Luke approached his friend as he was offloading a pile of small crates from the forward hold of The Millennium Falcon. Han had just returned from a quick turnaround to Mnubria- a trip that he'd made a very vocal point about not wanting to take. Had it been anything other than medicines, he would have begged off, but he'd grown a soft spot for the Alliance Medical Corps of late, so he'd agreed to take on the errand.

"Heya, kid," Han greeted his friend.

"Leia's not cooperating," Luke said then cutting straight to the point he'd come here to discuss.

"Well, color me surprised," Han said back with a shrug as he continued to load the little cases from the hold onto a waiting repulsor cart. But Luke looked impatient. "Seriously," Han added, finally pausing to give his friend his full attention, "She's never been a particularly cooperative girl, Luke. What is it she's doin' now that's got you feelin' like you oughta tell me about it?"

"It isn't me she's not cooperating with this time," Luke replied. "It's her doctors. She's not listening to her care team."

Han nodded. That sounded like her highness all right. Leia wasn't very good at responding to invisible danger. As far as she was concerned, she had a wound in her side; it had been treated and bandaged, she was managing her pain, and that was that. Never mind the parts of the story where she nearly bled to death and almost died from sepsis- that stuff just didn't matter. And with her very powerful aversion to all things medical, Han could see where she was trying to put the whole Skorii-Lei business behind her.

"So I'm guessin' you think we oughta do somethin' about it?" Han asked. Luke nodded.

"If we can. Got any ideas?"

Han nodded. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed. But having been the one to carry her aboard the Falcon and sit by her through the night when there was still a very real chance that she might not make it back to base had made him a little extra-sensitive on the subject of her health. So he'd figured he was overreacting to her possibly ignoring her long-term recovery. But if it was also bothering Luke, then maybe it wasn't such an overreaction.

"Yeah," Solo admitted, "I got a couple. Chewie!" he called out to his copilot. The Wookiee was tinkering with a set of hydraulic lines seated in the underside of the Falcon's hull. He ducked out from behind the open panel and replied with an interested trill. Han motioned with his head for Chewie to join them. He was sure by how quickly his copilot hurried over that Chewie had been listening in. "Do me a favor, will ya?" Han asked his buddy as soon as he was close enough that there was no chance of being overheard. "Get a crew to work on the Falcon," he requested. Chewie warbled his confusion; it wasn't often that Han let any Alliance mechanics lay a hand on his beloved freighter. "Yeah, buddy, I know," Han said, "but sometimes ya gotta do whatcha gotta do. And right now we gotta get the old girl ship-shape and in a hurry. Ask Antilles and Januu," he recommended, "whoever they'd trust, I'll trust. But we gotta get it done quick, and we gotta keep it quiet, ya know?"

Chewie nodded his head. He did know. He trilled his understanding as he stepped away from the others. Solo had something up his sleeve- it probably involved the princess, and for it to work, he needed the ship to perform as expected and have no surprises in store. That much he was sure he could handle. As for anything else involving Solo and the princess, he was sure he'd never fully understand that dynamic.

"What are you thinking?" Luke asked his friend. Solo shrugged.

"I'll tell you when I'm sure," Han replied. "But for now I'm just gonna need you to keep her worship out of the hangar. She so much as gets a whiff of this repair crew aboard the Falcon and she'll know somethin's up. Can you help me?"

"Sure," Luke replied, "I can do that."

"Good. I'll come find you when things are firm. Right now I gotta go scare up a cargo."

##&##

"Hey, highness, I gotta talk to you!" Leia looked up from her reading and sighed.

"Hello, Han," she said back.

"You got a minute?" he asked, flopping into bench beside her as though there was no chance of her answering in the negative.

"I might," she replied with a scowl, "if you promise to refrain from royal epithets." Han chuckled, but nodded. In truth, Leia felt relieved that Solo had come to chat. Even an argument with him would be a few minutes reprieve.

Luke had come to her yesterday asking that she pretty please give him a primer on the Alliance Uniform Code of Military Justice. He was looking to be promoted to Group Leader, he'd told her, and the place where he was seriously lacking was in his understanding of the regs. He'd pointed out that, with her life spent in the halls of legislation, she was the absolute most qualified of his friends to help him out on this front, and he'd been so sweet with the way he'd asked that she just couldn't say no.

Which had resulted in her spending the last day and a half pouring over the parts of the Uniform Code that were relevant to and enforceable by officers of The Line. She'd been flattered by the request at the time, and she was happy to help her friend advance, but The Code was a complex and tedious read. She welcomed the chance to come up for air- even if it was in the company of Han Solo.

"No name calling," he promised.

"So," she asked, "what is it? What do you need to talk to me about?"

"I got asked to pick up a cargo that I think could use your particular skill set."

"Really?" Leia asked. She'd been on plenty of supply runs with Solo before, but she wasn't sure he'd ever asked for her 'particular skill set'. There was something fishy going on, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"Yeah, really," he replied. "It ain't like it's dangerous or anything," he added, "it's just that…" he scooted closer to her and inclined his head toward her ear before going on, "I think this one requires a girl."

"What?" Leia quizzed. She looked offended, and that was the last thing Han wanted from her in this moment. He had to get her to agree to this or his ridiculous plan to get her to take it easy for a few days wasn't going to work.

"I saw the manifest," he shared. "And I got about as far as 'menstrual supplies' when I decided I wasn't the guy to take delivery on this stuff. I wouldn't know what I was lookin' at," he explained. "This stuff needs a woman to check it out, make sure it's legit, make sure the Alliance is gettin' what they paid for. And seein' as you're the only lady I can imagine havin' aboard the Falcon all the way to Kalyspil and back, I came to ask if you'd please come along and handle this pickup." Leia shook her head and set down her datapad on the bench between them.

"Why is it that men are so uncomfortable with women's bodies?" she asked. "Does the idea of shipping hygiene supplies really bother you that much?"

"No," he answered abruptly, before she had a chance to ask any further question on the subject. "I don't mind haulin' the stuff. It doesn't squick me out or make me uncomfortable. But there's no way I'm gonna know if the quality of this cargo is up to snuff. I get that these...items… are necessary and I'd hate to be the guy who brought back a whole freighter's full of sub-standard goods."

Leia frowned at Solo beside her. This was the most reasoned, cogent, argument she might have imagined Solo making under the circumstances. And as much as a trip to Kalyspil would likely be an exercise in tedium, she could use a jaunt aboard the Falcon right about now. Not once since she'd been released from Medical had Han asked after her well-being beyond a casual 'how ya doing' and he hadn't made even the most passing mention of her needing to 'slow down' or 'take care of herself'.

She was well aware of the extent of her injuries on Skorii-Lei, but she was past that now. The forced idleness of her long-term recovery on base was causing her no end of grief. There was always something to fiddle with aboard the Falcon- always something that needed fixing or tuning, always some little way she could find to occupy herself and feel useful.

Suddenly, this trip- this excuse to get out from under the watchful eye of all her well-intentioned friends and colleagues, was sounding like a very very good idea.

Luke's deeper understanding of The Uniform Code could wait until they got back.