CHAPTER 1:

Han Solo leaned back, crossed his right leg over his left, and rested his elbow on the back of his chair. Across from him sat a middle-aged man with a weathered face, silver-laced brown hair, and goatee. Like Solo, Nevin Ryse reposed in his seat, his green eyes staring into Han's. The mood between the two men vibrated with tension. Behind Ryse stood two of his Barabel bodyguards, their razor sharp teeth exposed. The weathered body armor they wore over their chest and shoulders was more for show; the dark-colored scales that covered their bodies offered enough protection from most weapons. Both Barabels rested their hand on the hilt of their machetes, ready for action. Han knew that his blaster would only slow these two monstrous creatures, not kill them—if things came down to that.

Beside Han, stood Luke Skywalker, dressed as a smuggler in dark brown pants, black shirt, and a yellow jacket with numerous utility pockets. On his belt hung his holstered blaster and his light saber, the ancient weapon used by the Jedi that once belonged to his father. His thumbs were hooked in the belt loops of his pants, his stance casual but attentive to the players in the room. Han knew that the kid looked as if he posed no threat to Ryse and his bodyguards, but Luke had spent hours practicing with that light saber of his, and Han knew Luke would be an asset if things turned sour.

Not that they'd survive if it came down to that.

Nevin Ryse was a warlord who could be more ruthless than Jabba the Hutt, his tastes and mannerisms were more refined, reflecting his privileged background. Wealthy by birth, Ryse didn't need to turn to crime to make his fortune. He fell into his current occupation by choice; he loved the power he held in the underworld and reveled in the fear he inspired. He wheeled, dealed, and controlled the most of the trading routes in the Tion Cluster, yet his legitimate businesses were high class, cutting-edge, and quite lucrative.

Han Solo and Luke Skywalker had been brought to Ryse's private room in the back of the Star Breeze, one of warlord's upscale dance clubs. Most of Ryse's shadier dealings took place in backrooms such as this one, but this particular backroom happened to be the most important. It was his lair of sorts, and very few outside his most trusted lackeys have ever seen it. It was ornately decorated with gold and burgundy tones accenting the walls and furniture, and the ambience lighting inspired one to relax and drop his guard, for Ryse always aimed at throwing his opponents off-balance.

Solo, however, wasn't affected by such parlor tricks. Though his posture radiated an air of relaxation, his muscles were alert and ready should he have to take action. And he could feel Luke was anything but relaxed. Han was impressed with the kid. He had his doubts that the young want-to-be Jedi would be able to hold his own in the presence of a warlord with a wicked reputation. Luke didn't possess a lot of patience and was known for his impulsiveness. Han initially rejected Luke's whiny appeals to accompany him on this mission, mainly because of his whiny-ness. And though Han would have preferred Chewbacca by his side, the Wookie needed to be the one to pilot the Millennium Falcon just in case some fancy flying was necessary. Luke had grown over the last year Han had known him, and although Han held no credence in the Force, the kid had a sixth sense about him that could be most useful during their present mission.

"It's been a long time, Solo," Nevin Ryse gave Han an icy smile. "I'm surprised to see you out and about with that nasty bounty hanging over your head."

Han shrugged. "Well, you know how it is. A guy has got to make a living."

A Tw'lik holding a tray with one hand entered the room and placed two drinks on the table.

Ryse lifted the glass filled with purple liquid. "Alderaanian brandy."

"Hard to come by these days." Han closed his hand around the glass in front of him.

"Yes it is, indeed." Ryse tipped the glass to his mouth then place the glass on the table. "Rumors are circulating about you, Solo."

"I never thought you'd be the kinda man who listens to rumors."

"There is always some grain in truth in rumors," he eyed Han for a moment then leaned forward. "So the rumors aren't true?"

"Which rumors are you referring to?" Han swallowed a gulp of brandy.

"The ones about you joining the rebellion," Ryse raised an eyebrow.

Han grinned. "Have you ever known me to join anything, especially a losing cause?"

Ryse narrowed his green eyes for a moment. "No. You've always been out for yourself." His focus then shifted to Han's companion. "Where's Chewbacca?"

"Visiting family."

"Hm. So who's the kid?"

Han glanced at Luke standing at his side, noting the indignant expression on his face. "He wants to be a smuggler," Han shrugged. "I'm teachin' him the ropes." He held out his hand, "Luke, Ryce. Ryce, Luke."

"Ah, a protégé." Ryse smiled at Luke. "A smuggler has to be willing to get his hands dirty. You don't seem the type."

"Looks can be deceiving," Han answered before Luke could get in a word.

"So what can I do for you, Solo?"

"I've been hired to get back something you took."

"And what would that be?"

"One Alderaanian princess." Han swirled the Alderaanian brandy around in his glass.

"For the Rebel Alliance?" Ryse raised an eyebrow.

"For an interested party," Han countered.

"An interested party," Ryse smiled and peeked his fingers under his chin. "Are they interested in the reward money? Or do their interests lie in her wellbeing?"

"I dunno. It's just a job, and the money's good."

"Yes, you do have that debt hanging over your head." Ryse leaned back and studied Han. "How's Jabba doing these days?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Yes, I'm sure you're avoiding him."

"Well, that debt will be settled," Han devilishly smiled, "once this job is completed."

"Hmmm…" Ryse pursed his lips. "I doubt your interested party can make an offer that is more appealing than what I'll get from the Empire."

"They may not be able to match the reward the Empire's offering, but their willing to do you a favor."

"A favor?" Ryse laughed.

"You should know better. Holding her is dangerous."

"Is that so?"

"From what I hear, she's a handful."

"That she is," Ryse shook his head, smiling, "but I've rather enjoyed her company."

Han's jaw tightened. He dropped his leg to the floor but kept his arm propped up on the back of the chair.

"Your interested party can't grant me favor with the Empire, and I'm not interested in money."

"Power has always been your thing."

"Yes. Handing the princess over to the Emperor will give me power. Perhaps they'll….overlook my rather illegal operations."

"If they don't arrest you for harboring a fugitive."

Ryse's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"My interested party knows that you have her. It would be a shame if they had to…tip of the Imps."

"Resorting to blackmail?"

"Just relaying the message."

Ryse pressed his lips together then took a sip of his drink. "I doubt they'd do that."

"Why?"

"Because you know me. Because that would certainly get the princess killed, and I'm sure your interested party wouldn't want that." The warlord pulled at his goatee. "I'm very adept at hiding evidence."

Han took a sip of the purple liquid. It was worth a try. Solo knew Ryse had his reservations about trusting the Empire. The Imperial governors haven't been kind to other warlords who did business with them. But handing over the princess….that could work in Ryse's favor—at least for a little while. Was the man willing to take his chances with the Empire?

Solo sighed, "That's exactly what I told them. So they came up with something you might find intriguing?"

"Intrigue me."

"That's where I come in. I know you've always wanted to face off with me in a game of Sabaac." Han rested his elbows on the table.

Ryse's green eyes narrowed before he smiled. "A Sabaac game against you for the Princess of Alderaan."

Han held the man's eyes with his.

"When you lose….what will I get?"

"The Falcon." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chip: the deed for the ship. It spun on the tabletop.

Ryse raise his eyebrows. "You're willing to lose the Falcon for the princess?"

Han gazed into Ryse's eyes, "I don't plan on losin'."

"What's in it for you?"

"Enough credits to pay off Jabba and have a small fortune left over."

"I take it the Falcon is here?"

"Docking bay 56." Han sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You can call your man and confirm that."

Ryse nodded to the Barabel on his right, and the Barabel exited the room. The two men stared at each other as they waited for the Barabel to return.

The warlord smiled at Han and shook his head. "You are one crazy bastard, Solo."

Han flashed a lop-sided grin. "That's my reputation."

Luke shifted his weight to his other foot, his hands wresting on his hips, his impatience growing. Finally, the Barabel returned and nodded at Ryse.

The warlord drummed his fingers on the tabletop. He snapped his fingers at the Twi'lik standing in the corner. "Refresh our drinks….and tell Erew to join us."

Han knew Erew from his old days. Erew was Ryse's most trusted Sabaac dealer. Han had played at his table when he'd do the occasional job for Ryse. The dealer was trustworthy and had no patience for cheating. If someone was caught cheating, Erew would signal for a security guard, and the poor sap be pummeled to death right there at the table. Although the dealer would never order his boss's death, he would keep the game honest.

"Okay. The Falcon's deed is on the table. Where's the princess?"

"That's only fair." Ryse then nodded his head at the Barabel on his right again.

Both Barabels retreated through a door behind Han's host.

"It takes two of them to retrieve one petite princess?"

"You'd be surprised."

The Twi'lik poured more Alderaanian brandy into their glasses as a tense silence settled over the room. It seemed like an eternity as they waited for the Barabels to return, but in reality, it was only a few minutes. Behind Ryse, a door swung open. Han felt Luke's urge to run to her, to protect her. Han purposely shifted to get Luke's attention. He broke his gaze from the girl. Han returned his own attention to Ryse's prisoner. The Barabels each held Princess Leia's arms and dragged her at a speed in which she couldn't keep up, though they weren't moving at a hurried pace. Briefly, her eyes met Han's then shifted to Luke before examining the room. To Han's relief, she showed no sign that she knew them.

"Come over here, Princess." Ryse smiled at Leia, "Come sit with me."

Leia's large brown eyes narrowed on the man as one of the Barabels deposited her at Ryse's side.

Ryse patted his lap, "Come sit here."

Luke wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his light saber and took a step forward. The Barabels hands felt to their machetes. Ryse took note of Luke's actions.

"The kid still has a conscience." Han shot a warning look at Luke. "But he's not stupid."

Luke let go of his saber, but his anger was still visible on his face.

"This boy could be a liability, Solo," Ryse's eyed the aspiring Jedi.

Han scowled at Luke, "How else is he gonna learn?"

Luke's face registered his mistake.

"Hmm…" The warlord returned his attention to the princess and patted his lap. "Come here, Your Highness," his words were forceful and commanding.

Leia swayed, and she took a step back. Ryse then grabbed her hand, and she complied with his order. The warlord wrapped his arms around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Her face was defiant, but Han also noted a touch of resignation in her delicate features. Leia kept her eyes focused on the table. The button down shirt she wore was missing its buttons, revealing the camisole underneath. She wore a very short skirt that shimmered as it caught the light, and her hair hung loose over her shoulders. She also had a black eye and a swollen lip. Han's grip on his glass tightened, and he took a swig of his drink to hide his anger.

"I see you're still into torturing little girls," the smuggler quipped as he stared at the princess.

Leia's large brown eyes snapped up to Han's. His lips then spread into a closed-mouth smile as he caught that flicker of fire in her glassy, dilated eyes.

"I was hoping to get the location of the rebel base from her before I collected my reward from the Imperials," Ryse grabbed Leia's chin and tried to force her to look at him to no avail. Her eyes remained downcast. "That would have curried a lot of favor from the Emperor."

"Not surprised you failed." The right side of Han's lips rose couldn't control his admiration of the young woman. "Vader couldn't break her—so I heard."

"Yes. So I've heard."

Leia squeezed her eyes shut as Ryse grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, exposing the hand-shaped bruises around her neck. "But my methods are more…primitive than that monstrous cyborg's mystical powers."

"If she was easily broken, there wouldn't be a rebellion left."

"I suppose you're right." Ryse shrugged. "But it was worth a try."

Ryse released her hair, and Leia's gaze returned to the table. Han clenched his teeth together, and the muscles in his neck tightened. He turned his glass in circles to reign in his emotions.

"You know…." The warlord sighed as he smoothed the princess's hair. "I don't think the bet is fair."

Solo inhaled. "I don't see it that way," his voice dangerously dropped in pitch.

"She's highly prized in the galaxy. All you're putting up is the Falcon."

Han stared at Ryse. He wasn't expecting this. "I thought we had an agreement."

"I think the princess is worth more to you and your companion."

"It's just a job," Han dismissed. "Honestly, I'm more interested in beating you at Sabaac than rescuing the princess." Solo allowed his opponent time to decide whether or not to believe him.

"Still, it isn't a fair deal." Ryse tucked Leia's hair behind her ear. "You'll win the most valuable thing in the galaxy, and all I'd win is a fast ship."

"The fastest in the galaxy."

"Yes, but the Falcon's not useful without a worthy pilot."

Han ran his lips between his teeth. His hazel eyes then fell on the princess. She sat straight-backed on Ryse's knee as far away from him as she could possibly be. He glanced at warlord's arm around her waist and at Leia's clenched fists upon her lap. He took in the button-less shirt, the short skirt and bruises on her exposed thighs, the bruised eye, swollen lip, and the purple hand print around her neck. He wanted nothing more than to launch himself across the table and pound Ryse into oblivion. Han glanced at Luke whose expression openly showed his emotions.

"You'll get my services for a standard year."

Leia looked up at him. Her large brown eyes housed both surprise and concern, and she opened her mouth as if she were about to speak. But no words came.

"You're willing to give up a year of your life for a girl that means nothing to you?"

"As I said, the money's good enough to pay off Jabba and leave me with a small fortune." He leaned forward in his seat. "And I don't plan on losin'."

Ryse stroked his goatee again, "I don't either."

They stared each other down. Ryse rarely lost, if ever and would be a challenge to beat. But Han was also an adept player of the card game, his skills matching Ryse's, maybe even surpassing his opponent's. The end of the game would determine that. Solo took a sip from his glass to quench his dry mouth. This would be the highest high stakes game he had ever played.

Erew entered the room and stood at the table where Rye, the princess, and Han sat. He had an unopened pack of Sabaac cards in his hand.

"Stand up and remove your shirt."

Han gave the warlord a quizzical look. "Don't trust me?"

"I trust no one."

Han sighed, stood up, shrugged out of his coat, and removed his shirt. Ryse nodded to Erew, and the man slid his hands over Han's and then up and down Han's arms. Then Erew shoved his hands into all the pockets on Han's pants. Han rolled his eyes.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes."

Han plopped down into his chair and took a moment to study Leia who still gazed at him with confusion and fear, her mouth slightly open. Dark rings lay under her large brown eyes.

"Whadya give her?"

"Oh, a little of this…a little of that."

"Looks like more than a little." He frowned. "What exactly did you give her?"

"A hallucigenic, a weak sedative. Needed to take a fight out of her," his eyes swiveled up to the right as he tried to remember. "Something or other to enhance the….experience."

Han shifted his eyes to back to Ryse. "And you sleep deprived her on sedatives," his anger was barely masked in his voice. With all those drugs in her system, it's no wonder she hadn't reacted to his presence when she entered the room. But she seemed to recognize him now.

"Enough wasting time. I've got a deadline."

Ryse nodded at Erew. The dealer opened the pack and allowed Han to examine the deck. Indeed, it was a brand new pack; the deck smelled of fresh electronics and there were no alterations to the cards. Han handed the deck back to Erew.

"We'll play one hand," Ryse stated.

Han inwardly grimaced. One hand wouldn't allow him another chance to win the princess back if he lost that first hand. "Two out of three."

"No. One hand."

Han exhaled. "One hand."

"I take it you'd prefer Corellian Gambit?"

"Of course."

"Then we're playing Empress Teta Preferred."

Han hated Empress Teta Peferred's rules. That last card drawn can easily break a winning hand. "Perfect." He smiled at Ryse.

Erew shuffled the cards three times before passing out five cards to the opponents. Han studied his cards. Definitely a challenging hand. He looked up at Ryse and noticed Leia staring at the warlord's cards. There was a slight smile on her face. Han had taught her how to play the various versions of the game when he shuttled her around on missions. She was a quick learner, and usually her political mask was as good as Han's Sabaac face. But when she was intoxicated her tells came out. Either Ryse's cards were good, or he had a bad enough hand that Leia was happy about since his losing freed her. How aware of what was going on was she?

Han betted she was more aware of the situation than anyone picked up on, otherwise Ryse would have removed her from his knee. Solo relaxed as he arranged his cards. He waited for the warlord to discard his first card. Solo then did the same, and Erew dealt their replacements. Han inconspicuously glanced at Leia's face looking for tells and played his cards accordingly. Since the bet was made before the game, they skipped the betting phase. The intensity of the game was causing Han to sweat, and he hoped his opponent didn't notice. Finally, Han was close to twenty-three points when his cards shifted on him. Expressionless, he locked in a couple of cards. He could always tell when Ryse's cards shifted because Leia's eyes fought to refocus on his hand. The corner of her mouth would twitch up or down. On his turn Han discarded another card and Erew replaced it. Ryse followed suit. Leia's face fell. Not good Han had a soft positive 19, and it was Han's call phase.

"I'm calling it," Ryse said.

It felt as if someone had sucker punched all of the air out of Han. He placed his cards down one by one, bringing a smile to Ryse's face. There was still the last card discard to come, but it'd take a miracle to beat the warlord now. He was going to lose, and that meant he lost Leia to the Empire and was indebted to Ryse for a year. Why couldn't he have a better plan for rescuing her? Maybe not going in with a plan was better than better than having one. Things seemed to work out better that way.

Then Leia's eyes fought to refocus, and Ryse pressed his lips together. Maybe he had a chance….

Ryse laid out his cards. Han frowned. Although his cards were worth less than 23 points, the warlord was still in a better position than the smuggler. Each chose a final card to discard, and Erew dealt the last replacements.

Han blinked twice, not believing his luck. His replacement card was worth four points, giving him a perfect Sabaac. He added up Ryse's cards. Twenty-two. Han's hazel eyes met Leia's whose mouth formed a small 'o'. He bit back a smile before looking at Ryse. The man sat silently, staring at his cards and stroking his goatee.

Han had miraculously won. The question now was would Ryse honor the win?

CHAPTER 2:

"It looks as if you have won," Ryse finally spoke. "Barely."

"That I did." Han wanted to do nothing more than gloat, but he knew that would lessen the odds that Ryse would let them go with the princess.

"Your legendary luck once again."

Ryse turned his attention to the princess and stroked her hair for a moment as Han held his breath and waited for the warlord to speak.

"A very close game." Ryse ran the back of his hand down Leia's face, and she grimaced and slightly squirmed as his hand slid down her neck. "If it wasn't for my cards shifting at the last moment, you would be mine.

Han wasn't sure if Ryse was talking about him or Leia.

"Great game," Han widely smile. He glanced at Luke whose blue eyes remained on Leia, the young man's brow furrowed. "It's best we get goin'. I'll just collect my winnings." He pushed his chair.

Ryse remained motionless as he glared at Han. The man had never renigged on a bet in the past. He had the reputation of being an "honorable" warlord with a strict code of his own warped idea of ethics. Han held his breath. But the stakes now were high. Would he break his own code and not honor the bet?

The warlord let go of Leia, lifted her hand to his lips, and gently kissed it. She cringed, rose on shaky feet, and Han, as casual as possible, made his way to her side. Luke followed.

"It's been fun," Han quipped, holding back his urge to gloat.

"Yes, it has." Ryse kept his eyes on the princess. "I hope you enjoyed your stay here, Princess."

Leia narrowed her eyes and pulled back her arm. Just as her hand moved toward Ryse's face, Han caught it in mid-air and pulled her against him.

The man laughed, "Feisty little thing." Then his tone darkened and all lightness left his voice, "You should have learned by now, Your Highness. Insulting me is dangerous."

Han backed up, still holding Leia against him, "I'm sure you can overlook her lapse in judgment. After all, with all those drugs in her system, she's not in her right mind." Han backpedaled as the Barbabel nearest him took a step toward him and the princess. "We appreciate your hospitality and I'd like to stay for another drink, but we've gotta go. I'm meeting my clients in two standard hours. If I don't return her in a timely fashion, I'll have another debt on my head."

Ryse nodded, "Always living on the edge. Very well, Solo. Until we meet again."

"Until we meet again," Han forced a smile. He had no intention of meeting Nevin Ryse again.

The smuggler nodded to Luke as he released Leia's hand, grabbed her arm, and led her through the door that led to the club. Still holding the hilt of his light saber, Luke followed close behind, his eyes alert watching for trouble. They hurriedly made their way through the smoky crowded room and out the front door. There was a sharp contrast between the hot, stuffy air inside Ryse's club and the cool night atmosphere. A gentle snow fell from the sky. Han took off his jacket and wrapped it around Leia's shoulders. She slipped her arms through the sleeves.

Leia, I'm so glad you're okay." Luke stepped in to hug her.

"Not now." Han stopped him. "Ryse's people might be watching." The last thing he wanted was for Ryse to know they knew the princess before the game or after. If Ryse knew for certain Han wanted Leia for himself, he would have dismissed the Sabaac game and demand more than Han could afford.

Luke looked around and nodded.

"The speeder's a block away," Solo told Leia. "I couldn't take a chance that scumbag would place a tracking device on their vehicle.

The princess walked in between Han and Luke, carefully placing one foot in front of the other before her knees buckled beneath her. Han caught her before she hit the ground and steadied her on her feet.

"Leia." Luke's voice was filled with worry, as he also reached out to her as well.

"I'll be okay," she whispered her first words, looking into Han's eyes.

"I know," he met her large brown glassy eyes, his expression one of concern yet confident. He looked around then lifted her into his arms.

Leia didn't resist. Instead, to his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath was hot against the skin of his neck, sending chills through his body. Luke touched the back of her head and she turned her face to smile at him. The tension in his shoulders relaxed a little, but his worry didn't disappear.

They reached the end of the block and turned the corner. The speeder was parked in an alley and faced the street. Han put Leia down next to the passenger side of the vehicle.

Luke opened the door, "I'll take the back." He climbed in.

Leia winced as she slid into the seat, a gesture not lost on Han. He reached over and fastened her seatbelt but not before he noticed the boot-shaped bruise peeking out from her camisole. He lifted her undergarment even further, and his lips pressed together, turning his lips white. There were burn marks and a large angry red and purple bruise on her lower rib.

"Don't," Leia whispered as she pulled her camisole back in place.

Han said nothing, for now. He closed the passenger door and climbed into the driver's seat. He pulled out his comlink, "Chewie, we got her. Have Wedge send out the message to the Empire."

Leia's brow furrowed as she looked at Han. "Message to the Empire?"

"We're sending an anonymous tip so that the Imperials go after Ryse," Luke said proudly, "telling them that Ryse is holding you captive."

"Hmm."

"If Ryse is dealing with the Imps, he'll be too busy with them to worry about us just in case he feels screwed over. Ryse may have a code he lives by, but if he feels had he'll be relentless on getting revenge.

Solo started up the speeder and pulled out of the alley, merging into the traffic.

"Everyone's going to be so relieved that your back," Luke forced cheer in his voice, trying to lighten the mood. "You were missed. I missed you."

Leia turned her head toward the back seat. "I missed you too. Thanks for rescuing me—again." Her eyes shifted from Luke to Han who stared out the windshield.

"And things went relatively well."

Leia turned her head and looked out the passenger seat. "Yes," she nodded. "Not like how things usually go."

"I knew Han would win."

"Me too," Leia agreed, but her voice betrayed her doubt.

"I'm just glad Ryse let us go. I thought he was going to dismiss the win."

"Ryse's code," Han explained. "He's never dishonored a bet in the past. And he's one of the best players of Sabaac, not used to losing. He's won a good chunk of his legal businesses in such games."

"But you're better," Luke proudly stated. "Good for us."

Han started to object; it was a close game, and even he wasn't so certain he'd win. But he decided not to reveal that to Luke. The kid seemed to need to think Han wouldn't have let him down. Luke had been on edge and distracted since Leia never returned from her rendezvous with that "rebel agent". If only Han could have convinced her to let him come along, but she had left with another pilot from the last planet where she completed her mission. Han was off on his own mission with Chewie and hadn't found out about her departure until he returned from the base and Luke told him. He wondered what happened to the pilot who never returned. Most likely, the pilot was death either because he tried to defend the princess or Ryse himself had the pilot killed. Ryse wasn't one to keep around someone who wasn't useful. Once Han found out that Leia never arrived for her meeting with the rebel on Ord Cartwell—Nevin Ryse's territory—he followed the clues that led to Leia. It was Figrya, an associate of Ryse, who grabbed Leia from the bar before her meeting. If Han found Figrya, he would have been dead by now.

Han steered the speeder through traffic, constantly changing lanes and making sharp turns. Out of the corner of his eye, he kept an eye on Leia who stared out the window.

"We're not going to the docking bay," the princess stated matter-of-factly.

"No, the Falcon isn't there. I had Chewie take off the moment we touched down just in case one of Ryse's bounty hunters decided to collect the bounty for you." And me, Han thought. "We need to lie low for a while."

She nodded once.

"We've got a hide-out," Luke interjected enthusiastically. Han glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Luke wore a smile as he kept his eyes on the back of Leia's head.

He returned his attention back to the road. The buildings outside the speeder were sparse now, and he pulled the speeder into a parking space at a public space transport station. He disengaged his seatbelt and stepped out of the speeder. Leia and Luke followed suit. Leia stared at the deserted station.

Luke gave Leia a long embrace and kissed her cheek. She returned his embrace but grimaced in pain. Han frowned. Luke didn't seem to understand the extreme torture the princess had endured at the hands of Nevin Ryse. After all, when they rescued her from the Death Star, she seemed unharmed and ready for a fight. Han knew that Vader's torture of the girl was more psychological than physical. Ever so often over the last couple of months, he caught a glimpse of the damage Vader did to her. Her eyes staring off to something only she could see, how she held her arms tight around her when she walked through the base, a look of sadness in those large brown eyes when no one was looking. He never asked her if she was okay; he knew she wasn't. But she did a good job of hiding her pain from others, including Luke.

"Come on."

Luke released Leia but strung his arm through hers as they followed Han. She rested her head on his shoulder as they crossed the deserted road. Between two narrow buildings was a covered object. Han pulled the cover off, revealing a speeder bike.

Leia lifted her head from Luke's shoulder and gave Han a quizzical look.

"Just in case they were able to place a tracker on the speeder."

Luke climbed onto the speeder and began to fiddle with the controls. Han helped Leia onto the speeder and she wrapped her arms around Luke. Han took up the back, loosely wrapping his arms around Leia and taking care of her wounds. Han had discovered that Luke had an impeccable sense of direction—even better than Chewbacca—and trusted the kid to maneuver his way through the dense woods to the camp they had set up a day before meeting with Ryse.

As Han knew he would, Luke pushed the speed of the bike while maneuvering around thin trees that were heavy with snow, leaving no trace on the snowy ground. Their camp was deep in the woods in a small clearing near a creek, maybe an hour out at a more careful speed but Luke got them there in thirty standard minutes. He parked the speeder in a cluster of trees, and they climbed off the bike one by one.

Luke then led them to their camp on the other side of the trees. It was an octagon-shape shelter, larger than one in an emergency pack, that was tall enough for at least Leia to stand up in without hitting the ceiling of the shelter. It was white and blended well in the snow. If someone were to fly a speeder over the area, it'd be hard to see. The only thing that was conspicuous was an unlit fire pit with a smoke catcher set up over it with a lean-to shelter that blocked out the wind and snow. Han watched Leia take everything in. Her face was devoid of emotion, and he wondered if she thought she was still hallucinating. With her lack of affect and docile disposition, Han imagined that she thought everything that had happened was just a hallucination. Ryse was big on hallucigans when torturing his captives. As it was it was hard to believe that his plan-unlike most of his plans—went surprisingly smooth. Of course, he knew Ryse couldn't pass up the chance to face off with Han in a Sabaac game, but that didn't mean they were out of danger just yet. They still had to make their way back to the Falcon, which was now on ? (hopefully), that would take them back to the new rebel base.

A light snow began to fall, and Leia held out her hand in front of her, studying the unique flakes that landed on her hand.

Han went to her and placed his hand on her head to give her a sense that all this was real. Leia looked up at him, her mouth slightly open. Her eyes were a bit clearer, but the drugs still hadn't worn off completely.

"Come on. Let's warm you up." He placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward the shelter. Luke followed suit.

It was definitely warmer in the shelter but not by much. Inside, there were two extreme weather sleeping bags zipped together and cold weather survival gear and backpacks stacked in the nook of one of the eight angles.

Still wearing Han's coat, Leia rubbed her arms. She then looked down at the coat and then at Han. "You must be cold."

"I'm okay."

Nevertheless she took it off and handed it to him. Not up for an argument, Han slipped the coat on. It was warm and comforting. It's warm because she was wearing it.

"Are you hungry, Leia?" Luke asked. "Thirsty?"

Leia turned her attention to the kid. "I guess I could use some water."

"I'll get it." Luke went over to the survival gear, grabbed a collapsible cup, and poured water into it from a container. He handed it to Leia.

"Thanks," she offered him a smile but didn't take a drink from the cup.

"Why don't you start up the fire and warm up some water, Luke?" Han more ordered than suggested. "Not hot. Warm."

"Sure." The young man exited the shelter, stopping to zip the opening closed.

Han stood with his hands on his hips. "Come sit over here and let me scan you."

"That's not necessary."

"Yes. It is." He gazed into her eyes. "I know Ryse."

She shifted her eyes to the ground then reluctantly moved to the sleeping bags.

"Come on," he took her hand and guided her to the floor.

Han then retrieved a scanner and sat down next to her.

"Lie down."

She gave him an exasperated look but complied. Han held the scanner over the top of her head and began to move it down her face. He hovered over her black eye.

"You have an orbital fracture. Does it hurt?"

She shook her head.

"Yeah, right." Han continued to move the scanner down her body. Her neck had angry bruises, but nothing internally was damaged. He moved down her chest, stopping over her last rib on her left side.

"Your rib is fractured. Is it hard to breathe? Does it hurt when you inhale?"

"Nothing I can't handle," she whispered.

Han put down the scanner and pulled her camisole up. She watched him while he studied her injuries. As he figured, the boot-tip shaped bruise indicated someone had kicked her with some force. His jaw tightened. He also noticed some circular burns on her stomach, created by the lit end of a death stick most likely. He sighed heavily. She pushed down her camisole and wrapped a her button-less shirt around her abdomen.

"No internal bleeding. That's good."

He picked up the scanner again and continued scanning her body.

"Stop." Leia put her hand on his when he moved below her abdomen.

Han met her large brown pleading eyes, pausing for a moment, and stopped. "Lemme scan your arms."

She nodded and Han ran the scanner over her right arm. "Looks good." He then scanned her left arm. He stopped over her tibia and ulna. "There's a hairline fracture on your tibia and your ulna. Does it hurt?"

"A little."

Han's eyebrows rose, surprised by her admission. "It's barely visible. We can just wrap it up." The fracture most likely was caused by having her arm twisted or being held in a stress position. Han's stomach twisted, but he favored her with a small smile. Stay here."

She didn't look like she could move if she wanted to now that she was in a prone position. But he waited until she acknowledge his order with an abbreviated nod. Then he exited the shelter.

"Hey, Luke." He walked over to the aspiring Jedi, "Is the water warmed?"

"Here it is." Luke handed Han a shallow basin.

"Thanks." Han took the basin. "Why don't you heat up some bantha broth and then prepare our meals?"

"How is she?"

Han pressed his lips together. "A few hairline fractures but nothing more serious."

Luke's shoulders relaxed. "That's a relief."

"Do me a favor. Don't ask her any questions about what she went through."

"I won't."

Han nodded then returned to the shelter, finding Leia where he left her. She watched his every movement. Solo put the basin down next to her and retrieved a wash cloth and bacta gel. He sat down next to her slowly unwrapped her shirt and pushed back her camisole. He put the cloth into the water and dabbed Leia's wounds. She bit her lower lip. He frowned; he didn't like hurting her. But her wounds needed to be cleaned and treated. He noticed some of the circular burns were larger and darker. Han pulled open the collar of her shirt and revealed a large dark circular burn on each side of her chest. Then he pushed back the hair on her temples, finding more burns. He forced out a breath. They had electrocuted her. He had a very strong urge to go back to Ryse's club and beat the life out of him. If they were closer and she didn't need him….Luke could take care of her….

Han shook the thought out of his head. Luke would be horrified if he knew what she endured, and Han's need to care for the girl was stronger than his desire for revenge. He cleaned those wounds then covered each one with bacta gel with his fingers. The bacta gel would heal her wounds faster and numb the pain.

"Okay, sit up for me."

He helped Leia sit up and then pulled the button-less shirt away from her shoulders. She winced as she shrugged it off the rest of the way. Han put the shirt to the side and examined her arms. There were finger-shaped bruises—angry, black, and purple, some with cuts where claws dug into her skin—that marred her arms. The area where her arm was fractured was red and bruised as well and slightly swollen. He gently washed her wounds and covered the claw marks with bacta gel. Han lifted her hand, noticing the torn skin ringing her wrists. They also restrained her. Han cleaned and bacta gelled her wrists. He retrieved some more supplies from the medi-kit. He wrapped some gauze around her wounded wrists with care. Then he took a compression bandage and wrapped that around her arm to protect the hairline fracture.

"I'm sorry, Leia, we didn't find you sooner."

"You found me. That's all that matters," she whispered.

"I need to tend to the wounds on your back."

Her eyes drifted from Han's. "I don't have any—"

"I know Ryse," Han cut her off.

She ran her bottom lip between her teeth. Then she turned her back to him. Han sighed as he lifted her camisole and revealed more wounds. He continued to lift it up, but Leia squeezed her arms close to her side.

"I gotta, Leia. You don't want to get an infection." Han exhaled when she didn't move. "I'm not lookin' for a thrill here. I'm just trying to care for you."

She sat still for a moment then lifted her arms. Han slipped the camisole over her head, and she held it against her chest to cover her breasts. She kept her head bent down. Han grimaced as he took in the sight of her back. There were slash marks in her skin, bruises, and burns. He reached for the wash cloth and wringed out the excess water before he began washing her wounds.

"Why did you wager the Falcon and a year of your life…for me?" the princess whispered.

It would have been longer than a year, knowing Ryse, Han thought. "Ryse wasn't interested in money or that reward the Empire's offerin' for you. The Falcon…they were the most valuable things I had."

Leia fell silent. Han started to rub bacta gel over her entire back.

"Why would you risk so much for me?" her voice was shaky, barely audible. "We haven't known each other for long."

Because for some mysterious reason, I care about you. "After all I went through to get you off the Death Star? I wasn't gonna let some lowlife give you back to Vader."

Leia shuddered and Han regretted bringing up the Dark Lord.

"You could have lost," she whispered.

"But I didn't," the pride in his voice rang loud, but his confidence didn't dissolve her doubts despite the fact that he had won, and the ordeal was over. Well, maybe not over, but almost over if everything went well.

She was silent for a moment. She opened her mouth then closed it before speaking, "What would you have done if you lost?"

"Blasted my way outa there as usual."

"You would have died."

Most likely, Han thought. "What's with the lack of confidence?"

"I'm just being realistic. His place was well-guarded."

Of course, Leia must have tried to escape on her own.

"Well, then I woulda had to charm my way outa there."

She let out a small laugh and Han smiled.

"After all, it works on you."

She turned her head over her shoulder. "No it doesn't," irritation seeped into her tone.

This time, Han laughed. "You keep tellin' yourself that." He gave her hair a slight, gentle tug. "All done. You can put your shirt back on."

He helped her into her camisole and then moved to sit in front of her. He pulled a thermometer out of the medi-kit. "Gotta take your temperature, make sure you don't have a fever. Open up."

Leia's face soured but she obeyed. Han slipped the thermometer under her tongue and her lips pursed around it.

"Here, lie down." Cupping the back of her head, he lowered her to the ground.

A silence settled over them until the thermometer beeped. Han pulled itout of her mouth and frowned when he studied it. "You have a fever, not too high, though. Broad range antibiotics should take care of any infection settlin' in."

Han then gazed into her eyes. Still glassy but more alert. "You still hallucinating?"

She blinked. "I don't know. I hope not."

He smiled at her and smoothed her hair out of her face. "You're not. The last effects of the drugs should be wearing off soon."

Solo pulled the Han grabbed a pack nearby. "Gotcha something."

"What?" She propped herself up on her elbows.

"In here." He pushed the pack that had the medi-kit in it towards her.

Leia's mouth formed a small 'o' as she pulled out a long-sleeve shirt. She rubbed the soft material against her cheek.

"I'm gonna check on Luke." Han turned his back on her and smiled to himself as he exited the shelter.

Han stepped into the brisk night air, walked over to Luke who was tending to their dinner, and sat beside him.

Luke stopped stirring the contents of the pot over the fire. "How's she doing?"

Han held his hands to the fire. It was amazingly warm under the lean-to shelter that protected the fire. "She'll be okay."

"Good."