Han had to admit getting a good stiff drink had helped the edge off the overall bad mood he'd been in ever since they were forced to land to figure out why the Falcon couldn't stay airborne for more than 10 minutes before something conked out. He took his glass with him and headed to the cockpit.

He'd been there before but it was always an overwhelming experience. His whole ship could fit in that one room easily. There were five times as many screens and monitors hanging everywhere and by the looks of the panel, 20 times as many controls as the Falcon had, and at this very moment there were only two people manning the controls, Charon, and some young pup at the navigator's seat who barely even looked old enough to be out of survival school.

They both turned in their seats when the door slid open, he stood there and merely held up his glass in greeting.

Charon turned to the kid and said nonchalantly, "Kroob, why don't you run up to the galley and get lunch?"

Half timidly the young man replied, "Oh it's okay, captain, I brought it with me."

"Run up to the galley and eat it then," she told him in a tone that was both nonchalant and commanding.

The kid seemed to take the hint and slowly nodded, "Oh...sure, captain." He got up from his seat and quietly stepped past Han and left the cockpit.

Once the door slid shut behind him, Han turned to Charon and laughed, "What farm did you get him off of?"

"I had to let most of my regular crew go for the season," she explained as she stood up, "couldn't keep up their pay on what I'm bringing in right now. I'm getting paid 5,000 credits to haul those geniuses and their droids from Hannix to Monolo in a week."

"Ouch," Han replied, knowing she normally raked that much in a day for carrying a full ship.

"You know," he said, changing the subject, "I'd like to know why I get the feeling that Chewie likes you better than he does me."

She laughed, "That's not true and you know it. He's been with you for years, he's going to stay with you until one or both of you dies."

"Well now I'm depressed," Han remarked lightly. He looked at her and in a slightly more serious tone inquired, "So how long ago did you talk to Jabba's guys?"

"About two weeks ago," Charon answered. "Don't worry, I told them that they better not get in my way because I was heading to Tarfooth because I'd heard rumors you were heading there smuggling a whole harem of Ginji women to their new husband. Figured that'd be as good of a wild goose chase for them as anything."

Han busted out laughing. "Anybody who'd marry a harem of Ginjis, he's the one that should worry." He stopped laughing and asked her slyly, "If you didn't know where I was...how did you know I wasn't at Tarfooth?"

"Because you'd never set foot on Tarfooth again in your life and you know it," Charon replied.

"Hm, good point," he considered.

"Speaking of though," Charon said.

"What?"

"I did set foot on Tarfooth...figured it wouldn't hurt to make it look legitimate...while I was there, I met with some people," Charon told him, and asked, "Do you want to see what the latest in weaponry is?"

"Uh...sure?" Han said, not sure what the connection was.

Charon went over to one section of the controls, punched in a few keys and a drawer popped open from under the control board, she took out two blasters, both very different from the one he carried, both different from each other.

"These are supposed to be the weapons of the future," she held one in each hand and showed him, "This one's a carbon freeze blaster."

"Are you kidding me?" Han asked.

"It's new...and this one's a Hoth freeze blaster."

"A what?"

"The blast," she explained, "Is supposed to be so far below freezing that one hit will automatically freeze someone to death. They're prototypes. The people who design these are operating exclusively on Tarfooth right now, and they're issuing a thousand of these to mercenaries, bounty hunters..."

"What, no Rebels?" Han asked sarcastically.

"Apparently not until they're proven to work effectively," Charon told him.

"So how'd you get them?" he was curious.

"Remember that guy Higgings we used to live next to? He's one of the guys handing them out," she answered.

"Oh yeah, him," Han remarked, "I never liked that guy."

"Oh trust me, that feeling's mutual," Charon said. She held the two blasters and suggested, "Maybe you ought to take one of these with you."

"Thanks but no thanks, if I'm actually gonna use something, I like to make sure it's actually gonna work," he replied.

"Suit yourself," she said as she slipped one under her tunic and held onto the other, "Between you and me, I'm wondering what effect this might have on Jabba if he decides to come poking around here."

Han laughed, "You're not serious."

The look on the ferryman's face suggested otherwise, and suddenly Han wasn't laughing.

"You're serious?"

"Why not?" Charon asked. "Get rid of him and that would clear up a lot of your problems."

Han's eyes widened and he waved his hand, "Whoa whoa whoa, you can't do that."

"Why not?" she repeated.

He looked at her like she was nuts and asked her, "If you fry Jabba, do you have any idea who's going to take his place?"

"No, who?"

"I don't know," Han responded without missing a beat, "but whoever it is would be even worse than he is, and I already got enough trouble with him as it is without it compounding when my debt trades hands."

Charon pocketed the second blaster and told the smuggler, "You are impossible, you know that? You won't let me help you get a new ship that's not always breaking down-"

"Don't start again," he warned her.

She continued like she hadn't heard him, "And you won't let me blast Jabba, which really would be doing the whole galaxy a favor, what's the matter with you?"

"I have my pride," he answered.

"And where's that gotten you?" Charon asked, in a tone that indicated she already knew the answer.

"Shot at plenty of times for one thing," he responded without missing a beat, "but I still got it."

Charon turned to the side and a cynical laugh escaped her, "What did I ever see in you?"

The question unintentionally brought a fond smile to Han's lips as he thought back that many years. He'd heard plenty of times over the years about being young and in love, and what more, he'd lived it for a brief time, when it happened, and looking back on it now, it all seemed to blur together like an intoxicated dream.

He'd been young at the time, long before he started smuggling anything for anybody. He was a con by nature and he seized opportunity when it struck, and every so often it struck in different forms, at that time he was running a card game on a street corner, draw people in, take their money, and nobody was ever able to spot the right card. They tried, they'd wind up betting all their money to try and achieve the impossible. Nobody ever beat him. And one day, she'd been one of many people he fleeced. She'd been at the forefront of the crowd, young like him, but as she walked up to the table he could sense an air about her, which presented an illusion that she'd been around, and wasn't fresh off a land speeder. She wasn't anything to him, just another mark to take her money and move on to another location. She'd put five credits down for the initial bet she could win, she didn't, and she shelled out more credits, and more, and more, and every time she lost again. She was one of about a dozen people who walked away from the table defeated, and Han had stood back and laughed at their expense, until he realized that the money was gone. He looked and saw her trying to disappear into the crowd, and he took off chasing after her. She looked back, realized she had company, and took off running, he chased her into an alleyway and finally caught up with her and grabbed her.

What happened in that alley was a hazy memory, one in which as Han best remembered it, everything just seemed to go in a circle, including them, part of it was because they actually spun around as they fought with one another. One the first go-round he had a fistful of the back of her shirt clenched in one hand and his other arm wrapped over her collarbone as he tried to subdue her. On the second go-round she'd somehow gotten loose and now had him in a headlock and was trying to force him down to the ground. On the third go-round something had happened and at the same time Han broke loose from her grip, he realized he actually liked this crazy chick, and he kissed her. On the fourth go-round she'd bluntly responded to it by slapping him in the face and trying to throttle him. The fifth time they went around together their hands were gripped on each other's shoulders as they kissed, and from there it went from hazy to a complete blur, and everything just went black as the memory ended.

It was something Han chose to look back on as seldom as possible, but the memory found plenty of times and ways to conjure itself up. It was so long ago, they were both just a couple of dumb kids who didn't know anything. He didn't remember much after that point of that day, what he did remember afterwards was that they were together after that. He was good at running con games and Charon was good at picking pockets and they both relied on their strengths to bring in enough money to start a life together. It worked for a while, and it was good...until it wasn't.

The sound of Charon snapping her fingers, how she did it through the gloves she wore, he could never figure out, right by his ear, drew Han back to the here and now.

"Sorry, what?" he asked.

"I said unlike Kroob, I haven't had lunch yet, so why don't we head up to the galley and get a bite?"

"Sounds good to me." Han couldn't even remember right off hand the last time he ate. The truth he wouldn't admit to Charon was the Falcon had been giving him trouble for a while and the last few days he spent more time working on it trying to get it running again than actually flying it.

Charon set the controls to auto-pilot and they left the cockpit.

"Exactly what do you call this?" Han asked as he tried to chew whatever it was he'd put in his mouth. Whatever it was was chock full of salt and hard as an asteroid.

Charon's response was half muffled like his as she said around a cheek full of the stuff, "Beats me, but I got half a mind to test the new blaster out on the cook."

The smuggler tried not to choke as he started laughing and about swallowed the food, still largely whole. He looked at her and said, "Let me guess, had to replace him too, right?"

"Off-season sucks," she replied.

"You always did have such a way with words," he said sarcastically. "My mother always told me not to date anyone outside of my own galaxy, now I know why."

"Han, you never had a mother," Charon said bluntly.

"So what?" he replied without missing a beat, "She still told me." In spite of himself, his own words drew a chuckle out of him.

The expression on Charon's face almost matched his completely, though she managed to restrain herself from laughing at his comment, just barely, as she told him, "It's lucky for you that I like you."

"Oh yeah? Do I even want to know what you'd do if you didn't like me?" he asked smugly.

The ferryman merely shook her head in answer, drawing another laugh out of him.