Leia was almost finished for the day. She'd finished out the sorting and cataloguing of the ever-growing collection of items she hoped never to need. Various materiel had piled up quickly in the first week she'd been back from Sibensko- everyone in her inner circle seemed to have a contact or two who was willing to contribute to Leia's illicit war chest. But the rush of goods had stopped almost as quickly as it had started. It was a prime example of how far her political credit had fallen. Had the Vader story never come to light, maybe the Senate would have listened to her- maybe the resources being marshalled now would be official ones. Or maybe her off-the-books efforts would still be necessary, but were it not for her current status as pariah, she'd likely have access to all manner of back-channel and surplus merchandise.

As it was, she was just going to have to make do with what she had. Something was better than nothing. She had squirreled away the beginnings of an operational force. She had mustered a small but mighty group of people who were as dedicated to fighting the looming threat as she was. It was something.

She started a bit when she heard footfalls on the sidewalk outside her storage locker. One of the doors was standing open, and even though she'd organized the stacks of goods so that fuel rods, medical supplies, and emergency rations blocked the view of detonators and concussion grenades from all sides. Still, she was possibly the most hated being in the Republic at the moment and the idea of being cornered somewhere by a stranger concerned her.

But it only took a moment's for her to recognize the footsteps as friendly. She knew Han was scheduled to land today; the Sabers had ended the night before, and he'd called her to let her know he was on the way back. Leia had meant to be back in their apartment before he got in, but the time must have gotten away from her. She turned her attention back to her final inspection of the contents of her Resistance locker; she wanted to be done with this so she could leave with Han as soon as possible.

She was standing near the doorway, finishing her count of ration cases, when he came to stand behind her. "Looking good," Han said, threading his arms around his wife and resting his chin on the top of her head.

"We've managed a lot in a short amount of time."

"I was talkin' about your backside. But yeah, the locker looks good, too." Leia swatted him playfully before turning in his arms to plant a kiss on his lips.

"Welcome home," she said.

"Mmmmmm," Han sounded in reply. "It's good to be here."

"Sorry I wasn't home when you got there."

"Came here first," he replied. "It was on the way. I wanted to see how far this little project of ours had come since I've been gone. And I meant it, your Generalship," he added, "it really is impressive."

"I'm pleased," she said, turning again to survey the contents of their rented locker, "but we're nowhere near ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For whatever is coming," she replied, signing as she leaned backward into his chest. "I'd like to get more surveillance equipment," she said after a minute, "I think we'll be better prepared if we can see what's headed for us."

"Got any leads?"

"No. Not yet. It's hard," she admitted. "No one's really speaking to me. Even the few who haven't abandoned me entirely can't be seen openly supporting me or my crazy ideas. So nobody's willing to go out on a limb and help."

"Still?"

"You've only been gone three weeks, Han," she reminded him. "Political poison has a longer half life than that."

"You know," he said, as he brought his hands to her shoulders, "I may have a couple of contacts we could try."

"Really?"

"Hey," he replied, "old smugglers never die, they just turn to making book on Series races." Leia chuckled. It was remarkable how many of Han's friends from the old days had cropped up in the last few years on the fringes of the racing world. Leia liked to think that a quarter century of living under a fair and peaceful government- one that allowed independent shippers to make a living without the need to turn to smuggling- had something to do with the rash of retirements. But it probably had more to do with the general progress of gamblers and aging than it did with the regime change.

"And you'd be willing to get in touch with them?" she asked. Han shook his head.

"I'll do ya one better."

"What's that?"

"Let's go talk to 'em," he suggested. "You and me. Together." Leia turned to face him again.

"You sure you want to do that?" she asked. "You made it pretty clear you don't want to get involved in another war." Their conversations on the subject had been long and involved, and Leia understood that her husband had no interest in spending his golden years once again engaged in open warfare. She understood that; it wasn't her preference, either. And they'd both agreed that they hoped to avoid it. But in case a war came, she wasn't going to be caught unprepared. Han had been willing enough to support her need for preparations, but this was the first she'd heard of his willingness to go to work in furtherance of her cause.

"Yeah, well," he allowed, "I don't mind pulling a couple of cargo runs here and there. You see how good that worked out for me the last time." Leia chuckled.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice clearly teasing.

"Oh yeah," he teased back. "I made a little money, got declared a hero, and I talked a princess into marryin' me."

"Sounds like you did all right. No wonder you want to do it again."

"I can have the ship fueled in an hour," he told her, so matter-of-factly that she was sure he meant business.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You just got here. You haven't even been home yet."

"Home is where my wife is," he replied glibly. "And besides: I seem to recall that before all this First Senator/Vader business happened, you were thinkin' about blowin' this quagmire to come and have adventures with me, remember?" Leia nodded. "Well, I've got five weeks before anybody expects me anywhere. And you've said it a dozen times that you've got nothin' really goin' on here. So let's go," he insisted. Leia took a deep breath and considered it.

He was right that she hadn't anything pressing. And if anything were to come up, her office would know how to reach her. "Just the two of us," she whispered, enjoying very much the idea of five weeks alone in space with her handsome scoundrel.

"Yes, ma'am," he said back, kneading at her shoulder with his fingers as he bent to nibble lightly at her earlobe.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "Let's go home. I can pack a few things, get some hard currency together. We'll eat everything in the kitchen cooler that might spoil in the next five weeks. Then we'll go to bed early, and we'll leave in the morning."

The way Han smiled made her eyes well up. How had she gone this long without seeing how badly he missed her when he was away? She'd always reasoned that he'd have stayed around more if the separation was getting to him, but now she saw that reasoning hadn't been fair. His career was no less important than hers- a fact that she was only coming to realize now that she had a few weeks distance from the halls of government. Her choices- her visceral need to put the galaxy at large ahead of her own happiness- had effected his happiness, too. And it was high time she started making it up to him.

"You got a deal, sweetheart," he said, turning to steer her out of the storage locker. "It's been way too long since we've gone on any adventures together."

"Yes it has," she agreed. "And I'm ready for the next one."