"Alright! Now try!"
Leia recognized the phrase even before she saw who was yelling it. Han and Chewie were trying to fix the Falcon. And if they were trying to fix her, they were going to use her.
"Han!" she called, clear across the hangar.
Every single person in there stopped and looked at her, then at Han. Her steady pace faltered a moment but she kept going. She noticed the look on his face.
"Han, I need to talk to you!"
Chewie wuffled something to his partner, but Han stood up and thrust a forefinger in the Wookiee's direction.
"Shut up!" he said loudly, and bent to continue his work with the microfuser.
Leia winced at his harsh words to his best friend but continued nonetheless.
"Han, please?"
Some of the technicians glanced at each other before returning to their watch on the Princess and Captain Solo.
He shot her a murderous glare and jumped down for the hull of the Falcon – an impressive distance to say the least – before he punched the lock to his ship and disappeared inside. As the ramp began to close again, she ran toward it and only just managed to get inside before it closed.
"What are you doing?"
Han's voice, so harsh it startled her, questioned her without any hint of friendly concern.
"I just want to talk to you."
Han walked away without helping her up.
"What is there to talk about, Princess?" he asked. "I think the situation's pretty clear."
"But Han-"
"See why I never liked him?"
Leia frowned as she stood. Madine? Of course Madine.
"Han-"
"And I'll bet you believed him?"
"If you think that, then you obviously don't know me as well as I thought."
His expression seemed to soften for a moment, but then the hardened mask was back in place.
"So go on, then. Ask me. Isn't that why you're here?"
Again she was puzzled.
"What?"
"Madine? The charges? Go on. Ask me if they're true."
When she didn't speak, he sneered.
" 'First,' " he said, " 'deliberate and willful insubordination: Three counts.' All true. And you know what? The newest count was a year old at the time of that trial."
He took a step toward the holochess table.
" 'Second; Striking an officer. Two counts,' " and, at this, he stared at her. "Bullshit. I'd be shot for that."
She watched him shudder before he continued and he seemed to pale.
" 'Third; interfering with an official interrogation: One count.' In other words, saving a Wookiee beaten to within an inch of his life because he was bound so tightly he couldn't move simply for sport. Alright. Guilty.
Leia swallowed hard. So that was what had happened.
" 'Fourth; threatening a superior officer: Two counts.' How else was I supposed to get Chewie outta there?"
She didn't say anything.
"And as for the drugs and the endangerment of the base, that's as much bullshit as striking an officer."
He spread his hands.
"So are you happy now? Are you gonna leave?"
She stared at him a moment longer.
"I slapped Madine. And Rieekan didn't rebuke me for it. And I think you ought to know that-"
"That it's only most of the base who wants my ass, not all of it?"
((A/N: Actually, I'd quite like Han's ass, as well…))
"Han!" she said exasperatedly, "Please, listen to me. I've addressed the mess hall, they-"
"Leia, can you just stop? Please? Just…You can't make everything right, this time, okay? So just stop trying."
She narrowed her eyes as he turned away but she held back from making some cutting remark. He was down already. She wasn't going to kick him.
"I think you better go," he said quietly.
His voice sounded rough and strained. She took a step toward him and touched a hand on his shoulder.
"Han…"
"Now."
She drew her hand away and stared at his back for a long moment. When it was obvious that he wasn't going to turn around, she left.
She heard footsteps on the metal behind her and so she did not close the ramp, but when she turned to watch him clamber back up the falcon's hull with an assortment of wrenches slung about his waist he never even glanced at her.
--
Han waited until he was sure she'd turned away before he looked after her. He didn't want to yell at her, but if she hated him, it would be all the more easy to leave. Besides, he didn't care what she thought anyway. Or the kid. Or Rieekan. And if the rest of the base hated him what did it matter?
"You wish," he muttered.
Chewie rumbled inquisitively.
"Nothin', Pal, nothin'."
He watched her walk across the hangar but, as she got about halfway, something caught his eye.
With a bellowed curse, he catapulted himself from the Falcon and hurtled towards Leia.
--
Leia heard the curse and turned to face the Falcon again to see Han racing toward her, his face the absolute epitome of determination. It was only as he neared her that she heard the bloodcurdling scream of metal on metal above her head. She looked up as every hair on her body stood on end and saw the machinery of one of the tunnel diggers swinging down to crush her. And she couldn't move to save her life.
The only thing she was truly aware of, besides her impending death, was a sharp pain in her legs and her world tipping sideways. Then there was blackness.
--
Han stumbled on a scattered toolkit as he neared the Princess, who was still immobile with fear. He slammed into the ground just before he reached her, but he managed to catch her legs.
..--..--..
The first thing she noticed was that she was very cold. And her head and her legs were hurting. She opened here eyes and was almost blinded by the bright whiteness there to greet her. For one fleeting moment, she thought she had died and was surrounded by the white light many claimed to see. Then she realized she was lying on the ice in a hangar on their most recent rebel base.
Why was she on the floor?
Memories flashed through her mind, snowballs, kaff, Madine, the Falcon…
The digger…
Han!
She sat up quickly, swaying from the dizziness, and squinted, trying to get her eyes to obey her wishes. And then she saw it.
The digger had landed exactly where she would have been and the fixtures on the top were cut, not snapped or worn. But this was not what had her attention.
There, on the ice, with the ground about him a nauseating crimson, hands clutched, white knuckled, about the pneumatic spike that had impaled him, pinning him to the floor like some grotesquely skewered specimen, lay Han Solo.