Author's Note: No copyright infringement is intended. I am not profiting from writing this. If you want to really look into it, I'm losing money, since I could be out doing something less fun and more productive.

Han: Making Plans

Han sat on a stool at the makeshift bar observing the festivities and nursing his first and only drink of the evening. He had clearance to lift off while everyone else was still recovering tomorrow morning, and it would not fit his plans to need recuperation as well. He recalled with a grin the speech General Willard had given as the party got underway after the medal ceremony. While not a professional speaker, the general could certainly elicit reactions—the groans as he told the assembled that they would need to begin preparations for evacuation the following day, and the outright laughter caused by his admonition to avoid the irony of succumbing to the celebration of the victory after having survived the battle.

Han's amusement faded, however, as he began mental preparation for his departure from Yavin 4. He did not look forward to trying to convince his co-pilot that it was the best plan of action. He knew Chewbacca would put up a fight, arguing the morality of staying to help the freedom fighters instead of casting them aside. Perhaps Han could influence Chewie to remain with the rebels, at least until Han returned from paying off the debt he owed to Jabba. He had no desire to further endanger his friend, and a visit to the Hutt would not exactly be safe. Yeah, he thought, if he stays here, he doesn't have to die with me if Jabba decides not to accept payment. Before he could start planning that conversation, he heard very light, uneven footfalls approaching behind him. As he turned, the owner of the footfalls spoke.

"Captain Solo, may I have a moment of your time?"

Han eyed the speaker suspiciously for a moment before he replied, "Sure, Your Worship. As long as it ain't a recruitment speech, I'm all ears."

The princess swayed slightly and blinked rapidly a few times before continuing. "I am in need of a favour, and the general consensus seems to be that you would best suit my needs." Leia looked around warily before she whispered, "I can't discuss this here. Meet me in the hangar in 15 minutes."

Han watched the woman walk away, wondering how drunk she was, and whether he should follow her instruction, or simply enjoy the party a while longer. He decided, as he tossed down the rest of his watery ale, that he was too curious about the princess's "favour" to ignore it. He began to make his exit, stopping to slap the intoxicated Luke on the back, and to encourage the rest of the pilots to continue to buy the kid drinks. Several people stopped and congratulated Han along the way, and he regretted having to turn down the private celebrations some offered as he left the mess hall.

At nearly the appointed time, Han entered the main hangar to find the princess pacing at the bottom of the Falcon's ramp, alternately wringing her hands and rubbing her upper arms. Though he had known Leia for only a short time, he thought it strange that, although they had met in an Imperial detention block, she looked more nervous than he'd ever seen her.

When Han entered her line of sight, Leia stopped her pacing and indicated the ship with a tilt of her head. "Can we talk inside?" Without waiting for a reply, Leia turned and started up the ramp, stumbling slightly as she reached the top. She managed to catch herself on the strut before disappearing into the ship, but her unsteadiness was enough to jolt Han out of his surprised paralysis, and he followed her up the ramp.