Sorry the update took so long! I'm in the final stages of publishing a book, so I've been really busy lately! Thank you all for your patience!
Chapter Eight:
Leia sat in the living room, woefully considering the information she'd been given by her mother, and fearing for her brother's life. The Emperor was sadistic. Luke could be killed. . . or worse.
She had to do something. She didn't know what, but she had to. She had to save him— she had to stop this before it was too late. It was what her father would have done. Her father. Anakin Skywalker. The Hero With No Fear. How could she live up to that? How could she make him proud?
Her heart pounded as she pondered it all, and she felt sick. What could she do? How could she help?
The distant rumbling of a ship landing snatched her from her reverie.
"What's that?" Leia called to the back room. (Mother was sorting through holoprojectors.)
"That's the shipment of farm supplies." Mother called back.
"It doesn't look like Ono's ship!" Leia responded, looking out the window curiously. "It looks like a piece of junk!"
"Ono changed routes." Mother explained. "But he hired a friend of his to take us our supplies. Now go and sign, won't you?"
Leia hurriedly grabbed her cloak, and rushed into the yard. The wind bit her face as it whipped across the plains.
The ship looked even junkier up close.
"What you looking at?" A gruff voice asked, as she examined a piece of the exterior, which appeared to be falling off.
Startled, Leia backed away, and turned to face who she assumed was the owner of ship.
He was tall and thirtyish. Despite the face that his shirt was layered with a black vest, she could tell that he was quite muscular. His hair was a light shade of brown, and messy, despite the fact it was combed. His eyebrows contracted over blue eyes, and a smirk rested on his square jaw. She could tell he was a rugged, impatient sort of man. A hot-headed nerf-herder, likely, and that instantly annoyed her.
But there was something about him that she couldn't help but like.
"I'm waiting for the supply shipment." She told him loftily. "You are delivering farm supplies, aren't you?"
"Not usually." The man snapped. "This is a one-time deal, and I don't plan on carrying all those crates to the house, either. You bring any help?"
"Unfortunately, just me." Leia answered.
"Aren't you a bit short to help?" The man asked, putting his hands on his hips, and scanning her derisively.
"Aren't you a bit old for insults?" Leia replied, becoming more annoyed by the second.
"Facts aren't insults, sweetheart." The man said, looping around the ship to the boarding ramp.
"The fact is, I can help." She protested, following him.
"Aren't there any men around here?" The man grumbled.
"No, actually."
"Great, a colony of women. Just swell."
"It's just my mother and me, and as your employer, I suggest you take a more polite tone." Leia growled.
The man looked at her sarcastically. "Well, forgive me, Princess."
Leia fought the urge to slap him. "Are you going to unload this stuff, or aren't you?"
"Maybe once you get out of my way." The man spat, looking up the boarding ramp. "CHEWY! Start bringing the stuff out."
"Perhaps if you'd flown closer you wouldn't be facing the problem of carrying all those crates to the supply shed." Leia told him condescendingly.
A large, furry creature Leia recognized as a Wookie began walking down the ramp, carrying a metal crate.
"What took you so long?" The man asked impatiently.
Chewy roared in response.
"You stubbed your toe?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chewy nodded, growling pathetically.
"Well, if you're not going to watch your step, then don't be a baby about it!" The man replied irritably.
"Do you treat all your workers this way? Mr.-"
"Solo." The man said. "Han Solo. And Chewy's not my employee. He owes me a big fat life debt, so he pretty much does what I tell him."
"He's your slave?" Leia asked, mortified.
"I didn't say slave." Han answered flatly. "I said life-debt- it's Wookie culture, Princess."
"My name is Leia." She protested, flushing red. "Now how long is going to take you and that. . . Chewy to unload all this?"
"Probably all day." Han replied, folding his arms. "And we expect dinner."
"Dinner?" She asked incredulously.
"Yeah- Chewy and I are out of rations." Han explained.
"We are not going to make you dinner." Leia said flatly.
"Then Chewy and I are not carrying this stuff to the supply shed." Han said.
"Fine." Leia replied haughtily. "You and your pet can have dinner- but you'd better get to work."
"Oh yes, Highness." Han replied, bowing jauntily.
Leia rolled her eyes, and walked back to the house.
"You were out there for a while." Mother commented, walking out of the bedroom, arms laden with holoprojectors.
"That nerf-herder and I had a disagreement." Leia complained. "Ono's friend is the rudest man I've ever met."
"You sound annoyed." Mother said, her eyes twinkling in a knowing way.
"I am!" Leia agreed furiously. "He demanded that he and his overgrown fuzz-ball come to dinner!"
"Overgrown fuzz-ball?"
"Wookie."
"I see." Mother said, still smiling. She paused a moment. "And what did this unscrupulous character look like?"
"Scruffy." Leia answered, stalking into the kitchen and turning the stove on. "Make that scoundrel dinner. . ."
Mother only laughed.