AN: Time for a breather... back to Han and Leia...

All previous disclaimers apply...

Missing

XVII.

Chewbacca closed the section he'd been toiling over and lumbered into the cockpit. He threw himself into the co-pilot's chair, flicking several switches as he settled. He grinned, pleased, as the correct lights flickered on. He ran a test navigational program, watching very closely for any wrong responses; there were none. The Wookiee deactivated the controls and slouched back, tapping the panel in front of him. Hopefully the Falcon's problems were over.

His large, blue eyes stared out of the window into the cluttered docking bay. He frowned, glancing up at the stars that winked in the darkening sky. It was evening, and Han wasn't back yet. He pulled himself from the chair, reluctant to venture out into the cool night, but eager to find Solo, whom he feared would be crooning drunk in a cantina by now. He gathered up his bandoleer and bowcaster before he left the ship.

OoOOoo

The warm, plush room was lit only by the flickering, dancing light of the holonet screen. It brushed the edges of the furniture, ran up the legs of the two occupants, and blinked, mirrored in their eyes. The images moved fluidly, smoothly, over the screen and the sound was even, unbroken by static.

"Lastly this evening, during research for Hasthaal's consumer magazine, Presenter Sarid Vyner and a cameraman were assaulted as they spoke to the clientele of a local cantina."

The picture changed to one of an irate Corellian spacer. "No," said Han, hiding his face behind his hands, "no comment; go away." He lashed out, the picture wobbled before switching to show a meek Solo being led away by the authorities.

"The pilot has been charged with assault and public disorder. He will…"

A small, stubby finger pointed at the screen as one of the room's occupants recognized the spacer. His voice was squeaky with excitement. "That's him! That's the one I told you about! "

"You're sure?" The other figure leaned closer, peering at the screen.

"Yes! That's Captain Solo."

ooOOoo

Chewbacca stopped dead in the street. He stared in shock and anger at the holo that played mutely in the store window. He groaned in dismay as he watched Han being led out of the cantina by law officers, and he turned from the window. He growled, a low rumble in the base of his throat that caused the people around him to hurry in their steps. Trust Han to find trouble, just when the ship was ready to leave! The Wookiee glanced around, wondering where they kept the local jail in this city.

ooOOoo

Han lay back, hands behind his head, on the cot in his cell; he whistled happily, quite unaffected by the situation he was in. Chewie would figure out soon enough where he was, and come to get him out. At worst, he would be fined or sentenced to a few days in jail. And this place was one of the nicest jails he'd been in - and Han had been in many. It was rather old-fashioned in layout: bars on the windows and doors (it was strange how sometimes things remained the same for several centuries); one cot with mattress; and a latrine in the corner. Han sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot. He squinted, trying to read some of the graffiti scratched onto the walls.

He giggled at one of the lewd jokes, reminding himself to tell it to Chewbacca.

Han stood and crossed the cell to the window. Although he was tall, he had to stand on the tips of his toes to peer out. The window looked out on an open courtyard, surrounded on all sides by other cell blocks. He waved across the yard to another peering prisoner, and sniggered a little more over the joke.

A jingling of keys brought his attention to the door of his cell. It swung open, revealing a grinning guard.

"You're free to go, Farrell."

Han looked almost disappointed. Chewie must be playing it low-key. "Huh?" he asked.

"The charges have been dropped," the guard explained, the sides of his mouth still curling.

Han hesitated, suspicious; if anything was guaranteed to make him uneasy, it was a smiling uniform. It usually meant something was going down. "Why?"

The man shrugged. "You've been lucky; don't question it."

As Han stepped from the cell and followed the guard through the prison to the desk area, his feeling of unease fading, until he felt almost elated. He was being freed quicker than he thought he would be. As soon as he made it back to the Falcon, he and Chewie could blast off from this rock and head back to Raymar. He took his gun belt from the desk officer, strapped it on and, saying a jaunty goodbye to them all, stepped from the building.

It was cool outside and a light night breeze wafted along the city street. Han shivered, drawing the collar of his shirt together. He glanced around, looking for the big Wookiee, almost certain now that it was his partner who had twisted a few arms to get him freed. But there was no sign of Chewbacca. Han shrugged, figuring Chewie was back at the ship, getting her ready for take-off. Whistling again, he started up the street; then stopped, suddenly wary.

At a far corner stood five beings. Two were scruffy humans, the others looked like some creative deity's discarded mistakes. Han instantly recognized the type: Jabba's goons. They must have seen the Holo broadcast. He groaned inwardly, but turned nonchalantly to walk the other way. He stopped again, not believing his poor luck. A squad of Stormtroopers was headed toward him. It was a choice between two evils, and the way Han figured, neither of them was any less evil than the other.

"Captain Hanani Farrell?" the uniformed officer with the squad called Solo's alias.

Han looked behind him, watching Jabba's men melt into the shadows; then he turned back to the soldiers. "Yeah," he said slowly, "what of it?"

"You will accompany us, please."

Although the Imperial had said "please," Han knew it was an order, and not a request; there was no room for debate. He nodded, joining in formation with the white-clad soldiers. Talk about going from bad to worse.

ooOOoo

"Is he coming?" The voice was eager with excitement and anticipation.

The elder man nodded, pulling closed his uniform jacket. "He's coming. I sent some troopers to pick him and his partner up. They'll be here soon."

A huge grin played over the delighted face. "I can't wait to see him again."

ooOOoo

Chewbacca cursed as he hit yet another dead-end street. He stopped and glanced around, scratching and shaking his head in frustration. He was lost. An hour of tramping through the city hadn't produced the jailhouse; all he'd gotten were sore feet, a headache and a blistering temper. If Han dared to ask him, "What kept you?" he would find two very large and very hairy paws around his neck. The Wookiee started back up the street, turned a corner, and spotted a patrol of law officers walking their slow beat. He followed them, certain he would find their headquarters when they returned to it.

The night was deeper and the streets emptier when the Wookiee finally found his goal. He allowed the patrol to enter first, as he stood examining the building. If Wookiees could whistle, Chewbacca would have. The prison was enormous, even for the size of the city he was in; many lights shone in windows, casting an eerie yellow hue across the street. There were lookout posts set at regular intervals along the walls; armed officers slouched in boredom at their stations. Still, he surmised, he and Han had gotten into and out of places more heavily guarded than this.

Chewbacca crossed the street, avoiding a near-collision with a landspeeder, and ducked down into the door. He hoped he could persuade the officers to release Han. If persuasion failed, then it would have to be another jail break, which would add another "not-to-be-visited" planet to their list.

The desk sergeant's eyes bugged in their sockets as the very large and extremely fierce-looking Wookiee entered his office. He stood and walked calmly to the desk, unbuckling the safety strap on his holster. He cleared his throat and craned his neck as he looked up at Chewbacca. "How may I help you—uh—sir?"

Chewie glanced around the room, taking in the number of law officers present as he growled out his request, knowing the human wouldn't understand a word he said.

The sergeant's face remained blank when Chewie had finished. "Eh?" he said.

Chewbacca threw his arms in the air, pretending to be exasperated by the puny humans. He wanted them to be as nervous as possible, and he had learned that an irate Wookiee was a good way to achieve this.

He started to mime. First, he pointed to the holo screen in the corner of the office; then he mimicked Han's gestures by hiding his face behind his hands and punching out a pretend cameraman. He finished by holding a glum expression, and putting his hands together as though they were bound. His encore of pointing to the cells completed his act.

The law officer stared at him, perplexed; then understanding washed over his face. "You're here about Farrell?" he laughed.

Chewie nodded, pleased that he'd been understood, but not liking the laughter.

"Oh, he's long gone," the sergeant chuckled, motioning to the door. "Minute he walked out of here, he got picked up by the Imps."

Chewbacca howled angrily, his eyes fixed on the laughing officer, his teeth bared. Had Han been set up somehow? If so, by whom?

The officer held his hands up, trying to pacify the Wookiee. "Don't get all riled up! The Imperials have their headquarters on the west side; you can see your friend there - maybe."

The angry Wookiee stepped back into the Hasthaal night. He was troubled. Han was in Imperial hands again. It seemed that no matter where Solo went, he attracted those white-armoured devils. Chewie sighed heavily, starting his long walk back to the Falcon. A break out from jail would have been hard enough, but to attempt one from an Imperial holding area was suicide - usually, he reminded himself; after all, they had saved the princess. This called for some deep thinking, detailed planning, and some gear from their ship.

"Chewbacca?" a voice asked.

Chewie whirled, half-expecting Han to be behind him, and for the desk sergeant's story to have been an elaborate joke. It wasn't Han.

"Chewbacca?" the Imperial captain asked again.

Chewie glanced behind him as he heard many armoured footsteps. A squad of Stormtroopers encircled him. He surrendered without a fuss, knowing that he would be seeing Han sooner than he had figured.

Well, there was a bright side to every situation.