He'd stormed into the med bay with questions, and he'd stormed out of the place determined to kill someone, and he knew that when he did, it was going to be slow and agonizing. He didn't have any idea who he was looking for, or where they could possibly be, but as murderously angry as Han Solo felt, it didn't matter, somehow he would find the son of a bitch behind this. He was going to tear the whole planet apart until he got the answers he was looking for.

Somehow it occurred to him to stop by the ferry and check it first, to see if the attack had happened there, and, if Charon had been telling the truth about her crew being gone on leave. For their sake they better hope she was telling the truth, because if not, Han wouldn't have any qualms about killing every last one of them, how could they let this happen to their captain?

He got on board the ferry and searched the ship room by room, deck by deck. There were no signs of life, even the droids were all turned off and charging, there was also no sign of a struggle anywhere. So, if he had to guess, the attack hadn't happened here, so what did that prove? That would've been easy. Now he had to go out and search the whole sector, with five million people coming and going every which way. He had a few ideas where to look first. Chewie said Charon had gone into the med bay out of uniform, meaning she likely hadn't gone out to round up fares, meaning this hadn't been business for her. He knew the kinds of places she used to hang out in when they were younger and it was a safe bet she'd return to those roots for a recreational night on the town. The problem was there was no shortage of bars, clubs and cantinas around here, he'd just have to search them all and see if anyone happened to see or hear anything.

After the first five places, Han was starting to realize he must be insane, but as long as his mind was determined to keep going, his body followed suit, and he didn't care what it took, he was going to find the bastard responsible for this and he was going to enjoy slowly murdering him.

He saw the name of the next bar on the street and he almost turned around. It was a place bounty hunters frequented often, and a planet like this, there was no shortage of targets they'd be on the lookout for. Jabba's guys could be found here quite often, just what he did not need right now, but his sense of moral duty overrode any life preservation instincts and he marched into the place.

The first thing that hit him was a familiar stench, ozone, seared flesh, and burnt armor. As he entered the room he noticed the air was a little hazy from smoke. People stood around in small circles and most of them seemed gathered around the middle of the room and lowly murmured to one another. Han felt their eyes on him but ignored it as he walked over to them, and stopped when he saw the stains and scorch marks in the middle of the floor.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"Bounty hunter got fried," the bartender answered.

"By who?"

The bartender was a human who looked about 60 with tattoos on his hairy arms and gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, and shrugged, "'nother bounty hunter."

"Any idea who?"

"Nah, through all that armor, who can tell?"

Han felt very strange, almost like he was in a trance as he walked over to the bar and ordered a drink so he didn't look inconspicuous.

"What exactly happened?"

"Hell if I know," the bartender shook his head, "this guy just put his helmet back on and was getting ready to leave, when this other guy comes in and just blasts him. The meat speeder took the body away half an hour ago."

"What happened to the other guy?" Han inquired.

"Left," the old man answered.

Han shrugged, "That was it?"

"Eh, you know how it is...bounty hunter kills the guy they're hunting, that's status quo, sometimes things happen...bounty hunter kills another bounty hunter, that's less than status quo, everyone stays out of it, no one wants to get involved, because it could be over anything; could be they were both after the same target, could be this guy slept with that one's wife, or girlfriend, or sister, or mother, who knows? Just better to stay out of those kinds of disputes."

Han looked back at the scorch marks on the floor. "Either of them say anything?"

"Nope, the one just came up to the other and bam, bam, bam. First blast probably did it, but I guess this guy wanted to send a message."

"Yeah..." Han absently replied as he looked at the floor, "I guess so."

He paid for his drink and left, and doubled back to the ferry. He all but ran to Charon's private quarters, opened the closet and dug through to the back.

And there it was. The same bounty hunter armor he'd found when he came on the ferry for the first time after Charon became the captain. It had been several years, but he remembered, he remembered Charon entering the room, he remembered their discussion.

"Being poor I have had to do a lot of things that I did not want to do. I did a short stint of bounty hunting before I joined the ferry."

"Bounty hunting?" Han made a sound in his throat and cynically added, "Impressive."

Charon moved past him as she told him, "The pay's good but you need a carbonite constitution to do that kind of work and I just couldn't stay with it too long."

"How long?" he wanted to know.

"I did three jobs...then I went to work on the ferry," she answered. "Then I had to swallow my pride and do it again. My last job was for some guy named Jabba the Hutt."

"I know Jabba," Han told her, "I've done a couple jobs for him."

"I worked for him a few months ago, put myself out as a freelance hunter offering my services, he was looking for a guy that stiffed him, his men couldn't catch the guy, so I took care of it."

And it seemed, she'd gone and taken care of this problem just as easily.

He looked at the carbine blaster that rested against the armor and picked it up, the barrel wasn't exactly still warm but there was just enough heat in it that Han could tell it had been fired recently. It was adequately charged, not full power but it wouldn't run down anytime soon, it had definitely been used more than once since its last charging.

Now it all started to make sense. Charon had come back here, suited up, tracked the bounty hunter down, blown him away, came back here, put the armor back, no doubt sent whatever clothes she'd been wearing down to the ship's incinerator, changed into a different set of clothes, and walked herself over to the med bay. She was so methodical about the whole thing it made Han want to throw up.

It seemed he just stood there in her quarters for the longest time unable to move. The whole time he felt like his blood was literally boiling in his veins and backing up through his system, getting ready to just explode. This sudden revelation made him feel an entirely new level of murderous violence that he'd never experienced before and he couldn't explain now. He had no one to get mad at, the man responsible was dead, Charon had taken care of it herself, and he...he hadn't been there when it happened, and he wasn't there to make it right. He hadn't been there to do anything, and he felt like the worst failure who ever lived because of it. He felt...utterly powerless, a feeling combined with a ravenous urge to hit something, make something or someone feel the pain that was shooting through his veins right now. Instead, the sensation was making his heart pound in his throat and his eyes pulsate until he could hardly even see, he grabbed two handfuls of his hair and yelled at the top of his lungs until his throat was raw.

He didn't know how long it took to realize he wasn't just screaming, he'd collapsed on his knees in the middle of the room and was sobbing violently. How could this have happened? How could it happen on the very planet where he'd docked, and just been a few hundred meters away from what happened? How could he not have known? How could he not have been there to stop it, or at least make it right? He remembered years ago when he broke up their marriage and he remembered why. He remembered the gang of thugs that busted into their home in the middle of the night, about ripped his arm out of its socket and put Charon on her knees, forcing the barrel of a blaster down her throat, to get the money he'd taken. At the time that had been the worst thing he'd ever seen her subjected to, and it was his fault it had happened. He couldn't stand the idea of it happening ever again...and he realized now that this was far worse than that. And maybe this time hadn't been connected to anything he did, but the fact that he hadn't been able to do anything about it, couldn't even track the son of a bantha down and kill him himself, torturing him the entire time, hearing him scream in agony, feeling the blood on his hands as he murdered the man by inches, made him feel ten times as guilty, and powerless.

At some point he collapsed face down on the floor and beat one fist against the floor until he thought he'd break it. He didn't remember much after that, and he didn't know how much time passed, but the next thing he was aware of was waking up on the floor, the sensation of half dried tears clinging to the skin on his face making him feel very weird.

When he finally left the ferry, the sun was starting to come up. He went back to the med bay, with a slightly better understanding of what had happened here, but he had no idea what he was going to do next. He just hoped he could get back before Charon woke up. Even though he apparently wasn't supposed to know what she'd done, he didn't want her to put the pieces together of what he'd gone out last night to try and accomplish. It would be a natural conclusion, what else could she really expect of him? But for some reason, they both had their secrets to keep about what had transpired that night.


Charon hadn't heard the sound of someone coming up behind her, the only indication she had that anything was wrong was a blinding pain in the back of her head that disoriented her and had her throwing her head back and screaming in pain, every movement seemed slowed down immensely, even her voice seemed to come out slower than it should've.

The next thing she knew she was on the ground in the alley and someone was hovered over her. A bounty hunter's helmet with a dark tinted visor was the only thing staring down at her. Charon didn't have any idea what was going on, and though she had debilitating pain shooting through various parts of her body, she was determined not to go down without a fight. Her arms didn't necessarily want to work but she forced them up and all but ripped the helmet off the hunter's head. It fell to the ground with a clatter and she just looked him in the face. She knew several bounty hunters throughout the galaxy from her own stint in the business, Jabba the Hutt, she recalled, had several of them on his payroll. She didn't recognize the man staring back at her, but it didn't matter. The ferryman raised her arm, curling her hand into a fist and hit him several times in the face. Her knuckles throbbed as the skin was busted open on them and she could feel them bleeding, she didn't care, she only hoped his face was experiencing half the pain that she was. She got a few punches in, before he retaliated by beating her across the side of her head, then grabbed her by the neck and throttled her, hitting her head against the hard ground. It left her incapacitated, she couldn't move, she could hardly even breathe, the only sound she could emit was a low occasional grunt, but it didn't do anything to change the fact she could feel everything and she never blacked out, and she sorely wished she could.

When it was all over, she lay there staring at the man as he suited up again. If she was supposed to be dying, it seemed that something should be happening, her life flashing before her eyes, everything getting dark, but everything just looked normal. She watched as he put his helmet back on and left the alley without a care in the planet. It was only once she knew he was gone that she forced her body into action.

Get up, she screamed in her head.

She pressed her feet against the ground to start to move up, but she realized it wasn't happening, and she forced herself to turn over so she could push up on her hands. It was a very slow and painful process, and all her body wanted to do was lay there in a heap.

Get up or you're going to die, she told herself. It might not be true or it might, either someone else would find her here and finish her off, or, worse, someone would find her and try to help her, in which case she'd wish she was dead.

Charon became aware of a strange sensation deep in her chest, which moved in perfect time with the shaky breaths that were coming out of her mouth. It was a sensation she hadn't known for many years, and it was much weaker than it normally was. Her body was going through the motions of dry sobbing, her body was betraying her and trying to cry.

Get up! she screamed at herself, You're too old to act like this, get up now!

Every part of her body protested the movement, she finally braced herself on her hands and feet and slowly pushed up. One leg hurt worse than the other and she wavered on it, twice threatening to fall back down, but she forced herself to stand up, and once that was accomplished, she forced herself to walk.

The few squares it had taken her to get from the ferry to this point hadn't been worth a second thought when she came this way, but going back the same way, the same distance, to get back to her ship, now felt like it was taking an eternity. Every step she felt like her leg was going to go out from under her, pains shot throughout her back, her head, her whole body. All she could think about was getting aboard the ferry and going straight to the sick bay.

It felt like it took an hour to get back to her ship, but once Charon finally returned, she headed to the sick bay and helped herself to an emergency stimulant, it would dull her senses enough that she could walk almost normally, so she could do what had to be done.

Charon didn't really know just when the plan had come to her, but it all fell together so effortlessly, there was no way it couldn't work. She gave the stimulant enough time to kick in, then headed for her quarters. She was still in pain but it wasn't throbbing now. She went over to the closet and opened the door, and behind her clothes, there was her suit of body armor from her old days as a bounty hunter.

She'd hated the work, but she was good at it, and it paid well. After a few times she took herself out of the game, but she kept the armor just incase the need for another job would ever arise. Time seemed to stand still as she put the armor on, she hated what it represented, but the truth was it felt like a second skin to her, that was the true reason she'd never gotten rid of it. She picked up her carbine blaster and methodically made her way off the ship, the stimulant numbing her pains to a dull roar, so she was able to stand straight and balance her weight as she walked. She had a good idea what should be her first stop to find the man who attacked her, there was a bar on this planet that was constantly frequented by bounty hunters across the galaxy, it was their own watering hole so to speak. She'd stop there first, and if he was there, she was going to settle the score once and for all, and as far as anybody who witnessed it would know, it was just one bounty hunter frying another, nothing to see there, just a typical day in this line of work.


Charon's eyes opened when she felt something choking her, she looked down and realized it was Han's arms snaked around her waist, she couldn't move, she could hardly breathe.

"Han...Han," she told the man sleeping beside her.

"Whas'it?" The half-awake Corellian murmured.

"Let me go," she said as she tried wriggling in his grasp.

Han's eyes opened as he looked at her and concluded, "I don't think I can."

She looked at him and asked, "What're you talking about?"

"Seems I already did that once, and I've been paying for it ever since...well, both of us," he said as he reluctantly drew back.

Charon sat up, turned and looked at him as she asked, "What're you talking about?"

He sat up and said, "Let me ask you a question, are you ever going to blame me for anything?"

Charon about laughed. "What?"

"Most of our problems go right back to when I stole that 37,000 credits, if I hadn't done that, we'd still be married, we would've been together this whole time...and I keep thinking back to that time and what I never heard then and what I've never heard since is you blaming me for what we went through."

"Why would I?" she asked, "hell, if I'd seen the money first I would've taken it and we'd still be in the exact same mess we were. What happened back then wasn't your fault, what happened to me wasn't your fault."

It was obvious he didn't fully believe that, but what he said to her was, "The old instincts still come back...I just hate that there's nothing I can do."

"You already did," Charon told him. "You made sure I was here, instead of out in public when I had that meltdown yesterday...and I know you're not going to tell anyone about what happened." She sheepishly added, "I'm starting to remember some of the things I said and I feel like an idiot."

"You?" he asked sarcastically.

"I know it sounds stupid, but I really just figured at this point in my life...actually being where I am, I took over the ferry, I became captain, I thought it just wasn't possible that this could happen, that it could even still be an option...and when I realized it could...it just brought everything back from what we went through when we were young and we couldn't do anything about people treating us like garbage. Remember that time after that festival when we got trampled?"

"Oh yeah, I remember."

Charon shook her head, "Once we got out of there, I thought I'd never have to go through that again...the other night when I walked in I swore if they stuck me with another human medic I was going to kill somebody this time."

Han smirked at her comment. That was the hellraiser he'd married on a whim, and he was still proud of it all these years later, even if he couldn't ever bring himself to admit it to anyone else.

"I like the droids, they're impersonal, they do their job, they keep their voice boxes shut except to ask pertinent questions, those buckets of bolts know how to make you feel like a person more than humans do. How's that for irony?" she asked.

"There's a reason they took over most work sectors," Han pointed out.

"I figured all I had to do was wait for the pain blocker to wear off and I could be on my way, business as usual..." she turned her head and looked at him, "And then you show up."

He grimaced, "Sorry."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said sheepishly.

"Hey, it was nice for a change," he replied, "we never really got to that fighting part of our marriage."

Charon laughed, "You are weird, Han Solo."

"So they tell me."

They looked at each other for a minute in silence, before Han finally asked, "So when're you leaving?"

"In five days."

"Are you alright?" he asked earnestly.

"I will be," she answered. "Thank you."


Charon finished tucking her pants into her boots and got up from the bunk. She headed out to the lounge and asked the wookiee, "Hey Chewbacca, where's the cowboy?"

Chewie howled in answer.

"Yeah that would make sense," she said, "Well, when he gets back tell him I went over to the ferry. We're leaving in five days if you guys want to come over and visit."

Before she could head towards the boarding ramp, Chewbacca chattered to get her attention. She turned back and asked him, "What's up, Chewie?"

The wookiee answered in a series of small whining-not-whining sounds.

Charon's eyes widened slightly, "You told Han I was at the med bay? But how did you know-"

Chewbacca snorted in answer.

Charon slowly nodded, "Okay, that makes sense."

Chewie grunted a further comment.

"No, you're right," Charon said, "I definitely did not want him to find out about it...but, somehow, though I'm not sure how, it seems to have worked out for the better this way." She stepped over to the tall furry beast and hugged him and said, "Thanks, Chewie."

The ferryman's eyes widened at the guttural gargling sound the wookiee was making in response, then felt her brain rattling around her skull when she felt one of Chewie's massive paws patting her on the back of the head. She chuckled, "Thanks, buddy, I really appreciate it."

Chewbacca howled inquiringly.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," she answered, "I'm...doing a lot better."


Han made his way up the boarding ramp of the ferry and looked around. The place was still quiet, there didn't seem to be anyone around, the droids were still being charged, everything was in its exact space...it was unnerving.

"Charon?"

No answer. He made his way from room to room, and found himself in the captain's quarters, she wasn't there either. He sat on the foot of her bunk and tried to figure out what was going on, when the door to the fresher popped open, he looked up and saw Charon exiting wrapped in a towel.

She stood at the doorway, her feet shoulder width apart and her arms folded over her chest as she commented in something resembling amusement, "I seem to be in the wrong business, every time I get my clothes off, everybody and his brother has to come in for a look-see."

"I can leave," he offered as he got to his feet.

"Why bother?" she asked. "You already saw everything there was to look at twice this week in the same day."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, instead his attention was diverted to the bruises around Charon's shoulders and around her neck, in four days they'd gone from dark blue and purple to a sickening bluish green with yellow around the edges, matching the ones on her face perfectly.

"How're you doing?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Still sore, but better, what brings you by?"

"Uh, well," he held up what he'd brought, "I know you have an easier time getting stuff since you don't have to worry about Jabba's bounty hunters recognizing your face, but I picked up another bottle of brandy, thought you could use it when you leave."

"That's a safe bet," she replied, "thank you."

There was a pause between them before Charon asked, "So, where's Chewie?"

"Oh he had something else to do," Han explained. "He said to tell you hi."

"So why'd you come here?" Charon asked, "Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I know you'll be leaving tomorrow and...I'd prefer not to do this in front of your whole crew...for that matter, are you sure those droids are off?"

"They're inactive, you don't have to worry about them interfering," she answered.

He decided to go with the truth, and get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright before you left," he told her. "I mean...I don't know when...if we'll see each other again, I hope so but, it always seems to be a long time and...I just...I..."

Charon offered a small and somewhat amused smile.

"I appreciate your concern, Han, but I'll be fine...it's over."

"Yeah...except for this part." Even he knew killing someone was the easy part, not remembering every single day what they did to you...yeah, well, he'd probably be a better voice of experience if he could ever really stop thinking about his court-martial from the Imperial Navy instead of just acting like he did. Instead, for all the years it had been and how great it had been since to have Chewie at his side, he had to admit if only to himself, the betrayal still stung like a burning flesh wound.

Charon shrugged her bruised shoulders and responded, "Story of our lives, we survive what people do to us, we'll survive the rest of it. What choice do we have?"

"Oh the same one we always had, none," Han answered.

They shared a small laugh.

"I'll let you get dressed," he said as he headed for the door.

"I'll be out in a few minutes," Charon told him.


Charon was not out in a few minutes. Han went in to make sure nothing had happened and found her asleep on the bed, still wrapped in the towel, face down with her arm slung over the side of the bed so she actually touched the floor.

Han stepped over to the bed, grabbed her hand and set her arm up on the mattress again, rolled her over onto her back, pulled the covers out from under her and draped them over her, she never moved or in any way registered his presence. He hovered over her for a couple minutes just watching her, knowing he had to leave her again, and hating it, but knowing there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He leaned down and lightly kissed her once on the forehead, and once on the cheek and quietly murmured, "I love you, Charon."

It didn't matter that she couldn't hear it, or didn't say it back, he knew she did. They liked to take their shots at each other, but for the longest time, each was the only person either could expect to get any respect from. The rest of the world saw them as trash and thieves. The only time he'd risen above that was in the Imperial Navy, and since that was ancient history, the galaxy viewed him as something to ignore, the times he wasn't regarded as some two-credit piece of Corellian trash smuggler. Charon had pulled herself up in the galaxy through, maybe not the most honest means, but she'd made a name for herself and it was something no one could ever take away from her. At times he felt envious of what she'd accomplished, but the bulk of it was he was happy for her. At least one of them could merit respect on a regular basis.

A hazy feeling came over him, he couldn't describe it but he felt like something was reigning him in, whispering in his ear 'stay, stay, never leave', it was an age old sensation. It had about killed him to leave Charon the first time, and he still hated when they had to part ways, he especially hated it now knowing she would be alone to deal with whatever was to come. But he knew her, she could handle it. Like she pointed out, it was what they'd done their whole lives.

Han left her quarters and was met with an unexpected sight. Several guys in matching uniforms tiredly staggering on board the ferry. It looked like her crew had finally ended their leave and come back to sleep it off and regroup before they went through all protocols tomorrow to take off. They looked like they'd lived pretty hard the last week, but given how few chances they had to get off this ship and have some fun, he guessed he couldn't blame them.

One of the crewmen walked towards him, and Han realized it wasn't to see him. The door had already hissed shut behind him.

"Word of advice," he told the younger man before he reached the door, "don't go in there."

The crewman stopped in his tracks and looked like he was considering whether to listen or not, and then merely nodded and turned around.

"And don't even think of using the comm link," Han added in a subtle threat.

"Yes, Captain Solo."

Han did a double take and ran after him. "What'd you call me?"

The man stopped and turned to him, "I said 'Yes, Captain Solo'."

Han looked at him for a minute, dumbstruck, and asked, sounding outraged, "Why'd you call me that?"

"The captain said to, sir," he answered.

Han's eyes doubled in size. "She did?"

"Yes sir."

Han stood there frozen for a minute as he took that in. He slowly turned away from the young man and murmured under his breath, "Of course she would..." He turned back to the man and concluded, "Dismissed."

"Yes sir."

"Oh," Han remembered Charon's plan, and added, "You better check on those droids, one of them went haywire and tried to kill your captain last week."

"Will do, sir."

Sir, 'Captain Solo', the whole thing made him smirk even though he didn't know why. Well, at least there was one place in the universe outside of the Millennium Falcon he could expect to be shown some respect.