Rating Warning: This chapter is T+/M! Read no further if that's not your cup of tea, you can wait for the next installment otherwise! Warning: High rating ahead, read at your own risk!
Chapter Seven
Han Solo cast a wary glance around the cantina in Mos Eisley, wondering why the hell he was back here anyway. Chewie growled something he didn't hear. He had come to pay off Jabba with the reward money, and waited for the courier. He wasn't dumb enough to face Jabba himself, not after this long. Chewie snarled, warning him of company, and he twisted around to see their contact winding through the crowd.
"Geeze, she works for Jabba? Where did he get her?" Han whispered as the flame-haired woman slid into the neighboring stool.
"Solo?"
"Yeah, I've got the money for Jabba."
"I'll deliver it as promised. I've got some news you may want to share with your Rebel friends." The woman looked at him from the corner of her eye as he passed a key into her hand.
"Bad news?"
"The Empire got a lead on the location of their base, I don't know who snitched or if they had other ways of finding out."
"How much time?"
"Two weeks, maybe three. They have to mobilize that battle station of theirs and make sure all is go."
"That little tidbit is priceless to the Rebellion. I guess my next stop is back where I started from." He nodded to the key, "That's the key to the storage container holding the payment."
"Let's make the transfer and I'll get you paid off."
"And I'll get my ass back to the Alliance." Han dropped some coins on the bar counter, pushed back, and left the cantina followed by Chewie and their attractive contact. Once the transfer was complete, he looked at the woman again, sticking out one hand, "Thanks for the update, I'll make sure they get word in time to set up some kind of counter-offensive. Though, having seen what that thing is capable of I don't know much that would be useful."
"It's only designed to repel large-scale fire. Small-scale fire, from a fighter craft, is not their main concern. There's an exhaust shaft on the axis that's ray-shielded but vulnerable to small-craft fire if you're smart and use proton torpedoes."
"And how would you know that?"
"I have my own sources, captain. I used to be involved with one of the designers. He doesn't know I know even that much." She shrugged, and her smile made Han wish she didn't work for Jabba.
"Too bad you work for the slug. I like girls of your brand."
"Who said I worked for him? I'm just making sure he stays off your sorry pirate ass so you can get something useful done with the Alliance."
"Who are you anyway? You don't work for Jabba, I hope you don't work for the Empire or we're all fucked, but you know more about the Alliance in two words than I do."
"The name's Yuma Viann, I report first to General Dodonna and General Madine." She had a pretty, exotic name, Han liked the way it sounded. And she was on their side, another bonus.
"A pleasure, Miss Viann. No need to introduce myself, or my copilot. If you ever need a lift somewhere, give us a call."
"If you're willing to wait two miles outside of Jabba's palace, I'll take you up on that offer."
"Sure, if I don't get my ass thrown to a Sarlaac or something else unpleasant."
"Unlikely. Jabba hates dealing with outsiders, so I should be done quickly." Yuma flashed that smile and Han was hooked. They took the Falcon out two miles beyond the palace, parked it, and sent Yuma off to pay off his debts. They waited two hours, and when Yuma came back she announced the deal closed, sealed, and tossed in a vault somewhere dark and slimy.
"He doesn't want to see you ever again. He couldn't promise not to send bounty hunters if you did something stupid, but I doubt he'll be too eager to mess around with secondary cease-and-desist orders coming from the highest levels of Rebel Command's central council."
"Wait a minute…what?"
"You, Captain Solo, answer to the splinter council on Yavin until it is disbanded for transfer, and whatever General Dodonna says goes. Don't make enemies or we'll give you right back to the Hutt."
"No thanks. If I've got enemies I didn't make 'em." He wondered where those orders had come from and decided not to question his stroke of good luck. As they left Tatooine behind, he wondered what kind of mess they would get into this time around. He was also curious to know how Luke's training was coming along. It had been almost a year, the kid had to have made some kind of progress. Though whether or not Han would ever get used to that haircut was an entirely different mess. Luke had just about scared the fur off of Chewie the first time he'd shown up in the lounge with his hair a good three to four inches shorter, dressed in a uniform he'd packed up in a bin and tossed in the back of a closet, with a braid about as long as his forearm from wrist to elbow hanging over his left shoulder from behind his ear. According to Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luke was now a Padawan of the Jedi Order. Having smuggled refugees from the Coruscant Temple, Han kept his mouth shut. That's why he had those uniforms, his past passengers had discarded their recognizable outfits for less dramatically advertising clothes. He'd given most of the stuff to Luke, but there was still some left. It would be nice to see the kid again, and the sisters, too.
Yuma Viann twisted a silver hilt with bone inlay between her hands, wondering why she was so desperate to keep her Knighthood a secret from Han Solo. He was a good man, and had no lack of experience carting Jedi from one place to another if the random collection of clothes in the back of one closet was any indicator. It was unlikely he'd think any less of her, but he might take a distance she didn't want. It was the Falcon's nightcycle, but she couldn't sleep and meditation brought no peace. She had discarded her disguise as soon as they'd left Tatooine and wore the familiar, comfortable tunics and trousers. The blade of her lightsaber flared bright, comforting blue, and she sighed. Extinguishing the blade again, she tossed it under her pillow and flopped back. Rolling over, she grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her chest. The door of her cabin hissed open and Solo stuck his head in, "Hey, I heard you moving around in here. Everything alright?"
"I can't sleep. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't." he came in, "What's keeping you awake?"
"Stupid stuff."
"Define stupid." Han folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. Not a man easily fooled, this one. She reached under her pillow and tossed her lightsaber to him. He caught it neatly in one hand and looked at it.
"Ah hah. So you're one of them. Why hide it?"
"I don't know why, that's what's stupid. I know you're not going to hand me over to the Empire, you hate them as much as I do." She looked away. He came to the bunk, slipped the lightsaber back under the pillow, and crouched to look at her.
"Hey, Viann?"
"Hmm?"
"Come on, you'll get no sleep in this cramped bunk." He coaxed her out of the bunk, and she grabbed her lightsaber on the way out the door. For the first time she realized that he wore nothing but a pair of sweat-pants.
Oh beautiful. She thought wistfully and decided that Han Solo didn't walk, he swaggered. Very sexy. When she found herself inside his cabin, she had to smile. The night held promise, but not of sleep. No, that came later. No sooner had she completed that thought than he was on her, deftly removing each layer of clothing she wore. Boots, stoles, tunics, and trousers all landed in an untidy heap by the bed. She pushed the sweatpants over his hips and let them fall to his ankles, following with the boxers. He took the liberty of adding them to the pile of clothes along with her undergarments.
"Sorry." He whispered hoarsely, "But the last girl I had onboard was untouchable."
"No…apology necessary." Yuma gasped as he went right ahead and helped himself. He hooked a foot around her ankle and they fell onto the bed together, ending up with him on top. He looked down at her, eyes wild with anticipation.
"Is this…allowed?"
"Oh yes. Yes." She said breathlessly. Her wily captain grinned and nudged her thighs apart with his knee.
"Good, I'd hate to break any rules." He ran one hand down the length of her body, sealing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss belying the passion that stirred between them. Yuma pulled away and threw her head back with a gasp as Han plunged home in one slick, hot thrust. She grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him down, reinitiating the kiss. It had been so long since a man had touched her that it was all new to Yuma, and no one had touched her the way he did. He was thorough, he was attentive, and he took as good as he gave. As they rested after the last aftershocks had faded, he folded his hands behind his head and smiled at the ceiling.
"That is a very content look, captain. Mind sharing your thoughts?" she folded her arms across his chest and laid her head on them.
"So this is what it's like to have sex with a Jedi." His smile grew wicked and she jabbed him in the ribs.
"Nice way to ruin the moment."
"I'm not complaining, I liked it." He reconciled with a quick kiss, and she gave in.
"You're forgiven." She conceded, laying her head on his shoulder as he reached down and pulled up the blanket, warding off the cold. That arm then wrapped itself around her waist and she snuggled close, closing her eyes. Sleep came easily to both of them, and it was Chewbacca's exasperated rumblings that got them out of bed the next morning. Cracking an eye open, she caught a parting glimpse of the Wookie's back as he left the cabin.
"He didn't come in?"
"Nah, he knows better than that when I've got company." Han sighed, stretching like a cat. Yuma smiled and pulled herself up to offer a good-morning kiss. The short stubble-beard scratched, and she pulled back, wrinkling her nose. He arched an eyebrow, "What?"
"Sandpaper." She rubbed the offending facial hair. He laughed.
"Sandpaper?"
"That's what it feels like. Go shave and then you can kiss me." She shoved him out of bed and watched him trudge dutifully to the bathroom.
"You're the only girl I know of who complained about that first thing in the morning." He called from the bathroom.
"I won't be last." She shot back. He emerged ten minutes later clean-shaven and grinning. She watched warily as he padded towards the bed, narrowing her eyes as he got closer. Suddenly, he pounced and she shrieked. He cut her off with a properly ravaging kiss that, of course, led to much more. This round was far more intense, and Yuma even used the Force to make things more interesting. The way he reacted to her Force-touch in that particular part of his anatomy would stay with her forever. His eyes nearly fell out of his head, and he all but choked. It also spurred on a magnificent climax for both of them. As they lay in each other's arms, recovering and waiting for their heart-rates to return to normal, she looked at him, "That was an interesting reaction. You've never been touched there, have you?"
"Uh, no."
"Pity." She dropped a quick kiss on the end of his nose.
"Man, you Jedi are weird about sex."
"Creative." She corrected, "We're creative."
"Man, maybe I need to spend more time around you guys." He grinned, "But, I have to admit, I like a girl who does things different."
"So you liked that?"
"Yeah, in some twisted way, I liked it." He hugged her close, "But if we don't show ourselves in the next thirty minutes, not only will Chewie come back, he'll come in."
"Force forbid we should displease the Wookie." She rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Han watched her and she looked over her shoulder, "You did say we, didn't you?" He almost fell out of bed in his haste to follow her. To save time they used the sonics. When they were done, they got dressed and headed for the cockpit, where Chewbacca greeted them with a gruff good-morning. He watched them both very closely and grumbled to himself as they came out of hyperspace at Yavin. Yuma wondered if any of the Masters would remember her, many had just taken their Padawans when the Purges began. The number of Jedi survivors grew smaller every day as they were picked off by Darth Vader and a cadre of specially-hired bounty hunters. But those who did survive continued to do so with a determination to prove the Empire wrong. She just wished they didn't have such bad news for the Rebellion.