Apologies for the late posting, again. It's not all my fault; I intended to spend a full weekend writing a couple of weeks ago and then I came across Kelleher's The Battle of Coruscant which interrupted those plans. If you haven't already read Kelleher's work, do so because all of it is brilliant.

I hoped to get this posted by the end of last week and then ended up becoming ill so the delay has brought about a slight change in plan. I said in my notes for Chapter 9 that Breha and Winter would be back in this chapter but I've moved things around a little to keep things moving so Breha will definitely be in Chapter 11 and then Winter will feature in Chapter 12. Without wanting to give anything away, the main body of the story will revolve around Han, Leia and Chewie so I want to make the most of the other characters while I can and they will all feature quite prominently in the chapters to come.

So this is a Han/Chewie chapter. I am writing Chapter 11 now so I really don't intend for there to be as long a wait between updates from now on and the target is for 11 to be posted within the next week. And it will have the first real one-to-one interaction between Han and Leia.

Thank you to everyone who is reading and has reviewed this story, I hope anyone who is following it is enjoying.

10

There was an old spacers' proverb that Chewie had always felt captured the essence of his friend and business partner very succinctly: while the cautious man worries about tomorrow, the reckless man lives fully for today.

Wookies were philosophically predisposed to viewing life with a more cautious and reverent outlook than most other species in the galaxy. They believed that their long lives were a privilege, a sacred gift bestowed on them by a higher power, and so should be treated as such; to live recklessly, to risk one's life through ill-judgement and impulsiveness, was considered an affront to the Gods.

Han Solo lived with a wholly different perspective on mortality.

Early on in their partnership, Chewie had naively thought that Han's recklessness was simply a consequence of the hardships he'd had to overcome during his youth spent on the streets of Coronet City, a trait that he would eventually mature and move on from. Having had to struggle for so long merely to survive, it had been understandable that rushing headlong into danger had become almost second nature to Han, that he wouldn't be minded to take the calmer, more considered approach to life that a Wookie would.

But Chewie's enslavement by the Empire, the suffering he'd had to endure, had instilled in him a new perspective on life that was at odds with that of a typical Wookie. He'd come to find a strange but intoxicating sense of exhilaration in escaping all of the near-disasters that Han's impetuousness brought upon them, in living for the moment because the future then had been so uncertain and yet so enticingly full of possibilities.

Others would have likely cut their losses and walked away at the realisation that Han's recklessness was an innate part of his being rather than a by-product of his youth that would eventually pass; there had been a time when it had seemed as though he had expected to Chewie to do just that.

In truth, Chewie had never once been tempted to do so.

It hadn't simply been the life debt he'd sworn to Han that had kept him from leaving, not merely a sense of duty or obligation to an ancient Wookie custom. Committed as Chewie was to honouring that debt, the bond he'd come to forge with Han was far stronger than any such arrangement could dictate.

Han, as far as Chewie was concerned, was family.

An unspoken understanding existed between them, one that transcended any sentiment that either could express through words. In an era where Wookies were subjected to such prejudice and degradation, the loyalty and respect that Han had always shown toward Chewie had been such a welcome anomaly. From the very beginning, Chewie had never been expected to be subservient or blindly follow orders; at Han's insistence, they had always been partners, equals in every sense. While they bickered and disagreed, as brothers were prone to do, they nonetheless trusted one another implicitly.

Han had given Chewie a renewed sense of worth and purpose following his ordeal at the hands of the Empire, a reason to believe that intrinsic good that still existed in the galaxy; in turn, Chewie had been the one stable presence in Han's life, the only being he'd known that hadn't abandoned or been taken away from him.

Each bore the scars, both physical and mental, of the traumas of their separate pasts.

But they'd helped one another to move past those traumas. The passage of time had inflicted new wounds upon them both, fortune hadn't always been kind to the pair, but they were hardened survivors having each suffered a lifetime's worth of pain by the time they'd first crossed paths.

Spending so many years away from Kashyyyk, away from his wife and son, had at times been agonising for Chewie but the friendship he'd established with Han had made that separation bearable. The sometimes chaotic pace at which they lived, the often unpredictable nature of their work, had brought plenty of distractions to contend with over the years, but it was the familial companionship they'd established that had steered them both through the more testing times.

And the fallout from their betrayal at the hands of Bria Tharen had been a formidable test.

But Chewie sensed that Han's ill-fated search for answers from Bria, his recklessness in pursuing her so tenaciously, might just have inadvertently brought a solution to all of the problems that she'd caused them.

Since their return to the Falcon, Chewie had contemplated nothing but the proposition that Bail Organa had put forth earlier that evening, marvelling that his and Han's venture to Ranolta had proven to be so unexpectedly rewarding.

Han, meanwhile, had skulked around the ship, communicating only in monosyllabic grunts whenever Chewie had tentatively tried to initiate a discussion about the business proposal that now lay on the figurative table before them. This was typical behaviour on his part; the Corellian, like Chewie, could not think of a single good reason to turn this opportunity down. And for that reason he was now sulking like a petulant teenager, because he felt backed into a corner by inescapable common sense.

Choosing to ignore his partner for the time-being, Chewie busied himself with preparing dinner for them both. Cooking was something of a cathartic hobby for the Wookie, a pastime that brought pleasure and distraction, an opportunity to both think and create. Han was a very good cook in his own right but his approach to it, as it was with most things, was drastically different to Chewie's; he arrived at his dishes through accident rather than by design, haphazardly throwing together whatever ingredients he might find stocked in the ship's galley and leaving messes of somewhat epic proportions in his wake. Chewie, on the other hand, was far more methodical and intricate.

As he delicately diced red roca peppers to add to the pot of Nerf stew that was simmering on the stove, Chewie considered how best to navigate the conversation that now loomed before him, hoping that Han would be in a slightly more amenable mood when it took place.

Having spent so many years traversing the smog and grime of the galaxy's urban metropolises and decrepit outposts, Chewie thought that any time spent amidst the calm and tranquillity of Alderaan would serve as a welcome respite for them both. Though the cities and villages of Kashyyyk were not as grand or opulent as Aldera, the Wookie had nonetheless immediately drawn similarities between Alderaan and his homeworld, the most prevalent one being how civilisation had sought to live alongside nature on both planets rather than supplant it; he thought that too much of the galaxy's natural beauty had been sacrificed for industrialisation, lost forever through callous and short-sighted disregard.

As the Falcon had soared over Alderaan's snow-capped mountains and majestic waterfalls, Chewie had felt the stirring of his natural instinct to explore. to immerse himself in all of the natural wonders that lay beyond the boundaries of Aldera. This was the sort of planet where he and Han could effectively disappear, the last place where Jabba or anyone else with a score to settle against them would think to look. They'd be safe here, at least for a little while, could live without the everyday stresses and pressures that were a consequence of them always having to remain one step ahead of their enemies.

But Chewie had a far more personal reason for wanting to take the Viceroy up on his unexpected offer of employment.

He felt a keen sense of affinity with the Organa family, that he owed them some form of repayment for the manner in which they'd spoken out so vociferously and with such conviction against the plight of his homeworld. Too few had possessed the courage to do the same in the years that had passed since the fall of the Republic and subsequent rise of the Empire, too many systems had simply turned away and pleaded ignorance while millions of Wookies had had their liberty so ruthlessly ripped away. But Alderaan had refused to remain idly silent.

Though he'd followed Han into a career that often necessitated them both engaging in somewhat illicit activities, Chewie's honour remained undiminished; if the young princess was in danger, if the Viceroy was prepared to place his trust in Han to protect her, then Chewie was determined to do everything in his own power to ensure that she came to no harm.

Putting aside the business practicalities of the Viceroy's overture, aware that it was one that he and Han could really not afford to turn down given the debt that was lingering over both of their heads, Chewie was adamant that there simply had to be some kind of significance, some meaning, to everything that had transpired over the past few days. Whereas Han would likely dismiss each step in the sequence of events that had brought them to this point as nothing more than coincidental, Chewie was inclined to believe that fate had played at least a small part in charting the course that had ultimately led them both from Coruscant to Alderaan.

As a spiritual being, Chewie was reluctant to completely dismiss the notion that Han's reunion with the princess might have been the orchestration of some higher power, unwilling to blindly accept that there wasn't some measure of destiny and purpose behind it. Whether either of them liked it or not, the smuggler and the senator were now irrevocably linked, connected by a single act of selfless bravery that the Wookie suspected would come to affect their lives in a profound way, irrespective of however they might resist it.

Ladling the stew into two large bowls and balancing them on the crook of each of his long arms, Chewie retrieved the plate of flatbreads he'd baked earlier and carried it all through into the main hold where he found Han already seated at the banquette, slumped morosely over the Dejarik table. Resisting the urge to snap at his partner, to tell him to snap out of his malaise, Chewie set the food down and took his own seat; in order for this discussion to happen, let alone achieve the outcome that he hoped for, Chewie knew that he could not be the one to initiate it.

Aside from Han's muttered thanks for Chewie's culinary efforts, they ate in silence. The distant noise of the waterfall just beyond the hangar, carried through the ship's open hatchway on the gentle night-time breeze, might have contributed to a pleasant atmosphere had the residual tensions of their earlier meeting with the Viceroy and his daughter still not hung so thickly in the air.

"So you really wanna do this, huh?" Han asked after what felt like an interminable standoff. He was tearing a flatbread into pieces, using them to mop up what remained of his stew. "You wanna stick around here, play at being royal security for a while?"

Chewie shrugged nonchalantly, recognising that Han needed to say his piece before he could be engaged in a reasonable conversation.

"I knew the Viceroy would get to you," Han continued. "It's just my damn luck to end up with the softest Wookie in the galaxy for a partner. Y'know, you're the sensible one in this arrangement, the one that's supposed to keep us out of these messes. But the one time I actually want you to be sensible, like I'm being, you start getting these noble ideas that never lead to anything good for either of us...for once, just once, would it really be so hard to think like I do? Why do you always have to be so blasted good? Why do you always have to want to do the right thing, huh?"

Rather than reply, Chewie merely folded his arms across his chest and remained silent, inviting Han to continue if he so wished.

Han was not placated by the Wookie's restraint. "Well I ain't getting dragged into this," he went on, gesturing forcefully to emphasise his stance. "If you wanna stick around here and protect Her Worshipfulness then that's up to you but I haven't got time to waste on that, not when Jabba's probably set every kriffing bounty hunter in the galaxy on me by now, so in the morning I'm getting the hell off this planet and I'm going to find work, real work, 'cause I'm sure as hell not interested in spending any more time around that pain in the ass princess. We clear on that?"

Amidst all of his gesticulating, a piece of glawber root had been projected across the table from the piece of flatbread that Han was still holding and had landed in the fur of Chewie's left arm. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, the Wookie carelessly flicked it away.

"Are you finished?" he asked calmly. "If you have not, could you at least put the bread down so that I do not end up wearing any more of your meal?"

Fixing Chewie with a glare of challenge rather than one of apology, Han popped the piece of bread into his mouth and chewed slowly. Chewie suppressed a sigh, priming himself for yet another battle of wills.

"Now that you have gotten all of that off your chest, maybe we can now discuss this civilly before either of us rush into making any hasty decisions."

"I've already made my mind up and it ain't changing so there's no need for a discussion," Han replied sharply. "Kest, Chewie, you've been nagging at me for months about us needing to focus on paying off this debt, to stop getting distracted. And now we can finally do that, you wanna get us involved in this Rebellion?"

"I am not the one who has been distracted," Chewie snapped. "We could have begun paying off our debt months ago, we might even have paid it all off by now if you had not had us chasing after Bria. And the only reason we are here now is because you managed to get yourself captured by the Rebellion while we were following another one of your blasted leads that never get us anywhere."

"You've got some nerve," intoned Han in a guttural growl that sounded almost more Wookie than human. "In case you forgot, I never asked you to come looking for that woman. And the debt is my debt, not yours, so feel free to stay here if you want while I get around to dealing with it."

"If I have to tell you one more time that it is our debt, I might just hand you over to Jabba myself and be rid of you once and for all."

"You just try it, pal.

Chewie huffed in frustration, annoyed at himself for allowing their exchange to devolve into another petty squabble that would accomplish nothing. Mustering as calm a voice as he could manage in the wake of Han's outburst, he attempted to steer their discussion back in a constructive direction.

"If you really want to get the debt to Jabba settled then it makes sense that we at least consider the Viceroy's offer. He is willing to pay us, Han, it is not as though there is not anything in this deal for us...three months is no time at all, not really, and when they are up we might have earned enough credits to at least start setting things right with Jabba."

"I said no, Chewie."

"Why are you so set against this? It is work, Han, work that we need. What other options do we have? You said it yourself, every two-bit bounty hunter from here to the Unknown Regions is probably looking for us by now; how long can we outrun them all while we try to come up with the credits we owe? We would be safe here at least."

Han leaned in closer, bracing his elbows on the Dejarik table.

"We're smugglers, Furball, not bodyguards. How in all the hells of Corellia are me and you going to keep that princess safe if she's really got the Empire gunning for her, huh?"

"We have both learned a thing or two about staying one step ahead of the Empire over the years." Chewie knew that avoiding Imperial patrols while they were on smuggling assignments was an entirely different proposition to protecting someone that might have been targeted for elimination by the Empire. But he was content for the moment to focus on simply putting forth a compelling enough case for Han to at least consider the Viceroy's offer; the practicalities of how exactly they would ensure the princess' safety could wait until later.

"I really think that you and I can do this," the Wookie murmured in a conciliatory tone. "Even if we did not need the credits, I would still believe that accepting the Viceroy's offer is the right thing to do...and I think you believe that too, no matter how much you might want to play the mercenary."

"Honestly, Chewie, I could care less about doing the right thing. The first rule of life is look out for number one and that's what you and me need to be doing now, not worrying about some stuck up princess and her doomed little insurrection."

Chewie's patience faltered and he was unable to withhold a harsh bark of anger .

"You may think that you are stuck with the softest Wookie in the galaxy," he growled, pointing angrily at his partner as he spoke. "But you are without doubt the most stubborn being I have ever known...I had heard of the stubbornness of Corellians long before I met you, but you really are infuriating."

Before Han could respond, Chewie raised a hand to silence him; the two had known each other for long enough now that he knew exactly what the imminent riposte would be and was in no mood to hear it yet again.

"If you tell me one more time that I am free to leave whenever I want, I promise you that I will space you out of the airlock the next time we go to lightspeed." Seemingly undeterred, Han opened his mouth to reply but Chewie cut him off again. "I mean it, Solo. After everything we have been through together, I have had enough of you telling me that I can leave whenever I say something that you do not want to hear, particularly as you know that I have absolutely no intention of ever going anywhere."

Chewie knew that Han's invitations for him to walk away from their partnership were all bluster, that his loyalty had never and would never be brought into question. And while he knew that resorting to saying such things was merely Han's way of attempting to escape from a discussion that wasn't unfolding as he wanted, Chewie nonetheless felt that he was due a little more respect from his partner; after a decade spent alongside one another, it shouldn't have been beyond them to resolve a disagreement through rational discussion.

Han, for his part, appeared contrite. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze drifting from the surface of the Dejarik table to the technical station, fixing his gaze on anything but the imposing Wookie that was sitting across from him. Chewie remained silent, watching and waiting; there were few things that Han hated more than being called out on his purposeful evasiveness, on his hard-headed refusal to back down even when he was arguing something that he knew made perfect sense.

"I'm sorry," he finally muttered. "I'll stop doing that."

"I would appreciate it if you did."

An awkward silence then descended, during which Han contemplatively ate what remained of his flatbread while Chewie wondered if and how their exchange might now progress. He hadn't expected Han to apologise, to acknowledge his own pettiness without any attempt to excuse it. But Chewie was only too willing to accept that apology and hoped that it was a sign that Han's bad temper had waned.

"I dunno, Chewie," Han said with a heavy sigh, pushing aside his empty bowl and beginning to rhythmically tap the tips of his fingernails against the Dejarik table. "This whole thing is crazy...I've just got a bad feeling about sticking around here, can't shake this hunch that it's only gonna make things worse for us."

"Can things really get any worse? We have been running from Jabba for six months now, the debt we owe him had probably become a Death Mark."

Han chuckled.

"Well, when you put it like that I guess you've got a point." His expression sobered. "But the thing is, handling scum like Jabba is what we know, it's what we've dealt with for the last ten years. But the Rebellion, the Empire, the princess...they're not like Jabba. What business do we have getting involved with any of that, huh? We're free, we go where we wanna go and do what we wanna do...why give that up?"

"Because we are not free Han, not anymore."

There had been occasions in recent months, like this one, when Chewie had wondered whether Han was either in denial about the severity of their plight with Jabba or simpy had yet fully comprehend the increasing peril they were both facing. He reasoned that perhaps the situation with Bria, Han's preoccupation with finding her, had simply blinded him to everything but his search for answers. But the Wookie was in no doubt that the walls were now closing in around them both, that there would soon be no place left for them to hide from Jabba's wrath.

"We could leave in the morning, turn down the Viceroy's offer and look for work elsewhere," he pressed on. "But we both know that work is not going to be easy to find now - you and Zadasso hate each other so we cannot go to him, the Jarvin Clan will have nothing to with us while we are in debt to Jabba, the Vannolts will never trust us again after that stunt that you and Lando pulled the last time we did a job for them. We really do not have any options left beyond the one that the Viceroy is offering... we are living on borrowed time, Han, you know that as well as I do."

"And if the Viceroy was asking us to run supplies for his revolution then I might have been interested," Han retorted. "But protecting that princess is only gonna brings us more problem that we don't need. Fact is Chewie, Organa is going on blind faith with this plan and that's not how I work."

"That is not true, I think he sees this situation in the same way that I do."

"And what way is that?"

"I just find it difficult to believe that everything that has happened over the past few days can be put down purely to happenstance," Chewie answered. "I know that you will disagree, that you will hate me saying this, but I think we were brought here for a reason."

"I knew you'd say that," Han groaned, closing his eyes and allowing his head to fall back and rest on the worn leather of the banquette.

"And perhaps I am right to do so. Think about it Han, think about the significance of you meeting the Viceroy so soon after meeting his daughter on Coruscant, of the circumstances of it all. You cannot just dismiss everything as simple coincidence, no matter how much you might want to."

"Yeah, actually I can, 'cause that's exactly what it is. This ain't destiny Chewie, there's not some mystical power pulling the strings here."

" Fatalism is not the same as mysticism," Chewie replied simply.

"Call it whatever you want, it doesn't matter," Han snapped. "Fate didn't bring us here - Bria did, all of this goes back to her; she was the reason I went to Coruscant, she was the reason why Javek gave me the coordinates to Ranolta when we were on Tresta Outpost. Fates got nothing to do with this, we ended up here 'cause of Bria, it's that simple."

"Well after all of the problems that she has caused us both, maybe this is fate's way of making amends for Bria's choices and actions, of giving us one last chance to move on from what she did." Chewie leaned in closer to the table imploring Han to recognise this opportunity for what it was. "You promised me back on Tresta that you would be finished with her after Ranolta, that you wanted to move on from her...well, what better way is there to do that than by ridding ourselves of this debt? The only reason we owe those credits to Jabba is because we took a risk in trying to earn back the money that Bria stole from us...when we repay that debt, there will be nothing left to tie us to her."

That, in Chewie's mind, was an important factor in whatever decision they now arrived at. Given that there seemed no real likelihood of them ever finding Bria, he wanted to excise all traces of her from their lives; for as long as they remained in debt to Jabba, they were bound to Bria, haunted by the consequences of their betrayal at her hands.

Though Han had promised to now abandon his search for her, if he were to ever completely move on from the pain that Bria had inflicted on him then Chewie knew that they would have to sever this last remaining link to her.

"Just give this a chance," the Wookie pleaded. "I really think that we can make this work, Cub."

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore," Han grumbled. "Makes me feel like a damn kid that's done something wrong whenever you do."

"Convincing you to see sense is the only thing more challenging than stopping my son from behaving as recklessly as you whenever I tell him about some of the ridiculous situations that you have gotten us into over the years...I suppose that side of your character brings out some of my paternal instincts," Chewie said wistfully.

"Y'know, I figure we're due a stopover on Kashyyyk pretty soon," Han replied, grabbing the opportunity to change the subject of their discussion. "It's been a while since you last saw your family."

Chewie bowed his head in grateful acceptance of Han's offer.

Han's willingness, that sometimes bordered on eagerness, to ensure that Chewie maintained contact with his family had long been one of the cornerstones of both their friendship and business partnership. He had never been under any obligation to be so accommodating; when they'd first met, Chewie had certainly harboured no expectations that the brash and seemingly insular Corellian was capable of such empathy. But Han had always been adamant that he would not be the cause of any estrangement between Chewie and his family and so insisted that they visit Kashyyyk whenever circumstances allowed, having found something of a surrogate home and family of his own on the planet.

The last time they'd ventured to Kashyyyk, it had been in the immediate aftermath of Bria's betrayal and Chewie was only too happy to welcome any opportunity to see his wife again, to see how much his son had grown. But he was prepared to wait just a little while longer to do so.

"I would like that," he said. "And we can go to Kashyyyk in three months, once we have rid ourselves of this blasted debt and are free to finally get on with our lives."

Han grimaced.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked.

"Not this time," Chewie answered, shaking his head. "I cannot force you to do anything and whether or not we accept the Viceroy's offer will ultimately be your decision. But I will not pretend that I do not want to do this...in truth, I feel that I owe it to the Viceroy and the little princess to do this."

"Why do you think you owe them anything? You only met them a couple of hours ago."

"Because of what they have done for Kashyyyk," replied Chewie. "It takes great courage to speak out against the Empire, to speak up for those of us that have had our own voices silenced. Three months of service is a small price to pay in gratitude for what they have done on behalf of Wookies across the galaxy...it is beings like them that give me hope that my son will not have to endure any of the things that I did before you and I met."

"And I get that, Chewie, I really do." Han scrubbed his face wearily with his hand. "Problem is, I know you too well. You got too big a heart pal, you'll start out wanting to help Organa and his daughter but then you'll let yourself get dragged into their Rebellion and three months from now you'll be telling me you want to stick around here to fight their war for them."

"We are not being asked to fight a war or join the Rebel Alliance, Han, the Viceroy just wants us to keep his daughter safe...a father is asking for our help, is prepared to trust us to protect someone that is so precious to him...if we refused and something then happened to the princess, I am not sure I would be able to live with myself...perhaps you are right and we will not be able to make a difference if the Empire really does mean to do her harm, but I am still ready to do everything that I can to prevent anyone from hurting her."

Han shifted uneasily in his seat but Chewie could sense his partner's resolve beginning to wane. Their disagreements often ran this course, one where Han's initial stubbornness and bluster would subside enough that they could begin to settle any discord. Chewie knew better than anyone else that Han was too principled a person, too good a person, to simply refuse and walk away from a favour such as the one that Viceroy Organa had asked of them; even if there was no financial reward on offer, Chewie still suspected that Han would have done the right thing, as he so often did.

But having navigated their exchange so carefully, having reached a point where it seemed as though they were now at least close to an agreement, Chewie was wary of overplaying his hand and undoing the progress that had been made.

So he waited, again, for Han to initiate the next step.

"You're right," the Corellian finally conceded. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right, 'specially about us needing the money to get Jabba off our backs." He scratched the back of his head irritably, visibly struggling to vocalise his next line of thought. "It's just...she's just so...mouthy."

That caught Chewie off guard.

"Please try not to call Princess Organa that in anyone else's company," he admonished with a low growl, by now painfully accustomed to Han's lack of propriety. "She is not 'mouthy', as you put it, in any case, she is...spirited. And it is not like you to be intimidated so easily."

"What the hell are you talking about? Who said I'm intimidated by her?"

"That is what it seems like from where I am sitting," replied Chewie wryly, folding his long arms behind his head and smirking. "I thought you would enjoy the challenge of trying to keep pace with someone who seems to be just as smart-mouthed as you are. Or is this particular challenge one that you already know you cannot win?"

"You just watch your mouth, pal," warned Han good-naturedly. "I ain't afraid of no challenge...not that Her Worship would be a challenge. She's probably just used to always being told whatever she wants to hear, never met someone like me who just calls things exactly as I see 'em."

Chewie, who considered himself to be an impeccable judge of character, recognised that there was far more to Princess Leia Organa than Han was prepared to acknowledge, although that was unsurprising given the somewhat contentious back-and-forth that the Corellian had engaged in with her earlier that evening.

"It was a very brave and selfless thing that you did back on Coruscant," he said earnestly. Chewie knew that Han would continue to brush off any praise for his actions in going to the princess' aid but their venture to Alderaan and encounter with the Viceroy and his daughter had given the Wookie a far greater appreciation of his captain's good deed. "You are a good man, Han...perhaps not the easiest one to get along with at times, but I am truly proud and grateful to be your friend."

"Kest, Chewie, ease up on all that sentimental stuff. You trying to make me cry or something?"

Though Han had brushed off the compliment with all of his typical bravado, Chewie knew that he would nonetheless take the words to heart and appreciate them.

"I'm not saying I wanna be called a hero or anything," Han went on, with something of a bitter tone now, "but you'd think Her Royal Highnessness would be a bit more grateful for what I did."

"She is very grateful, I have no doubt of that," warbled Chewie gently. "It seemed to me that the princess was simply taken by surprise by everything that happened earlier and lashed out...so she is not unlike you in that respect."

"Yeah well, the thought of spending three months around her ain't exactly an appealing one."

"Well, the Viceroy is not employing us to become friends with the princess. But you never know, perhaps with time and patience you might both find that you have enough in common that you will be able to get along with one another."

"I wouldn't count on that, buddy," said Han blithely.

"So, you are going to accept the Viceroy's offer then?"

It certainly seemed to Chewie that they had now found enough common ground to move forward in agreement Having worked through his initial anger and frustration at their current situation, Han appeared to have reconciled himself to the unavoidable truth that a potential solution to all of their problems was now at hand.

Not that he seemed willing to openly admit that; Han sat in silence for a prolonged moment, his mouth twisted in thought as he considered Chewie's question.

"I'll tell you what," he finally said, "I'll think it over tonight and decide in the morning. And I promise, I'll make the right decision for the both of us... deal?"

Chewie nodded his agreement and watched as Han gathered together their now-empty dinner dishes and carried them through to the ship's galley.

While Han precoccupied himself with cleaning up, Chewie reclined in his seat at the banquette and silently congratulated himself on what he felt had been a well-played part in the evening's exchange. Though Han was trying to maintain his visage of evasive reluctance, Chewie knew that a critical breakthrough had been made in their earlier impasse and was confident now that the two of them would be spending considerably more time on Alderaan in the months that lay ahead.

It remained to be seen whether their commitment to protecting the princess would lead to them being dragged into a war; in that moment, Chewie was content simply to have won this particular battle of wills with his partner.