the issue. Two sets of steps came within earshot, along with a pair of voices. “— and it’s confirmed, then? They’re on Merilus Prime?”

“That’s what the Governor’s assistant said. So we’re in for a reward, just as soon as they can get in there and wipe the base out.”

“How did you figure out where they were, anyway?” The footsteps were almost across from them now, causing Han and Chewie to press themselves further back into the shadows.

“I have someone on the inside.”

“Who would that be?”

“Are you kidding? Nobody but me needs to know that. At least right now. It’s a low-level technician, that’s all you need to know.”

Han wasn’t sure if he was sick from all the ale or from what he was hearing.

“Low level technician? That’s probably all you know, isn’t it? Code names and all that kind of stuff?” There was a scoffing noise. “You and your spy games. Mark my words, you’re going to end up regretting messing between the Imps and the Rebels…” the speaker’s voice became inaudible as they continued to walk away.

Was there any soberdin left on the Falcon? He’d been hitting his supply fairly hard lately.

Above him, Chewie awrooed quietly. His tone was full of concern.

“Yeah, I know. We’ve got to get a message to them somehow.” He started thinking about how he could piggyback the signal onto another message. The Falcon’s comm station was fully automated, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find a local public station with a manual tuner…

Chewie glanced down at him with a comment that made Han frown. “No. Absolutely not. I said we were leaving for good, and I meant it. I don’t want anything to do with them anymore.”

Yet he hadn’t hesitated to plan on contacting them when he’d gotten critical information. He didn’t need Chewie to point out the inconsistency. Or the fact that no comm signal could be as secure as a personal visit.

He stopped walking and shook his head before remembering not to, causing him to lose his balance again. The Wookiee caught him and made a chuffing noise.

“Nah, I’m fine. Or I will be, anyway. It’s just old thinking habits. But we’re not going anywhere except to send that message.”

This time, Chewie did point out that it would be better to go in person.

“I said we’re not doing that!”

But when he’d finished pawing through the Falcon’s medical supplies, taken the soberdin and headed up to the cockpit, Han discovered that his co-pilot was almost done with the pre-flight checklist. Glaring, he folded his arms. “Weren’t you listening to a word I said out there?”

Chewie nodded but didn’t bother to turn around or stop what he was doing. After a moment, Han realized it was difficult to maintain an effective glare when all a person could see was the back of his target’s head.

Rolling his eyes, he sat down in the pilot’s seat, unlocked the controls and started calculating the first hyperspace jump.

It wasn’t until he lowered the Falcon’s boarding ramp that he realized he’d been worried that it would be Leia who greeted him, particularly since he’d already said he had urgent information. That kind of comment would have gotten her attention, and she had tendency to show up fairly soon after he landed, especially when he’d been gone a while.

This had been his longest absence. Maybe it had been long enough to break that habit.

Han’s lips thinned. Was he worried that Leia would greet him or that she wouldn’t?

Regardless, he had to tamp down the churning in his stomach as the base’s hangar came into view, and he found himself fiddling with his gun belt for a long time before he looked up.

Leia was there, with Rieekan and Luke. All of them wore looks of concern on their face, and they began peppering him with questions as soon as the ramp made contact. It was as if he was returning from any one of his other supply runs or side trips, except that this time there was no load-out crew.

He took a sharp breath. If they could pretend that’s all that had happened, so could he.

Chapter Text

After the door shut behind him, Han allowed himself a single deep breath. He’d delivered his warning. The cell’s leadership had had several follow-up questions, but thankfully they were all related to what he’d seen and heard while absent.

Nobody had brought up the topic of the absence itself. He shook his head. Eight weeks had been a long time to knock aimlessly around the Outer Rim. No wonder Chewbacca had gotten frustrated.

The first thing they were going to do now, he decided, was find a way to get back to Tatooine without getting grabbed before they got there. And then they’d find a way to get to Jabba himself, as free beings, with the payback money and a healthy bit more. It probably wouldn’t be enough to overcome the black mark on his record, but it would at least get the bounty hunters off his back.

Without that problem following him around, he’d be able to find a new place and establish himself.

He’d been so busy planning he hadn’t realized he’d forgotten not to take the shortest route back toward the Falcon. It would have only taken another sixty seconds or so to take the path that didn’t go past the fallen heroes’ display. Unfortunately, now he didn’t have a choice.

Han stopped, hesitating. Would it really be that awful if he decided to backtrack and take the alternate route anyway?

“It’s not there.”

He hadn’t heard Leia’s footsteps behind him.

“We sent the soul diamond to her father,” she continued as she came into view. “Renn Tharen. It wasn’t until I saw his name that I realized he was the same person who’d sponsored you into the Academy.”

Just when he thought he’d managed a clean getaway. “That was a long time ago, Princess.”

“Yes. But apparently not long enough.”

Han shook his head. “I’ve got to be going.”

“All right. But I’m glad I caught you. I’ve been authorized to issue a formal apology from the Alliance, both for what happened on Ylesia and that we weren’t able to find you before.”

“A formal apology.” That was almost funny.

“Yes. We can’t fight for what’s decent and good if we don’t behave honorably while we do it.” She dug in her pocket and produced a credit chit. “This is yours.”

“What is it?”

“Your share of the funds from the Ylesian raid. We owe you a repayment for what Commander Tharen stole. With interest.”

He recoiled. “I don’t want that!”

She blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you just turn money down?”

“I don’t need that money.” It would only serve as a reminder.

“Be careful, Captain. You’re tarnishing your image.”

At that, he finally met her eyes, and while the skin around them was tight, there was a visible sparkle underneath. “It can’t get much more tarnished, Sweetheart. Not with what’s on the rumor mill.”

The skin around her eyes tightened even further. “Which would be nothing.”

“Come on, Your Worship, Derlin was right there —”

“And I gave him a direct order not to breathe a word. Specialist Navan hasn’t said anything either.”

“She doesn’t know about…” It was still too painful to say Bria’s name, though the buffer of eight weeks at least kept him from losing it again. “Why I left.” He felt warmth begin crawling up his neck. How had Leia even known about Calla? Had they been that loud?

“I wasn’t even sure she knew you were upset. When I saw her in the corridor, she said she’d run into you, but that you hadn’t done any more than exchange greetings in passing.”

“Oh.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Leia didn’t know, which, he decided was for the better. He made a mental note to thank Calla for the uncharacteristic discretion and then decided against it. He was leaving. For good. He wasn’t going to see her again.

“Where are you going now?” she asked.

“Tatooine,” he answered. “Squaring up with Jabba.”

She cocked her head. “You’ve been gone this long, and you hadn’t done that already? How did you stay off his scanners?”

The warmth was crawling up his neck again. “We weren’t working all that much,” he admitted.

She held up the chit. “And you don’t need this?”

“I don’t want it.” Not a single subcredit.

“You’ve been saving while you’ve been with us, then,” she observed, and pocketed it. “But would a little extra help?”

“I already told you —”

“Not the repayment. We’re going to need transport help for the evacuation, and Corianthus is between here and Tatooine.” Her eyebrows went up. “What do you say, Captain? Just once more?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to accept, but he bit down on the impulse before it came out of his mouth. He didn’t need to be sucked into the workings of this Alliance cell again. Not even once. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

She studied his face. “All right. But the least we can do is refuel and provision the Falcon. Surely that’s not too much to accept.”

“You people are persistent, aren’t you?”

“Of course we are. You’d be an asset if you stayed, and Operation Skyhook was almost two years ago. We’ve gotten quite a bit accomplished since then, and your part in that —”

He held up a hand. “Enough. I get the idea. The Alliance is feeling guilty. Well, debt cancelled. You don’t owe me any more than you’ve already paid.”

“And that’s why we want to keep you.” Now her voice was soft. “You’re not all about the money, no matter what you say.”

Talk about a tarnished image, he thought. He wasn’t supposed to be the kind of person people wanted to keep around. But it was likely already far too late to fix that.

Leia held out her hand. “Well, then, I guess this is goodbye, Captain. And good luck, especially with Jabba.”

“Thanks.” It felt oddly hollow when they dropped hands and she walked off, but he pushed that thought away, too. Nor did he look back at the fallen heroes’ display.

He could hear an argument as he came into the hangar, and it sounded as if Chewie’s voice was part of it. He broke into a trot for the rest of the way and discovered a team of techs trying, and failing, to face down this co-pilot.

“What is it?” he asked as he got there.

Chewie began to explain, but one of the techs cut him off. “The wiring on your enviro module. It’s copper.”

“So?”

“When we were doing the re-provisioning, Bladin noticed it’s tarnished. So we were going to replace it. Your co-pilot won’t give permission.”

He frowned. “You don’t have time for that.”

“Captain, all due respect, you don’t know how much longer the module’s going to last before something shorts. Do you really want to risk your environmental controls?” He gestured. “We already have the supplies, and the sooner you let us aboard, the sooner we’ll be finished.”

Maybe I like it that way, he thought but didn’t say. The tech was, unfortunately, right. You couldn’t risk the environmental systems if you liked to breathe. He jerked his thumb toward Chewbacca. “All right, but be quick about it. And he’s going to supervise while you do it.”

Chewie barked in surprise.

He shrugged. “They’re already set up. Go keep an eye on it.”

After the group disappeared up the ramp, he let himself take a look around the hangar. The evacuation must have been announced already, as it was busier than normal. All around him, crews were cleaning and repairing ships. One was already being loaded with supplies. Things were frantic, but there was still that same air of cheerful camaraderie he’d noticed the first time he saw the Alliance preparing for an evacuation, back at Yavin IV, a little less than two years ago.

Why had he stayed around that long, anyway?

“Hey! Solo! We could use a hand over here!”

He should have turned his back and gone up the ramp into the Falcon. But he was halfway across the hangar floor toward the crew who was trying to lift an engine cowling back into place before he realized it. Well, a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

But after that had turned into twenty, and he found himself back into the thick of things and laughing with the rest of them, he knew why he’d stayed so long. And why, he realized with an inward sigh, he was going to stay through at least this evacuation.

Chapter Text

As wilderness went, Corianthus’ was one of the prettiest Han had ever seen. It was primarily green, of course, but there were explosions of other colors everywhere. He hadn’t even known that flowers came in some of those shades, or that leaves could be just as colorful.

He stood at the edge of the landing and staging area, looking out across a broad field and enjoying the crisp air. This planet was temperate from pole to pole; only its extremely isolated location and lack of animal life had prevented its becoming a settlement target.

If ever there were a perfect location for a hidden base, this would be it.

He shifted restlessly. For some reason, it was taking much longer than usual to unload the supply ships. He glanced back toward the staging area to see Luke and Leia in the middle of a conversation, making their way slowly in his direction.

“…I’ve never seen so many growing things in the same place at the same time. Yavin was lush, but not like this. Why haven’t we been here before?” There was no gaping expression on Luke’s face, but his voice more than made up for it.

“It’s a bit too far out of the way, and any non-plant-based food has to be imported,” replied Leia. “But we’ll be here for a while, so you’ll get to take some time and enjoy the view. When do you have to go back out on patrol?”

“A few minutes. We’re having to double up on the shifts.” He kicked at a clump of grass and flowers. “It’s hard to tell the difference between what’s normal and what’s not in all this variety.”

She laughed lightly. “I thought you said you liked it.”

“I do like it. Doesn’t mean it won’t still cause us headaches.”

“Now you sound like Han.”

I guess that’s my cue. They had come up next to him anyway. “You ought to consider that a compliment, Kid.”

Leia folded her arms. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Why not, Your Worship? He’s right. It is pretty here, but it’s not going to be as easy as it looks at first glance.” He leaned back on his heels. “I don’t envy you people.”

“It could be worse. Our other alternative was Hoth.”

“So that’s why you picked Corianthus. There’s no way you would have ever conned me into one more job if you’d been headed for a frozen wasteland.”

“Right,” she said. “We chose Corianthus over Hoth precisely because we wanted to keep you, Captain Solo.”

“Well,” he drawled, “you have been trying to recruit me all this time.”

Her lips twitched. “We’re not that desperate, Hotshot.”

Luke had begun to chuckle.

“The view’s going to get old if they don’t finish the unloading soon, though.” He gestured. “What’s taking so long? I know they have to weight the shelters instead of anchoring them, but that can’t explain all of it.”

Leia sighed. “People are stopping and looking at the scenery.”

“Like us?”

“Yeah.” She started chuckling, too. “Like us. It is unusually beautiful here, especially given the lack of trees. It almost reminds me of Alderaan. This kind of field would be perfect for a grass painting.”

Han noticed that he wasn’t the only one who’d gone absolutely still for a long moment. Leia never talked about Alderaan. She’d long ago declared the topic off-limits, and both he and Luke had learned to respect that.

He wasn’t sure how to react now, or even whether he should.

Luke broke the silence first. “Um. Speaking of all the work we need to do, I really ought to get back to the squadron. We’re still finishing up the patrol schedule, and…” he trailed off, swallowing. “Yeah. It is taking a while. I should go do something about that.”

Leia considered him with a raised eyebrow, but nodded. Han wondered if the kid could have moved any faster if there’d been a gundark directly on his tail. He suppressed a shake of his head. Commander of a crack fighter squadron, and still runs like a teenager when something makes him uncomfortable.

He glanced down at the princess to find her looking up at him. “I don’t suppose you have somewhere to be too.”

It came out before he could think about it. “Well, I would, if your people had any sense of speed today.”

“My people.”

“They definitely aren’t mine.”

“Maybe they’re not anyone’s.” Her eyes seemed to become more liquid as she looked back out at the field. “My people are gone.”

“Hey,” he said. “That’s twice in one conversation you’ve brought up Alderaan. What brought this on?”

She shook her head.

Three months ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to reach out to her, but now he found himself pausing more than once before his hand made it to her shoulder. It occurred to him that they hadn’t touched each other since he’d been back. Before he’d left, their touches might have been incidental, but they’d been happening more and more often.

Leia took a harsh breath. “It’s all right. I was just so sharply reminded for a moment there. I didn’t expect it, and…”

“It came at you harder than you thought it would.”

The next breath was easier. “Yes. But I’ll be fine.” She flicked her eyes up at him. “Thank you.”

He dropped his arm. “No problem, Your Worshipfulness.”

She actually managed a small laugh at the sarcastic title. “That almost felt normal.”

With a shrug, he looked away. She wasn’t wrong, but it he couldn’t ignore the last several weeks. They had happened, and as a result he had come to the realization that he’d stuck around with the Alliance way too long. In fact, he was arguably a danger to them given the size of the bounty that was currently on his head.

“Anyway,” began Leia after a moment, and her tone had become brisk again. “I think I’ll go see if I can’t get the crew to move a little faster. We have been waiting longer than usual, and you have to be going.”

He shrugged again. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”

She met his eyes. “What are you going to do after you’re finished with Jabba?”

“I’m not sure yet. I won’t be able to work for him again, I know that, but it’s a big galaxy. We’ll find jobs somewhere.”

“You could always come back.”

“What is this, Sweetheart? Are you actually asking me to stay?”

“Would that be so terrible?” Now she reached out to him, touching his hand gently. “You’re an asset to our group, and everyone I talk to likes you. It wasn’t easy to pretend I didn’t know why you were gone, but…” she trailed off. “I’ve found that the work’s hard enough, and the companionship good enough, that it helps the bad memories fade with time.”

His lips quirked. That had been true enough. He hadn’t thought about Bria for months, possibly even a year or more, before the reminder had been shoved into his face without any warning. The bad memories had faded, mostly because he had been too busy working with this cell. There hadn’t been any time to dwell on them.

On the other hand, there would be plenty of time to brood during the forced inactivity that came with looking for new work.

Which is, he told himself later, why he replied the way he did. “No, I guess it wouldn’t. You’ve got yourself a deal, Princess.”

Chapter Text

The sound of the paint sprayer was so loud that he couldn’t hear anything else at first. It was only when he felt vibration at the bottom of the ladder that Han looked down to see Leia standing there, her hand still against the upright where she had tapped.

Shutting the sprayer off, he pulled his mask up. “Something going on, Your Worship?”

“Just wondering what you’re doing.”

He gestured. “Exactly what it looks like. We had to replace some of the hull plating after that last little experience along the spinward corridor.”

“But why are you painting it?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not quite a match to the rest of the hull.”

“I’m surprised anyone would even notice.”

Any other time, he might have fired back at a shot like that, but he’d been working above his head all afternoon and his shoulders were sore. “Did you actually come out here for a reason, Princess? Or are you just bored and looking for someone to harass?”

The quick shift of her eyes to the left gave away the answer, but she didn’t admit it. “I was, ah, wondering if you were still planning to leave as soon as you could. Nobody expected you to help Councilor Eliov’s transport run that blockade. It was strictly an Alliance mission.”

He shrugged. “I was already in the neighborhood, and you guys needed the distraction. You have to admit it worked.” He’d managed to surprise and draw off the two Imperial ships that had been hiding and waiting in reserve.

“Yes, and we’re grateful.” She traced her finger up and down the ladder upright. “Do you need any help with that?”

He could have used help earlier, but at this point it was all done except for the painting and cleanup. “I’m fine. But if you need something to do, some of the storage bins in life support came open in the firefight and the supplies got scrambled around.”

“And you need someone to straighten that back out.”

“It’ll be a tedious job,” he said. “So if you’re not interested…”

“No, that’s fine. Forward and to starboard, right? On the other side of the loading bay.”

“Yeah.” He leaned over and swapped the sprayer for a brush, intending to start the last of the edge work. “Look, I wasn’t kidding about tedious. It’s scut work, and you really don’t have to. I can take care of it.”

She sighed. “You were right.”

He blinked. “Are you feeling okay?”

Now she was the one who shrugged. “We’ve gone to station keeping except that Councilor Eliov’s in private holo-conference with Mon Mothma. There’s not a whole lot else to do. Even the comm staff are down at skeleton level tonight.”

“There’s a high-level councilors’ meeting and you weren’t invited?”

Her lips thinned. “It’s on a need-to-know basis. And I’m not an active part of the shadow Senate right now.”

Leia’s tone might have been neutral, but Han could clearly hear the frustration underneath. “So there’s nothing really needing doing, but you don’t want to sit around and think too much. That’s why you’re here.”

Now a frown touched the edges of her eyes. “That makes me sound a lot more desperate than I really am.”

You are, he thought, and that’s why you don’t want to think about anything right now. He was able to keep it from showing on his face, though. “No, it just makes sense. Go on in and get started. I’m almost done here, and I’ll come up and find you when I am.”

The edge work went faster than he expected, and it was no more than ten or fifteen minutes later when he leaned through the door between the loading bay and life support. “Wow, Your Busyness. That’s even worse than it looked before.”

“I figured I might as well pull everything out and completely repack it,” she explained. “Then maybe the bins won’t burst quite as easily during maneuvers.”

“Relax. I’m not complaining. I’d join you, but I also need to rewire that console over there.”

She glanced behind her at the cluttered floor. “Is that such a good idea with me having everything out like this?”

He grabbed a high-sided tray from where she’d stacked it in a corner. “It’ll be fine. I’ll need to corral everything I use anyway, so just keep this clear.”

“Okay.” She turned back to her work, opening up one of the bins that had stayed sealed and distributing its contents among the piles. He watched her for a long moment before starting his own task, wondering what else to say, but she seemed content enough to work in silence. That was useful; the fault in the wiring proved to be far more elusive than he’d first thought and it took more concentration than usual to trace it back to the source.

He eventually found it, though, and sat back on his heels for a moment to catch his breath and shake the hair out of his eyes before pulling out the connections that needed replacement. The stiffness in his shoulders had also come back, which wasn’t helping, but then he felt a hand on one of them. “Here.”

“What?”

Leia handed him a cool, damp cloth. “Wipe your face.”

He’d known he was sweating, but it hadn’t seemed that bad until he actually had a chance to address it. The cloth felt amazing. Opening his eyes, he turned around to look at her and noticed that all of the bins had been neatly re-packed and closed up. “You work fast.”

“Not really. It’s been an hour and a half.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you always lose track of time when you’re putting this thing back together?”

“No,” he replied. “But it’s usually because someone’s sharp tongue interrupts me.”

“You looked like you needed to concentrate. Besides, I was busy. There were a lot of supplies out of place. I’m not sure anyone had ever gone through that stuff to organize it.”

“Probably not.” He handed the cloth back to her and pushed back up to his knees. “Thanks.”

“You’re not done?”

“No, I just found the problem. Now I’ve got to tear the connection out and replace it.”

She stood up. “What do you need and where is it?”

He looked at her for a moment, curious. “It’ll be somewhere in those bins, actually. Do you know what a step-down connector looks like? I need one to go from a number twelve to a number eight. And a three-way connector for the number eights, too. With about three meters of the number eight wire itself.”

Leia turned, opened one of the bins, and rummaged around before holding up two items. “These?”

“The one on the left, yes.”

She dropped the step-down connector in his tray before going back to the bins, this time yanking something before she began pulling out the wire. From the way she was moving, she’d apparently set up the spools in a way that would allow for neat unreeling. That suspicion was confirmed when she asked for his wire cutters and made a single, clean snip before producing both the three-way connector and the wiring.

He had to admit he was impressed. How many princesses knew how to identify electrical components?

Since he’d already cut out the shorted connection, it was quick work to install the new one, but he was still startled to look up and see her sitting on one of the bins when he was done. “What’s this, Your Highnessness? Like watching me work?”

She dropped her eyes. “I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“Nah,” he said. “It’s nice to have someone else here.” The words were out before he realized he’d actually meant them, so he changed the subject as quickly as he could. “How did you learn about ship’s electrical components?”

“Pilot training. They went over simple repairs, the kind you’d do to get yourself back to the base. How do you think I learned how to read the Falcon’s cockpit consoles? Of course,” she continued, “I’m mostly checked out on suborbitals and short-ranges, and even then, it’s when they’re in decent repair instead of being held together with number eight wire and stubbornness.”

“Hey,” he began, but she waved her hand.

“Not right now. I really need to get going.” She dropped the hand. “Thanks for letting me stay a while, though.”

“I should be thanking you for doing those bins.”

“It was good to finally do something constructive.” She stood up and stretched. “Have a good evening, Han.”

“Hey,” he called as she made her way to the doorway. His tone was entirely different this time. “You too, Leia. Come by anytime if you need something to do.”

It was only when she smiled faintly that he realized he’d meant that, too.

Chapter Text

“Here, Your Worship. Have another drink.”

Leia wrinkled her nose at the cup, but he could see a smile in her eyes. “Is it safe?”

“As safe as anything else around here,” Han replied, showing her that his own cup held the same substance. “But you’ll want to watch out for the —” he broke off as she began to cough and splutter. “Grain alcohol,” he finished.

Despite her initial reaction, she recovered fairly well. “I see. Trying to corrupt the masses, are you?”

He grinned. “Hey, this isn’t my fault. Your guys are doing that just fine on their own.”

She chuckled and took another sip, handling the liquor’s raw taste fine this time. The noise and light from the party swelled up into the night, although here at the edge, it began to be swallowed by Corianthus’ wilderness.

“Actually,” he continued, “this isn’t half bad for what it is. And I’m surprised Command doesn’t know there’s a still on the base.”

“We do know,” she answered. “It’s in the hangar’s air-conditioning machinery. Every now and then we’ll have a technician take a look to make sure there aren’t any leaks, and the brew masters aren’t poisoning folks by accident.”

“As opposed to on purpose?” The punch was pretty strong, after all. He’d felt the effects halfway through his first drink — which he’d chased with a full cup of water — and now, with his second, was taking care to drink slowly.

“Come on, Flyboy. You know what I mean.” She took another sip. “It’d be impossible to keep someone from trying to build a still. So the leadership pretends not to know about it, and that way can keep an eye on things to make sure they don’t get out of control. Besides,” she continued. “One or two of them might have even helped design it, for all I know. It’s not really a topic of open discussion.”

“I can imagine. Speaking of, you do know to take it easy with that stuff, right?”

“You’re the one who brought me the drink,” she retorted. “Don’t worry. It’s my first. And only for the night.”

He frowned. “Didn’t I see you with a cup earlier?”

“Of tea. I also had a fairly substantial dinner, since I knew this was coming.”

“You did?”

“Of course. There’s no way the Rogues wouldn’t have thrown a blow-out for Luke’s Life Day.” The smile was back in her eyes now. “No matter what he thought about the idea.”

He pointed with his cup. “He seems just fine with it, actually.”

“That’s at least his second or third of these drinks. He’d be fine with just about anything right now.”

“And some folks will take any excuse to party.” Han allowed himself another swallow. “You know, Your Royalness, we’ve never heard anything about your Life Day. Why haven’t we had a party to celebrate that yet?”

Leia lowered her cup and looked over his shoulder. “You’re right. This stuff is kind of raw and gets to you pretty quickly. Not to mention this party is only going to get more rowdy. I should find my quarters.”

Confused, he watched her as she threaded through the edges of the crowd toward the exit closest to the senior officers’ quarters. She smiled as she stopped briefly to speak to a few people, but her back was stiff and her eyes tight. Her cup disappeared into the first available refuse bin.

But before she’d managed that, he was finding his own way through the various knots of celebrants. His cup was the next into the bin after hers, and he caught up without any difficulty, but he waited until they were out of immediate hearing distance before speaking up. “Hey, Your Worshipfulness. What was that all about?”

She hurried ahead of him.

He lengthened his stride. “Don’t do that, Princess. I know you can hear me.”

With a sigh, she stopped and let him finish catching up, but she still didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s a complicated topic.”

“Your Life Day? That’s a controversial subject? Do Alderaanians not celebrate them or something?”

“We do.” She took a long breath. “Except that I don’t know when mine is.”

“How can you not — oh,” he stopped himself. “That’s right. Your official bio says you’re a war orphan. But I’d figured that someone in your position could dig pretty deeply into the records?”

“Yes, but even we can’t find records that don’t exist.” Her voice was quiet. “We always…” she trailed off. “The official celebration was always a commemoration of my Name Day, but I knew the difference. As an adult, I couldn’t bring myself to put an end to the public ceremonies, but…” she shrugged. “It was for the people’s sake. Not mine.”

He considered her. “So you don’t even really know how old you are.”

“No. Although my official age is pretty close to the real one. I was somewhere between three and six months old when my father found me. But then we had to wait for the adoption to be finalized and me to be formally introduced to the public. It took a while. Most of the time, a child is only a few weeks old for their Name Day. But I started walking the day after mine.”

“So you might be as much as a year older than your records show.”

“I don’t think it’s that much,” she answered. “I always seemed to reach development points earlier than most. But I’ll never know for certain.”

“Still,” he commented, “I would have thought you had gotten used to it by now.”

“I would too.” Her voice became softer. “But somehow, seeing tonight’s celebrations for Luke and then your question…it’s touched a nerve. I’m sorry. I should’ve done a better job of excusing myself.”

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I understand.”

“Do you really? Most people don’t, since they know when they were born.”

Now he was the one who avoided eye contact. “Well, I’m not most people.”

“Really? How did you get into the Academy, without a birth certificate?”

“Papers can be faked pretty well, if you know who to ask and how much to pay.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on her face. “I’d always thought it interesting that your Life Day is on New Year’s Day.”

“Hey, if people are partying anyway, why not give them a real reason? I’m like you,” he continued. “That date’s pretty close. I was probably born that year. So it’s good enough.”

“You’ve never thought about going back to see if you could find any family?”

He took a long breath, thinking of Thrackan, but decided that wasn’t worth bringing up. “Never had the interest.”

“So you’re used to not knowing where you come from, then.”

“I’m usually more interested in where I’m going.”

“Yes,” she said. “I suppose you are. It’s not a bad attitude for handling it. In fact I think I envy you.”

“You envy me?” That was certainly a bold admission, at least for her. Maybe the alcohol was affecting her more than she realized.

Of course, he’d ordinarily never have admitted to having faked papers in the presence of a government official. Maybe the alcohol was affecting him more than he realized.

“Being able to not care. I think on some level, it’s always gotten to me. And now, when there’s nothing left to celebrate…” she trailed off. “It is a raw nerve. And I’m getting maudlin. I should get some rest. Aren’t you going to enjoy the rest of the party? Luke will miss you.”

He blew his breath out, realizing he wasn’t really in the mood. “Nah, I think I’ve had enough. Will you be all right? Need any company?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “But thank you. And…thank you. It’s good to know I’m not alone.”

“Anytime,” he said, wondering at the vaguely raw feeling in his own nerves. Because he, of all people, did understand.

Chapter Text

There was a loud pop as the empty container in the distance exploded, and Han jumped before he could stop himself. That shouldn’t have happened. “Good stars, Your Worship. Is your blaster live?”

She flipped her protective glasses up. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Lack of death wish! We’re not in the middle of a firefight, not to mention there are safety protocols for a practice range. Or don’t your people believe in those?”

Leia’s lips quirked. “We do, but there’s nobody behind the targets. They know better than to take that kind of a risk.”

“Stray blaster bolts can go pretty far, Sweetheart.”

She flipped the glasses back down. “What’s the matter, Captain? Are you afraid you’ll go outside the target zone?”

He straightened. “I don’t miss.”

“Well, neither do I. And I’ve always believed in practicing the same way I intend to fight.”

“Which is a good idea,” he allowed. “But there’s a difference between that and foolish risks. This is the place to make sure we’ve got a move down before we use it for real.”

“So you do think you might shoot wide.”

The truth was he’d set the DL-44 to practice/warning mode without even thinking about it. In this configuration, it still had enough of a kick to make for good practice, but if a shot went wide it would result in nothing more than a show of light.

And, no doubt, a fair amount of taunting. Han folded his arms to cover his irritation. “Nobody ever thinks they’ll shoot wide. But it takes a pretty big ego to shoot live during target practice.”

“You would know more about big egos than I would.”

“There’s ego and there’s foolishness,” he countered. “And I’m not the one who’s wasting tibanna gas, either. Unless there are extra supplies I don’t know about?”

She took another series of shots, resulting in a fairly respectable grouping of hits, but then scowled when she realized his disapproving expression hadn’t changed. “All right. Fine.” Her blaster clicked loudly as she switched modes.

Lining himself up, he squeezed off his series and tossed her a glance of triumph. “Every single one inside the moof’s-eye. You were saying about training the way you mean to fight?”

The scowl darkened into a flat-out glare, but she set up her next series. Unfortunately, her blaster apparently had a lot less kick in practice mode, and she overcompensated. Two shots went completely over the target. Leia mouthed a curse.

“Such language, Your Serenity! And it looks like I wasn’t the one who needed to worry after all.”

“Oh, don’t rub it in.” She holstered her blaster. “My hands are getting tired.”

“Isn’t that convenient.” But he holstered his own after finishing the next round. “It is getting a little warm out here, though. I’m heading back to the Falcon to cool off. Want to come with?”

She wiped her brow. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind something to drink. If you have anything non-alcoholic on board.”

“I could always give you plain old water.” The offer had been as automatic as switching blaster modes for target practice. He hadn’t actually expected her to accept. “I wasn’t really planning for visitors this afternoon, so it’s that, or tea, or ale.”

Leia nodded. “Water or tea will be fine.” He thought she might make another crack about his ship’s usual condition, but except for nodding at various acquaintances they passed, she was silent as they made their way from the practice range to the hangar. She maintained the silence as she settled into the booth with a practiced move, while he headed toward the galley without any further conscious thought.

He blinked as he realized the implications behind their automatic actions. Comfortable silence was starting to become as much of a habit as keeping her favorite teas around.

Before the incident with the soul diamond, he’d often thought she was seeking him out to flirt with him. This, though, was different; while she actually sought him out more often, her demeanor often suggested she was acting out of a desire for companionship, or even maybe simple friendship. There’d been no hint of anything more.

Han wondered if he should take it a criticism that she didn’t flirt anymore. Then again, it didn’t feel like anything was still wrong between them.

“Hey,” she said as he set two tumblers of chilled tea and a plate of crackers onto the dejarik table. “Credit for your thoughts.”

“Nothing, really. Still wondering what possessed you to shoot live out there.”

“I told you. I wanted to practice the same way I’d fight.”

“We haven’t exactly done fighting lately. It’s like the Empire’s almost going out of its way to lie low for a while.”

She sighed. “You know it won’t last.”

“Probably not. But we can enjoy it while we have it.” He glanced down at her blaster. “You know, there are ways we can weight the chamber when it’s in practice mode, if the kick’s what you’re after.”

“We can?”

“Yeah. Let me take a look at it.” She pulled it out and laid it on the table. “An ELG-3A? The Diplomat’s Blaster? I thought we were talking about firefights.”

“I’m pretty solid on the DL-18,” she replied. “But I need to get used to this one too, since I’ll more likely be using it for…” she trailed off and shook her head. “I just need to practice with it.”

He wondered what she had been about to say, but couldn’t justify asking. “Okay, well, the chamber’s smaller than usual, but it can still be modified.”

“Will that affect its live performance?”

“It shouldn’t. And I should have what we need around here somewhere.” Pushing to his feet, he led her back toward the engineering station, explaining the process as they went. She listened attentively, asking pertinent questions, and insisted on making the modifications herself under his direction instead of letting him do it.

“It’ll help me learn the weapon better,” she explained, and Han nodded. It made sense, even though it meant the operation took longer. When they finished, he glanced at a chrono and was surprised to see how much time had passed.

Leia followed his gaze. “What?”

“It’s been two hours, longer if you count the practice session, and neither one of us has stomped off yet.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” he drawled, “but it may be a record.”

“We’ve been busy. But I can make a few astute observations, if you’re missing a reason to pull out that temper of yours.”

He found himself chuckling softly. “Nah, it’s all right. This is…” he trailed off. “Kind of nice, actually. You know, Princess, it sometimes seems almost automatic to bicker with you. But we can get along pretty well when we want to, can’t we?”

“Yes,” she said, and her voice had become soft. The quirk of her lips this time was the precursor to an honest smile. “We can. And you’re right. It is kind of nice not to argue.”

Han decided to return the smile. Was this friendship, then? In a way it was almost better than flirtation. He felt comfortable around her.

Well, most of the time, he thought as the moment stretched out just a little longer than he meant it to. He dropped his eyes. “Um. Did you want to go back out to the range to see how the thing handles now?”

“Yes. But there were some other people scheduled behind us. I don’t think it’s available.”

“All right,” he replied, wondering why he felt the need to be cautious.

She took a breath that seemed a little longer and louder than normal, and he realized she’d been avoiding eye contact as well. “I should go. There are some reports I promised to have ready before the morning meeting.”

He nodded. “Well, good night, then. We’ll try out the blaster another time.”

Now she flicked her eyes up. “I’d like that. Have a good evening. And I won’t tell anyone that you can function like a normal human being if you won’t.”

“What, you want to keep the nice talk just between us?”

At that, she laughed, and he felt himself relaxing. By the time she finished her way down the exit ramp, her smile was back, and the eye contact was perfectly natural. Han turned away, shaking his head and chuckling. He was looking forward to their next target practice.

Chapter Text

Han looked down from the tactical diagram he was putting up on the touch board, flipping through his notes and absently noting that Leia had come into the room while his back had been turned. She probably just wanted to needle him about actually teaching a class, even though this one-time presentation was barely a step above a post-mission briefing. After explaining the line of thinking that he’d used during their latest altercation with an Imperial squad — the first they’d seen in weeks — Command had asked him to describe his tactics to all of the squadron leaders.

Making a few more notes on the board, he considered it for a moment before deciding it was good enough. But when he glanced down at his notes one more time to make sure he hadn’t left anything out, the look on Leia’s face caught his eye.

“What?” he asked, wondering what could make her cock her head and purse her lips like that.

“Your eyes.”

“What?” That was unexpected.

She waved a hand. “For a moment there, your eyes looked almost gold. I hadn’t seen that before.”

He shrugged. “Happens sometimes. Probably the touch board’s back light.”

“The tactical boards in the Command Center make them look green sometimes. They’re the same color as the touch board.”

“Maybe something about the overheads, then. Doesn’t make any difference how they work.”

“Of course not,” she agreed. “But it was startling. Of course, I’ve never been able to figure out exactly what color your eyes are anyway.”

This was getting a little weird. “Pilot’s license says they’re hazel.”

“Except they look blue in bright sunlight. I’ve never seen hazel eyes that did that before.”

“Maybe I’m just special. What difference does it make, anyway?”

“None,” she replied. “It’s just interesting, especially for an Alderaanian. Most of us have black or brown eyes. Other colors have always gotten my attention.”

He crossed over to the table where she was sitting and sat down on its edge. “Well, well, well, Your Nosiness. I never would’ve guessed you’d spend so much time thinking about my eyes. Anything else catch your attention?”

Her lips flattened in exasperation, but he was thrilled to see a light flush appear on her cheeks. “I notice that kind of thing about most humans. It’s just a tangent.”

“And here I was thinking I really might be special.”

“Special at turning nearly everything into a comment about your ego, maybe. As if being asked to do a tactical briefing didn’t boost it up pretty high anyway.”

“Hey,” he said. “Not my fault if your guys haven’t figured out how to think sideways. Or up, as it were.” During the skirmish he’d made an unexpected move straight up toward the TIE fighters’ carrier ship, firing at an exposed point in their shields and destroying the docking tubes. Deprived of a place to recharge and re-supply, they had been forced to fight with rapidly dwindling fuel and ammunition. Part of their win had been due to simple attrition.

Leia cocked her head again. “Not all of them had a chance to study tactics at the Academy.”

Han sighed inwardly. Somehow he’d known this would come up. “I didn’t learn that move there.”

“Where did you learn it, then?”

“Flash of inspiration.” Or desperation. “I saw a chance to even the odds and took it.”

“Because you can look at the big picture even in the middle of a dogfight,” she countered. “That’s what I wish our commanders could do better. And you were taught to do it somewhere.”

He dropped his eyes. That had been something he’d picked up at the Academy. He’d long ago admitted that the training there had proved useful to him even after being cashiered out of the service. But that didn’t mean he had to advertise it, did he?

Leia watched him for another moment. “I’m sorry. You don’t like being reminded of that, do you?”

“It was a long time ago.” He closed the data pad down with a stab that had more than the necessary force. “It’s not worth the effort to think about it. Besides, I’m not the only Academy grad around here.” Several of the officers had not only graduated, but served with distinction before leaving the service under more pleasant circumstances than he had.

“Still, that kind of thinking is one of the reasons we offered you a commission as a Commander.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of the Ancients. Not another recruitment speech.”

She raised her hands in protest. “It’s an observation. Nothing more. Are you always this prickly before giving a briefing?”

“Prickly?” He hadn’t had much of an appetite at dinner, but that could easily have been post-battle nerves. “First you make personal comments about my eyes, and then you accuse me of being prickly because I don’t want to dwell on the past? I’m not sure I’m the one with the problem here, Sweetheart.”

Her color heightened again. “The two don’t have anything to do with each other. Your eyes are a little unusual. But it’s pretty common to be nervous before speaking in front of people, especially when you don’t do it that often.”

“It’s just the Rogues. I know ’em all, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Sometimes it’s harder to talk in front of people you know than those you don’t. Especially if it’s a role they’re not used to seeing.”

He was still perched on the edge of the table, but now Han folded his arms. “Why are you here, Your Worship? It almost sounds like you’re trying to check up on me.”

Her eyes narrowed, and he abruptly realized that they sometimes changed color, too. The differences were various shades of brown, more subtle than he was used to seeing in the mirror, but if you paid attention they were definitely visible. Right now, they were darker than usual.

“Would it be so terrible if I were?” she asked after a pause. “I noticed you picking at your food over dinner. Given that you were out there for twelve hours, I’d have imagined everyone came back pretty hungry.”

“I have stuff on the Falcon.” It wasn’t a lie.

Now her eyes lightened, though he wondered if he would have been able to tell if they hadn’t been so close. “If you say so.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do. I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do —”

“Actually, I’m staying for the briefing. I had just wanted to get here a bit early to make sure you weren’t in a state of panic beforehand.”

“Panic? Oh, come on! When have you ever seen me do that?”

“Do you want the list alphabetically or chronologically?”

“That’s not nice.” But he could feel a tightness relaxing across the back of his neck, one he hadn’t even realized had been there. “And what do you care about dogfighting techniques anyway? I mean, I know you can pilot, but that doesn’t mean you’re about to climb into an X-Wing.”

It was her turn to shrug. “Can’t hurt to learn something new. And you never know when it might help you be better prepared for something.”

“Such as?”

She didn’t quite meet his gaze. “It’s always helpful to have a skill no one expects you to have.”

“Oh,” he replied. “You’re bored again.”

“Not exactly.” But she didn’t explain herself, and any questions he might have asked were forestalled by the noisy entry of a couple pilots. Excusing himself, Han crossed back to the front of the room, but as he did so he noticed that his stomach had calmed down.

Maybe he really did need the distraction. With a mental shrug, he put the conversation out of his mind and started the briefing. It was only later, well after it had ended, that he realized he’d never had a chance to find out why she’d decided to attend.

Chapter Text

He’d never have thought there would be a drawback to a pole-to-pole temperate climate, but it turned out there was one: the weather. Corianthus’ spin meant that its weather systems moved, but the lack of temperature differential and the relatively flat geography meant they moved slowly and tended not to be energetic.

By the twelfth straight day of what was either a heavy mist or a light rain, even Chewie looked miserable: the high humidity had crept into his fur, and it lay flat and heavy. He’d made a point of saying he needed to catch up on his sleep, but Han had been back into the engineering bay a couple of times and found his co-pilot simply staring at the ceiling as he lay in the hammock.

Even the routine patrols had been exactly that; the one encounter with an Imperial squadron had proved to be an isolated event. There was little else to do, and a general air of lethargy had settled over the base.

Han blew his breath out and admitted it: he was bored, and he wasn’t used to it.

He’d opened the Falcon’s boarding ramp as a kind of porch, and dragged a box out to serve as a chair. When he added in a bottle of ale and the technical documentation for the recently-upgraded inertial dampeners, he was almost able to ignore the feeling of being out of place, especially given the occasional people-watching opportunities that came along.

Such as now, when he heard squishing footsteps off to his left before two figures appeared. “I didn’t know you read for pleasure.”

Pausing the manual, he looked up at Rieekan and Leia. “It’s been known to happen.”

“I’d have thought you would be working on the ship,” she continued.

“Not much left to finish.”

“Well,” said Rieekan, “you’ve heard the old saying about fighting a war. Long stretches of boredom in between days of pure terror.”

Although the cliché wasn’t particularly amusing right now, Han obligingly chuckled. “Kind of like sitting in hyperspace lanes between two busy worlds.”

“Or working as a bodyguard,” said Rieekan. “We’re not here by accident.”

Han shut the pad down. “Somehow I’m not surprised. What’s going on?”

“It’s been awfully quiet,” said Leia. “Too quiet, really. Aside from that one sortie, there’s been almost no Imperial activity. We’re trying to figure out exactly why, and I’ve found a couple of leads. But checking them out is going to require a bit of…discretion.”

He twisted his lips. “You mean skulking around. Princess, General, the Falcon’s not exactly a stealth ship.”

“Her Highness has been telling me about some of your upgrades, including that non-standard sensor suite.” At that, Han shot Leia a sharp-eyed glance. She had the good grace to look guilty.

The general missed the interplay. “You’ll be able to collect data from further out than some of our other ships. That’s a valuable safety feature.”

“Yeah,” answered Han, not caring if his tone had gotten a little short. “For passive usage, such as making sure I’m not about to get jumped by some bounty hunter. Going snooping and slicing doesn’t exactly fall into that category.”

Rieekan frowned. “Nobody said anything about snooping or slicing.”

“Well, what else could ‘checking things out’ mean?”

“Actually,” said Leia, “it’s something that’s your specialty. We’re looking for someone to, ah, clandestinely transport people to various planets and stations.”

“Oh,” he said. “Inserting and retrieving spies.”

Rieekan’s eyes flashed briefly, but there was no change to his tone. Han envied the older man’s control. “Yes, I suppose you could characterize it that way. We’re seeing it more as a type of logistical support.”

“Logistical support.” He rubbed a hand across the bridge of his nose. “That means running supplies and passengers. But you said something about a bodyguard.”

“For this type of passenger, we could certainly use someone who’s handy with a blaster. Especially if the passenger needs an expedient departure.”

“Now, look,” began Han. “There’s a big difference between dodging Imperial ships that I might happen to run into, and going in and extracting spies. I’m willing to do one. But I’m not suicidal enough to do the other.”

“You won’t be doing the extractions,” said Leia.

“Well, who will?”

She took a breath. “Mostly, me.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You? Since when have you been part of the intelligence corps?”

“The whole thing’s unofficial!” she shot back. “I’m not intelligence. But what do you think I was doing when you met me?”

“Waiting to be terminated after getting caught spying!” He glared directly into her eyes, but she didn’t flinch.

“Which means the Princess already knows which mistakes can be the most dangerous,” observed Rieekan. His tone was still mild, but there was a hint of steel underneath. “Captain Solo, if you’re not willing to do this, we’d be happy to look for another, um, freelance pilot. Her Highness simply felt like, since you’ve been present during her training and the two of you already have a working relationship —”

He didn’t take his eyes off Leia. “Training? Is that what you’re calling the blaster practice and tactical briefings?”

She drew herself up. “Among other things.”

“I don’t believe this.” Giving up the staring contest, he turned away toward the chair. “You really are suicidal.”

Her stance remained as stiff as ever, but he thought he could see a hint of fatigue cross her expression. “No. I’m not. I promise. It’s more like being out of ideas.”

“You mean desperate?”

Now she let her shoulders slump.

“Look,” he began. “It makes sense to me. You’re trying to find out if the Empire’s gone quiet because they’re planning another huge offensive, something we need to stop before it starts. But you don’t want to be too obvious about it, so it’s not a regular scouting mission. I just don’t understand why you need to be the one out in the field. That’s why we have intelligence operatives.”

“I’d never ask our people to do something I wouldn’t do myself. It’s basic leadership.”

“It’s also basic leadership to step aside and let the specialists take care of the specialty work!”

“Captain.”

He’d actually forgotten that Rieekan was still there. Clenching a fist to keep his temper under control, Han dragged his attention away from the confrontation. “General.”

“Princess Leia has already been designated the leader for this initiative. That is not up for debate. The only item that is, is whether you’ll be assisting her.”

He took a harsh breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, feeling his control returning. “So it doesn’t matter whether I object to her going or not.”

“No.” Leia also seemed to be breathing more deliberately.

“Well,” he said. “Then I guess it’s decided. I’ll have to go.”

“You’ll have to go?”

“Yeah. Because someone’s going to have to keep you out of trouble.” He took another long breath. “And that’s a job that I always seem to be doing anyway, so it’ll be nothing new. You could even say I’m the resident specialist at that.”

She started to sputter, but anything that might have come out of her mouth was stopped by the general’s unexpected smile. “You have to admit, Your Highness. He has a bit of a point.”

“A bit of a —”

“Look, there was some reason you guys came to ask me about doing this. Is it really so strange that I agree with you?”

“About keeping me out of trouble? That wasn’t the reason I suggested you!”

“Does it matter?” He met her eyes again. “If the goal is the same? When do we leave?”

Chapter Text

Han had been in the middle of taking a long sip of his after-dinner caf — the mess hall had at least gotten that right today — when he saw it. Swallowing, he put the cup down a bit too loudly.

Leia barely looked up from her own screen. “What?”

“This report isn’t right.”

“What about it?”

“It describes the Nrangon Highlands as a desert area. Last time I was on Wrothia, the entire planet was pretty heavily forested. A lot of it was flat-out jungle.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s why we sent observers in. One of the Imperial probe surveys we sliced into described the area as desert, with the data to back it up.” She paused. “We’d thought it might be some sort of bizarre climate change, but it had happened too quickly for even that. And it wasn’t what had happened. The area was completely cleared.”

He blinked. “The entire Nrangon Highlands has been cleared?” That had to be millions of square klicks. “Over how much time?”

“How long ago were you last on Wrothia?”

“Seven or eight years.”

“In the last seven or eight years, then. You can see why we wanted to investigate that.”

“Yeah, no kidding. When did the Alliance send your guys in?”

“Right after Yavin Four, according to this,” she replied, indicating the pad she had been studying. “And we’d been getting good reports until about four months ago. Apparently the Empire decided to use the area as a testing ground and the foliage got in the way.”

“What happened four months ago?”

“That’s what I’m going in to find out.”

He pursed his lips. “There wasn’t anyone else available?”

“No.” She raised her chin slightly.

“So what’s the plan, then? Is that what you’re going over?”

“The mission is under my full discretionary judgment. I haven’t reviewed all of the options or made final decisions yet.”

“What?” Han let his own pad drop to the table in surprise. “Are you telling me we’re leaving tomorrow and you don’t even have a plan yet?”

Her eyes flashed, but he noticed that they didn’t quite meet his. “There will be one by the time we need one.”

“You’re damn right there will! Where’s Rieekan?”

“We don’t need him.” She flushed slightly. “This is my mission.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not a mission at all. It’s a suicide run!”

Her flush became darker. “The plan is to develop the extraction plan after we get to Wrothia and have a chance to survey the situation.”

“How will you get to Wrothia without a ship?” He leaned back and folded his arms. “Because I’m not launching the Falcon until there’s a full mission profile.”

“I can always get another pilot.”

“Can you? Especially after I tell Rieekan the reason I’m refusing the mission? Not to mention the other pilots?”

Her voice dropped ominously. “Don’t you dare try to blackmail me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you knew what you were doing!”

“If I knew what I was —” she broke off, starting to splutter. “You aren’t the one in charge here!”

“As a pilot I am.” Shifting slightly, he caught her eyes before she could look away again. “So either come up with an extraction plan, one that actually makes sense and has a contingency or two, or the whole thing’s scrubbed. I’m not negotiating on this.”

“How dare you! These are my missions, and I have full discretion, and that includes deciding whether or not we launch. Not you! If I can’t —”

“That’s enough.”

Both of them stopped abruptly to stare at the person who’d interrupted them. Han gave an inward cheer. Leia was going to have to deal with Rieekan whether she wanted to or not.

“Your voices,” said the general, “are carrying through the entire mess hall while you discuss a classified mission. As long as you’re talking about judgment and discretion, would either of you care to explain that particular lapse to me or Central Command?”

Leia took one sharp breath and drew herself up. “No, sir. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

“Solo?”

“I’ll be more careful.”

“Good.” The general looked between them again. “Now you can tell me what happened.”

Leia’s color rose again, but she kept her composure. “We disagreed about the extraction plans for Wrothia.”

“Disagreed? The plans don’t even exist in the first place!”

“Well, as far as you’re concerned,” she shot back, “the mission apparently doesn’t either.”

“From what I’m hearing it doesn’t!”

Rieekan, to Han’s surprise, rolled his eyes. “You two are worse than my children ever were. Do I need to send one or both of you to bed without your dinner?”

Despite his irritation, he couldn’t hide a small smile. “We can work it out, General. Your Worshipfulness, maybe we should finish this back at the Falcon?”

“No,” she replied, and her voice had become almost scarily calm. “There’s no need, at least not yet. General, request permission to return to my station and finalize the extraction details. Including contingency planning.”

Han felt his smile become a smirk as Rieekan shook his head. “Dismissed, then.”

“Thank you,” Han said after she was gone.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She means well, and just this morning, she was on the receiving end of a pretty blistering lecture about the need to stay as flexible as possible when it came to mission planning.”

“There’s a difference between remaining flexible and not making any plans at all.”

“It’s just an overreaction. Likely you’d have had a good profile by the time you had actually gotten to Wrothia.”

“General, we lift off in the morning.”

“And we both know she’d have worked all night to develop that profile if need be.”

The older man likely had a point, and he wasn’t able to think up a quick counter for it, so Han settled for taking another sip of the caf. “Well, now maybe she’ll work on it earlier and have a chance for some sleep instead. Even if it means she has to sack out on the Falcon for a few hours while we’re in transit. I cleared out a crew locker for her on the last mission, so she has some toiletries and a change of clothes on board if she needs them.”

“I’m sure she appreciates that.”

He couldn’t quite manage to hide the snort.

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss the idea, Captain. She cares a great deal about your opinion of her.”

“Sure could fool me.”

Rieekan took a mug of caf from a petty officer, thanking her with a nod. “Are you joking?”

“What? No.”

The other man stared at him for a long moment. “Good stars, Captain, I thought of all the people on this base, you’d have realized she has a bit of a crush on you.”

“I…” he trailed off, wondering how to explain. Could he start by saying he’d thought things might have been going that direction at one point, but that ever since he’d come back, it had seemed to become more of an occasionally-flirtatious friendship? But that would require explaining exactly what had been behind his decision to leave for several months, and he had no desire to bring that topic up. Besides, it would sound awfully defensive.

Just about anything would, he realized. He decided to keep it simple. “No. I didn’t.”

“Didn’t, or didn’t want to?”

“To be honest,” he said slowly, “yes. The thought had crossed my mind, but it seems like we’re always arguing about something.”

“Foreplay.”

Han nearly choked on his caf. “Two-and-a-half years is an awfully long time for that.”

“Is it? Especially when she’s trying to protect herself?” Rieekan shook his head. “Captain, I honestly thought you understood. She’s terrified that she’ll get hurt, so it’s about the only way she knows how to express herself. I’d have said something sooner, but I’d also gotten the impression that you weren’t interested.”

“It’s not that. Well, it is that. Not exactly, though.” He took a breath, trying to organize his thoughts. “I just hadn’t thought about it that way in a while.”

“Well, at this point, I’d ask you how you do feel about her, but it looks like you have some thinking to do. So instead, I’m just going to say, ‘go easy on her,’ and then let the two of you figure it out yourselves.” He met Han’s eyes. “But don’t lose track of the mission. These things can be a distraction.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Don’t get all stiff on me, Solo, and don’t worry either. I’m not going to bring this up again.” Rieekan finished his caf and stood up. “I should apologize for making you uncomfortable, and end this conversation. So I will.”

“Thank you, General.”

“You’re still lifting off in the morning, and I’ll be sure you have a mission profile. Try to get some sleep between now and then.”

“I will.”

But as he watched the general leave the mess hall, Han wondered how that could even be a possibility. He should be fretting over how to handle dealing with Leia now that this had come out, but on the other hand, she likely hadn’t authorized that particular observation. It might be fun to call her out on it, just to see what happened.

Or, as Rieekan had pointed out, it might be a distraction.

With a grimace, he shoved the mug across the table and pushed to his feet. They had a mission to complete, damn it. That was already going to be complicated enough.

Chapter Text

He found her exactly where he’d expected to: sitting next to the medical bunk. What he hadn’t expected was the way she was sitting. She was bent forward, her elbows on her knees, her face buried in her hands. Han watched her for a long moment, but her shoulders stayed steady and there were no sounds that suggested crying.

“Leia,” he rumbled. “I’m sorry.”

She’d sat up at the sound of her name, but was still turned toward the bunk. “Thank you.”

“His, ah…” he trailed off, fumbling for words. “He can’t stay there. It’s a good two days back to the base, even in hyperspace, and…”

“I know,” she said quietly. “Do you have a cryo unit on board?”

“No. But I don’t think there’s anything in Cargo Bay Two that needs to be kept warm, and the bays all have independent temperature control. So if I just turned it way down in there…”

“It should be enough to hold the body for a couple of days,” she concluded. “Thank you. I thought we were going to have to jettison him.”

He fidgeted. It really would be better if they did — and burial in space wasn’t that terrible — but she wouldn’t have asked after the cryo unit if that had been her first choice. Clearly, there had been some sort of history between Leia and Harlo Jeskon.

“Was he Alderaanian?” he asked.

Leia nodded, and now she turned to face him. “Yes. And yes, to your next question too.”

“Next question?”

“Yes,” she repeated. “We were involved. A long time ago. It ended around the time I was first tapped to support my father.”

“I thought you were only fourteen or fifteen when that happened.”

She smiled faintly. “Puppy love. We met in school, and he was…” a faint flush stole across her cheeks. “It was the first kiss for both of us. We went together for maybe half a year.”

“The first one is always special,” he answered, trying not to shuffle his feet. “Um, he’s a pretty decent size now. Do you need some help to…”

“Actually,” she said, “I was going to ask if you could spare Chewie.”

He closed his eyes briefly, relieved. At least she wasn’t going to be unreasonable. “Yeah. We’re on autopilot anyway.”

Leia flicked her eyes up. “Could you wait a few more minutes? Not long. Just enough to —”

“Yeah,” he answered a little too quickly. “And I can get lost too, if you need me to.”

“No. I’ve said the things that needed to be said privately.” Her eyes flicked up. “Unless you’d rather go back to the cockpit.”

That sounded like a great idea, but Han found a crate and dragged it over next to her. “Nah. What’d you want to talk about?”

“I’m not sure. I’m not sure there’s much to talk about. We hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“Since before or after the Alliance?”

“Before. But we both knew the other one had joined.” She paused. “He’d gotten married right before the Death Star.”

“Was she on Alderaan?”

She nodded.

“That’s more awful than most.” He paused. “Unless you believe they’re together again now, or something like that.” He’d occasionally heard her make references to the Alderaanian religion, but they weren’t proselytizers. There wasn’t much available about their beliefs on the data nets.

She sighed. “We do, and yes, before you ask, I do. It doesn’t make it any easier for the ones left behind. I’d hoped to be able to renew our acquaintance. The last time we spoke, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms. I felt like he…” she trailed off into a sigh. “I didn’t approve of some of his life choices. I thought he could have done better.”

“Was this before or after he joined the Alliance?”

“Before.” She brushed a strand of hair off the dead man’s forehead. “Like I said, we hadn’t talked in years. I only found out he’d gotten married through a social announcement, and a few months later he appeared at a cell meeting where I was speaking. But we didn’t have a chance to actually talk to each other then.”

“I see.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

Leia shook her head. “It’s old news. Not worth dwelling on for too long.”

“It’s all right, and like I said, the first one is special.” He hadn’t realized he’d reached out to take her hand until he felt it, warm inside of his. “And he had to have been doing something right at some point, or you’d have never agreed to —” how had she put it? “— go with him.”

That elicited a faint smile. “That’s true enough. And I’m sure you’re speaking from experience.”

“Hey,” he said, recognizing the jest but keeping any responding sarcasm out of his tone. “We all had a first time. Even me.”

An eyebrow quirked. “Do you even remember your first kiss?”

Oddly, he did, but he didn’t really want to admit that it’d been part of one of the more complicated scams that Shrike had been running. Han hadn’t specifically been told to romance the art dealer’s daughter, but he had been ordered to “make nice” with her in order to learn more about the operation. They’d shared their first kiss in a storage room, surrounded by shrouded sculptures.

Or, he reflected sardonically, his first kiss. She hadn’t been anywhere near as innocent as she’d pretended, and she’d figured out Shrike’s group’s angle pretty quickly. Within days, she’d helped to turn the swindle back onto Shrike’s group.

Leia’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I see you do. Do you know where she is now?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “But I suppose she’s probably still in Coronet City. It…didn’t end well.”

“I’m sorry. How old were you?”

“About thirteen. And we weren’t…‘involved.’” That had come later. Much later. Even as a hormone-ridden teenager, he’d understood that he didn’t dare risk his heart as long as he was living under Shrike’s thumb.

She squeezed his hand. “That first was Commander Tharen, wasn’t it?”

The mood abruptly broke as Han jerked away from her.

She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for. You don’t have to answer.”

After a long moment, he forced himself to unclench his fists. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “She was the first one who mattered.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it unless you want to.”

It’s okay. The automatic answer was on his lips, but he kept it from coming out. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t ready to talk about Bria yet. He didn’t know if he ever would be. Chewie knew most of the details, having been around for all but the beginning of it, but he hadn’t ever discussed her with anyone else. And he didn’t intend to start now.

Instead, he just nodded. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for sharing that much.” She straightened up and pushed to her feet. “We should go ahead and move Harlo into the cargo hold. I’ll call ahead to the base, see about making arrangements. His family’s gone, I know that, but we ought to do something for him.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he managed. Then, as she began to stride past him, he stopped her. “Leia.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I really am. Just because it’s old pain doesn’t mean…” he thought furiously for a second. “It doesn’t mean it’s not real, or not special. Or that he wasn’t. He was. We’ll do right by him.” Just like, in the end, the Alliance had done right by Bria when they sent her soul diamond back to her parents.

She gave him a long look. “Thank you, Han. That means a lot to me.”

Chapter Text

“All right, Your Worship. This is enough.”

Leia looked up from the data pad she’d been studying. “Excuse me?”

Han responded by waving a data pad of his own. “I know you’re disappointed that Echo Base’s setup is taking longer than expected. But this?” He looked around the hangar, making sure no one else was paying attention. “This particular communiqué was bitchy even for you.”

Her face colored. “Excuse me? Did you just call me a —”

“Bitch? Yes. I did. Because that’s the way you sound in this.” He stared at her, letting his expression say the rest: you got a problem with hearing that, Princess? ’Cause it’s nothing but the truth.

Her nostrils flared. “I’m surprised you have the courage to say it to my face.”

“Courage? No. Courage is what it takes to use this kind of language against an all-volunteer force. Or had you forgotten about that part of it, Sweetheart? This definitely isn’t the way to keep folks from deciding they’ve had enough and jumping ship.”

She folded her arms. “We’re limiting transports on and off of Hoth in order to avoid drawing attention.”

“If someone wants off that ball of ice, they’ll find a way. Especially if you treat them as nothing more than pawns to be moved around. Not everyone’s in this for the Rebellion, you know.”

“As you remind me on a continual basis,” she snapped back. “But the majority of people in the Alliance are.”

“Yeah, well, if this is the way you intend to keep treating them, they won’t be for long. It ain’t like the pay’s all that great, so you gotta give ’em something. And being nice isn’t exactly hard. Isn’t it a part of that diplomatic training you had?”

“Echo Base is taking too long to set up! Every day we’re still on Corianthus is a day the Imperials get closer to tracking us down! You saw the details of the latest deep-space slicer reports. The Empire knows we’re somewhere in this sector already. It’s only going to be a matter of time before they narrow it down.” She paused. “Soft-pedaling that isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

“Neither will crawling on the troops like some kind of drill sergeant! What’s gotten into you lately?” He shook his head. “Ever since we brought Jeskon back you’ve been marching around here like a martinet. Good stars, sometimes you’ve sounded worse than my plebe commander. And that’s saying something, Your Highnessness.”

“If you don’t like it, nobody’s making you stay.”

“What is this? Are you actually asking me to leave?” He stepped closer. “I’ll be glad to, soon as y’all settle my account.”

She shot to her feet. “No! I’m not asking you to leave.” But he had apparently shocked some sense into her with the offer. “We just…we need to move faster, but I’m out of incentives to offer. It’s not like there’s an officers’ instruction manual for managing a situation like this. Those weren’t working anyway. We need something different.”

“You’re running out of ideas for things to say? Maybe we don’t need to fight so hard after all.”

“What?”

“Because the heat death of the universe can’t be that far behind. So it won’t matter if the Alliance wins or not.”

Her color, which had made it all the way back to normal, rose back up. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be!” He made a frustrated gesture. “Whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, it’s not working. People are running out of patience with you. It’s high time someone said something if they haven’t already. Unless that’s what you want?”

“Unless that’s —?” She broke off. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m beginning to think you might be! When’s the last time you had any sort of break?” He had no idea why the question had popped into his head, but after he asked it, he realized how appropriate it was. “A chance to unwind, so you can come back and look at problems objectively?”

“I don’t have time for anything like that!”

“If you don’t want mass desertions, you need to make the time!” He paused. “You yourself said it. There’s no instruction manual for a situation like this. But there is for the machinery on Hoth. The troops can set it up without your micro-management.”

“I am not micro-managing!”

Imitating her gesture from a few minutes before, he folded his arms. “Oh, yeah? Then explain why you want reports from all department heads twice a day from now on, Princess. If that’s not micro-management, it’s damn close. I’d hate to think how you would be if you were actually supervising in person.”

A thoughtful look appeared on her face. “Maybe that’s what I need to do.”

“If you’re just now having that thought, then you definitely need a break.” Han took a breath. “Look, I’m making a supply run in a couple of days. Routine stuff, the kind Rieekan trusts me to handle on my own. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Oh, like that would be a relaxing break. Fending you off for days while things get further and further behind at Echo Base.”

“If you don’t think the folks building Echo Base are competent, why’d you assign them in the first place?”

She glared at him. Han shook his head. “Ran out of things to say, didn’t you. C’mon, Leia,” he said, gentling his tone. “Dieras Terce is a bit of a vacation spot. You can co-pilot and then take some R&R while I’m getting supplies.”

“I thought Chewbacca was your co-pilot,” she remarked. Her color began to fade.

“He’ll be okay if we leave him here for this one. And I’ll make an effort to leave you alone.”

“Right. That’ll be the day.”

“Hey!” he protested. “I can be a perfect gentleman when I want to be!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Care to make a wager on that, Captain?”

His own eyebrows went up in response, but he was glad to realize that the heated tone of their conversation was definitely settling down. “Think I can’t, Your Ladyness?”

“Maybe for a little while, but I’d like to see it last for an entire trip.”

Now a smile was starting. “Does that mean you’ll come on the run?”

“Yes. But only on the condition that you behave. The whole time. If you don’t, then you have to agree to take me to Hoth so I can supervise the crews in person. And you can’t complain about my management methods anymore.”

Han’s smile broadened. “All right, then. You’re on. But I have a condition of my own.”

“Oh?”

Reaching forward, he snatched the data pad out of her hands. “You can’t work on this trip. At all. Step back and let everyone do their jobs.”

“Someone has to monitor Echo Base’s construction —”

“You don’t think they can handle themselves for a few days? I thought you said you weren’t a micro-manager.”

Her lips thinned, but she ended her efforts to get the pad. “What am I allowed to do instead?”

“Help me pilot. Relax. The Ancients know you could stand to catch up on your sleep. Lie on a beach once we’re there. Stare at the walls and do nothing. Go shopping if that’s what you feel like doing. Hells, go to a bar if you want to let your hair down a little. It might even be fun to see that.” He held out the pad. “Are you in or are you out?”

She didn’t reach for the pad this time, and that by itself told Han how very badly she needed this vacation. He’d had to work harder to convince her to do much less.

Well, good, he decided. If this was what it took to get through to her, he was willing.

Chapter Text

Han was relatively well-traveled, and this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d ever been on a beach, but it still startled him how quickly sound and color could fade behind you, particularly at night. Especially, he thought, if there was a storm offshore that might or might not be moving their direction.

Dieras Terce was a resort world now, but it had started out as a mining colony. As a result, the shipyards had been built to handle massive ore carriers, with matching infrastructure around them. After the mines were depleted and the tourist economy began to rise, the old port had fallen into a kind of disuse that was ideal for clandestine meetings of all types, including smugglers.

The Imperials were aware of it, of course, but they’d long since given up trying to monitor the port facilities themselves. Instead they had blockaded the world and tended to search both inbound and outbound ships. The surface, though, they left to itself.

Han’s feet swished against sawgrass as he made his way along the beach.

The boardwalk and nightlife were exciting in that way only an open city could be, loud and colorful with a million things going on at any given time. He’d briefly worried about turning Leia loose on Dieras Terce, but then realized the Princess was more than capable of protecting herself.

Which was what she was doing now. Coming to a clearing, he saw her seated on the sand, her knees up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. She stared out over the ocean as it hissed and boomed, betraying the unseen disquiet just beyond the horizon.

But Han wasn’t fooled into thinking she was too lost in thought. She had both a com-link and a blaster within reach.

He paused at the edge of the clearing. “Thought I might find you here.”

Leia glanced in his direction, but didn’t change position. “Why is that?”

“Not too much wild beach left around here these days. And there’s almost none within walking distance of the boardwalk itself.” He paused. “You can miss the path out here if you don’t look closely.”

She shrugged. “I looked. And I found.”

He sighed. “All right. I just wanted to make sure I knew where you were. I’ll leave you alone now.”

“No,” she answered, and this time she uncurled. She patted the sand beside her. “I just needed a break from all the lights and noise.”

“You could always have gone back to the Falcon,” he pointed out.

“And miss all this?” She gestured out at the sand, the waves, the grass, and there was no trace of sarcasm or annoyance in her tone. “This is…” she sighed. “On Alderaan, we had huge grass plains, but not so much free water. Beaches were few and far between, which was fine because the seawater was dangerous for humans and near-humans anyway. And it stank.”

He swung down beside her. He’d known all this, of course, but was willing to let her keep talking.

“I’d read about beaches as tourist attractions, but I was sixteen the first time I ever experienced one. It was my first trip off-world on Senate business. I was traveling as one of my father’s attachés.”

“Where were you?”

She chuckled. “Right here. Dieras Terce. He knew about this little clearing and showed it to me on a night like this evening. The boardwalk was further away then.” There was a long pause, punctuated only by the sounds of the night and their breathing. “I haven’t been back since. Until now.”

“You should have told me,” he answered quietly. “I could have chosen another port facility.”

“No, it makes sense for you to have chosen this one, since it’s the largest. And nobody held me at blaster-point to get me out here. I just…” she sighed. “It’s not easy to put into words.”

“Even for a diplomat?”

That elicited a brief laugh. “Especially for a diplomat. We’re exquisitely aware of the consequences associated with using the wrong words.”

Han wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so he let silence fall between them again. The tide was coming in; they wouldn’t be able to stay here for more than another half-hour or so. After that, the path to the clearing would be partially under water, which was a dicey prospect given the storm.

“It’s so quiet and peaceful here,” she finally observed. “An island of calm between two storms. It was like that the first night I was here, too, and that was when my father first told me that he was part of the resistance.”

He looked over and found her looking back at him. “That was bold of him to say so openly, since you easily could’ve been followed.”

“Life’s too short to be timid.” She sighed again. “I miss him so much sometimes.”

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t empathize, didn’t know how to offer comfort, but the words were polite enough.

“Thank you.” Leia visibly gave herself a shake. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked.

“When was the first time you saw a beach?”

Perhaps it was the energy in the air, the currents that were fed by the boardwalk and the storm. Perhaps it was because he’d noticed the first traces of gray in his hair this morning. Or maybe, it was just because it was Leia, and Han trusted her.

Rather than offering a pat answer, he told her about the few days he’d spent on Togoria with Bria. How she’d taught him to swim, how he’d experienced the quiet beauty of the wild beach there, how it had been a brief respite from a life already far too complicated and difficult for him to believe there could be any comfort.

Partway through the recitation, he realized they were holding hands as they talked and compared notes about beaches and swimming.

It wasn’t until he felt the wave crash against his boots that he remembered the tide was coming in. Han climbed to his feet, offering Leia a hand up, and together they considered the path from the wild beach back to the developed one. It was already partially submerged, though it appeared the water was only a few inches deep even at the worst parts.

She seemed to agree. “I think we can risk it. And that it’s far less of a risk to go now than to keep waiting.”

He offered his hand again as they made their way along the footpath in the shifting wind and light. Water was beginning to slosh over their feet now, and at one point, about two-thirds of the way back, Leia stumbled. He grabbed her other hand to keep her from going down, swinging her against him for leverage. She was so small.

And yet her eyes shone so brightly when he looked down at her. The sounds of the beach and the boardwalk faded away, replaced by the sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the feeling of hers against his chest. She caught her breath even as she lifted her face up further, and he was bending his own toward hers before he realized what he was doing. Something about this night, as they stood between wild and colorful, was breaking down the barriers between them, and it occurred to Han that that was just as wild a thought as anything else tonight. And then there was her mouth —

A stronger wave hit their ankles, making them both stagger before there was any contact.

Leia glanced down. “Um. We should probably get the rest of the way back to the boardwalk.”

He could feel his face warming. “Yeah. It’s not too much farther.”

“Good.” Then she slid her hand around his and held it for the entire rest of the way back.