To The Council:

I regret to inform you that I am no longer able to remain a part of the Jedi order. Things have come up recently and I cannot hold fast to the beliefs of the Jedi as well as those of my own heart. Unfortunately, I will therefore never be promoted to knight or master. I would ask that you turn your attention to Padawan Luke Diatu, who is more than capable of taking my place as a knight of the Republic.

Sincerely,

Leia Janren

The letter was left unsent on her dresser. Leia wasn't even sure why she'd gotten up at dawn, failed to meditate and instead wrote that note to get it off her chest. She had even taken the care to use her alias and that of her brother. They had received them from their father; Diatu was the surname of a family long gone and the name Janren was offered to Leia by her own uncle.

Now she got up from her bed in the Skywalker house, walked to the middle of her room and sat down on the floor cross-legged. She couldn't concentrate before; perhaps the letter had gotten out her anxiety. But once again she found it increasingly difficult to feel the Force flowing through everything and everyone. The thought of people brought her to thoughts of Han, and she was inclined to give up on meditation altogether.

Perhaps it would have been better for the both of them if she had told him that she could never feel the same way about him, or even if she'd opened up but said that he deserved someone he could actually marry without fear of penalty. Leia shook that from her head. She always preferred to think in the present or else in the future. Dwelling in the past wouldn't solve anything.

The future wasn't promising, either. If she sent the letter, she might have a chance at a better life for both herself and the man she loved. That relied on Han's devotion and dedication, two things she still doubted, despite her love for him. And what if his intent was not to marry her, where would she go then? No, Leia thought, it was best to concentrate on the present.

And presently, she wanted to see the Millennium Falcon.

Ten minutes later she was inside Master Skywalker's speeder. Although Leia had never been the pilot that her brother was, she was more than capable of holding her own in a small craft. Coupled with her incredible knowledge of the Force it was no more difficult than it was for Luke. As she sped into town, she passed the hospital where Padme had been recently held and, she thought excitedly, where she and Han had their first kiss. Not counting the one on the Falcon, that is. Leia's heart was racing wildly at a pace that rivaled the speeder, and she knew it was not entirely from the thrill of flight.

But as she pulled into the hangar where the Falcon was…or more correctly should have been, anger boiled inside her. There was no sign of the pilot or his Wookiee friend, and he had said absolutely nothing about leaving. Leia would have been able to tell if he was in any danger, and therefore leaving was the only word for it. She felt her rage rising in her throat, indignant that he hadn't bothered to tell her where he was going or that he was going at all. "Excuse me," she called to a mechanic that was patrolling the hangar. "Do you know where the ship that was just here went?" The mechanic shook his head, and Leia swore under her breath, cursing Han for not caring about her. "Looks like I won't be needing that letter after all. At least Father will be happy."

She had no idea that the smuggler hadn't really left her, at least not in the way she'd thought. Han was en route to pick up some cargo that Jabba had entrusted him with. The Hutt had promised that he wouldn't give him any more trouble if he finished what he started. "Well," he said, turning to Chewbacca, "looks like this is the last trip we'll be making." The Wookiee howled in response. "I told you already, Jabba's letting me off easy. He's not happy to see me go, but with all the tight scrapes we've been in, it really wouldn't be a bad idea to retire."

Chewie was obviously not pleased: he shook his head vigorously. "Not really retire," Han reassured him. "Just find someone new to work for, someone a little more…forgiving. I was thinkin' maybe we could pose as members of some kinda flying brigade, then use our status to help us smuggle stuff outta the Republic. It's just a thought," he added.

"Oh fine, I'll admit it. The real purpose of the trip," he sighed, but the Wookiee nodded for him to continue, "is to get some people off of my mind. Okay, mainly Leia, but it can't be healthy for a guy to be so infatuated with someone like that. And don't you give me any of that 'just a bit of lovesickness' crap, cause we both know that ain't the way I am. Besides, it's not like I can marry the girl."

Han checked the coordinates for the trip. Soon they would be at the warehouse where Jabba claimed the goods were being stored until he came to pick them up. The trip was fairly smooth compared to his other exploits; this translated to only a few near captures and one or two Jedi starships that were easily avoided. "Sure hope our leaving didn't rub her the wrong way," he muttered to himself. "She's pretty short fused, but she's got a lotta spirit. You gotta admire that kinda thing."

Chewie made another noise, this one more pleasant. "Go back for her?" Han repeated. "Well, yeah, I was kinda hoping we would. Now that the Hutt's off our tail, maybe we could work something out. It's a fantasy, I know, but hey, if we don't at least try, it'll never happen. So it's settled then. We'll get the goods, get outta here, head to Jabba's, then see if Leia still wants me around."

Despite the fact that Han would probably put a bullet in anyone who so much implied it, he really missed her. "Maybe that's why I left," he said aloud, Chewie responding with a sympathetic look. "Because I love her, and I'm not used to feelin' so strongly about anyone. It's not natural. It's just not Han Solo."

Then again, he thought, maybe it really was. He never had any real family that was there for him, so perhaps he just never learned how to love someone. Now that he did it scared him. Would he suddenly become a softie who thought smuggling was no way to make a living? Would he be too moral to use whatever job he got as a cover?

Heck, no! Not until the day Leia would forgive him on the spot for not saying goodbye without so much as an insult. Which, of course, would never happen.