Casita more closely resembled a village where it lay beyond the borders of Reecee's semi-modern society. Rough yet sturdy little huts for homes dotted the bright green plain beside the river, mudded planks covered in thatch standing firm beneath tarp-covered roofs. Scattered stone pathways marked the doorsteps to each home, some splattered with paint in one bright color or another. Across the great clearing were longer structures built in stones and mud. Between the homes hung clothing lines, lovely fabrics draped carefully across each one.

Along the river bank played children who screeched their joy, and women who were trading washboards to rinse clothes as they laughed over their children and spoke excitedly to each other. They wore the most enduring beams, such pure happiness and contentment written on their worn faces.

The whole scene reminded Leia of her old home, of the villages of aboriginal people who'd lived near the mountains on Alderaan. Bail Organa had brought her several times to visit them and their home. Those were Alderaan's roots, he would always tell her, and they mustn't forget where they came from. These people— the people of Reece— reminded Leia of them, of the carefree, joyful tribes of the Aldera mountains who always smiled and always sang.

As Leia was only used to, heads began to turn and gaze upon Han and herself as Mirax guided them forward. Rather than pointed looks or suspicious gazes, however, the people of the village only smiled as they passed and offered subtle waves of welcome. Nothing of her years of diplomatic training her prepared her for a warm and inviting welcome where she'd never even been extended an invitation. But they all paid their greetings in some form, many offering a small but polite nod to Leia, a greeting appropriate to offer a noble. Yet, even more acknowledged Han, running up to clap him on the back, call his name, even whistle and cheer as he followed in Mirax's path alongside Leia.

"So, you have been here before," Leia whispered with a smirk.

"I wasn't lying about that."

"What were you doing here? Teaching them to gamble?"

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart. I didn't need to teach them."

Mirax stopped at the edge of the bank where a group of women had been sitting on the sand as they'd gone about their chores. One among them stood, a diminutive woman who stood as tall and fierce as a wookiee warrior. Her bronzed, sun-kissed face was framed by wavy, black tendrils of hair, complimented by a gentle smile and big dark eyes that seemed to be the only invitation Han and Leia needed.

"You wouldn't believe who I picked up in town at Rough Risers'."

"You are right," the woman beamed as her smile seemed to grow by the second. "I don't. So, tell me who you have brought to me."

Instead, Mirax stepped aside as Han came forward. He nodded once, similar to the nod of a bow some of the villagers had just offered Leia. "Rewa," he said, "it's been a while."

Now, the woman's smile transformed suddenly into a wide, amused grin. She reached for Han and swept him into a fierce hug. "Han Solo! About time you pay a visit!" The woman— Rewa— patted Han's cheek in an affectionate, almost motherly manner. "Things are too quiet without you and your wookiee friend. We have missed a little mischief."

"I missed you too, Rewa."

"So? How are you?" Her grin split to show crooked teeth. "How is Jabba?"

Leia swore she knew Han like her own hand now, and she saw his body tense as he put some space between himself and Rewa. "Actually, that's part of why I came here."

Now, it was her turn to lose the mood to joke, and her expression turned grave. "Han," she spoke quietly, "you know this isn't a place to bring your troubles—"

"I know. And you should know I wouldn't do that to these people." He sighed. "Jabba doesn't have any trails on me at the moment. I kinda' quit smuggling a few years ago."

Speechless, Rewa gaped.

"I've been with the Rebel Alliance."

"We don't want their trouble either."

"I know." He paused, stopping for a moment to turn back to Leia. She'd remained dressed in her jumpsuit and dark boots, and her hair was tied in a typical military do which she was regretting now. With years of practice on hair, she knew where each pin was set, keeping her single bun in place; Leia reached to take them out, easily transforming her military crown into a single, long braid which fell down her back. She walked up to join him, slipped her hand into his, and looked up to meet his hazel brandy eyes, feeding him all the confidence she could in a single look. He squeezed her hand.

"Rewa, I need your help. We do. This is Leia. We've left the Rebellion. We need a home."