CHAPTER 10:
Leaning his cheek on Leia Organ's head, Han Solo closed his hazel eyes, and allowed the steady vibrations of the Millennium Falcon's hyper drive engine penetrate his body.
You survived, His words to her. I wish I hadn't, Leia's response to his words.
I hate myself, Leia's words echoed in his mind. I feel so alone.
He didn't know how to respond to her statements, such hopeless words from someone who seemed so optimistic and idealistic and in control most of the time. Of course, that was when other people were around. Han knew that the princess endured a lot at the hands of Darth Vader—she would never tell him the complete story, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know—she also had lost almost everyone who cared about her and loved her, lost her home, and her identity. He knew that she was hurting inside, but he never imagined how deep her guilt and pain went. Leia's tough-as-nails, arrogant, royal and optimistic dedication to the Alliance that's what she projected to others, and that's what they saw. That's what he usually saw. And though he had caught glimpses of hurt from afar when she interacted with the High Command and encouragement to wide-eyed soldiers—some practically children, like Luke—Han had never really taken the time to see past her exterior persona, hadn't really thought of what she had endured.
The princess held in her pain well; she held herself together with a will that not even the life-hardened smuggler possessed. Of course, Leia was trained to hide her emotions. And then, in that moment, Han realized: she kept herself busy to avoid dealing with her emotions, perhaps trying to make up for naming Dantooine as the rebel base.
Han let go of her hand and wrapped that arm around her, holding her in a full embrace. To his surprise, she embraced him back. His chest remained dry, so he knew she wasn't crying. Just like Leia to hold in her emotions even though she had just shared her deepest secret with him. She didn't trust him, but she had only known him for a short time. Han wasn't sure if he even trusted her.
Leia kept her large brown eyes closed tight, holding on to her tears. She wasn't going to feel sorry for herself. And the last thing she wanted was for Han to feel sorry for her. Or Luke. Or anyone else. So why did she just share things with Han that she never intended to share with anyone? How did he get things out of her so easily?
It was dangerous to reveal what she had to someone she barely knew. Maybe she did so because he was planning to leave and would take her secrets with him. A wave of sadness washed over her, and Leia found that she didn't want him to leave, maybe because she had shared her deepest darkest sin, her fears with him. Leia had wanted to tell someone the things she told Han, but no one would understand, and she feared shattering in front of people who depended on to fulfill her duties, be the "Face of the Rebellion", though she hated playing that part. It was a lie; that wasn't her, but that was what people wanted her to be. She would do anything for the Alliance.
After talking to Han, Leia felt like a weight was lifted off of her. Well, not completely off of her, but enough to let her breathe.
Chewbacca appeared in the medical station's doorway, and growled and gurawfed. Han felt Leia pull away, and he let her go.
"She cut her finger," Han explained as he took Leia's injured hand and held it up for Chewie to see.
The Wookie burrayed and groaned.
"He's right." Han let go of her hand. "You have more than one boo boo."
The princess pushed herself to her feet. "I'm fine. All I want is a shower."
Her tone betrayed none of her earlier emotions. It was as if she could just turn her feelings on and off at whim. Then again, Princess Leia was a politician, royalty. She probably had been trained to hide her true feelings at a very young age. Although that thought made Han a little sad, he still found this skill of hers impressive.
But then Han realized that she had revealed her emotions to him. Leia let her pain leak into her demeanor as she cared for his wound. Was it because of facing Major Bulue that brought up her pent up emotions? Was it that he was sensitive to her moods when no one else seemed to be (and what did that mean)? She had talked to him about how she lost her identity earlier on this trip. Did she just feel safe talking to him, certain that he wouldn't reveal their conversations, safe because he would be leaving soon? Or just safe with him.
"Chewie's gonna wash out your cuts."
Chewie growled in agreement.
"No, Captain." Leia started for the door and then stopped in the doorway. "Chewie, get Han into that bed and make sure he stays there. And put that oxygen mask back on."
The Wookie confirmed her command. He went over to Han and helped the smuggler to his feet.
"You're gonna let her tell you what to do, You big furry oaf?"
"Gruuraaawwh."
"Shut up." Han grumbled.
Chewie rumbled and rahhed, addressing Leia.
"I don't think she wants to sleep in your hair-covered hammock."
The Wookie put his hand on his hip and spoke to Han.
"I was goin' to, you furry oaf!" Han's voice then softened. "Your Worshipfulness-ness can take my cabin since I'm stuck here."
Leia smiled at Han, "Thank you, Your Captain-ness-ness." She turned and started out the door.
"Hey, Princess?"
She looked over her shoulder.
"Good night."
"Good night, Captain." Leia said and disappeared through the door.
As she walked down the hallway she came upon Luke.
"How's Ha—"
Leia hugged the aspiring Jedi and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"—n doin'…" Luke touched the spot where the princess had placed her lips and then looked down at the permacrete dust outline of her body that she left behind on him. "What was that for?"
Leia didn't turn around. She just continued down the hall.
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"Hey, Chew—" Luke dropped his voice. "How's Han?"
Chewbacca held up the half-filled vial of painkillers.
"Ha. The only way to get him to stay in here, huh?"
Chewie quietly gurawfed.
"I'll catch him when he's awake. I'm glad he's doin' okay."
"I'm awake," Han slurred and removed the oxygen mask. Chewie reprimanded him, but Han ignored his best friend. "How's my baby?"
"We got hit a couple of times—"
"At least three times," Han countered.
Luke rolled his eyes. "If you already know, how come your askin'?"
Han tried to sit up, but Chewie pushed him back down with a grunt.
"Alright, alright," he addressed Chewie. Then he returned his attention to the kid. "Felt like you were doin' some fancy flying."
"Don't worry. I didn't push she too far. I didn't want to ruin this bucket of bolts."
Han's expression melted into mock hurt. "How can you say that about the ship that saved your life uh….how many times?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know I owe you one."
"More than one."
Luke's large blue eyes traveled to the bandage on Han's side. "Looks like Leia put you back together. Hopefully, she got the pieces in the right places."
Chewie chortled, and Han gave him a dirty look.
"It was good Leia was there," Luke conceded. "I don't think anyone else would've known what to do." He bit the inside of his cheek as the thought of what could have happened to his friend.
"Yeah."
The kid sighed. "You were right in insisting Leia be a part of this mission."
"I knew what I was doin'." Then Solo's eyes dropped to the floor. "You were right about her recklessness. Maybe I shouldn't have—"
Luke cut him off, "No, it was the right thing. Don't second guess yourself." He sighed, "I think she did need this."
Chewie added his thoughts to the conversation.
"Yeah, either way, she proved that she's more than a diplomat and princess. Maybe the High Command will let her do more than recruit and give speeches." And a wave of concern washed over Han.
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Instead of heading straight to the refresher, Leia Organa went to the lounge. She wanted to make sure everything worked right with the microchip. Tycho and Redge were busy on their data pad, and Narra, Wedge, and Hobbie were relaxing around the holochess table drinking some Corellian ale they dug up from the galley. Leia hesitated at the entrance, summing up her courage. They had made their feelings clear about her presence on this mission; she wasn't wanted. Maybe this was a bad idea.
Wedge looked up. "Hey, princess."
The others acknowledged her presence.
"I just came to see if everything we needed was on the microchip." Leia walked over to Redge and Tycho. She smiled when she looked at their data pads. They were playing the most popular video game in the galaxy.
Redge and Tycho sat up straight. "You copied everything the High Command wanted and then some," Redge reported. "No wonder it took so long for you guys to get out of there."
"We wouldn't have another chance to break into that computer," she shrugged.
Tycho's looked up into her eyes. "There was an encrypted file. It didn't look like a virus, but we couldn't crack it."
Leia nodded. "Leave it be. The High Command will take care of it."
Tycho and Redge gave the princess a confused look. There were other techs working for the Alliance, but they were known as two of the best.
"Hey, Princess." Wedge held up his glass. "Why don't you join us for a celebratory drink?"
She took a step back.
"Come'n," Hobbie beckoned to her with his hand. "There's plenty of Corellian Ale to go around, Your Highness."
"Did you break into Han's stash?" she smiled impishly.
"Don't tell 'im."
"Oh, I think he'll notice on his own."
"So how about that drink?" Narra asked.
Okay." Leia walked over to the holochess table and squeezed in next to Wedge. Hobbie twisted off the top of the bottle and handed it to her.
"Thanks." She took a swig of ale. "It's Leia."
Hobbie's smile widened. "Leia. I never thought I'd be callin' royalty by their first name. You're a lot different than I expected you to be."
The princess took another sip of beer. "I'm not much different than you."
Hobbie started to say something about growing up with riches and palaces, but the downcast look on the princess's face stifled his comments.
Narra, whose feet were resting on the holochess table, tilted her head. "So where did you learn to shoot like that?"
"Carl—General Reikken taught me when I was a kid." Her large brown eyes looked back into the past, and she smiled. "He would teach me when my father was off on diplomatic missions, senate business, state matters." She tipped the bottle to her mouth before continuing. "I think my father wouldn't have much liked the general teaching me to handle a blaster. Of course, he Reikken wasn't a general then. He was a confidant of my father. He spent a lot of time with me when my father was away." Leia shrugged, and she kept her eyes on her bottle of ale. "I don't know. He taught me a lot of things. It was like the general knew I'd need to know how to shoot, know other things, because he knew what was coming."
"That was lucky for me," Narra conceded and took a gulp of ale.
"So where'd you learn to shimmy across a tightrope?" Hobbie asked.
The princess laughed. "That," she said with a smile that touched her eyes, "was from sneaking out at night. There were a lot of obstacles to scale and climb to escape, not to mention the palace guards." Again, her eyes went far away, and she stared at the table. "There were a few guards that would turn a blind eye. But there was one," she shook her head and smiled again, "I got in so much trouble when he caught me."
"You snuck out at night?" Hobbie's eyes widened.
"Didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I…I wasn't royalty."
Her eyes fell to her bottle and she twisted it around in her hands. "I was rather difficult as a child."
"I used to sneak out at night, too," Wedge said to lighten the mood. "Boy, did I get in trouble when I was caught."
Leia looked at him, and the Rogue pilot shared his childhood experiences. Soon the rest of the Rogue Squadron were sharing their idiot child exploits and laughing as they downed their Corellian Ale. The princess was enjoying their company and stayed for a couple more drinks.
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Luke entered the lounge. "Have you guys seen Leia?"
"Leia," Hobbie reveled in being so informal with the princess's name, "was here drinking with us, but she left to take a shower."
"Now there's an image in my head…" Narra wickedly smiled.
Luke rolled his eyes while the others laughed. They certainly were getting comfortable around the princess, talking about her like they would any other attractive woman.
"She was drinking with you guys?"
"Why not? We're good company."
"It's just that," Luke stopped. "Never mind."
"I think she was gonna turn in after a shower," Wedge informed Luke.
"Thanks."
Luke walked down the hallway toward the crew quarters but then caught movement in Han's cabin. He poked his head through the open door. There he found Leia wearing her pink T-shirt and flower-splattered pink shorts with thick white socks. She had her head bent forward, her hair pulled over her head, and a handful of her tresses in her hand. She was ferociously working on the myriad of knots with a large paddle brush.
"Hey, Leia."
She stopped brushing, pushed her hair back out of her face, and smiled at Luke. "Aren't you tired?"
"Nah, I'm feelin' a bit restless." Skywalker leaned against the doorjamb.
"The adrenaline's still in your blood."
"I suppose so," he concurred. "You?"
Leia pulled a handful of hair over her shoulder and continued to roughly work through the knots. "I think I'm coming down."
"Want help with that?" Luke stepped into the room.
"I wish Han had a decent mirror." Leia held out the brush to him.
The princess scooted back on Han's bed and crossed her legs. Luke bit his lip, walked over to the bed, and took the brush from her hand. She pushed her hair behind her so that it hung down her back. Luke climbed onto the bed and spread his legs out behind her so that he was seated in an optimal position to brush her hair.
"I don't think I've brushed hair this long," Luke said as he started at the top of her head, pulled the brush through her hair, and stopped just above the tangled ends. "Actually, I've never brushed anyone else's hair before."
"I've been thinking of cutting it. It gets in the way sometimes and is a pain to brush out after I wash it."
"Nah." Luke took a piece of her locks, held it above the knots, and used his fingers to work through the mess. "I think your hair is beautiful."
"Thanks." She pressed her lips together, and although she appreciated his compliment, it somehow made her miss home.
A comforting silence fell between them as Luke gently worked through the knots with his fingers. Once he loosened them, he used the brush to smooth her hair out.
"Luke," Leia broke the silence. "Don't tell anyone about the new Death Star the Empire is building."
"I won't."
"I've encrypted the information on the microchip. Even Tycho and Redge don't know about it."
"Wow. They can't crack it?"
"I had a tech tutor who was once a brilliant hacker. I know a bit about computers and other technical gadgets than I let on." She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.
"Why so secretive about the information on the new Death Star?"
"It'll bring down morale." Leia turned back around, closed her large brown eyes, and enjoyed the brush running through her hair. "How do you think everyone would feel if they found out that after we—you—"
"And Han."
"Right." She continued, "you two destroyed the Death Star only to learn another one is being built to replace it?"
Luke untangled the last of her knots. "Pretty bad."
"Yeah."
"We'll just destroy it again."
Leia chuckled. "Yeah, like that was easy the first time." Then she sobered. "They discussed the changes they were going to make. It won't be as vulnerable as the first one. It definitely won't be as easy to destroy. I just wish they had the entire plans in that computer."
Luke ran the brush through her hair again and again as he thought about her words. "It's like we take one step forward and a hundred back."
"Yeah." She looked down at her feet. "The nature of fighting an oppressive Empire." She paused for a moment and then quietly said, "We'll probably have more losses than victories before all this ends."
Luke's free hand smoothed out her hair as he pulled the brush through it. "But we'll win."
Ever the optimistic, Leia thought. She used to be that optimistic too. She used to believe that good always trumped evil. Now…now with everything that she had gone through, all that she lost, and discovering a new Death Star was being built, she wasn't feeling so optimistic anymore. At least there wasn't anything more the Empire could take from her.
"Leia?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry about….what I said about you endangerin' the mission," Luke apologized. "I was wrong. You didn't endanger the mission. You did the opposite."
"I've forgotten it already," she quietly said, though she hadn't because there was some truth to what Luke had said. She had been reckless.
"I don't think it would've been successful if it weren't for you."
"I don't know about that."
"Han would've died." Luke inhaled and exhaled to expel that thought.
"He's like a rencugat. Nine lives." She laughed, lightening the mood.
"Yeah, but how many lives has he already wasted?" Luke joined in her revelry. "Okay, all finished," Luke announced and handed her the brush.
Leia ran her hands through her hair, looked over her shoulder, and gazed into his bright blue ones. "You did a good job. I should have you do my hair every day."
"A pilot for the Rogue Squadron and a hairdresser. I'd be the laughing stock of the Alliance." He grinned.
"I suppose so," Leia laughed. And then she sobered and turned away from him. Maybe there was more the Empire could take from her.
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When Chewie fell asleep, Solo climbed out of the bed and gingerly made his way to the refresher. He programmed the temperature and speed of the water, stepped into the cramped shower, and turned it on. His muscles began to relax under the steady stream of hot water, and bracing himself with a hand against the wall, he let the water fall on his bent head and drip off his face. The hot water turned his skin pink and pound against his shoulders before it flowed down the rest of his body. The painkiller was wearing off, and the pain and fatigue were wearing him down. He knew he should be following Leia's orders, but he just felt too restless to stay in bed.
Leia. She certainly knew how to give orders, but she sucked at following them. How many times did she almost get captured? How many times did she almost die? And it would have been his fault. He was the one who insisted on her coming just because he didn't like the way Dodonna and the High Command were forcing her to be someone she no longer identified with. But Han was right when he told Dodonna that the princess was capable of holding her own and that he trusted her quick-on-her-feet thinking when things go bad after escaping the Death Star with her. And she was an integral part of the mission; he was right about that.
But her presence affected his leadership. Han soaped up his body. How many times did he put Leia's safety first over the mission? He endangered six lives to protect one. He endangered Luke.
Luke. The kid had definitely had grown on him. For a farm boy—hell, for a soldier—Luke excelled in combat whether it was in the cockpit of an X-Wing or on the battlefront. As far as Han knew, the kid had no experience in either before he joined the Alliance. Yeah, he bragged about bombing womprats, but he probably wasn't bragging. Luke was farm-boy honest. So he was good at bombing womprats, but there's a huge difference bombing womprats and piloting an X-Wing in battle. Luke did escape the Death Star, and the High Command had faith that the kid would become a Jedi one day (how? Han wasn't sure, but he didn't believe in the Force anyway so he didn't give it much thought), but to put someone as green and inexperienced as Luke in the cockpit of an X-Wing to fight off TIE fighters and blow up Death Stars, the High Command certainly didn't have his friend's best interests in their minds.
His friend, Luke. Yes, Han did see the kid as a friend. Solo cupped his hands and splashed the hot water on his face. It had been a little over a month, and he considered the kid his friend. That wasn't like the smuggler at all. He didn't look out for other people than himself and Chewie, and he definitely didn't risk his life helping anyone rescue princesses or blowing up giant space stations. Yet Han did. There was just something about that naïve kid that made Han want to protect the kid like he wanted to protect. What was it about those two? Was it because of their shared experience escaping the Death Star?
Was that a mistake?
Han sighed and rinsed off. He shut off the water, rubbed a towel over his head and body, and wrapped it around his waist. Attachments were dangerous, especially in his kind of work. He stepped out of the refresher and cringed in pain. He pulled the bandage back and looked down at his wound. He studied the neatly stitched cut and admired Leia's handiwork. She certainly was skilled. He placed his hand on the bulkhead and used it to support his weight as he went to his cabin.
Covered by only a towel, Han Solo entered the darkened room careful to not make a sound. On his bed, Leia slept, and he didn't want to wake her. He didn't think she'd appreciate his current state of dress—or maybe she would—Han smiled to himself, but he needed to get his clothes. He hobbled over to his closet, and the door slid open. Solo reached up onto the top shelf and retrieved a shirt, and he pulled his pants and underthings from the two shelves below the highest one. Leaning against the closest doorjamb, Han grabbed his underwear and undershirt. Once he put those one—not without pain—he slipped an over-washed white shirt off of a hanger. He then walked over to the chair at his desk and sat down to get dressed the rest of the way.
Before easing himself into the chair, he pulled on his brown pants with the yellow blood stripe running down the legs, and then he sat down to put his shirt on. Han took a breather for a moment, wished Leia would help him put it on like she helped him take it off in the medical station, and then decided he might as well get it over with. He shoved his arms through the arm holes, gritted his teeth, and began lifting it over his head. He stopped when his hazel eyes fell on Leia.
The princess's chest rose and fell in rhythmic pattern, never straying from that pattern. One hand rested on her stomach and the other rested next to her head. The light coming from the open door emphasized the red and purple highlights and lowlights of her brown hair that hung over her left shoulder. His hazel eyes fell onto her breast that strained against her pink T-shirt. His eyes slipped down to her where the T-shirt rode up exposing the pallid skin of her stomach. Han's eyes traveled back to her face that was relaxed in sleep.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
Han pulled on his shirt the rest of the way and looked to the open doorway. There, Luke was standing with his hands in his pockets and shoulder leaning against the doorjamb.
"You'll wake her," Solo warned as he eased the shirt over his head.
"Nah. She won't wake up right now. Her dreams are peaceful."
Han glanced at the princess and then looked at Luke. "How do you know?"
Luke shrugged. "I dunno. Just do."
The smuggler kept his hazel eyes on the kid for a moment. How could he be so certain about that? He turned back to look at the princess. She hadn't moved when he came into the room and hadn't changed position when Luke spoke.
"She looks so peaceful sleeping like that."
"Yeah," Han stood and strapped his holster onto his hips and secured it around his leg. "And young." He moved closer to Luke and sat at the edge of the desk.
"She's only nineteen," Luke informed him. "Same age as me."
Han's brow furrowed. "Nineteen? Really?"
"We share the same birthday."
"Huh." Han was still processing her age. "I woulda never have guessed she was that young."
"Yeah," Luke tipped his head to the right as he studied the princess. "She's been through a lot, and she has a lot of responsibility for someone her age."
Solo's eyes perused the scrapes and bruises on Leia's arms, her face. There was one distinctive bruise on her upper right arm that was the shape of a hand. He pressed his lips together before saying, "I shouldn't have grabbed her so hard."
Skywalker's eyes fell to the same bruise. "She scared you. She scared me," he reflected. "Your anger was your way of expressing your fear."
"I hurt her." Han felt guilty.
"She won't hold that against you," Luke reassured his older friend.
Han glanced at Luke. The kid wore a closed-mouth smile, and his large blue eyes reflected adoration as he gazed at the princess. Han asked, "You fallin' for her?"
Luke's closed-mouth smile stretched wider. "Maybe." Still smiling, he said, "I don't think she feels that way about me."
"I dunno. She seems pretty close to you."
"I guess you can say we are." Luke looked at the smuggler. "You?"
"What?" Han asked, though he knew the answer.
"Fallin' for her?" There was mischief in the kid's eyes.
Han looked upon the princess for a moment before he looked away. "Nah. But I can see how it's easy to fall for her."
"Mmmm," Luke's side-glanced at Solo, and openly smiled.
Han looked at him. "What?" There was a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Nothing." Skywalker's eyebrows rose in innocence.
Han went to Leia, pulled down her shirt over her exposed belly, and covered her with the blanket. As if Luke knew Han was going to leave the room, Luke stood up straight and back out of the doorway. Han stepped out of the door and was about to palm it close.
"No. Leave it open," Luke instructed. "She doesn't like being alone behind closed doors."
Han looked back over his shoulder at Leia. "Can't blame her."
Solo and Skywalker walked down the hall toward the cockpit. Luke noticed how Han occasionally used the bulkhead to hold himself up, and he fought the urge to help Solo walk. The kid imagined the pain the smuggler was feeling; Han's wound was serious enough to scare him. And Leia, though she hid it well, all business when she ministered to him. Perhaps Luke was more afraid than Leia because Leia was afraid. If she wasn't there….Luke didn't want to think about it.
Skywalker had come to think of Han as a good friend, perhaps his best friend since Biggs died battling the Death Star. Luke didn't feel connected to anyone in the galaxy anymore, or even with anyone in the Alliance—save for Leia—and that made him feel alone. His connection to Leia made him feel less alone, but his connection to Han was just as important to the aspiring Jedi as his connection to Leia was. Luke knew less about the smuggler's life than he did Leia's, butt Luke knew Han from his actions, from his words that often contradicted each other.
Luke smiled to himself as he thought about how Han agreed to help Luke rescue Leia. Yeah, the smuggler seemed more interested in the reward than the princess herself, but Han had to know Luke couldn't guarantee that reward. Luke believed Solo would have eventually agreed to help him because Han wouldn't have let Luke go off by himself. And Luke was determined to rescue the princess.
And then there was the attack on Death Star, a suicide mission Solo said. Yet, Han came to Luke's rescue. Since then, the smuggler had kept telling Luke that he was going to leave any day to pay off Jabba. But Han was still here after a little more than standard month, and Luke got the feeling Han would be around even longer.
Yes, Luke considered Han as his best friend even though Han may not feel the same. The kid was just glad that Ben Kenobi picked Chewbacca and Solo as their pilot to Alderaan.
When they reached the cockpit, Han took his usual seat, and carefully propped his feet up on the control panel, folded his hands on his stomach, and leaned back to take the pressure off of his wound. Luke settled into the large co-pilot's seat, pulled one leg up to rest on its edge, and letting the other one lay flat on the chair. He rested one elbow on his propped up knee.
"Aren't you tired?" Han asked.
"Nah. You?"
"I couldn't stand being in that medical bay any longer, and I let Leia have my cabin."
They sat in silence for a while as they watched the stars streak by. The bright blue light filled the cockpit and bathed their faces.
Luke broke the silence. "Leia loves watching the stars when we're at light speed."
Han rubbed the scar on his chin with his forefinger. "You hang out with her a lot." It was a question as much as a statement.
Luke shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. When she not busy with High Command business or I'm not off training or doing recon missions. So maybe not a lot."
"What do you two do?" Han asked. "Play Sabaac?"
Luke chuckled. "No. Usually we talk or just sit there in silence. When I'm on watch duty, she'll come up into the tower and just hang out with me, sometimes not saying anything." Luke reflected for a moment. "Sometimes I think she wants to say something but can't. Anyhow, it makes watch duty go a lot faster even when we don't talk."
"Hmm…" Han furrowed his brow.
"She and I have a lot in common," Luke explained. "I may not have lost my entire world, but I kinda did."
"How'd you get involved with that old man?"
"Ben Kenobi," Luke corrected.
Han rolled his eyes and rephrased his question, "How'd you get involved with Ben Kenobi?"
Luke looked down at the console. "My uncle bought Threepio and Artoo from the Jawas. Artoo convinced me to take off his restraining bolt."
"A droid convinced you?"
"Yeah, I know. He's not like any other droid I've worked with," Luke chuckled. "Artoo was carrying Leia's message to Ben and ran off to find him. Threepio and I searched for him, and I was almost killed by the Sandpeople. Ben saved my life."
Luke paused for a moment as he recollected the memory. "Ben scared them off. I don't exactly know how." Luke's voice quieted. "Ben knew my father. He gave me my father's lightsaber." Luke went silent.
"So you decided to follow him to Alderaan?" Han asked.
"No. I was just going to take him to Mos Eisley." The kid inhaled. "We came across the Jawas that sold my uncle the droids. They had been killed by storm troopers. The storm troopers…they traced the droids back to my home. I found…." His voice quieted. "I found the moisture farm destroyed and my uncle and aunt….burned. I never knew my real parents, but my aunt and uncle gave me the best they could. They loved me, and I loved them. When they were killed….I lost everything I knew."
"Like Leia," Han interjected.
"Yeah. Maybe that's why we naturally fell into a friendship. We could understand how each other felt." Luke looked back up at the stars. "Anyhow, after that happened, There was nothing left for me on Tatooine. That's why I decided to go with Ben, join the rebellion."
"I'm sorry." Han reflected on Luke's story. He suddenly became very angry at the Empire for taking everything from the kid and pushing him to risk his life in a rebellion that was doomed to fail. "What would you have done if all that didn't happen?"
Luke frowned. "I'd probably be still toiling on the moisture farm. I wanted to join the Academy like Biggs, but my uncle always said he needed me on the farm and always promised next season. Next season, I don't think he had any intention of letting me go off to the Academy."
"That was a good thing," Han mumbled as he reflected on his experience of his life in the Academy, how he saved Chewbacca from slavery and lost his commission. The horrors he witness as an officer in the Academy…it was best Luke's uncle refused to let him go.
"A good thing?" Luke asked
Han came up with an answer. "You'd be fighting for the Empire."
"I would have left to join the rebellion after I was educated. Like Biggs"
As if that would be so easy, Han thought. Luke hadn't seen the ugliness of war. He still had ideas and optimism. "Guess you ended up where you wanted to be."
"Guess so."
The door of the cockpit slid open, and there appeared Leia.
"What are you doing up?" Han asked. And then he looked into her sleepy eyes. Bad dream.
"I could ask you the same," she tilted her head, jutted out her hip, and put her fist on that said hip.
"Good point."
Leia raised an eyebrow and then yawned. "I got enough rest. I'm anxious to get back to the base."
Luke frowned. She didn't look awake to him. He had the feeling her dreams turned sour.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Just watching the stars," Han answered.
Leia nodded. Luke scooted over in Chewie's large co-pilot's seat. "Come join us."
The princess padded over to Chewbacca's chair. She sat down next to Luke, pulled her legs up to her chest, and rested her chin on her knees. Han discreetly watched her settle in. The way the blue lights of the streaking stars illuminated her face, and how her large brown eyes gazed at the scene beyond the cockpit, Han couldn't imagine her being more beautiful than she was in that moment.
Are you fallin' for her? Luke had asked him. He pushed that question out of his mind.
Luke sat so close to Leia that their shoulder touched. Luke glanced down at the princess and then met Han's hazel eyes. The aspiring Jedi gave the smuggler a small smile before returning his bright blue eyes back to the stars.
Han Solo leaned back further in his seat. In this moment, everything felt right in the galaxy.