Happy Sunday, all!

I know that you were unable to review this last week, so I will forego your collective punishments, he he.

Two things:

1) PwtD is now up at the JC boards. Thanksfor all your opinions, they helped me decide! If you post over there, check it out, but please, please don't spoil anything. Thanks!

2) I finished the epilogue to this story last Friday! Congrats to myself! Whoo-hoo!

Enough rambling. On to the chapter!

Leia breathed a sigh of relief as the full implications of her situation settled into her mind. She found herself suddenly wearied and not a small bit exhausted from her captivity and escape. She checked the TIE's chronometer. It's only been a day and a half. She had expected two days or more.

She shifted her mind through the necessary tasks to be accomplished. She needed to rest, certainly, but she could do that on the hyperspace jump back to Coruscant. Back to Han. She did not need fuel for her stolen TIE, which was fortunate, and she thought she would survive without a meal, too.

Double-checking to see if she'd missed anything, Leia stretched out with the Force, most relieved to be able to do so. She felt a slight tremble of anticipation from the Force, but nothing as concrete as a full-fledged danger warning. Her hand grasping the hyperdrive lever, Leia searched for her brother's comforting presence, eager to see where exactly he was, contemplating a quick rendezvous before finishing the trip to Coruscant.

Her hand froze in mid glide, and she slumped into her seat as she discovered her inability to sense Luke. How - ? Leia's mind suddenly went into overdrive, hurriedly concocting possibilities, ridiculous and absurd, each one. He's not – no! I would have felt that! There has to be some sort of explanation!

Quickly loosening the hold of her initial shock, Leia searched for that latent glow that distinguished Han through the Force, the stable, steady presence that couldn't project the outward manifestation of the energy, but could command a strength of spirit unparalleled.

And nearly cried out in horror as she found she couldn't find him either.

What is going on? Where are they? What are they doing? Her mind screamed a thousand questions, and accusations to double her paranoia.

Mental musings began to dissipate as she realized that the obstacles to her perceptions of her two closest allies were in place on their end. What does that mean? She knew they were alive. She knew she would have felt the death of either. So what could cause this strange bubble?

A bubble? But that's like . . .

A shot was fired on the TIE; a near miss, to be sure, but certainly too close for Leia's personal comfort. She checked the scanners, and saw nothing in the way of viable spacecraft around her. Then, where - ?

A second check, this time a visual from the plated viewport, brought her nose to nose with an old spacestation, limping on its orbit with its ancient age apparent to any experienced eye.

A second shot coursed by her, barely missing her port wing, but Leia was focusing instead on the source of the shot. So, something wants me from in there. She concentrated on the Force, stretching her mind out to encompass herself, the stars, everything, to see past the spacestation, to identify the shooter within it.

And almost screamed with delight.

A third shot, this time so near that Leia had to actually evade, forced her to think logically. What did we decide . . . ? Switching her subspace comm to an emergency frequency, she initiated a code of digits and Corellian mechanical ratios into her comm and transmitted the identification package to the station.

She soon turned the comm off when she could no longer stand the loud Wookiee bellows of joy emanating from her speakers.

Following a bruised rib from intense Wookiee enthusiasm and a cup of kaffe, Leia finally managed to inquire as to Han and Luke's whereabouts.

Chewie, seemingly without inhibition, related the escape plan, which was, in essence, nonexistent, and concluded that this escape was as foolish as the Death Star attempt.

Leia, too intently concentrating on his information, didn't laugh at the joke. "If they are on Anselm proper and I can't feel them, they must be with Hovett." And those blasted creatures.

Chewie growled a question.

"I'm not sure, but I know where the most likely location would be. I could get us there. I just need a way in and out."

Chewie whuffed in laughter and placed a hand on Leia's head.

"I'm not going to just say I have a plan when I don't."

Rumble.

"Maybe, but I'm not Han yet. Give me some more time, and I may start saying things like that."

Chewie bared his teeth, and Leia got the impression he was telling her that he would gladly give her that time.

"I am quite pleased that you decided to join Her Highness and I on Anselm, gentlemen." One cultured eyebrow rose. "I was afraid the New Republic would send a delegation . . . less worthy of my time." The eyebrow slide back down. "We have so few visitors around here, lately. This world appears almost barren in the social aspects of things. How dreadfully depressing, don't you think?"

Han found himself speaking before he even registered Hovett's words. "Oh, yeah. Absolutely." Wow, no swearing or insults. Leia would be proud. "Can't imagine why no one comes around here for a social visit."

The younger man's face turned towards Han, eyes wide. "Surely that was not sarcasm, General?"

Guess it wasn't as good as I thought. "Nah, never."

A look of pure disgust rippled quickly over Hovett's stony face, then disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I understand, General Solo."

Hovett removed himself from his repulsorchair, touching his feet to the ground for the first time since Han and Luke had been brought here. General Albun Hovett was not an impressive figure; he reached perhaps to a meter and a half in height and was almost emaciated in his frame. He had round shoulders ending in stick-like arms, and hands that were, at the moment, residing in gloves. His eyes looked half-predatory; as if their owner couldn't decide whether he was in charge or not. Hovett's hair was a dark curly mess, what little hair he actually had on his head, and his face was angled, harsh, and dark.

Sidling up to the ground where Han and Luke sat energy-cuffed, Hovett squatted down and looked about ready to slap Han, when the door flew open and two guards rushed in.

"Sir, General Hovett, sir! Surveillance has located unusual energy deposits out near Bounstd Station. It is entirely possible that she – "

The first guard halted his verbal excitement abruptly at the look on Hovett's face. The miniature general walked straight up to his subordinate and took a deep breath.

"Do you have any idea what I'm doing here, Captain Hemlit?" Hovett was emphatically gesturing at Luke and Han, who watched in amazement as Hovett shrilly, and animatedly, chastised the guard.

Han watched the performance with inner amusement. Up until this point, Hovett had appeared in control and aristocratic. And now it looks like he really can't handle that authority.

Dismissing the guards with little more than some useless orders and nasty street epithets even Han hadn't heard before, Hovett abruptly turned around towards his prisoners.

"I will show you to your quarters, General, Master Skywalker." A small, polite smile and then Hovett was holding the door for the two.

The guy is certifiably nuts. Kinda like Madine on an authority kick.

"I would have hoped that you would have engaged in some sort of conversation, Master Skywalker." An almost genuinely polite smile graced Hovett's face as he led the entourage, including four guards, down a narrow hallway. Han took in the grimy walls, and his eyes widened at a blaster scorch mark at shoulder height. As he passed, he swiped a hand near the mark, noted a slight temperature difference between it and the surrounding walls. A recent blaster shot; it's still warm.

"Perhaps I'm just sick of hearing Imperials gloat?" Luke was holding his own against Hovett's gentile mockery, Han observed. "Must be something they teach at the Academy."

Han chimed in for appearance's sake. "No, kid. The Academy only specializes in blind aiming and idiotic discipline."

Luke smirked as Hovett halted and turned towards Han, effectively ensuring Han realized his tenuous position. Five to two. In strange surroundings. No Leia. He grimaced.

"General, I would advise you to behave yourself." Hovett cocked his head to the right. "After all, I would sincerely regret harming the Princess on your behalf."

Han knew he was playing into Hovett's game, but he didn't care. "Leia?! Where is she?"

"Now, do you really believe that I would just hand over that information? Come now, General. Surely you don't think that little of me?"

"You so much as look at her the wrong way and I will kill you myself in the ugliest way I can think of. Got it?"

"And I am so frightened by your ability to do so at the moment, Solo." Hovett leaned closer. "You can't escape. I guarantee it. Master Skywalker is having enough problems with my pets, and I am sure you can't do it on your own."

"Watch me," Han growled.

Hovett spun on his heel, and continued his trek through the prison complex, not speaking and apparently hoping to intimidate his captives by his mere presence.

Right. Like that'll work. Han's eyes automatically surveyed the hallway as he walked. Filing away both his anger at Hovett and his unease with the scorch mark on the wall, Han tried vainly to keep those thoughts filed as he observed any possible escape routes. The wall is solid durasteel, the ground is stone. No windows. Nothing on the floor . . . wait.

That's interesting.

Han caught a glimpse of metallic deformity on the ground, quickly passed as Hovett's pace increased. Was that a pipe? What's it doing here?

And that was when Han decided he had a really bad feeling about this.

The party continued through the hallway until they came to a single room at the end. Closing the door behind them, Han and Luke were told to "rest" and "get comfortable" in their cell and relax.

Luke seemed to agree to Hovett's suggestion. He slumped against a wall, and stared at the three creatures that seemed to litter this compound as they stared back at him. Han wasn't paying attention.

He knew where the pipe had come from.

And had a good idea about the blaster mark.

And was suddenly not so worried about Leia anymore.

Alright, let's try this review thing again. Press this little button, here, and . . . voila! Easy, simple, disposable!

KR