Authors note: Don't you just hate it when people start stories and don't finish then? Yeah, me too! However, I got this story idea and it just wouldn't go away, so I wrote it. I am still working on the other story, and I will finish it.
Obligatory disclaimer: No, I don't own Star Wars, I'm just borrowing the characters for awhile.
The Devil You Know
A Star Wars Fan Fiction
The place was a dump; just like every other cantina or tapcaf they ever used for a meet. The floor was sticky with gods knew what, and the small, mismatched tables were marred with gouges, dents, and obscene graffiti in a dozen languages. The upholstery—and Leia thought she was using that term very generously—was worn and torn, covered with stains whose origins she didn't want to think about. There was no describing the smell of the place. On the positive side, beings of every shape, size and color milled about, which, just by their sheer variety, helped to disguise her own clandestine group. The fact that half the lights were nonfunctional didn't hurt, either. There had to be some other sort of place they could use, she thought; where they didn't have to fear either the ever-present eye of the Empire, or the possibility of catching a deadly disease—a library-data archive, perhaps, or a worship center. She'd have to suggest that to her escort; he must know places other than these filthy holes. Her eyes slid sideways to assess said escort, who at that moment was assessing the rear view of an attractive local female. He would probably suggest a brothel for their next rendezvous, she muttered to herself; Leia was sure he was as familiar with brothels as he was with cantinas.
"Something I can get for you, sweetheart?" Han asked, his scoundrel's grin firmly in place. Obviously his hearing was as good as his vision. "Maybe something a little stronger than a fizzy?" He tapped the mug resting between his hands. "I don't think the Gizers here are watered down by more than five percent. This is a class joint."
"My drink is fine, thank you, Captain Solo," she responded frostily. "I think that one of us ought to keep their wits sharp. Or, perhaps, in your case, I should say, slightly less dulled than usual by vulgar inebriation."
"Spare me your fancy speeches, your Worship. It takes a hell of a lot more than a Gizer or two to cause me any problems." He smiled proudly. "I am Corellian, you remember."
"I do remember. Fortunately, I also remember that most Corellians are fine, hardworking people."
Han placed a hand on his chest, in the vicinity of his heart. "Ah, you wound me, Princess!"
Chewbacca, whose blue eyes had been shifting back and forth, following their exchange, woofed out a laugh and said something to his friend. Leia found herself wishing that she understood shyriiwook. Whatever the Wookiee had said seemed to irritate Han, and that was good enough for her. The man was positively insufferable!
"Your contact is late," the smuggler observed. "Maybe you've been stood up."
Leia glanced down at her chrono; it was later than she realized. Their contact was late. Even worse, "Luke is late," she said, her voice tense. Today was not going the way she'd expected it to.
As she thought about it, Leia wasn't sure exactly how it was that she came to be sitting here with Han Solo and Chewbacca, waiting to meet with the representative of the new rebel cell on this planet. Her original plan was to bring Luke with her to meet their contact, and have Han and Chewie search out the best source—meaning the cheapest source—of parts they needed to keep the Alliance x-wings in working order. Certainly, that's where the smuggler's skills lay, getting hard to obtain items as quickly and as cheaply as possible. However, by the end of the discussion, Luke was eagerly awaiting the chance to display his bargaining skills, and Han was accompanying the Princess to meet with the local leader. It still amazed her how cleverly the captain had maneuvered them all. He probably just wanted an excuse to sit around and drink Gizers, she decided.
"Ah, the kid is probably just lost." Han's voice intruded on her thoughts "This city makes Mos Eisley look like a nerf ranch." Despite his light words, Leia noted Han checking his own chrono, then glancing toward the door.
Chewbacca groaned something that sounded concerned.
"Hey, don't get your fur ruffled, I'm sure he'll be along any minute. Traffic's probably bad, that's all." Han stole a look at the Princess, who, in turn, was staring at the cantina entrance. Luke's tardiness was unlike him. If Leia's willpower alone could summon him, Luke Skywalker would have walked in the door at just that moment. Han tossed back the rest of his ale, stretched hugely, and stood up. "I'm just going to get myself another Gizer," he announced. "Something I can bring back for either of you?" He looked pointedly at the half-finished drink in front of Leia
Chewie answered in the negative; Leia only graced him with a scathing look. He's just trying to bait me, she reminded herself.
The princess found herself watching Han's progress toward the bar with a combination of irritation and fascination. His loose-limbed swagger seemed designed to broadcast extreme disinterest in his surroundings, but Leia noted that his eyes peered out the front of the cantina to the street beyond as he walked, and his gun hand was never too far from the butt of his blaster. Was he worried about Luke, worried about the possibility that the absence of their contact meant an Imperial trap, or really disinterested in it all? Leia was sure she would never figure him out, and she really couldn't figure out why she cared.
Suddenly, it seemed that she wouldn't get the chance to solve that puzzle. Leia bolted halfway out of her seat, her holdout blaster drawn, when Han was hit broadside by a figure wearing a nondescript khaki jumpsuit, knocking him off-balance. Towering next to her, Chewie growled low in his throat and raised his bowcaster. Hells, it was a trap after all!
"Solo!" the figure shouted, in a surprising, sweet soprano, "how the kriff are you?" She, the would-be attacker, Leia saw, was definitely female, planted a very wet kiss on Han's mouth, even as she helped him regain his footing. After the first shock wore off, Han responded enthusiastically with a kiss of his own. Chewie howled a companionable greeting in the direction of the woman, and waved a furry arm. It appeared that, whoever this was, she was a friend, not a foe. Gods, Leia wished she understood Wookiee-speak, she thought again. The Wookiee seemed to be the only one able to explain anything to her, since Solo and the woman appeared to be glued together at the lips!
"Hey, Chewie, you can put that away, I promise not to break him!" the woman suggested jovially, indicating the bowcaster. Chewbacca lowered his weapon, then lumbered over and gave the newcomer a bone-cracking hug. She responded by grabbing the Wookiee firmly by his facial hair and giving him a kiss firmly on the lips. Leia swore that if it were physically possible, the Wookiee would be blushing.
By this time, every set of eyes in the place was focused on Han, Chewie, and the whoever-it-was woman. Scanning the cantina patrons, Leia realized that even if their rebel contact had shown up, he certainly would be making a hasty retreat after Han and that woman's outrageous performance. Leave it to Han, his oversized ego, and his collection of unsavory friends, to foul things up, Leia thought angrily. She sank back down onto her seat with a huff.
His arm wrapped intimately around her waist, Han guided the blonde toward their booth; masses of golden yellow waves poured over her shoulders and down her back almost to her waist. The woman was tall—as tall as Han, Leia noted—with a figure that strained the seams of her pilot's jumpsuit both fore and aft. It made her own petite frame seem childlike, Leia thought uncomfortably. The woman's teeth were a brilliant white, set in a smile as proportionately broad as, well, as other parts of her anatomy were broad. She dropped gracefully into the booth, and pressed herself against Solo in what was obviously old habit. They fit very well together.
"Hello," she said, "my name is Kaat'allyn," she grinned. "Officially, it's Captain Kaat'allyn Meeyrem, of the freighter Starlight Rising." Extending a long fingered hand, she asked, "And you are?"
Leia would dearly have loved to use every one of her formal, royal, Alderaani titles in order to put a pinprick in this woman's annoying self-assurance, but she knew the risk wasn't worth the pleasure she would get from watching Captain Meeyerem's ego deflate. Instead, she touched her fingers to the outstretched hand with every ounce of royal hauteur she could muster and said, simply, "I'm Leia."
"Pleased to meet any friend of Solo's." Kaat'allyn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she, in turn, took the Princess' hand firmly in hers.
"Kat and I hauled freight together in the Corporate Sector," Han explained.
Kat. Of course he would call her Kat.
"Freight's not all we hauled, honey." Smiling, she planted another kiss on Han's mouth, which he'd obligingly left open for her.
Leia felt the slow burn of fury begin in the pit of her stomach. How dare this, this, woman, flaunt her very private relationship with Han in front of her—in front of the whole cantina—she corrected quickly? And how could Han just sit there with that bemused look on his face and let her? With a quick, sidelong glance in Leia's direction, he reached over to squeeze Kat's shoulder, a sly smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. Oh, he was enjoying this, Leia fumed!
A rattling tinkle drew Leia's attention away from Han and his appalling behavior; Chewie had bought a round of drinks for the table. He placed Gizers in front of Han and his own place, and produced an Attarr brandy for Kat. Leia looked down at the fizzy he'd given her, and found herself wishing she was drinking something a little more sophisticated. Though why that should suddenly matter to her, she had no idea. She looked down at her chrono again, belatedly remembering her concern for Luke, then renewed her watch of the cantina doorway. She didn't notice that Han did so, as well.
"I see you never got rid of the scar," Kat observed. One finger caressed the ragged white line on Solo's chin, and drew his attention fully back to the blonde's face.
He shrugged and pulled Kat's hand away from his face, gently kissing her palm before he guided the hand back down to the table top. "It's distinctive," he explained "and it's a great conversation starter." The lopsided smile appeared. "You know, for when the ladies can't come up with another reason to make their moves on me." He leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head, still grinning.
Kat laughed, a musical sound. "Solo, only you would consider a scar from a knife fight as female bait!"
A knife fight? Leia's gaze wandered away from the doorway and back to the smuggler's face. She'd seen the mark so many times she didn't even notice it any more. Well, hardly ever, not really. She'd never thought to ask him how he'd gotten it, she'd just assumed, well, she didn't know what she'd assumed. But a knife fight? If the slash had been a little higher, it might have taken out an eye. A little lower—a little lower and it would have cut his throat. She found herself wondering how many other scars he had on his body. And, Force, why was she thinking about that? She focused on the entranceway once again. She really wished Luke would get here; she understood Luke.
A sudden, warning growl, low in Chewbacca's throat brought Han's hands down from his head. One hand landed casually on the table, while the other dropped to the seat, directly next to his blaster. All thoughts of scars flew from Leia's mind as she saw, not Luke, not even their tardy contact, but an Imperial officer, accompanied by a stormtrooper, walking into the cantina. Her day had just made the jump from merely bad to completely horrible.
"I see him, Chewie," Han said quietly.
Kat turned her head just enough to see the two Imperials. "Not friends of yours, I take it?"
"Not exactly."
Leia picked up her glass and tipped it to her lips, hoping to hide at least a part of her face. Of the four of them, her face might not be the most eye-catching—she figured Chewie held that honor—but she was certainly the most wanted. If that officer identified her, they were all in trouble. Leia couldn't wish that on anyone, even Kat.
"So, what's your play, Solo?" Kat asked. His eyebrows drew together as he looked at the bar.
Leia watched Han as he watched the Imperials, ready to make her move when he made his. But the Imperials just stood there; the stormtrooper standing at attention while the officer spoke to the bartender. Leia held her breath, waiting for the bartender to point them out. Instead, he turned, pulled a glass off a shelf and filled it with a virulent green liquid. He handed it to the officer, who shut his eyes and took a large gulp. Well, that was a relief! Leia let out her breath with a whoosh; there might be a chance to get out of this yet. She could only hope.
"We need to get Leia, er, we need to get out of here," Han answered Kat, getting to his feet. His eyes darted around the cantina, checking for safe exits. "I'll draw his attention, Chewie, you take Leia…"
"But," Leia interrupted, "not…" She was standing, too.
"Not without finding out where the kriff Luke is. I know." Han's mouth was a thin line.
"No! Not while…"
"Sith! Solo? Is that you?"
Leia clamped her mouth shut, the words you get shot at left unsaid. They all froze; Chewie moaned rather desperately. The Imperial officer, a lieutenant, Leia was pretty sure, was heading directly for their table, his eyes focused on Han's face with laser-like sharpness. Han's eyes wheeled around the cantina, looking for some way out of what had suddenly become an impossible situation.
"Well, you wanted to distract him," Kat mumbled. She placed her hand in the middle of Han's back and shoved. Hard. As he stumbled forward, she said loudly, "Solo! Go say hello to your friend. We'll just stay here, out of your way, and have a little girl talk. Don't you worry about us." She grabbed Leia by the arm and pulled her back into a seat, this time facing away from the door, and away from the lieutenant. "Chewie," she breathed, "find someplace to look small and insignificant." Hurriedly, the Wookiee wedged himself into a small nook against the wall. He seemed to be holding his breath.
"You just turned Han over to the Imperials?" Leia hissed, struggling against Kat's grip on her arm. Stang, the woman was strong!
"Shhh!" Kat warned, "It's not like that. They know each other." The woman actually grinned! "You know, old friends. Just listen."
With Kat's arm draped companionably across her shoulders, all Leia could do was listen; especially since the blonde woman's grip was as solid as a durasteel band.
"Nehi! Wow, I never thought I'd see you again," she heard Han say loudly. "How long's it been? Are you stationed here?"
"No," Lieutenant Nehi said. "There are some rumors about a kriffing Rebel cell here." Leia's heart thudded in her chest. "My group got sent to check it out," he paused for a drink, "but we haven't found anything. Kriffing nuisance! Can you believe these Hutt-spawn rebels?"
"I don't know what they're thinking," Han agreed. "Only a fool would try to take down the glorious Empire!"
Leia's muscles were knotted so tightly she could barely breathe. Han? The Empire? He couldn't be…
"Here, you look like you could use this more than me." Kat shoved her half-finished brandy across the table to Leia.
"They know each other?" Leia looked down at the glass, then shoved it to one side. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; Han Solo chatting amiably with an Imperial naval officer! The whole situation was beyond understanding. He might be many things—most of which Leia didn't approve of—but Han was not a double agent, she was sure of that. Hells, he wasn't even a single agent! As he was so fond of pointing out, the only person Han Solo looked out for was Han Solo.
"How is it that Captain Solo is friends with an Imperial lieutenant?" Leia asked tersely, hiding her confusion. She hoped she was hiding it, anyway.
Kat's face took on an almost maternal appearance. "Young men have big dreams," she said. "Solo worked hard to get into the Academy. Did well, graduated, was commissioned as an officer. Didn't last too long though; there were some orders he just wouldn't follow, so they threw him out."
"That sounds like Han."
"Don't be so quick to judge, Princess," Kat's voice was deadly serious now. "Yeah, he disagreed with a superior officer; he actually assaulted him, though I don't think they included that in the charges when they cashiered him."
"Han Solo—act first, think later." Leia's voice dripped sarcasm.
"Yeah, well that officer was going to blast a Wookiee slave worker into the next galaxy; Han had to act fast."
"Chewie?" Leia sucked in her breath. Her eyes flew to where the Wookiee stood hiding. Chewbacca's blue eyes stared back. So, now do you understand they seemed to say. No! Right now she didn't know if she understood anything. Unable to help herself, she looked over at the bar. Han's hazel eyes met hers and signaled her to turn back around. She did. She heard yet another jovial laugh and backslap. She wondered if anyone else could hear the strain in Han's voice, the false cheer. At least he hadn't been arrested yet, she thought with relief. And wasn't it amazing how just a few words could change—well, certainly not everything—but maybe the occasional point of view?
Wait a minute! Just a few words…
"Princess?" Leia turned to Kat, horror-struck. "Did you just call me Princess?" She hadn't used her title, no one had! How did…? If this woman knew who she was, she could be part of the trap! Using an old, uh, flame, would be something the Empire would do.
"Oh, sweetheart! Did you think I didn't know who you were? That's so cute!" It was oddly disturbing that Kat used the term 'sweetheart' just like Han did.
"You know who I am?" Leia jerked her head toward the bar. "Are you part of this?" Her ears were still straining to hear Han, though now it seemed the two men had lowered their voices to a more reasonable pitch. Chewie risked a quick look at his friend, then nodded reassuringly to her. Apparently Han was still managing the situation.
Kat's eyes turned hard. "There's no need to be insulting," she said flatly. "I may do a lot of things, but turning on a friend isn't one of them!" Several heads turned in their direction, Kat took a deep breath and continued in a lower voice. "Of course I know who you are," she continued. "I've seen your holo on Imperial wanted vids. Don't worry, I'm not gonna turn you in, either. Just let me explain." She cleared her throat. "Han Solo's not exactly unknown in, uh, certain circles," Kat said. "So when he just disappeared, I started to wonder. I really didn't think he was hiding from Jabba, that's not his style—Solo doesn't hide from anything—so there had to be another reason. Then I heard he was helping out the Rebellion, and that didn't sound like the Solo I know and love, either." Leia felt her jaw muscles tighten, just for a second, at the word love. Kat's eyes narrowed again, before they opened up wide and innocent. "Well," she continued "I was kinda hoping I'd run into him. So I could see for myself. And now I see." Kat smiled an understanding smile.
"See what?" Why couldn't this woman just answer a question?
"Leia, we're both women, let's be frank." Kat laid her hand next to Leia's on the table. "Han Solo is an attractive man, lots of women would be happy to have him." Leia stared dumbly at the other woman; what was she talking about? "Believe me, he kept me happy the whole time we were together." Leia goggled. Did this smuggler think she had a romantic interest in Han Solo? Was she crazy? "But," Kat continued, "he's a man who pretty much does what he wants. It looks like he wants to stay right where he is for now. You don't have to worry about me." Again the maternal smile. "I'll be heading out soon."
Blindly, Leia reached for the half-finished glass of brandy; she needed something strong after hearing Kat's unbelievable conjectures. She gulped half of it down, choking as the liquor burned her throat. As tears streamed down her face, she collected her scattered wits.
"Captain Solo has been a great help to the Rebellion," Leia croaked, then cleared her throat. "Our continued relationship is nothing more than that." There, that sounded reasonable, Leia thought.
"Then why hasn't he gone back to pay Jabba?"
"I'm afraid only the captain can answer that."
"Uh, huh" Kat just sat there, smiling.
"Who's Jabba?" Leia asked into what was fast becoming a very uncomfortable silence.
"A Hutt. One of the more successful ones, as far as that goes. Han used to run for him, 'til he had to dump a load. Jabba wasn't happy about that. When Solo couldn't pay him for the lost shipment, Jabba was less happy, put a bounty on him. Then when he blasted off of Tatooine and disappeared, the bounty just got bigger."
The Hutts were a vicious, self-indulgent species; everyone knew that. Leia had never actually encountered one, but she'd heard stories—nasty stories. If Han was in debt to this Jabba creature, he really needed to pay him off. Suddenly, their conversation on board the Falcon, right after the escape from the Death Star, took on a whole different meaning. Perhaps Han wasn't the mercenary she'd accused him of being; he needed that money to clear his debt and get the price off his head. But months had gone by, her brain continued, and he was still here. Why? she wondered. She risked another look over her shoulder.
"I think our boy's okay," Kat reassured her, "they're down to serious drinking." She smiled thoughtfully. "You know, he was only in the Navy for maybe eight months before they threw him out, who'd have thought he'd run into an officer who actually remembered him?"
"He never told me any of this," Leia said to Kat. "I wonder why."
"I don't know, maybe it's the whole 'you're one of the heads of the Rebel Alliance' and 'he's a former Imperial Naval officer' thing," Kat suggested.
"But it explains so much," Leia argued. She really wanted to turn around again.
"Maybe he wants you to figure some things out for yourself."
"He told you everything." Leia looked at the other woman. She couldn't hate her, now that they'd had a chance to talk. She couldn't even dislike her, really. But she did envy her. Her confidence, her closeness with Han. And the fact that she was even having these thoughts surprised her.
Kat took her hand. "Of course he told me things. We're together." She stopped and corrected herself, enunciating carefully. "We were together, for a while." She smiled. "Sweetheart, I'm a smuggler, he's a smuggler. That kinda stuff is important between smugglers. You know, it increases your value."
Leia obviously didn't understand at all. Kat tried again. "He wasn't gonna stay around very long, so he had to impress me quick." Kat looked over her shoulder; the Imperials were leaving. The lieutenant appeared to be issuing orders into his comlink. Kat hurried on. "Han doesn't normally stay anywhere very long. But I think he might now. You never can tell." She checked the bar one more time; the Imperials were gone. She waved cheerily at Han; he smiled in reply.
Chewbacca came out of hiding with a long, complaining moan as Han returned and dropped heavily onto the seat.
"Yeah, I know," Han answered him, rubbing his forehead as if it ached, "that was the last person I expected to run into here, too."
"You certainly have an interesting set of friends," Leia observed.
"I get around." Han looked at Leia, then Kat, trying to determine how much he could say.
"She knows who I am," Leia told him. "Apparently she watches The Emperor's Most Wanted."
Kat's responding grin apparently reassured Han, so he continued.
"I found out what the Imps are doing here," he explained. "And I kept him away from you, your Wor-, um, Leia." Kat's eyes crinkled at Han's stutter. "Nehi would have loved to bring you in," he continued. "it's certainly the only way he'll ever get a promotion."
"I can take care of myself, Captain Solo"
"Sure you can, sweetheart!"
Chewie moaned and growled a question.
"Well, yeah, okay." Han recollected himself. "My old friend Nehi says there's rumors of a new rebel cell here."
"That's not good," Leia observed soberly.
"No, but the good news is that Nehi is in charge of finding it."
"That's good news?"
"Yeah. I've met rocks with more brains the Nehi. Certainly rocks have more initiative." He rolled his eyes. "He's already done some looking, in all the wrong places." Han's grin reappeared. "I just gave him some suggestions on where else he should check. Really bad suggestions." He looked around. "Now if the kid and your cell leader would just get here, we could finish this up and go home!"
Kat poked Han in the shoulder. "They the one's you're looking for?" She tipped her head to the side, indicating two new arrivals. One was a small man with a bald head and wispy mustache, who strongly resembled a Corellian skipmunk, the other was…
"Luke!" A brilliant smile lit Leia's features, her relief evident; Han's face was a study in contradictions. He was obviously relieved to see the younger man, and equally irritated that the princess seemed so happy. Kat found the whole thing amusing. She shot a quick glance at Chewbacca, whose blue eyes twinkled back.
Luke threaded his way confidently through the crowded bar while the bald man hesitated at the entrance. Leia signaled for Luke to go back and get him.
"Well, I guess this is my cue to leave," Kat said. She rose from her seat ans planted another wet kiss on Han's mouth, then she hugged Chewbacca, and offered her hand to Leia. "It was great to meet you, Leia," she smiled, "and it was great to have our little talk."
Han's gaze drifted curiously between the two women; Leia avoided the look, focusing instead on Luke and her contact. Han shrugged and turned to Kat.
"Clear skies, Kat," he said.
"Clear skies!" Kat started toward the exit, but paused, turning back to Han. "Stay safe, Solo," she added solemnly.
"I always do."
"Yeah, I know, but you're navigating a different route, now, you know. Virgin territory." She looked at him for a minute, then smiled. "Just do it!" she admonished. She left the cantina without another word.
Chewie watched Kat leave, looking as confused as Han. With a rumble, he asked Han if Kat ever talked like that before.
"Nope, never." He looked at Leia. "What'd you do, your Worship, try to recruit her?" He took a gulp of his Gizer. "That's as hopeless as trying to recruit me."
"You needn't worry, Captain," Leia said, "I've long since given up trying to get you to do something you don't want to."
Chewie's furry eyebrows soared as he looked between Han and the princess. The smuggler looked carefully away from his table mates. Chewie laughed softly—score one for the princess!
At that moment, Luke appeared at the table, towing the rodent-like little man with him. Luke dropped into the seat vacated by Kat, and heaved a sigh. The bald man made to bow over Leia's hand, but she quickly snatched it away.
"But, your highness, I only want…"
"Not here," Han hissed. "We don't want to attract the attention of everyone in the bar. Didn't anyone tell you that when you're a rebel you're supposed to keep a low profile?"
After the performance he and Kat had put on, Leia thought that Han really shouldn't talk. She opted not to mention it—at least not in front of the cell leader.
"I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Master Silern," Leia greeted him. "We were starting to be concerned that you'd encountered some difficulty."
"Yeah, kid," Han added, "what took you so long?"
"Luke, I was starting to…" Leia began.
"…think you skipped town," Han finished. Leia glared at him.
"I met Master Skywalker at the blockade the Imperials set up at the south end of the market. They know there's a rebel presence here, I'm afraid."
"We just found that out ourselves," the princess confirmed.
"What were you doin' way out there, kid? I thought you were supposed to be at the north end, near the spaceport."
"I got lost," Luke admitted. "This is a big town, and none of the streets follow any sensible pattern." Han smiled triumphantly at the princess. "But you were right," Luke continued proudly. "I told the parts dealer exactly what you said, about how I would report him if he didn't…"
Han clapped Luke on the back, effectively halting the description of his bargaining technique. "That's great, kid! I knew you could do it."
"How were you able to get past the security blockade?" Leia asked.
"It was the strangest thing," Master Silern said. "While we were waiting to go through, the trooper in charge obviously received new orders." Silern looked honestly dumbfounded. "I heard him say they were to pick up and move out to Sed Soime. An informant had told their commander that the cell was based there."
"And is it?" Leia prompted.
"No. Sed Soime is an agricultural hub, half a planet away from here. I'm sorry to say that the beings who are based there don't care who runs the government, so long as they make a tidy profit from the sale of their crops." The little man seemed embarrassed by this. "I can't imagine why this squad thinks there are any rebels there." He offered the Princess an obsequious smile. "However, I do believe we'll have no more problems here in the city."
Han made a self-congratulatory noise as he drank his ale; Chewbacca chuffed appreciatively.
"Well, Master Silern, I'm glad we've had a chance to meet." Leia studiously ignored Han and Chewie. "We'll provide you with any aid we can."
Hands were shaken, promises were made. Master Silern left, confident he had the support of the Rebel Alliance and Leia was sure they had another group willing to help with her cause.
Han leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head once again, a smug grin plastered across his face. "See, your Worship," he crowed, "I told you I'd arrange everything for you."
"You said no such thing!" she objected. "It was just a series of lucky events!"
"It was skill, sweetheart. There's no such thing as luck." Han turned to Luke and grinned. "Is old Mimfee going to get those parts delivered to the Falcon?" he asked. Luke nodded. Han glanced at his chrono again. "We'd better get back there. We shouldn't have any trouble, sounds like the coast is clear." He stood up, his smile all innocence now. "You'd better pay our tab, Princess. We don't want the locals to think we welch on our debts." Taking Luke by the arm, he steered him out the door, Chewie following in their wake.
Leia threw a few credits on the table and stalked out after them. Squinting in the daylight, she saw Luke and Han some distance away. The arrogant man hadn't even waited for her! At the sound of a sharp Wookiee bark, Leia turned to see Chewbacca standing just to her right, obviously waiting for her.
"Thanks, Chewie," she said, as he offered her his shaggy arm. She reached up to take it, smiling. "At least you're a gentleman!" He chuffed a short laugh. Then, as they trailed after the two men, the Wookiee indicated Han and groaned something—well, something. Leia had no idea what he was saying, but Chewbacca's eyes seemed to express a mixture of fondness and exasperation for his friend.
"If you're trying to tell me that he's the most irritating man in the known universe, I already figured that out for myself," she told him.
This elicited another short laugh, followed by a negative head shake and another lengthy monologue from Chewie.
"Hey!" Han turned around to look at his co-pilot. "Keep saying stuff like that and you'll find yourself looking for another job, fuzz ball!" Chewbacca just laughed louder, while Leia exchanged a blank look with Luke. One of them had to learn shyriiwook!
There was no more Wookiee commentary on the way back to the Millennium Falcon. Leia walked comfortably with Chewbacca, knowing that he would protect her from any threat, real or perceived; he was that kind of friend. Odd, she thought, that even in the short period of time she'd known him, she considered Chewie a friend—just like she considered Luke a friend.
And Captain Han Solo? That was a trickier question. He was insolent, arrogant, egotistical, insufferable. His blatant disregard of most every convention of command, and common civility, drove Leia to use more bad language than an entire cadre of etiquette teachers would ever tolerate. She had been prepared to hate him and his illicit, mercenary ways from the moment she met him. But she didn't; she couldn't. Somehow, he kept surprising her. She would get a glimpse, every once in a while, of another man: honest, loyal to his friends, willing to commit to something beside his own interests. She was trained in diplomacy; she knew sometimes you just had to sit and wait it out. So, she'd wait.
Besides, his pants fit great.
Wait a minute, Leia thought, where did that come from?