So......yeah, sorry I've been M.I.A. Here's a peace offering. And I'm behind on replies, too, but I will slowly get back to them, I swear! Here's a blanket THANK YOU for reading for now!!!
Also, the names Leia uses for her parents are the Turkish words for mother and father, but I changed the spelling for Anne (mother) to Anae to be a little more phonetical. (In case you're wondering, it's pronounced Ah-nay for mother and Bah-Bah for father.)
--
Chapter Two: In which Lieutenant Han Solo is introduced to Senator-Princess Leia Organa...
--
"Tonight I'll dream while I'm in bed; When silly thoughts go through my head; About the bugs and alphabet; And when I wake in the morning, I'll bet; That you and I will walk together again; Because I can tell that we are gonna be friends; I can tell that we are gonna be friends..."
The White Stripes, "We Are Going To Be Friends"
--
The Senatorial Apartments of Leia Organa
Coruscant
--
Senator-Princess Leia Organa liked the early mornings on Coruscant best. The lavender light of dawn was peaceful, quiet, and she felt as though she had the teeming planet-wide metropolis to herself. The mornings let her meditate on the challenges that lay ahead of her, let her absentmindedly run kilometer after kilometer on her treadmill while watching the sun rise over the horizon through the panoramic transparisteel windows in her gym. Sunsets here were nothing; the smog from billions of speeders and ships created a haze in the evenings that dulled the golds and reds of the day's end. The sunsets on Coruscant would never, could never compare to the brilliant sunsets on Alderaan, but the mornings...the mornings were a time of beauty that Leia considered all her own.
Three days after the assassination attempt at the Correspondent's Ball, her life, as she viewed it anyway, was back to normal. She thought little of the attempt--it was not the first time in her nineteen years that she had been shot at; being the daughter of a secret Rebel leader and a freedom fighter herself meant that she had seen her share of battles. Leia had for many years known how to react under fire, especially under a suspiciously public attempt where it was almost blatantly apparent the shooter was not aiming for her. Though the attempt had rattled her fellow senators and her father, she was mostly unaffected, and had resumed her usual seat in the Senate Chambers the very next day.
The attempt, however, was far from her relaxed mind this morning as she quietly took off her running shoes and padded downstairs in search of a post-workout breakfast before her aide and longtime friend, Winter Retrac, debriefed her on her day's schedule. Leia was looking forward to making herself a fruit shake with a puffed grain cake and nut butter. Though her Coruscanti apartments were large, inherited from her father and richly decorated by her appearance-conscious aunts, and she had the room, she had very few live-in staff members. Bail Organa had taught her from a young age that she should not ask someone to perform the household tasks of which she was perfectly capable of doing herself. The galaxy had always found it bizarre that the Princess of Alderaan cleaned her own room and made her own casual meals, but Bail's foresight allowed her to stay grounded and trained her for the time she had spent on remote and less-than-luxurious Rebel bases.
Leia rounded the corner to the elegant front sitting room on her way to the kitchen as she did every morning, but nearly tripped over herself, startled, as she registered the form of a handsome young man in naval uniform, sprawled almost flippantly in an overstuffed cream colored repulsor couch that sat across from the holoviewer. Next to him, frozen as though he were in the middle of a long-winded lecture, stood the powered down golden protocol droid given to her by her father. Well, given to her was probably a bit of an overstatement. It was more like a pawning off. The droid, designated C-3PO, had a very distinct personality, and it was an annoying one at that. Bail had claimed the droid would be useful to her. "You're only fluent in twenty languages, Lelila," he'd said. "More than two thousand are spoken on Coruscant. You might need a translator."
Right, she thought. A translator. She was hardly surprised that the handsome stranger had thought about finding Threepio's deactivation switch, but she was almost amused that he actually had turned him off. Seemingly satisfied with her mild shock and smug in the droidless peace, the naval officer gave her a sideways grin, and she was torn between sounding the alarm and swooning at the stranger's roguish good looks. She settled instead on crossing her arms over her chest and regarding him with a stern look.
"That's breaking and entering."
The intruder's crooked smile shifted into a delighted smirk at her first words and he stood up to greet her.
"It is not," he countered smugly. "Your droid let me in."
Leia fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Forgive me, then. I forgot that when it involves overpowering a droid, it's polite breaking and entering."
He chuckled at that, a warm, resonating baritone that she found to be annoyingly seductive.
"It's not breaking and entering if you know the lift codes."
"Fine." She moved her hand behind Threepio's neck and reactivated the poor droid. "Then tell me who I need to fire for giving you access to them."
Threepio's opticals lit up as he slowly powered on, and the stranger regarded Leia with almost mournful green eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, Princess," he whined, gesturing to the droid. "Why'd you have to go and do that?"
"So I can tell him to escort you out," she muttered, but was cut off as Threepio came back online and began waving his arms frantically.
"You don't have an appointment, sir, and I cannot allow you--oh, Mistress Leia!" He looked between the princess and the stranger. "This gentleman does not have an appointment, Your Highness. I told him--"
Leia held up a hand, dismissing the droid, but her eyes never left Han's.
"Thank you, Threepio, you're absolutely right. He does not have an appointment. I'll see to it from here. You may go."
The handsome stranger grinned and took a step towards her as the confused droid did a double take and then left the room, and Leia noticed the red bloodstripes running down his gray fitted pants. He was Corellian, then, if her memory served her correctly, and must have been quite a hero. Red stripes were first class, and the men awarded with them were almost never alive to receive the honor. She might have been impressed, if only he hadn't been standing in her home, irreverent and unannounced.
He opened his mouth, no doubt to spout off some sarcastic comment, but he was interrupted by Winter's sudden and graceful appearance in the parlor, carrying a pink box from a nearby patisserie. As if Leia's aide's presence only served to prove his point, the man gestured to her with one long arm.
"Maybe you should think about who has access to your lift."
Leia's eyes narrowed dangerously and gestured to Winter as well.
"She is a trusted member of my staff. She lives here."
"She doesn't have the third floor balcony bedroom, does she?" he asked. "I was hoping to get that one."
"Your Highness?" Winter began tentatively, but Leia, incensed by this stranger's behavior, was already speaking.
"Excuse me? Who exactly do you think you are?" she demanded, the blood rising in her cheeks. "You think you can just walk in here--"
"Your Highness." Winter said again, louder this time, but was overruled once more as the stranger, suddenly tired of this battle of wits, pointed a finger in Leia's direction and took another step forward.
"'Who exactly do you think you are?'" he mocked. "Well that's amazingly proper royal behavior. Some princess you're turning--"
"Your Highness!" Winter shouted, coming to stand between the naval officer and the irate princess. Two sets of eyes fixed warningly on her, and Leia's white-haired aide seized on the attention she had finally commanded. "I was just on my way to let you know. This," she waved her free hand at the man, "is Lieutenant Han Solo."
Han smirked at Leia, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"In light of the events a few days ago," Winter continued, "the Senate felt that additional guard would be prudent and Lieutenant Solo has been assigned to protect you until such time when the investigation concerning the attempt on your life has concluded."
Leia's eyes flew to Winter, shocked.
"That's ridiculous!" she protested. "I already have a guard! My father hired him yesterday."
"Lot of good he did you when I got here." Han muttered under his breath.
"He was up all night keeping watch," Leia snapped. "I told him to take a nap."
She advanced a step, and Winter retreated from her position between the lieutenant and the princess, whispering something about setting out breakfast before swiftly and silently disappearing from the parlor. Neither lieutenant nor princess seemed to notice, and they continued their verbal sparring as though Winter were never there.
"That wasn't very smart, Your Worship," Han informed the petite princess arrogantly. "What if something happened to you while he was napping?"
"I hardly think anyone would be stupid enough to try something with the morning rush right outside my window," she retorted.
Han shrugged.
"Morning rush would be the perfect time to try something. No one's paying any attention to what's happening in Princess Leia's apartment because they've all got their noses to the steering yokes."
Leia planted her hands on her hips glared angrily at the lieutenant.
"I have the best security system on all of Coruscant. It's impossible to disarm without the proper codes."
"A fancy security system is about as good as bantha fodder when someone wants you dead, Sweetheart. People talk. I'm pretty sure the guy who installed your system would sing me the codes if I put a blaster to his neck."
"Oh, well it seems you have it all figured out then, Lieutenant. Are you sure you're not here to kill me? You seem to have my assassination planned out so perfectly."
He grinned seductively and took another step forward.
"I might. 'Cept I don't think they'd be too happy with me back at Carida. It's in my best interests to keep you alive."
"Why you stuck up--" she threw her hands in the air, at a loss for insults, exasperated. "I'd rather be shot! You're not an officer, you're a mercenary!"
"Now look, sister--"
"You will not speak to me in that manner. If you're my guard, you're then a member of my staff and you will address me as such."
That got the lieutenant angry. He advanced another step, putting them just inches apart, and drew himself to his full height so she had to tilt her head almost backwards to meet his eyes.
"Hey, Your Worship," he growled, pointing a finger at her. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm here for your safety, and that means that you're going to be taking orders from me, not the other way around!"
Leia's inner two year-old made her suddenly want to push this arrogant stranger down, and the only thing that stopped her was the fact that he appeared to be rather solid, so her shove would probably have little effect. She settled for more yelling.
"If you think for one second that I'm going to be taking orders from you--"
"If you want to live, that's exactly what you'll be doing," he interrupted, yelling over her.
It was then that Leia noticed that, though Winter seemed thoroughly disinterested in the battle, the din of their argument had attracted several other members of her staff. Threepio had returned, and was now standing in the threshold beside her other droid, more useful and much less annoying, a domed astromech unit designated R2-D2. They were watching the sparring intently, and Artoo was chattering in chirps and whistles as though he were commenting on every heated retort the princess and the lieutenant spouted.
The argument also attracted, to Leia's delight, the attention of the newest member of her staff, a hulking Wookiee named Chewbacca that her father had sent from Alderaan the day before. Though she had trouble understanding him, the Wookiee was a friend of the Organas and a secret Rebel, and Bail had asked him to serve as Leia's guard and protector after the failed assassination attempt. He was fairly good-natured, but he stood out as menacing, especially on lily-white, xenophobic Coruscant, and he had the unique capability of suitably terrifying anyone with whom she cared not to associate.
Smirking, secure in the knowledge that Chewie would satisfactorily scare Han witless, Leia turned back to the cocky lieutenant invading her apartment, but her jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she realized the expression on Han's face wasn't the terror she'd expected. Instead of fear, she saw surprise and respect painted on his handsome features, and he crossed the room, right hand extended, and shook the Wookiee's massive paw firmly.
"Good to see you're up and about."
Chewie responded with a quick series of barks and growls in Shriiwook that Leia's neophyte grasp on the language had no hope of translating, but the words seemed to make Han almost blush.
"It was nothing," he said with a shrug.
Finally, Leia had the presence of mind to click her jaw shut, but she was still gazing at the lieutenant rather stupidly.
"You know him?"
Han turned back to her and raised an eyebrow, like he'd forgotten she was still there.
"Yeah, I do."
"Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to tell me how?"
Han rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at the Wookiee.
"Wonderful girl," he told Chewie. "Either I'm going to kill her, or I'm beginning to like her."
"I thought it was in your best interests to keep me alive," Leia snipped sarcastically.
"I'm starting to change my mind."
Before she could bite out a retort, Chewie enthusiastically interrupted with a story of barks and growls that she couldn't understand, and she looked between Han and Threepio to translate. Han said nothing, so Threepio provided her with the answer.
"Chewbacca says that Lieutenant Solo recently rescued him and a group of thirty other Wookiees from a slave ship bound for the Kessel spice mines that was docked overnight at the Imperial check station at Carida."
There was no point in concealing the shock on her face, so Leia didn't even try. She studied the lieutenant, wide-eyed, but he just shrugged sheepishly. And then, something clicked.
"That's why you're here?" she guessed. "Babysitting isn't really the kind of assignment that goes to decorated lieutenants."
"Sure. That's probably why I'm here."
"I'm surprised you weren't court marshaled for treason."
He waved a hand.
"Yeah, well."
Lieutenant Han Solo was clearly uncomfortable with this newfound attention; no doubt, he preferred the verbal sparring. Non-human slavery wasn't technically sanctioned by the Republic, but it also wasn't really a punishable offense. She knew that slave traders docked at the Carida check station with their sentient cargo in tow all the time and were waved on as though they were hauling nerf steaks or bantha feed. It was truly admirable that Han would be willing to risk his commission and even his life for a few Wookiees that were generally considered to be of no consequence.
Except...except that it was also truly suspicious that Han not only was not dishonorably discharged from the Navy, but had also suddenly appeared in her apartment under pretense of being her guard. His presence here meant two things: one, someone high up was pulling a few strings to keep him from getting in trouble, and two, he was here to spy on her. She had every right to be wary of him, but she had been stupid to be immediately on the defensive when she saw him in her parlor. It made her seem like she had something to hide, which she did.
"Solo," she said slowly. The name was familiar, was coming into focus from some foggy memory in her mind. "Wait, any relation to Keane Solo? The Grand Moff of the Carida system?"
Han sighed and nodded.
"Father?"
"Yeah."
"I've heard of you. You're something of a prodigy. Youngest lieutenant ever? And aren't you one of only two or three people to be awarded with the first class Corellian bloodstripes while you're still alive?"
"It's five people, but yes."
Leia raised an amused eyebrow.
"Would I be right in assuming that your illustrious and awe-inspiring position, then, is due in part to nepotism?"
Han scowled at her, and she concealed a smile behind her hand. He'd been in her apartment all of fifteen minutes, but she could already tell that he was the kind of man who got where he was out of sheer will and shirked the mantle of his family name at every opportunity. After all, she knew the feeling.
"No, you would not, Princess."
"I didn't think so."
He narrowed his eyes, but the amused hint of molten gold that suddenly appeared in his hazel irises gave him away. He got it.
"You hear that as much as I do, Your Highnessness?" Han asked.
The audacious play on her title was so unexpected and so ridiculous that Leia couldn't help but laugh. The man before her might be irreverent, might even be a threat to her, but there was an instant spark between them, an instant connection. They were dangerously, dangerously similar.
"A senator at nineteen? What do you think, Lieutenant?"
Han grinned again, a devastatingly handsome crooked smile, then for the first time seemed to notice that the young woman standing before him was, in fact, a woman. Leia hadn't bothered to change from her exercise gear after her morning run because she'd assumed she was more or less alone in her apartment, and was now in front of this relative stranger still flushed from her workout. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid that was no doubt coming loose, and she was wearing fairly small navy running shorts and a skintight, long sleeve white shirt. Though it was by no means the most revealing thing she could be wearing, he no doubt was enjoying the view of her shapely legs and slim silhouette.
The grin shifted into an appreciative smirk, and Leia was immediately glad that her cheeks were still red from her workout so he wouldn't the embarrassed blush that crept up her neck.
"Dunno, Sweetheart. Looking like you do, I'd say people think you slept your way to the top more than they think daddy got you the job."
Her jaw dropped open again, as seemed par for the course when dealing with this Lieutenant Solo, and immediately all good feelings she'd had about him evaporated. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Winter reenter the room, only to realize that Han and Leia were about to go another round and backed out quickly. Chewie chuckled softly at either Han's comment or Leia's reaction, she couldn't be sure, and Artoo whistled as Threepio let slip a quiet "Oh dear." Incensed, she drew herself to her full and not entirely intimidating height and Han shifted as though bracing himself for another tirade.
"Why you pompous, obtuse bantha breeder! How dare you suggest such a thing to me in my home?"
"Hey, Your Worship--"
"Let's get one thing straight, Flyboy," she threatened menacingly, pointing a finger in his face. "I don't know what kind of training they give you in the Navy, but if you're living in my house, then you will treat me with respect and dignity, got it?"
She didn't wait for an answer, but then again, it was a rhetorical question. As soon as the words left her mouth, she was storming past him in the direction of her bedchamber, muttering angrily under her breath about half-brained assassination attempts that get people too keyed up. Han stared after her, slack-jawed, frustrated by the tiny princess and at the same time enjoying the view as she stomped away. When she was out of earshot, he raised an eyebrow to the amused Wookiee, then scrubbed his face with his hands.
"Kreth," he muttered to no one at all. "No commission is worth this."
--
The Chalmun's Cantina
Mos Eisley, Tatooine
--
Luke Skywalker wasn't sure if it was the thick spice smoke that choked the air in the dim cantina or maybe the fresh knowledge that the first nineteen years of his life had been a lie that was clouding his mind, but he felt as though he were in a walking daydream. Twelve short hours ago, he was sitting down to dinner with his Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, prepared to once again suggest to his uncle that it was time for him to submit his application to the Imperial Academy. Now he was suddenly a Jedi padawan to Obi-Wan Kenobi, suddenly the twin brother of the Princess of Alderaan and the son of the Empire's second in command, and suddenly standing at the bar of a seedy Mos Eisley cantina with a man that he once thought was a strange old hermit, looking for a pilot to take them both to Alderaan.
It was quite a bit for him to comprehend.
He was vaguely familiar with Darth Vader, having seen holos of the man during in his history lessons in standard school. Luke had been surprised to learn that Vader was even capable of fathering children; he had always viewed the ruler as more of a breathing droid and less of a human. The fact that he had a sister, a princess sister, was even more difficult to understand, but Obi-Wan kept assuring him that he would explain everything when they got to Alderaan.
Luke glanced to his belt, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the silver-handled lightsaber that dangled at his hip. He was a Jedi, but the full weight of that power still held little meaning. From what he remembered from school, the Jedi had been purged not long after the Clone Wars because they were plotting to overthrow the Republic. To be discovered a Jedi meant a sentence of certain death, and it was a concept that, at the moment, was not entirely appealing to the young moisture farmer.
"Come with me," Obi-Wan said quietly, appearing at Luke's left as if out of nowhere and startling him from his thoughts. "I think I may have found a pilot."
Luke followed the old man to a round booth at the back of the cantina, and they sat down across from two scruffy-looking humans who could not have been much over twenty-eight. The taller of the two smirked as they were seated.
"I hear you're looking for a ride."
Obi-Wan nodded.
"That's right. We need passage to Alderaan."
The green-eyed man glanced between the farmboy and the old hermit.
"Just passage, that's it?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan confirmed. "We'd like to leave as soon as possible."
The two pilots glanced at each other, then the one who had been doing the talking nodded.
"Okay, we're interested. Alderaan's pretty far, and we don't like to get near the Core Worlds if we can help it, but we'll give you a break because you seem like easy cargo. Three thousand."
Luke felt his jaw drop at the exorbitant number that the pilot threw out and was ready to protest when Obi-Wan pulled a credit chip from inside his tunic and tossed it on the table.
"Done."
The taller pilot picked up the chip and inspected it, then handed it to his friend, who pocketed it.
"Great," he said. "You've got yourself a ship. My name's Wedge Antilles, and this is my co-pilot, Wes Janson. We fly the Prodigal, docking bay thirty-nine. We can leave now if you're ready."
--
The Senatorial Apartments of Leia Organa
Coruscant
--
Still fuming as she entered her large suite, Leia furiously yanked the braid out of her long hair and set about slamming clothes onto her bed until she had settled on the day's outfit.
"Impossible man," she seethed, tossing a white silk tunic dress and wide cream colored sash on top of the mountain of rich brown and ivory pillows at the head of her bed. Han was under her skin, had gotten there almost too quickly, and she never before remembered being so indescribably frustrated with one person. She plunged into her large closet, searching for a pair of cream colored ballet flats, so wrapped up in her anger that she didn't hear her comm until it was on its last chime. She flew to her desk, accidentally pulling three evening gowns off their hangers as she got tangled up in her hurry to answer the call.
"Hello?" Leia answered breathlessly, immediately regretting slapping on the video setting as the blue image of her father appeared before her. She was certain she looked frightful.
Bail Organa probably thought the same. He raised a puzzled eyebrow.
"Lelila, are you all right?"
She ran her hands over her hair in an attempt to smooth it and nodded quickly.
"I'm fine, Baba. I just, ah--wait, why are you calling now? It's," she glanced at the chrono on her wrist, "0515 in Aldera."
As the time dawned on her, Leia's blood suddenly ran cold. Because of the three-hour time difference between her home on Alderaan and her home on Coruscant, Bail almost never commed until mid-afternoon. If he was calling this early, then that could mean--
"It's not that, Leia," Bail said quickly, cutting off her train of thought. Clearly, the expression on her face had betrayed her. Leia let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and nodded for her father to continue. "Carlist got me up to tell me that there has been a Naval officer assigned to your personal guard."
Has there ever, she thought sarcastically.
"Yes. He arrived a few minutes ago." She lowered her voice despite the fact that she knew her chambers were almost soundproof. "He's Keane Solo's son."
Bail rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger at his daughter's words. The situation was more serious than he thought.
"You can't meet with Schafe Oxel today," he said after a moment.
"But Baba!" Leia protested immediately.
"Leia, you can't. They're suspicious, that's the only reason why they sent Keane Solo's son to you. You cannot be careful enough. I'm pulling you off this meetup. Targeter can do it. No one suspects her of anything."
If she were any younger, Leia perhaps would have stuck out her lower lip and pouted at her father's words. But since she was nineteen, almost twenty, such childish reactions were not an option, and what's more, her father was absolutely right. Han would be watching her carefully, but not Winter. If Leia made one wrong move, it would be over for Alderaan, but Winter was innocent and wraith-like and perhaps the least suspicious member of her personal staff because she had such a unique stealth-like, almost forgettable quality. As long as Han was around, it looked like Leia would have to pass her mantle of responsibility in the Alliance to her white-haired aide.
"You can't be seen associating with Mon on anything other than what is directly related to the Civil Liberties Committee," Bail continued. "If they suspect us, then they suspect Chandrila. Also keep your visits with Pooja Naberrie strictly social and in public. And don't acknowledge Garm Bel Iblis as anything other than a colleague. I know he doesn't get along well with the Solos."
"I do that anyway, Baba," Leia reminded him. "It just looks like I can't be sneaking out to meet with them in the middle of the night any longer."
"I'll get them all a message today. Have Winter take your meeting with Oxel. She can reschedule it for 1900 and you can take Solo to dinner."
"He knows Chewie," she said, suddenly recalling that interesting tidbit about the lieutenant's recent past. "Han was the guard that freed the Wookiees at the Carida checkstation. He was the one that Chewie had to shoot and knock out so it looked like he was overpowered."
Bail frowned, mulling over this new information.
"Hmm. I assume that he'll be accompanying you here for your debut in two weeks?"
"I don't see how I could convince him not to come. If he's truly spying, where better to do it than the palace?"
"I'll see to it that he's seated with us at the head table. That may allay some suspicions."
Leia nodded, not terribly concerned with the fanfare that would be surrounding her twentieth birthday and official debut as the heir to the Alderaani throne. In her mind, there were things more pressing than ancient traditions and ostentatious parties, though she knew that there weren't many on Alderaan who shared her view.
"How's Anae?" she asked quietly. "Should I come home this week?"
Bail sighed sadly and shook his head.
"She's the same, Lelila. I don't think you need to come home earlier than you planned. She knows you're working hard on the slavery bill and that you need to be there as long as you can. You know your mother. She would hate it if she knew you were making yourself less just to be with her."
"That's ridiculous, Baba. I wouldn't be making myself less, I would be cherishing what little time I have left with her."
"She doesn't like to think of it like that. Come home when you originally planned. If you finish the draft this week, you can send it to the committee and work on revisions from Aldera after your debut. The doctors are still saying a year. You still have time."
Leia nodded slowly after a long moment.
"Okay. Tell her I love her. And I love you, too, Baba."
"I love you, my Lelila," Bail agreed. "Be careful."
"I will. Organa out."
--
After Leia stormed off to her room, her aide Winter, who was quickly proving to be the more gracious hostess, showed Han to his new quarters on the second floor, one level below the princess'. His suite was large, consisting of a large antechamber containing three plush, deep brown repulsor chairs and a holoviewer and leading into a rounded bedroom with a panoramic viewport and full refresher recessed to the left through two closeted walls. The whole suite was decorated in the rich creams, browns, and pops of turquoise and crimson that were found throughout what he had seen so far of the apartment. The linens on his bed were of some of the finest silk he'd seen since his last visit to his grandmother's home on Corellia, and the whole suite was certainly an unfamiliar luxury compared to the spartan Naval accommodations that he had made his home for the past eight years.
Han tossed his small pack haphazardly onto the oversized bed, resolving to take an hour later in the day to move the Falcon to Leia's private bay and retrieve the clothing he'd left on board. Grabbing his commlink from the bag, he sauntered out into the living area and flopped into one of the comfortable chairs, flipping to the latest Smashball scores as he keyed in his father's direct comm code. Keane answered after half a chime, as though he had nothing to do but sit and wait for his son's call.
"Are you there?"
Han rolled his eyes, thankful that he had set the call to voice-only.
"Yeah, Dad, I'm here. She definitely wasn't thrilled, but her aide's moved me into a suite in the apartment so I should be able to keep a real close eye."
"Good," Keane replied. "If the Organas are involved in the Rebellion, they're going to be smart about it. She's going to cover her tracks. You need to be watching the smallest details, son. See if you can get access to her computer terminal. Watch her during meetings. They could have developed a code. It could look like nothing."
"Okay, okay. Dad, I get it. I may never have spied on anyone before, but I do know what I'm doing."
"I'm sure you do, Han," Keane said dismissively. "Oh, before I forget, Wilhuff Tarkin has invited us out to Endor next month for a personal tour of the new mining station he's commanding. Are you interested in joining us? It would only draw you away for two, three days tops. We could put someone else on your assignment while you're gone."
Why the hell didn't you just put someone else on this assignment in the first place, then? Han thought bitterly. Touring some overrated mining station sounded to him about as appealing as spending the afternoon with Leia's protocol droid, but considering that his other option was spending the afternoon with Leia's protocol droid, it certainly couldn't be worse.
"Yeah, sure, I'll go."
"I'll let Wilhuff know you're coming. He'll be pleased."
Han almost snorted at that. It was hard to imagine Grand Moff Tarkin pleased about anything. The man's cheekbones would probably shatter if he so much as cracked a smile.
"I'm sure he will."
"Oh, and Han, you forgot to forward your office comm to your personal line on Coruscant. Your inbox here is filling up, so I had Yigit check your messages for you. It seems that Bria Tharen has called twice and would really like to speak with you."
There was a reason why Han had "forgotten" to forward his office calls, and she was his ex-girlfriend, Bria Tharen. She didn't have access to his new Coruscanti line, and he truly preferred to keep it that way.
"Well, you can go ahead and order Yigit to throw those messages away. I don't need to talk to her."
On the other end, Keane sighed audibly.
"Han, I really thought that you'd gotten over this. It's been more than a year and she made one little mistake."
"You call sleeping with my best friend while I was stationed at Kuat one little mistake?"
"She's a very nice girl, son, and I'm sure she's very sorry about what happened. Don't you think it's time to stop hating her and start acting like an adult? After all--"
"Yeah, Dad," Han interrupted sarcastically. "I get it. After all, Tharens are huge weapons contractors and their relationship with the Navy is vitally important. Listen, I'm already playing one of your political games, so I'm not very interested in playing another. And besides, Dad, I don't hate Bria, I just don't care about her. I feel nothing for her. Not anger, not longing, not any more of those twisted little emotions, so I would appreciate it if you wouldn't try to make me a main character in this week's holosoap. I'm sure the Navy and Tharen Technologies will get along just fine without me."
Keane chuckled in that way that somehow made Han feel like a seven year-old all over again. It was infuriating.
"I'm sure we will. But think on it all the same. Comm me when you've got news on our princess."
"Fine."
"Good. Solo out."
The connection was severed before Han had a chance to reply, and he sighed heavily and tossed the device on the chair to his right. As he sank back into his seat, he heard the shower in Leia's grand bedroom directly above him activate and was suddenly assaulted with images of the pint-sized, sharp-tongued, beautiful potential traitor all soapy and wet and naked. Frustrated with his malfunctioning mind, he shook his head furiously and forced himself, rather unsuccessfully, to focus on the Smashball highlights.
It was going to be a long assignment, indeed.