Han wants to leave Hoth and pay off his debt. Leia waits just too long to ask him to stay.
Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Lucas Film. I have no affiliation with anyone affiliated with SW. No copyright infringement indeded and all that.
I feel her eyes on me the instant I step into the room.
It's nice to finally be out of that damned parka. Don't get me wrong, I love the cold. But Hoth is just overkill. Being inside the base, well yeah, it's still freezing, but at least I don't need as many layers. My plain black jacket is plenty now, and so much more comfortable.
I pause to look at a map, then continue on to find General Rieekan. Seeing me, he looks up from the computer screen he's leaning towards. "Solo."
"No sign of life out there, General," I tell him, hands on my hips. "The sensors are in place, you'll know if anything comes around." She's watching me again. She wants to hear about Luke.
"Commander Skywalker reported in yet?"
"No," is my response as I steal a glance at the monitor, "he's checking out a meteorite that hit near him." It's not a big deal, although possibly a waste of time. After all, there's a lot of meteor activity on this freakin' ice cube of a planet. I'm sure the kid'll be fine, but I'm not sure why he decided to risk investigating in this weather.
"With all the meteor activity in this system it's gonna be difficult to spot approaching ships," General Rieekan says, mirroring my earlier thoughts almost exactly. Speaking of ships, I might as well tell him the news now.
"General, I gotta leave, I can't stay anymore." That got her attention. I'm not sure where, exactly, she is, but she's close enough to hear my conversation. Her eyes are on me again. Or maybe they have been the entire time.
Rieekan's gaze shifts up again, looking me straight in the eye this time. "I'm sorry to hear that."
I shrug. There's nothing I can do, really. "Well, there's a price on my head, if I don't pay off Jabba the Hutt I'm a dead man."
"The death mark's not an easy thing to live with." He looks up for the last time, holding out his hand. I shake it warmly. In my time with the rebels, I've learned to like the command staff. They gave me an award and like to compliment me. "You're a good fighter, Solo. I hate to lose you." He smiles genuinely, but he understands that I can't stay.
"Thank you General," I say, letting go of his hand and turning on my heel. Immediately I see her, turning to look over her shoulder at me. We make eye contact, and I cross the room to stand in front of her.
"Well Your Highness, guess this is it." I don't want to say goodbye, not to her. And I don't think she wants to say goodbye either. After all, she has been watching me. Luke, she wants to know about Luke. This is where your overconfidence becomes your downfall. She doesn't care that you're leaving, she's waiting to hear about Luke. But my feelings and my thoughts have been at war over her since the Death Star.
The Princess nods slightly and says the worst thing I could have heard from her. Two words that confirm the thought I just had. It's Luke she cares about. "That's right."
It takes a second for that to sink it, but when it does, I drop my eyes, give a little nod, and say, "Well don't get all mushy on me, so long Princess." Even I hear the bitter tone in my voice as I stalk away, back towards the hangar where Chewie sits on top of my baby, the Millennium Falcon, making last minute repairs.
"Chewie we're getting the hell off this goddamned ice cube," I tell him, climbing the familiar ramp up onto my ship. I can't believe it. She doesn't care. She just doesn't fucking care. I saved her ass, Luke's, and the Rebellion's. They'd all be dead now, destroyed by that massive fucking Death Star if I hadn't turned around and risked my neck and my reward. But no, she's after pretty-boy Luke Fucking Skywalker because he made some 'miracle' shot using the Force. He wouldn't have made that shot without me.
I pull back my arm, my hand in a tense fist, but after a moment I unclench my fingers and run them through my hair instead. Breathe, I instruct myself. Punching a metal wall isn't going to do me much good. Unless I break my hand and have to stay here until it heals. Girls always have sympathy for injured guys… if they're hurt during a fight. Not punching a goddamned wall because they're angry that that same girl doesn't care.
I hear footsteps on the ramp behind me. They're too light to be Chewie, which makes me realize I'm in view of the hangar floor within ten feet or so of the ship. Probably someone who was passing by wants to see if I'm okay. Great, some flyboy is concerned. Just what I need. Or they want to say good-bye. I'm hoping it's the second one, but still I snap at them.
"What?" I ask irritably, glancing over my shoulder. I do a double take. No, my eyes aren't playing tricks on me like I'd thought. At least, they don't seem to be. I turn on the figure standing mere feet away from me, my heart pounding. "What'd you want?" I don't sound angry now. No, my voice is as icy as the air outside, but not angry.
Leia looks a little taken aback. "I was coming to say goodbye." Her tone is only a few degrees warmer than mine. "But if you'd rather I leave…"
"I would rather, Your Highness," I spit at her. Women, they're all the same. I can't stand them. I told myself years ago that I'd never fall in love again, but here I am, and I don't know why. "Now get off my ship. We don't tolerate stowaways here."
As if to corroborate my statement, Chewie lets out one of his loudest roars just behind Leia. Admittedly it's a goodbye, but it's loud and to human ears doesn't sound friendly. The Princess starts and looks back at him, shoots me one last look, and heads back into the hangar. Was I imaging it, or was there some hurt in that expression?
No, Han, there wasn't. Get to the cockpit, pay off your debt, and let's… go… home.