The Prince

"Hello?" he called tentatively after opening the door to his mansion, newly polished hardwood floors sprawling out before him. "Dad, you there?"

A clean cut man, wrapped in a fine suit, walked down the stairs on the left, coming from the East Wing. "Han, so good to see you home finally," he said, a bit of darkness fringed his tone. His features were lined, he looked more tired than usual, more upset and dangerous.

"I'm sorry father, we kind of got carried away with the plans and—"

"And what, pray tell, were you thinking when you proposed to Princess Leia Organa? If Bail Organa finds out who I am, what I am doing, my entire fortune and future goes down the drain, and so does yours! I know you two are good friends, though I tried hard to prevent it," the older man fumed.

"Father! This is my decision and has nothing to do with you," Han snapped back. They walked closer towards each other, meeting halfway down the steps.

"It has everything to do with me! If one whiff of our dealings is caught, we will be sacked!"

"Father, who says they've got to know, who says they're going to find out?"

"Well, you've already told her that you're a prince," the man glared.

"I, how, when, how did you know?"

"I've had that palace bugged for decades, in case something like this happens. Han, you don't understand what I've been through to secure you a future worth having," he snapped.

"What future? Heading up a secret, illegal society? Attacking the very people I care about? What kind of a future is that father?"

"One worth everything in this mansion!"

"I don't want everything in this mansion! I want one thing in the palace of House Organa, and that's the princess!"

"Oh well, this is very fitting isn't it. The prince and the princess, two people with a common title, but beliefs very different from each other and business practices. How do you expect to lead a double life, if you are married to the thing you are trying to bring down? How do you expect to explain long absences when you have no political background?"

"I was never told that we were trying to bring down House Organa. I don't intend on spending long periods away from Leia. Is that a secret that you've been keeping from me? In case I tried to get in your way?"

"You cannot abandon them when I am gone, they will look for your leadership!"

"Yeah," Han started up the stairs. "They'll have to find it someplace else."

"You are the rightful heir!"

"To what? A bunch of filth?" Han laughed. "I hate to be your undoing, but I won't leave Leia, and if it comes to it, I will bring you down in order to stay with her."

"You are the one they need, Han!"

"According to you, you're the one they need, and I'm just your pawn. That's it isn't it. You needed me to get close to the princess and give you information on the going-ons of her life and what was happening in the family, so that you could bring them all down. It's been a plot from the very beginning. And I thought you were respectable."

Han sped away from his old home, his belongings packed on his back and strapped to the swoop bike. His father watched from an upstairs window as his son faded into the haze of the hot afternoon. The prince had fallen, and it was time to act.

"Nethir," he said into a comlink. "It's time, House Organa must fall tonight, and either my son or the princess must go, or both. Either we lose the prince or we cause so much pain that we gain him again. He has failed to take on his responsibilities. My command: Kill, with no mercy."

Han pulled into the garage and raced into the palace, no doubt his father had already sent out the message and the commands. He had to warn Leia, he had to get her to safety. If he failed…he couldn't think of that. He had to succeed. He bounded up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the turbo lift, taking them two at a time, sometimes three if he could manage it. Throwing open the door, he raced down the hall, knocking three servants out of the way, sending the contents of their baskets spilling across the floor, and forced his way into the living area when the door was barely open. "Leia!"

"What's the matter Han?" she said, coming down the hall. Her hair was braided, and half of it was twisted into a bun on the side of her head.

"Leia, get your family, run, they are coming. They want to kill you, your family." He said quickly, gasping for breath.

"Han, what are you talking about?" she said, looking perplexed, grasping his forearm to keep him steady.

"My father, they are coming to take down House Organa, plot, for nineteen years, I'm so sorry."

"Is this about the prince thing? Because Han I really don't care," she started, but he cut her off.

"Yes, it is, I am."

"What are you?" she took a step closer. His eyes were dark and stormy, and his hair was matted to his forehead in sweat. His clothes were jumbled, and his face was erratic, something she had never known of him. He was struggling, she could tell. His secret was consuming him, because of a danger she knew naught about, but could feel in the air. "Han, what are you?"

"The Prince of —"

The glass window behind them exploded, sending slivers and shards of glass hurtling towards them.