"Well, then, why haven't we heard of you before?" Mon asked sweetly, and surprised.
"Well Mon," Han started but Leia cut him off.
"Mon, it's none of our business, please could we find her a position somewhere," Leia said quickly.
Mon Mothma eyed them suspiciously, but said nothing of it. Instead she sat back down at her desk and pulled up some files on a datapad. "Well, Ms. Solo. The Rogues lost about three pilots. They could use some fillers. What are your flying capabilities?"
"I've flown everything. Even an X-Wing. I was at the top of my class in the Imperial Academy, and I've had a few Solo tricks handed down to me. I've been flying for over fourteen years. Started on swoop bikes, graduated to speeders, then eventually around seven or eight I flew a podracer. I guess it was about ten that I started flying starships. I know combat, I know flying. Think I'm suitable?"
Han was staring at her in shock, his jaw hanging down in an unnatural position. "A podracer?" he asked for clarification.
"Yes, a podracer."
"Well, Ms. Solo, you seem quite suitable. I'll give orders to Rogue Leader, Wedge Antilles, to prepare for you. Report to him tomorrow morning aboard the Home One. The last shuttle to the space craft will be tonight, just after dusk. A call will go out. The Rogues are really a nice bunch, though immature, maybe you can bring some maturity to them," Mon smiled sweetly.
"Maybe," Aleya smiled back. "I'm going to go look around, father. See you later?"
"Uh huh," Han nodded. He threw a glance at Leia at walked out after Aleya. Aleya walked down the wooden walkway to survey the temporary quarters. Unlike her, he waited outside, propping himself up against the wall of the cabin to wait for his cold hearted sweetheart.
"What a sweet girl," Mon said. "I wonder why Han has never mentioned her."
"Well, it's not really our business, now is it Mon?"
"No, I suppose not. Where are you going, Leia dear?"
"I need to take a walk, I'll be back shortly."
He heard the footsteps coming closer and waited for her to walk out of the door. She stepped out into the sunlight and shaded her eyes with her hand, turning in the opposite direction of him and began to walk away. He reached out and grabbed her by the forearm, spinning her around to face him and pulling close.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she said, eyes downcast.
"Well, you seem very interested in studying the structure of the wooden floors," Han said sharply.
She looked at him with hard eyes, but she still refused to look him in the eye. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Not now, Han," she said, trying to pull away from him, "please."
"No, something is bugging you," he tightened his grip on her arm. "What is it? Is it something that I did?"
"No."
"Is it something someone else did?"
"In a way."
"Aleya?"
"No."
"Leia, for the love of Alderaan tell me what is going on that has you so worked up!" He regretted it before he said it.
"That's just it, Alderaan. Seeing you reunited with Aleya brings back so many memories," she said softly, choking back a sob.
He released his hold on her arm immediately, but she didn't move.
"I just wish I could see my father one more time. Or my mother, or cousin, or friends. But I'll never have the chance you and Aleya have. I'll never have it, Han. It just hurts," she turned, long hair sweeping across her face, and walked away.
Han sighed for what he thought must have been the fiftieth time that day. And it had only been six hours since he woke up. Grumbling about something or other, he tramped off in the opposite direction, towards the Falcon.
He ended up back at the lake, throwing rocks into the murky depths.