CHAPTER 11:
As soon as Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Leia Organa approached the Millennium Falcon, six storm troopers filed down the Falcon's open ramp. Faster than any storm trooper could have anticipated, Han whipped out his blaster and picked off two of them. Then he froze as he spotted the Imperial officer pressing the nose of a blaster against Chewbacca's head. Another followed with Wedge in tow, a blaster pointed at his head too. The officers made their way down the ramp with their captives and the remaining storm troopers flanked their superiors, blaster rifles in hand.
"Han Solo," the Imperial officer drawled. "It's been a long time."
"Not long enough, Ervil."
"Lieutenant Quay now."
"Just lieutenant?
"I never thought I'd find you hanging out with rebel scum, but then you were never Imperial officer material."
Han felt Leia's large brown eyes on him; her mouth was probably open in shock. It was something he never planned on revealing, not because he expected her disapproval, but it was a time in his life he wasn't proud of and would rather forget.
"I've raised my standards."
"Drop your blaster, Solo. And the rest of you, drop 'em," the Imperial officer sneered. "Or the Wookie dies."
Luke and Leia looked at Han and then removed their blasters from holsters. Luke tossed his out in front of him. Leia did the same but didn't put as much force in her throw. Han kept his blaster trained on Quay.
"Solo…."
"I know how you Imperials feel about Wookies," Han spat. "Once I do drop my blaster, you'll kill him."
"I'm only interested in the Princess."
Chewbacca grawffued.
Han licked his lips but didn't lower the blaster. "Not gonna happen." He pulled Leia back so that she was partially behind him.
"If you hand over the princess, I'll spare the Wookie."
Han adjusted his aim. He was a good shot, one of the best; he could take Quay out before the Imperial had time to squeeze the trigger of his blaster. At least he thought so. But Wedge had a blaster pointed to his head. Could he pick off both of those Imperials before the other shot Wedge? And if he shot, Luke and Leia's life were on the line. And his, but that really didn't matter much to him at the moment.
"Let the kid and my crewmember go. Then we'll talk."
"They're associates of the rebels," Quay pointed out.
"They're just my crew doin' a job," Han countered. "They have nothin' to do with the Alliance."
"Yet there is a high ranked rebel leader standing right next to you."
Han glanced at Leia and bit the inside of his cheek. She defiantly glared at the Imperial officer, her head held high. He could see the guilt and fear hidden behind her bravado.
"I know you, Solo."
"And you know I can pick you off before you squeeze the trigger."
"Then why haven't you?"
When Han said nothing, Quay nudged the Wookie to the end of the ramp. The sneering man holding Wedge followed suit.
"You know it'll be a bloodbath, and I'll have the princess in custody." Quay's lips pulled back from his teeth in a triumphant smile of sorts. "You have lost, Solo. Again."
Leia squeezed the smuggler's hand and then let it go. She took measured steps closer to Han until she was standing right in front of him, partially blocking his view of Chewie and Quay.
"Leia—"
She said nothing to him. She just gazed into his hazel eyes. Instead of defeat, there was determination in her eyes. She smiled at him, a closed-mouth-what-choice-do-we-have smile. Her hands wrapped around his blaster.
"Leia…" With that one word, he pleaded with her not to do this. Yes they were in a perilous situation, but if she gave him more time to think….
He let her take the blaster from his hands. He had lost, lost everything he had fought for since he stepped foot on Ord Wellis to rescue the princess from Ryse. His hazel eyes filled with remorse, failure. Leia's small smile didn't leave her face. She leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips before pulling away from him.
Then the princess whirled around, pointing the blaster to her head.
"Lieutenant Quay," Her voice was regal, controlled, and confident. "Kill the Wookie, Captain Solo, or his crew, you kill me."
The smug smile on the Imperial's face morphed into a small "o". He pulled the blaster away from Chewbacca's head but kept it trained on the Wookie, its position still lethal.
"You're going to let, Captain Solo's crew go—unharmed," she demanded, "and I'll go with you with willingly without resistance."
"Leia…" Luke breathed.
"Don't do it, Princess," Wedge called out. The Imperial holding the Rogue pilot smacked him in the back of his head with the Imperial issued blaster. Wedge stumbled forward.
Chewie howled.
Han's heart bumped against his chest before it fell into his stomach. He knew she was worth more alive than dead; the Emperor would want nothing more than to publicly execute her for treason. He could see the wheels turning in Quay's mind as he mulled over the princess' proposition. If Quay took her offer, Wedge, Luke, Chewbacca, and him would possibly walk away from this situation. But Leia would be lost to him; odds of him rescuing her from the Empire…
Solo knew the princess knew what lay ahead of her if Quay took her into custody. Her selflessness was another one of her qualities he admired, but at the moment he wished she would have been more selfish and let him take care of it.
And what was he going to do? He looked to Luke to find the kid's face colored in fear. Then his eyes found Chewie's and Wedge's. Both had already given to defeat.
"You have a minute to decide, Lieutenant," Leia informed him. "I'm no good if I'm dead." Her finger tightened on the trigger.
Quay's initial surprise faded into confidence. "The Emperor wants you alive, Your Highness. Darth Vader wants you dead. I win either way, though I'd prefer that you'd still be breathing when I hand you over to the Emperor." He gave her a moment to process his words. "Killing yourself won't prevent me from ordering the death of your companions. The Wookie will go first."
The princess's royal posture never left her, and her large brown eyes remained defiant, but the finger on the trigger of Han's blaster loosened, acknowledging her defeat.
"Drop the blaster, Princess," Quay ordered. "Then no one dies."
Slowly, Leia lowered the blaster from her temple. Still standing next to Han, she stretched out her arm to the side, holding the blaster's butt with the tips of her fingers.
"You win," she conceded.
The princess opened her fingers and dropped the blaster. Han dove for the weapon, catching it before it hit the ground, and fired at Quay. The laser hit the Imperial between his eyes, and he fell back. Wedge took that very moment to elbow the shocked officer who held him as a hostage in the stomach, and Chewbacca grabbed that officer's head and snapped his neck. The storm troopers immediately began to fire.
Leia slipped her hand into Han's boot, retrieved his hold-out blaster, and began firing at the storm troopers. She managed to fell two before they sought out cover. Han joined the battle, but his hopes of escaping this situation were draining; they were pinned down in the open. Han pulled the princess down to the ground and tried to protect her with his body. She continued firing at the storm troopers.
Just then, Luke, standing tall, ignited his light saber and began swinging it in arcs over Han's and Leia's heads. He managed to block the blaster fire pinning them down. The blaster shots ricocheted back at their enemies, taking some out of the fight. Wedge dove for the nearest blaster and joined the battle. No one noticed Chewbacca leap from the ramp and ambush the nearest storm troopers, snapping their necks as he did with the Imperial officer.
The blaster fire ceased and Wedge and Chewbacca ran into the Falcon. Han grabbed Leia's hand and dragged her toward the ships ramp. Han's wounded leg slowed him down, and Leia tucked her shoulder under Han's arm and pulled him along. Still wielding his light saber, Luke backpedaled toward the Falcon's ramp, covering Han and Leia as they made their way up the ramp.
Once everyone was in Han's beloved ship, they all headed toward the cockpit. Han took the reign and Chewie took his place in the co-pilot's seat. Leia and Luke took the seats behind them, and Wedge stood in the center, gripping Luke's seat for balance. They fired up the Falcon, and the ship rose from the ground and raced out of the docking bay door.
Their relief over escaping the Imperials officers and the storm troopers faded fast when they spotted the Star Destroyer hovering in space. Seven TIE fighters were spat out of its belly.
"Just great," Han muttered as he adjusted their course. He turned to Luke and Wedge. "Go take up the canons. See how many you can take out."
Wedge and Luke rushed out of the cockpit and headed to the cannon bays.
Han flipped the Falcon, tilting it to the left and then quickly to the right to avoid the fire from two TIE fighters. "All we need to do is hold them off until we can jump to light speed."
"How long will that be?"
Han detected the worry in Leia's voice. She was well aware of the possibility of being caught in the Star Destroyer's tractor beam. The TIE fighters were shepherding them closer to the huge Imperial ship.
"Got one!" Luke's excited voice came over the intercom.
"There's still six more out there," Han called back.
"Five now," Wedge corrected him.
Solo pressed down on the throttle, putting the Falcon into a deep nose dive away from the Star Destroyer before straightening out.
"Are the coordinates entered?"
Chewbacca growled an affirmative.
"Okay, punch it!"
The Falcon lurched forward before whining. The stars stayed in place.
"What just happened?" Leia asked.
Han rubbed his chin as his eyes scanned the control panel. "They must've disabled the hyper drive." Though Han wasn't sure if it was the Imperials' doing or his ship just being temperamental.
Chewbacca warbled and whined.
"I did patch it up, you big furry oaf! This isn't my fault."
"No light speed?" Leia's expression was that of bewilderment. "Just great!"
"They probably just disabled it, Your Worship," Han repeated in irritation. He rose from his seat and started out of the cockpit. "It should be an easy fix." Han stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. "Just keep us out of the line of fire and away from that Star Destroyer."
Leia jumped into the pilot's seat and assisted Chewbacca. Han rushed out the cockpit door and to the hyper drive. He studied the contraption and noticed all the wires and parts were in their correct place.
"Why can't you work when we need you to?" Han spoke to his ship.
He limped into the lounge and stopped at the large computer on the wall. He started flipping switches and pressing buttons. Then the Falcon rolled several times before diving, forcing Han to take the seat in front of the computer and strap in. His brow furrowed as he looked in the direction of the cockpit. That wasn't Chewie piloting; it had to be the princess. The ship banked to the right before climbing. Her style reminded him of Luke. Han just hoped Leia had Luke's sixth sense or otherwise they could be in trouble.
Han located the conundrum with the hyper drive, reprogrammed the computer, and smacked his fist twice against casing of the computer. The panel flickered until its lights became strong and steady.
"Okay, Chewie! Punch it!" He called into the intercom.
The Millennium Falcon lurched forward and picked up speed, forcing Han to grip the armrests of his chair. Once he acclimated to the motions of the ship, he unstrapped and headed back to the cockpit. There, he found Leia and Chewie smiling at each other in relief. Leia evacuated the pilot's seat when she saw Han.
"So did the Imperials disable it, or was it broken?" Leia jutted out a hip and planted her fist on it.
"Uh…they disabled it."
Chewbacca howled, and Leia crossed her arms over
She arched an eyebrow. "Chewie says you're lying."
"What?"
Han shot the Wookie a hostile look and wondered when Leia picked up Shiiwook. She did spend a lot of time with Chewie. Chewie had taken a liking to her, mainly because of the way she stood up to Han and put him in his place. Han had to remember to watch what he said to the Wookie in front of her. Solo squeezed past the princess, stopping in front of her. Their close proximity stole her words, and her cheeks flushed as he looked into her large brown eyes. He smiled as he moved past her and claimed the pilot's seat. Leia sat down in the chair behind him. Wedge and Luke came into the cockpit, their faces bright with enthusiasm.
"That was close," Wedge assessed.
Too close, Han thought but didn't express that sentiment.
"Did you see me take out those two TIE fighters heading straight towards us?" Luke excitedly asked.
"Some of us were too busy," Han muttered.
"Fixing the hyper drive," Leia snarked and then placed a hand on Luke's arm. "You did great."
The kid smiled under her compliment.
"Hey, I didn't do too bad myself, Princess," Wedge chimed in.
"No you didn't." She smiled at the Rogue Squadron pilot. "We would have been blown to pieces without you."
Chewbacca grumbled and ruffawed.
"Good thinking, Chewie," Han said.
"What?" Luke asked.
Before Han could translate, the princess chimed in, "Chewie says we're making two jumps—if the Falcon's hyper drive can handle it—" She continued before Han could protest, "so that it'll be more difficult to track us back to the base."
"The Falcon wouldn't have so many problems if it wasn't always being shot at during the missions you sent us on."
"Oh, please," Leia rolled her eyes. "This bucket of bolts had its problems before then."
"Hey, Your High-and-Mightiness." Han swiveled around in his chair to face the princess. He wagged his finger at her. "This so-called 'bucket of bolts' saved your ass more times than I can count."
"Wedge is bleeding," Luke pointed out, preventing the argument from going on.
Wedge touched the back of his head and winced. "That Imp got me good."
"Let's go take care of your head. And change your bandages, Luke."
Leia rose from her chair and took Wedge's arm. She led him out of the cockpit, and Luke followed. Han looked back over his shoulder then shut the cockpit door once they exited.
Han slumped into the pilot's seat exhausted. "How come you let Leia do the flying?"
Chewbacca guraand.
"I know your style." Han shook his head. "I'm the reckless one."
Chewie jargled and grunted.
"You're not that reckless." Han swiveled his chair to look at his co-pilot. "So why'd you hand over the controls to her?"
The Wookie answered him with a long string of growls.
"Huh. Glad you took her suggestions."
Han's co-pilot grunted.
"So you just handed the controls over to her?" Han's eyes widened. "You have a lot of faith in her."
Chewie agreed.
Han clasped his hands over his stomach and smiled to himself. "I wonder where she learned to fly like that."
More grunting and growling from Chewbacca.
"Yeah, she's full of surprises."
Han's mind traveled to the feisty princess. She certainly wasn't what he expected to find on the Death Star. Determination, selflessness, a skilled battlefield medic, quick thinking, an agile pilot, brave, strong-willed, an inner strength, loyalty, idealistic—not qualities he'd associate with royalty. He wondered about her upbringing. Obviously, not typical for someone with her background.
He thought about Leia's large brown eyes. He liked the way she looked up into his own eyes, even when she was yelling at him. They were so expressive if you could get beyond the haughtiness she used to mask her true emotions. In those large brown eyes, he saw her loss. He saw worry for the soldiers under her command, for Luke, for him when the odds were against them. He recognized the fear that never really faded from her eyes. She had many fears, but the fear of losing more of her friends after losing her family, her whole world consumed her. Did she fear losing him?
Yes, Han was certain of that. She did care for him, probably more than she would ever admit. He touched his lips, remembering the quick kiss she gave him before she held his blaster to her head. A good-bye kiss? A thank you kiss even though he failed her? Once again, it was she who got them out of a hopeless situation. Leia had dropped his blaster within his reach, allowing Han to take everyone by surprise. Brilliant thinking, quick on her feet as usual. She obviously had confidence in him, knew him well enough to know his next move. She trusted him.
Love requires trust. Could she love him? Could she love a smuggler with an undisclosed past who operated within a shady realm of warlords and illegal activities? In reality, he was a criminal, and she had a strong sense of right and wrong. It couldn't be possible that she would love someone who would never dedicate himself to a cause—especially a losing cause—who hasn't been able to commit to anything or anyone since Bria. He was flawed and damaged by his past.
Leia's past had damaged her, too. They had that in common. Han looked down and ran his finger along the control panel. She trusted him, but that didn't mean she loved him. Love required trust, but trust could exist without love, and her heart belonged to the Alliance.
What of his heart? What did he feel for her? He deeply cared for her, more than he would ever admit. He worried about her, wanted to protect her, wanted to comfort her, wanted to trust her as much as he trusted Chewie — she proved herself worthy of his trust. But it wasn't love, couldn't be love. Besides, he had Jabba to deal with. He couldn't afford to love anyone. And all he would end up doing was hurting her. Best to keep his distance, though that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Han sighed. "I'm gonna go rest, Chewie."
Chewbacca growled as he watched Han exit the cockpit.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The group of rebels had been back at the Alliance base for a more than a week now. Their first stop was the medicenter. Bacta strips healed the bite wounds on Luke's arm to the point where the scars were barely visible, and his arm was held in a sling to give his shoulder a rest. It turned out Wedge had a concussion that put him out of commission for a couple of weeks, and sitting around was driving him crazy. Han had reluctantly given into Chewie's nagging and allowed Two-One-B to check over his leg and repair the damage. He had been laid up in the medicenter for a few days, and he had the company of Wedge as well as many visitors. His recent escapades—rescuing the princess once again—brought on uncomfortable attention from other rebels.
However, the person he wanted a visit from—Leia—never came. She had refused to submit herself to an examination by Two-One-B when they returned, to no one's surprise. The princess hated that place and avoided the medicenter as much as she could. She did visit Luke, Chewie, wounded soldiers, and even Han in the past when they were injured. But the princess didn't visit him this time, and Han couldn't help but believe she was avoiding him.
As it was, Leia kept her distance from him on their return trip to the base. She mostly avoided everyone, but she rarely made eye contact with him. Just hours before she had kissed him—in front of everyone—before she held his blaster to her head. Did that mean something to her? Was that why she avoided him? Leia thought she was going to be captured by the Imperials. She probably thought she was going to die. It had to mean something to her; it had meant something to him. But now she was safe, and death and possibly more torture were no longer hanging over her head. Maybe she wanted to take it back. Maybe she was just caught up in the moment.
To be fair, Han hadn't exactly sought her out on their return trip. He was avoiding her because of that kiss. It scared him, made him want to run. But he also wanted to stick around to find out where it would lead. However, nothing had changed between them when they returned to the Alliance base. After his leg healed and he was able to leave the medicenter and when his and Leia's paths crossed, a fight usually broke out between them over something small, something that didn't matter, and she always ended up storming off. Maybe it was better this way.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Han lay in his bunk, rubbing his injured leg. Phantom pains would pierce his wound now and then. He was told that it was still healing and the discomfort would go away. He couldn't wait; all it did was remind him how Leia had ministered to his wound, how agile and gentle her fingers were. And how she avoided him now. He rolled onto his side and faced the wall. He had to get her out of his mind. It was driving him crazy. It was time to face Jabba. He and Chewie would leave first thing in the morning.
Would he say good-bye? Luke would be hurt, and Leia angry if he didn't. But he didn't want to see their faces, experience their reactions when he told them he was leaving. He might not be able to leave if he did. It'd be best to make a clean break. He'd just have to convince Chewie it was the right thing to do.
Just as he was about to drift off, Han felt a presence in his room. He whipped out his blaster from under his pillow and whirled around to face the intruder. Leaning on the doorjamb was Princess Leia Organa. Han lowered his blaster. She was wearing leggings, slippers and the long-sleeved white shirt he had given her, now freshly laundered. Her hair hung loose to just above her shoulders, and there was no trace of make-up on her face. She held her arms tightly around her chest. Han just sat there, savoring the sight of her, her unassuming beauty as she stood in his doorway in the middle of the night. He had to be dreaming.
Then Leia crossed the room, walking toward him until she stood next to his bed. She didn't make eye contact with him nor relax her arms. Han sat there for a moment, waiting for her to speak, to tell him why she was standing in his room next to his bed (with him in it) in the middle of the night. But she said nothing as she awkwardly stood next to his bed.
She couldn't be a dream, Han realized. In his dreams she was always more enthusiastic to see him, jumping into his bed, looking up at him with desire, and praising his prowess. No, this was real; the princess was really here in his cabin.
Han wanted to ask her why she had come to him at such an hour. Did she want to apologize after their blow-out argument earlier that day? Was she waiting for an apology from him? Did she want to finish the argument that she had walked away from? But he couldn't speak. A spell had fallen between them, and he didn't want to break it.
Then the princess pulled back the covers and sat down on the bed, facing away from him. She stayed there like that, not moving, just sitting, and Han held his breath. Then Leia lay down next to him, keeping her back to him. She pulled the covers over herself and adjusted her head on one of Han's pillows. Han's mouth hung open as he looked down upon her. She closed her eyes, and Han caught the few tears roll down her cheek, across the bridge of her nose.
The sight of Leia's tears pulled at Han's heart. As he figured, she didn't escape her ordeal unscathed. If only he had found her sooner, if only….The damage done could not be undone, and all it amounted to was more pain and agony on top of what she already suffered at the hands of Darth Vader. And here she was, in his bed, breaking. It wasn't Luke she went to; it wasn't General Reckon, the man who practically raised her that she went to. It was him. She trusted him with her weaknesses. Han inhaled under the weight that fact carried. How could he leave her? Solo lowered himself back down into the bed and lay there for a while, unsure what to do, unsure of what she wanted from him.
Han decided to take his chances. He wrapped his arm around her waist and moved toward her, closing the distance between them. She scooted toward him so that her back was pressing against his bare chest. Her arm wrapped around his, but she didn't hold his hand. Han nuzzled his nose into her hair and inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo. He then placed a kiss on the top of her head.
Leia's breathing was ragged but not from passion. She was crying as quietly as she could, trying not to let Han know. But he knew, and he tightened his hold around her. Every so often she inhaled deeply, but soon her breathing fell into rhythm with his. Once he knew she was asleep, Han allowed himself to drift off.
Han awoke the next morning to find himself alone in his bed. He felt the sheet where she had lay. Still warm. Han rolled onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, and tried to stave off the separation anxiety he was feeling.