"Another day, the ferry docks, and we can get the hell out of here," Han explained to Chewie later that day.
The wookiee grunted in response.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Han wanted to know. "Yeah, sure it's been nice seeing Charon again, but I've got business to tend to on the other side of the galaxy before Jabba realizes where I am."
Chewbacca snorted something in return.
"I already explained it to Charon, I'm not having someone else pay off my debt to Jabba."
Solo's hairy navigator had a response for that too.
"It makes a big difference where the money comes from," Han told him.
Chewie snorted his disapproval at the captain's sudden choice of ethics.
"It matters to me," Han replied, "I get the money transporting a load, that's one thing, I'm not taking charity, if I'm going to settle this, I'm doing it of my own merit."
Chewbacca had a remark for that too.
"Okay so technically it's dirty credits," Han said, "but I come by it as honestly as possible in this business. I still have my pride to think about."
The wookiee had a comeback for that one as well.
"Shot at plenty of times for one thing," Han repeated his previous answer to Charon on the subject, "it doesn't matter...you are getting to be impossible, you know that?"
Chewie had an answer for that one too, and it pushed Han near his boiling point.
"I know that's the exact same thing she said about me! You two are about to drive me crazy!"
"Oh good," Charon cynically said as she entered the room, "then our plan's working."
"Not funny," Han told her.
"Who's joking?" Charon replied, feigning innocence. "Chewie, give us a minute, will you?"
The wookiee grunted something in response and left the room.
"Are you really so anxious to leave already?" Charon asked.
Han shrugged dismissively, "What can I say? A little reminiscence goes a long way."
"You always did like that tin can more than me," the ferryman said with a small smirk.
"I did not," he sneered in response.
It was the same old argument they'd had literally since the first time Han had laid eyes on the Falcon. He'd known Lando long before he and Charon crossed paths with him again on the other side of the galaxy, and once he'd acquired the ship, he couldn't resist showing it off, brought the two of them onboard and circled a couple moons to really rub it in.
By the time they docked, Charon turned to Han and exclaimed out of nowhere, "I don't believe it."
He turned to her and asked, "What?"
"You are in love with this ship."
He could feel himself grinning, but tried to shrug it off as he asked in response, "What're you talking about?"
"You don't even look at me like that," Charon told him, and added with a teasing chuckle, "Admit it, cowboy, you've got the heats for this ship."
"You're crazy," Han remarked. "Do you have any idea how much work this thing needs before it could actually be in a respectable condition? I mean if it was mine-"
"Uh huuuhhh," Charon replied tauntingly.
"Shut up," Han told her, "I'm just saying, it's nothing special. It could be...but it'd need a complete overhaul, for one thing it could go a lot faster."
Charon shook her head and said half to herself, "This is not going to end well. You and Lando are going to wind up killing each other over this tin can."
"Will not," Han argued, "it wouldn't come down to that anyway, I could always scam it from him."
The truth, that he would never admit to anyone, especially Charon, even though it was obvious she already knew, was that he'd been fascinated with the Falcon the minute he saw it. It was the biggest ship he'd ever seen. They made them plenty bigger, even back then, but the only rides he'd ever hitched leaving Corellia were far smaller, could only squeeze a handful of passengers on, and they were standing room only. The first time he'd been inside the ship, he knew he had to have it. He knew no matter where he ended up, he would have a permanent home with that ship, and once he finally won it from Lando, he spent most of his time and credits adjusting, altering and adding things that it needed to adequately suit him.
It hadn't been new when Lando first got it, it had been new enough, but Han had already gotten it third hand to begin with. It had had its fair share of problems from the start, he was always able to fix them, but the more time passed, the more problems it seemed to develop, and they all seemed to take longer to repair anymore. It had been his home for years, he couldn't imagine life without the Falcon, get another ship, start over? It was out of the question.
"Han."
"Huh?" He snapped back to the present time and saw Charon looking at him. "Sorry, what?"
"I said since we won't be docking in Monolo until tomorrow, you might as well find something to occupy your time," the ferryman suggested, "It's going to be a long wait from down here."
"Oh yeah?" he replied with a hint of innuendo in his voice, "You got any suggestions?"
Charon inhaled half a laugh and gave him a slight shove in the stomach and told him, "Why don't you see if you can find Kroob and play cards with him? That kid could use some stimulation."
"You always did play hard to get," Han remarked.
"I thought you were supposed to be the interim navigator on this ferry," Han said as he followed Kroob up a stairwell, "so why aren't you in the cockpit navigating?"
"Well as I'm sure the captain explained to you, sir, we're short handed right now so everybody's pulling multiple shifts around here," the kid answered as they came to the sick bay. Han had seen the place before, never had to use it, but the sight of it still left him in awe. 12 bacta tanks indeed, and as many sick beds spread across the room, all currently empty.
"So what're we doing here?" Han asked.
"I don't know what you're doing here," Kroob meekly offered, "but the captain likes us to routinely check the tanks to ensure they'll work at a moment's notice."
"Had any problems with them?" Han inquired.
"Number 6 was leaking a while back," the young navigator explained as he walked around the tanks one by one inspecting them. "So far there haven't been any recurrences, but still..."
"Let me ask you a question, kid," Han said point blank, "Your captain ever had to use one of these since you came on the crew?"
That got Kroob's attention, he looked at the smuggler and answered with a confused look on his face, "No, sir, why?"
Han snorted, "Trust me, when the day comes, you'll know why."
The skinny kid pursed his lips and his eyebrows together inquisitively but let it go at that.
"How long did you say you'd been working here?" Han asked.
"Since the season ended...about three months ago."
"Seen a lot of action?"
"Action?" Kroob squinted one eye curiously.
"I'm not talking chicks, kid," Han replied cynically.
"You mean the Imperials?"
"Sure, them, or Jabba the Hutt, or any of the hydroponic garden variety low-lives the galaxy has to offer," Han answered.
"Uh, sometimes," Kroob shrugged, "It's been fairly boring for the most part."
"So why do you do it?"
He got another confused look from the kid. Hell, he wondered how desperate Charon had to be to even take him on.
"Sir?"
"If it's so boring on the ferry, why do you do it?" Han asked.
"Oh, well," he shrugged again and answered, "I like the people, and I like the work...and it gave me a great chance to leave home."
"Oh yeah? Where's home?"
"Tarfooth."
Han's eyes widened slightly when he heard that. Kroob didn't notice it and continued, "The captain says anybody who can get the hell out of that black hole has a real shot."
"Yeah," Han slowly remarked, "that, sounds like something she'd say alright. Incidentally, what was she doing on Tarfooth, do you know?"
"She said she likes to come back from time to time, hoping she'll be there to see the place burn when the day comes," the young navigator explained.
Han chuckled, only half heartedly, "That definitely sounds like something she'd say."
Han grunted, half awakened by the sudden sensation of being poked in the back. He rolled over on his side and half coherently murmured for Chewie to leave him alone, and was swiftly met by something loudly popping him on the butt. He jerked awake with a yelp and his eyes shot wide open as he turned over and saw a figure in white standing over him. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he realized it was Charon, her tattered tunic gone for the night and instead she hovered over him in a white undershirt.
"Oh it's you," he grumbled as he rolled back over, "get back in my nightmares where you belong. Wait a minute," he sat up in his bed and looked around the room and noticed they were alone. "Where's Chewie?"
"I told him to give us some privacy," the ferryman answered as she sat on the foot of his bunk, "is it possible for wookiees to whistle?"
It was too late in the night for Han to comprehend the question. He collapsed on his back and groggily demanded to know, "What do you want?"
"You really leaving us tomorrow, cowboy?"
"Assuming your navigator hasn't done anything to screw up the Falcon, you bet it," Han remarked.
"We sure don't ever get too much time together, do we?" Charon asked.
"Oh I'd say a good sized amount," Han told her cynically, "A little of you goes a long way."
"Hey," she said as she inched over to the middle of the bed's foot, forcing the smuggler to move his feet so she didn't sit on them, "remember that one planet we stayed on for two months and it rained every single day we were there?"
"Oh yeah," the gears in Han Solo's head slowly started to turn, "Typhoo, the wettest planet in the galaxy, averages 500 inches of rain a year."
Charon chuckled, "Good thing that shack we stayed in was on top of the mountain."
"Good thing we got the hell out of there before we killed each other," Han replied as he turned on his back and scooted on the bunk to get comfortable, "You were so weird, you'll take 20 showers in a month but you won't go out and get in the rain."
"The rain didn't bother me, it was that death pit you called a swimming quarry. Besides, who the hell ever drowned in a fresher?" Charon remarked.
Han Solo laughed and told the ferryman, "You haven't changed, you're just as crazy now as you were back then."
"Oh trust me, you ain't changed much either," she smugly responded, "all you did was move onto a bigger racket, went from running scams to smuggling goods."
Han tiredly shrugged, "It's good business, I go where the money is."
"And where is it now, genius?" Charon asked.
"I'm working on it, smart aleck," he returned. "Now go away and let me sleep, and tell Chewie to get back in here."
Charon wordlessly responded by fluidly moving up towards the middle of the bunk, and jumping enough to land her weight on top of the smuggler, who yelped and screamed in response. The ferryman scrambled off of the Corellian smuggler and headed for the door, Han called after her, "You know, there are times I hate you."
"That's fine," she replied with her back to him, "I like myself enough for the both of us."
Han slowly rolled onto one side and the other groaning and grumbling to himself, a couple minutes later Chewbacca reentered the room.
"Do me a favor, Chewie," he told the wookiee, "Don't ever leave me alone in the same room as that lunatic again, she's dangerous."
Chewie grunted in response.
"I know you like her, that's not the point," Han said.