Two Strangers

By Vera Priscaleth

Disclaimer: Lucasfilm Ltd. owns the film and the characters, I only own this story, email me for redistributing

it. I'm not making any money with this, so you can forget about suing me.

Rating: PG-13 (to be cautious)

Author's Note: This just happened to come out after seeing A New Hope some time ago. It's a small POV of Leia

and her first reactions of Han.  I wasn't going to type it up at all, but a friend beat me to it. I wish to thank that friend

and Sarah for beta-ing.

I know this man already. I've only recently met him, in a situation very unlikely, dodging shots from

Imperial blasters. I still feel like I know this Han Solo character inside and outside. And quite a

character he certainly is. Traveling around the galaxy with a three meter long furry creature,

named "Chewie", on a large piece of rubble he claims is the fastest ship in the galaxy. Well, I'll be

damned if he can get us out of here

  And his attitude; please let it be a bad joke. He takes order from no one except himself, and is only

helping the Rebellion because of the big reward that he'll be receiving after "all this" is over. Yes,

he's pointed that out several times. As if his payment is our primary concern at the

moment.

  I'm sitting here, in the cockpit with him. He's bragging about our amazing escape from the Death

Star, but I've been thinking and the more I think about it, the more it seems like it was too easy. The

Empire must've...

  "Easy... You call that easy?"  He looks almost hurt.

  "They're tracking us!" I exclaim, but he denies it hastily:

  "Not this ship, sister."

I let out a sigh, frustrated by this man's attitude. The Empire had to have let us go. In the back of

my mind I'm wondering what's their next move. Alderaan…

   Diplomats, leaders, politicians and royalties: I've met these types more than I can care to count.

But I'm not used to dealing with Han's sort of people. But a Jedi trainee, a smuggler and a Wookie –

I didn't ever think I'd run into a group like this trio. So, to my astonishment I tell him the exact cargo

of the very special R2-unit. Maybe this Solo will become useful to the Rebellion. He, however,

shakes his head after my revelation.

   "Look, I ain't in this for your revolution, and I'm not in it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid.

I'm in it for the money!" he tells me matter-of-factly and I feel a fury rising in me. So this is what he's

all about? No ability to commit himself to a good cause, no desire... Why on Yavin is he wasting his

time here? Oh yes, I should not let that fact slip from my mind. The money and the only the

money is what matters. He wouldn't know a good cause if it shot his behind with a blaster.

   "You needn't worry about your reward. If money is all that you love, then that's what you'll receive!"

I hiss furiously at him and turn to leave. He makes no move to stop me, and I storm out of the cockpit,

encountering Luke at the exit.

   "Your friend's quite a mercenary," I state to Luke, my eyes on Solo's backside. "I wonder if he really

cares about anything--" Something stings a little inside of my chest. I ignore it and finish my

sentence: "...or anybody."

    Luke looks confused. As I rush out I hear his slow response:

 "I care."

I'm not blind, so I know he does. And even though my own feelings are particularly gentle, I can't stop

thinking, why I don't feel more. Shouldn't there be more?

   I walk to the so-called lounge of Solo's ship and a painful memory of Alderaan's destruction is brought

back into my already aching mind. But I know it's never left my mind since that terrible destruction. I try not

to think of it, but it crawls back into my brain, flashing horrible images for me to view over and over again.

I turn numb and suddenly everything else holds no importance to me. I don't care about the Empire anymore,

I don't care for the Rebellion and our fight or the former Senate and least of all do I care about Han Solo's plans.

My father had once encouraged me to fight for my beliefs, but what beliefs are left now? In my darkest moments,

on moments like these I allowed myself not to carry the burden anymore… To let everything, even myself go.

       I've sat down close to the droids, but I'm merely staring off to space. Secretly I wish to cry, but no tears will

come out. Before, they only came in the privacy of my own cell on the Death Star, where I was alone with

myself. I however dislike the company of myself too much to leave the lounge, so I stay. I straighten up

consciously and put aside all things  involving pain and anguish. On the very moment, Solo walks by and

glances at me tentatively, as if he had witnessed my dark moment of letting go. A flush burns my cheeks, but I turn

away. He couldn't have seen what I was thinking. I don't wish to believe so, in any way.

Han Solo. The man is crazy. Brave but definitely crazy. He is a man too selfish to fight for a good

cause without getting paid. And even with our salary, he wouldn't stick around. I ought to be glad he'll be

gone. He won't be useful anyway. What a waste even thinking about him staying. He's made

his choice, half-packed his bags already.

    But getting serious, who am I kidding? He will be very useful to the Alliance. I cannot deny that.

And though I'm constantly convinced of the empty possibility of Solo turning his ship around, actually

taking orders from other than Han Solo and taking a slight interest of the happenings of this galaxy, I still

keep thinking of the very unlikely maybe. Why, I have no idea. Perhaps I'm more interested in the man

himself instead of his potential as a pilot to the Alliance. Yes, haha, Leia. You ought to tell jokes more

often.

    I guess it really is time, I think when the ship nears the Yavin Base. Goodbye Han Solo. See you in our

afterlife. If I'm unlucky.