Pate's bright green protocol droid handed Leia a basket of fruit from the Alderaanian garden then began his message. Pate's voice boomed through the main corridor of the Envoy V.
"His Highness, Prince Pate, invites you, Princess Leia, to dine with him this evening. His Highness would like to discuss the Alliance's proposal over dinner with you alone."
Leia could feel Han shift next to her at the word "alone." She placed her hand on his arm to keep him from speaking.
The droid continued, "His Highness will send an appropriate dress and a litter for you around seven in the evening standard Myrra time. His Highness requests that you wear the punig stone he gifted you in addition to the outfit that will be delivered."
Despite her hand on Han, he couldn't contain himself. "You tell Pate that the Princess will arrive with her security team in tow." Han pointed an angry finger at the droid while he spoke. "The Princess doesn't go anywhere near Pate without us."
The droid took a step back from Han and addressed Leia again, "If Your Highness wishes to bring your lady in waiting with you, Prince Pate will welcome her to the table. But the Prince fears any other guests will spoil the negotiations." The droid turned his bright green mechanical head to look at Han.
Leia spoke now for the first time, "Tell Prince Pate thank you for the basket of fruit. Dalia and I would be honored to join him for dinner this evening." Leia squeezed Han's arm hard in an effort to keep him in check while she finished. "We will look for the arrival of the litter near seven."
The droid looked from Han to Leia and down to Leia's hand that was gripping Han's arm so hard her knuckles had turned white.
"I will relay the message. And now I take my leave. Good day, Your Highness." The droid bowed slightly to the company standing before him, turned, and left.
Leia let go of Han, and he immediately began to rub the deep red fingerprints she had left on his arm.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" he yelled in front of everyone.
"Not now," she hissed at him, aware that no one had moved and the entire crew was staring at them.
"Yes, now!" Han waved a hand at their audience. "No one here is going to be surprised at what I have to say about this." His voice cracked with emotion as the blood climbed up his neck to redden his face.
Leia handed the basket of fruit to Dalia, "Let's have this for breakfast. See if Sulla minds. I don't want to inconvenience her if she's already started on something else."
Dalia took the basket and waved for the others to follow her out of the corridor and into the Main Lounge.
"Stop it, Han," she said through gritted teeth. "I thought we had agreed that you would trust me on this."
"I do trust you, Leia. It's Pate I don't trust," his face was fully red now, though he struggled to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice.
"I understand your objections, Han. But I can't let fear rule my decision making. If he wants me there to seal the deal over dinner, I can do that. Dalia and I can manage him," she insisted.
"Like you were managing Vader on the Death Star or Jabba back on Tatooine?"
Leia winced at those words. "So you are saying that without you constantly coming to my rescue I'd be what? Dead?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm and the tension they left behind the night before was back with a vengeance.
"I'm saying, there are times when you can't get yourself out of a scrape as well as you think you can. Rieekan charged me with protecting you for a reason. He was worried that there would be situations out here that would require other people to have your back. I'm fairly certain this qualifies as one of those situations."
"Dalia will be there," she stated flatly.
"Dalia is a fine friend to have, but an unarmed 'lady in waiting' is hardly my idea of a backup," he fired back at her.
"I'll be sure to share with her how much confidence you have in her abilities." With that, she turned on her heel and made her way into the Main Lounge and the crowd gathered around the basket of Alderaanian fruit.
Han knew he couldn't sit around the Envoy V all day and stew about the "private dinner" or the fact that Leia seemed not to need him. He was not that kind of guy. He headed out to the streets of Myrra. Alone.
Like every other day he had been on the street in the capital city, no one looked at him as he passed. No one spoke to one another; no one made eye contact. While businesses of every sort lined the street, there were no market stalls in the streets or restaurant tables on patios. Han got the distinct impression that "street life" was not part of Myrrans' vocabulary.
"Lookin' for a place to buy a drink?" a husky alien voice whispered to him from behind. Han knew better than to turn around. If informants were approaching him on the street, they wouldn't want him to attract attention.
"Always," Han nodded, slowing his pace slightly so the unidentified alien could keep up with him.
"There's a cantina one street over. Called 'The Golden Girl'. Turn left at the next street, then left again. Got a gold door. Can't miss it. Sit in the booth with the girl in the black bikini."
Han nodded and quickened his step. He found the cantina without a problem, and slipped inside. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the bar. The music was load and the entire room seemed to gyrate with movement. Scantily clad girls danced on every table. Han scanned the room for a girl dressed in black. He spotted her at a table farthest from the door.
"Want a dance?" she slurred as he slipped into the booth.
He waved an acknowledgement of her question but didn't look at her. A waitress slid two drinks onto the table. Han thanked her and waited.
The beat of the music never changed, and the girls on the table were a successful distraction from other activity in the room. Han fingered his blaster, holstered as always by his side. He did not expect to use it here for he doubted Pate would be so bold as to knock him off, but he didn't put stirring up a little trouble beyond the prince.
After several minutes, an elderly woman joined him. She reached for the second glass on the table, drained it, and then whistled loudly to get the waitress' attention for more.
"He's hiding something from her," she croaked. Her voice sounded like she had something lodged in her throat. Han had to fight the urge not to pound her on the back to dislodge it.
"Hiding something from all of us, really. Do you know the history of Akiva?" she asked without looking at Han.
He shook his head.
"Used to be a great subterranean droid factory. Made the satrap a lot of money and gave him a lot of power. That's all gone now. Well, the influx of money. Now he makes it on the black market."
Han nodded impatiently. All kinds of rulers in the galaxy made a living nowadays on the wrong side of the law. This was not news to him.
"The satrap has this big harem. Bigger than his father's even. And Pate, well, he's the son of the satrap's favorite wife. So, he's going to inherit it all. Thing is, he got tired of waiting. So he poisoned the satrap, and imprisoned all his father's concubines and the children." She paused to take a long drink of her beverage.
Han took this opportunity to say, "So is the satrap dead?"
"No," she sputtered as she swallowed. "I have good spies. He's alive. But whatever Pate's giving him is making him unable to fight back or do anything at all about the situation."
"So, where does Pate have all of his brothers and sisters? And all their mothers?"
She was drinking again. "Droid factory," she said into her cup.
"Underground," Han nodded. It made perfect sense.
"The women of the harem were easy to hide away. I mean, the harem itself was hidden anyway. But his siblings? That was tougher. See, in this system, the siblings, or half-sibling of the heir fill in as the heir's chief advisors and administrators. Some who aren't loyal or just aren't bright fill in the other duties. A concubine who finds herself on the wrong end of the satrap's generosity might be punished by having to watch her children placed in positions of servitude." She paused again, draining her cup. "So, somehow Pate had to move not just the women but their children too… some of them already grown… in order to keep them from protesting his treatment of their shared father."
"How did he do it? How did he gather them all up?"
She shrugged and whistled for the waitress yet again. "Tricked some. Snatched others right off the streets. Got pretty nasty with some of them. Bystanders stopped asking questions when Pate ordered the Gamorreans to kill anyone who tried to intervene."
"So, how many people do you think he has under there?"
She paused, tapping a finger on the table."400 maybe? I don't know exactly. A lot."
"Is the Princess in danger?"
She smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, Han Solo, you are in significantly more danger than your princess. She is untouchable. You are not." She stood as the waitress arrived again at the table with her drink, took it from her, and wandered off into the crowded bar.
Han sat thinking about the old woman's words. He was in danger not her. He had been in danger because of her before. In fact, he had been in danger because of her many times before. But she was worth it. Always worth it. What really worried Han was that they might use her to get at him. It was one thing to meet Pate head on and lose. It was another thing for Pate to put Leia in the middle. He knew enough about Leia's state of mind to believe that she would blame herself if anything happened to him. Just as he would always blame himself if anything happened to her. The only sure-fire way to make sure that neither of them was put into the situation was to stop Pate before he could hurt either of them.
"I need to talk to you. Now!" Han demanded as he stormed back onto the Envoy V. Leia and Dalia were standing in Leia's private lounge sorting through packages that Pate had sent over with the evening's suggested attire.
Leia looked from Han to Dalia and back to Han. "Ok. Talk."
"Alone," he stated coolly.
"Anything you have to say you can say in front of Dalia. You know that."
Han breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself. He looked at Dalia. "Dalia, please give us a minute."
Dalia nodded, dropped the dress she was holding, and walked out of the room.
Han turned and walked back to Leia's bedroom. Leia followed him, recognizing that she wanted to get as many walls between her voice and the crew's ears before she yelled at Han for dismissing Dalia.
"Han, let me remind you that I am in charge here—"
Han held his hand up in an effort to silence her. "Stop. Just stop. I need you to listen to me. I have some information that you need to hear. Pate has imprisoned his family, his siblings and maybe his father, in an old subterranean droid factory."
Leia rolled her eyes. "How do you know this?"
"I've spent the afternoon gathering intelligence. It's part of my job."
"You smell like you've spent the afternoon in a cantina," she retorted.
"Dammit, Leia. Listen to me. We are in danger." He held back the part of the old woman's warning that he was the one in danger. He wanted Leia to take this seriously, but he did not want her to overreact and do something rasher than she already had planned. "I'm not sure exactly what Pate's plan is, but the fact that he has possibly poisoned his father and hidden away the rest of his family can't be good. I'm not going to let you go to this dinner alone with him. If you feel like you have to meet with him, fine. But the rest of the security team is going with you."
"Han," she began to protest yet again.
"I have strict instructions not to let you go anywhere alone. If something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself." He shook his head. "This is not open to negotiation, Leia."
Frustration bubbled out of Leia, and the volume of her voice not only shot up, but the tone did as well. "Han, the jealous thing was a turn on the first time you said it, but you can't let this get in the way of the overall mission. I am here to convince them to join the Alliance. If that means I have to have dinner alone with Pate, I am having dinner alone with Pate. Not sex. Dinner, Han. Dinner."
"Gods, Leia. This is not about jealousy. This is about your safety," he shouted. "He has something planned."
Leia stood with her arms crossed, glaring at him. She wasn't budging. Han decided to try a different tactic. If he couldn't scare her into allowing him to go, maybe he could appeal to her intelligence.
"You are smarter than this," he said. "You have more intelligence, more political savvy, more…" he couldn't think of the word, "… more of everything, in your little finger than he has in his whole kingdom. You don't need to do this. You want to do this. You know he wouldn't invite you to come alone if he didn't have something planned."
"Dalia and I can handle it, Han. We are big girls," she argued.
Han's shoulders dropped. He was getting nowhere with her. He would not convince her to believe him. He would have to find another way to attend the dinner.
Dalia was in the lounge discussing something quietly with Park. Han cleared his throat to get their attention. "Can I talk to you?" he asked Dalia.
Dalia followed him into his quarters, where he related everything the old woman had said to him that afternoon.
"Why won't she listen to me, Dalia? I get the sense that she wants this dinner with Pate. But I can't figure out why. Does she want a yes for the Alliance so badly that she would throw caution to the wind? Or does she want something from Pate himself? Something I can't give her." He grimaced as he said the last words. "I can't give her a palace, or a 'Prince' in front of my name. I can't give her Alderaan. I can't take her back home."
Dalia said, "She never like all that ritual stuff. This isn't 'coming home' this is nostalgia." Dalia took a step toward Han and put her hand on his shoulder, "Hey, this isn't about Pate. I promise you. This is about Leia's interpretation of her duty to the Alliance. She feels like she let them down when Alderaan was destroyed. Let us down," Dalia patted herself on the chest. "She's just trying to make sure she doesn't let anyone down again."
"But Alderaan wasn't her fault," Han protested.
Dalia smiled weakly. "Try telling her that. Have you talked to her about Alderaan? Do you know how much guilt she carries?"
"Some," Han nodded.
"Pate is feeding into her guilt. That's what the punig stone, garden, and courtly stuff is all about. He wants her to feel like she can make up for Alderaan by embracing what she has lost."
"Bastard," Han whispered.
Dalia nodded. "But she has to play his game to get the yes for the Alliance. Let her play it out. I'll be there to make sure nothing happens."
Han stood silently, thinking about his next move.
"We've been at this for a couple of weeks now, and you've been by her side dutifully every moment. Take the night off. I'll take the rest of the team as far as the palace, and they can assume positions that will let them observe and be close in case something happens."
"I'll—"
"No," she held up her hand. "Your presence will only make Pate nervous. You stay here. Let the rest of us handle this." She turned on her heel and exited his quarters before he could continue his protest.
Dalia was crazy if she thought Han was going to sit around the ship while the rest of his team went off to protect Leia. But Han also recognized that he needed to change his tactic. If he could not convince the others that they needed him, he would simply have to play their game and formulate his own plan. To that end, when Dalia arrived as his door holding a glass of whiskey, he took it willingly.
"To relax you on your night off," she said with a warm smile. Han took the whiskey and slugged it back. She smiled and poured him another. He did not drink it, but took the glass and the bottle and thanked her.
Moments later he heard the cheerful group leave the Envoy V. He felt a mix of relief that he had been left to his own plan and sudden exhaustion. I'll lie down for just a minute, he thought. It'll give them time to get some ways ahead of me so that they don't see me follow them.
He awoke in the pitch black. He had fallen asleep but he had no memory of being sleepy—exhausted, yes, sleepy, no. One minute he was lying back on the bed, the next minute he was waking. What in the Gods' names had happened? His head was pounding. He'd only had one drink… the one glass of whiskey Dalia had handed him. He hadn't drunk another one, had he? He reached for the reading light above his bed and switched it on. His vision was blurry but he could see the unfinished glass of whiskey on the desk. No, he'd just had the one drink. His head swam with the effort of sitting up, and his mouth filled with saliva. He was going to be sick. He lurched for the 'fresher in hopes of getting there in time. He just made it, vomiting the contents of his stomach as though he'd had a hard night of boozing. When the heaving stopped, he slumped next to the toilet. The hard deck floor felt cool against his skin, and he pressed his burning cheek up against it.
"Han," he could hear Leia calling to him. A cool cloth bathed his forehead. "Han," he heard again. He shifted in an effort to roll onto his back but the movement shot a pain through his head.
He grabbed the hand that mopped his brow. "Stop," he demanded.
"Han," she said in a maternal voice. "Let's see if we can get you into bed."
He tried to wiggle away from her hands, but he was too sluggish and too nauseated to get far. "You drugged me?" he asked accusingly.
"No I didn't," she stated as a matter of fact.
"You did," he replied taking another swipe at her hand on his forehead. "Or Dalia did." He felt the bile rising in his throat again and tried to turn before the dry heaving began again.
She sighed, rubbing his back as his body jerked against the heaving. "It was Dalia's idea. She was afraid you would follow us. That you wouldn't be able to control your temper or your jealousy. I needed to go to that dinner, Han. I needed to."
"Stop. You are just making it worse."
"Come on, let's see if we can get you off this floor. Dalia said she only gave you enough to make you sleep for an hour or two. You must have some kind of allergy to the tonic. She said she's never seen anyone get so sick from it. She's researching an antidote right now."
Han struggled to his feet, though he only managed a stoop. Any effort to move his head fully upright resulted in another wave of nausea. "What time is it?" he asked as he shuffled toward his bed.
"About 4am."
"You stayed out with Pate until 4am?" Han tried to muster some indignation, but he didn't have it in him. Though his vision was still blurry, he could see that Leia was wearing a sleeveless gown similar to the one Pate had sent her that first day. He directed his eyes toward her neck and noted with relief that she was not wearing the punig stone as Pate's droid had requested.
Leia smiled at him. "Han, your jealousy was a turn on at first, and then it was enraging, but now it is just tedious."
The door slid open, and Dalia walked in carrying a tiny glass with a dark purple liquid in it. She approached Han in the bed cautiously, "I am so sorry. I had no idea you would react this way to a simple sleeping tonic." She repressed a smile.
Han caught it. "You think this is funny?"
"No, of course not. Well, maybe a little." Leia shot Dalia a look. "Ok," Dalia said holding up a little glass. "Park was a medic before he joined the security squad, and he swears by this concoction as an antidote to the sleeping tonic. He says it'll only take a few minutes to kick in."
Han tried to sit up. "It smells awful." He leaned over the edge of the bed as he gagged. Leia rubbed his back as he heaved again.
"Come on, just swallow it quickly."
Propping himself on one elbow, he took the glass and shot the liquid down his throat. He gagged once again but kept the liquid down.
"How's that?" Dalia asked.
"Peachy," he replied. "Now get the hell out," he said without emotion. Dalia patted him on the shoulder and then took her leave of them both.
Leia turned to the business of getting Han undressed for he was still fully clothed down to his boots.
"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly.
"Getting you undressed," she replied.
"I thought I'd never hear you say those words," he said flatly. He was still angry with her for going to Pate against his advice, but he didn't have it in him to fight with her.
"You must be feeling better already if you are in the mood to tease me."
He pulled her into bed next to him. "I am upset that you and Dalia drugged me. That you put yourself in that position with Pate. But I'm glad you are back safely." He paused while she settled in next to him. "How did it go tonight?"
"Good," she said. "We'll know more in the morning. We have a meeting set for 9am local time."
He wanted to ask her specific details about the dinner, but he didn't have it in him to talk. The antidote had relieved the nausea and the pounding in his head, but he continued to feel groggy and disoriented. The warmth of her next to him soothed his anger, and he didn't want her to go, so he stayed silent and pulled her into the curve of his body. In minutes, the soft rhythm of sleep overtook her breathing. Han too fell back into a deep sleep.
He shot awake several hours later and looked at the time. 8:30am. He sprang from bed and ran to the door and into the corridor. He needed to find Dalia to buy them some time to get ready. She was sitting in the lounge with the other security detail members. No one looked frantic about the time. "Dalia," he hissed, and waved her over. "The time, I… we…"
She held up a hand to stop him. "The meeting has been postponed. Pate is hungover, so we don't have to be at the palace until 1. Go back to bed. Go back to her," she whispered.
Han crawled gently back into his bed. He set his alarm for 10:30am, and prepared to watch her sleep. But within minutes, he was asleep again as well.
When the alarm next went off, it was Leia who sat up. "What time is it?" she puzzled. Confused, she looked around the room. She had forgotten that she had fallen asleep in Han's bed and for a moment she couldn't remember how she had gotten there.
"Hey, he said grabbing her as she leapt from his bed. It's ok. The meeting has been postponed.
"Why?" she asked.
"Lover boy has a hang over." And then it hit him. She was with him until 4am, and he was so hung over that now they couldn't meet. They'd been up all night drinking. "Um, so you were up all night drinking with him?"
"What?" Leia asked not following the change in topic from delayed meeting to her night with Pate.
"Pate has such a hang over that he can't meet this morning. He was with you last night, so he must have gotten that hang over in your company."
Leia nodded. "He drank a lot. A lot. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything like it." She wasn't looking at him. Her head was bent towards her lap as she tried to rebraid her hair.
"Did he try anything?" Han demanded.
"Here we go again," Leia muttered.
"Well?"
"Well, what do you think Han?" she asked exasperated. "He invited me to his palace to have dinner with him alone. He thinks he has me backed into a corner. That I will marry him in exchange for a promise to join the Alliance."
"I knew it!" shouted Han and then winced at the pain his own voice caused to his still tender head.
"Oh come on, everyone knows it. This is not news. Everyone from Riekker on down knew this is what Pate was going to pull. That is why they sent me."
"As some kind of sacrificial lamb?"
"No, because they knew I could handle it if he tried anything, and then—"
He cut her off. "Did he? Did he try anything?"
"Han, let me finish…"
"Leia," he came across the room in two strides to stand right in front of her, "did he try anything?" he said slowly. Almost menacingly.
"Yes," she said softly. Han stepped back across the room to his boots. "What are you doing? Han, stop. Let me finish my explanation."
"Leia, I am done with this nerfshit. This guy thinks he can just take whatever he wants. Well he can't have you," he spat.
"Han, what are you going to do? Fight him? You are just going to walk into the palace and fight a prince who is surrounded by guards. An old smuggler fighting a prince, Han." The look on Han's face told her that she had gone too far. She paused for a moment trying to redirect her argument. "Han," she began again softly, "you have this all wrong."
But he wasn't listening to her. She had cut him deeply. In all the years the two of them had been friends, and then more than friends, all the bickering, the fighting, the barbs, and jabs, never once had they attacked the fundamentals of the other one. The unchangeable things. It was one thing to call her an ice princess or him a scoundrel. They could change those things. But he couldn't change his past. He couldn't change the fact that he was a smuggler and in many ways still thought like a smuggler. It is what made him good at his other duties. But now she had used that against him. Demonstrated that she was willing to draw fundamental distinctions between who he was and who Pate was. She was walking over to him now, still talking, still apologizing. She placed her hands on his cheeks. He took a deep breath; he was done fighting with her. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay. Go get dressed for the day. Eat something. You need to finish what you've started."
But it wasn't okay. It might never be okay again.
Prince Pate was subdued at the meeting that afternoon. He had agreed to join the Alliance and promised that either himself or one of his full brothers would serve as the Senator from his planet once representative were needed. Only Han seemed to grasp the irony of his agreement regarding one of his siblings. Pate would, of course, have to free that brother from the abandoned droid factory. But no one would listen to Han on that score. Leia had mentally moved on from Pate, ready to take on their next planet. But Han couldn't move on. Couldn't forget what had happened in Myrra. Couldn't forget what Leia had said. Couldn't help but wonder what she had done to get them out of there so easily.
