Leia awoke with a start. And then she proceeded to burst into tears again once she realized where she was and what it was she'd been dreaming. After seeing Han die for her, couldn't she at least dream about their last night together, or their first? Why was her anguished mind showing her images of her beloved being tortured? He was dead and she was still hurting him.

"Well, that's it. I'm certain. He's not here. If he were here then we'd have found him. Agreed?"

"Agreed. So then where is he?"

Luke turned to him.

"I can't tell."

Han, hanging from the wall and shuddering, looked up at Vaux, who was grinning broadly.

"What are we going to do with you?" asked Vaux, staring at Han's battered face as he wrenched his head back by his hair – something he had a penchant for doing.

Han winced and hissed through his teeth. Vaux' smile widened.

"There are so many things, are there not?"

Han could barely talk now, his lips and jaw were so swollen. He still tried.

"…stard," he managed.

Vaux laughed.

"Oh, dear, Slick, what would the Princess say?"

Han narrowed his eyes. One was already so inflamed that he could hardly see through it.

"She'd…sssay the…sssame…you…sssadissst…"

"Slick, really, you sound like a snake."

Han made a feeble attempt to struggle against the chains restraining him, and was stayed by yet another fist. He groaned quietly.

"I really do have trouble deciding what to do with you but, thankfully, it is not my job to decide."

Lakaya walked back in and smiled at him.

"Well rested, are we?" she asked.

Leia ran down the Falcon's boarding ramp and away from the bitter dreams and memories and ran straight into Luke.

"I'm sorry Luke," she said through tears.

Luke closed his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, too, Leia. Are you alright? Did I hurt you when…when you ran into me?"

She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Luke," she wept. "Luke, he's gone, he's gone!"

Luke rested a hand on the back of her head and said nothing.

"If he is not at the site while all others are," said Algara, "Then they must have taken him."

"But why?" asked Atuarre. "What would they want from him?"

"Perhaps a ransom," KeeHeen suggested. "That would not be unusual. But to ransom a dead man…"

"You said the Jedi was not certain of his death?" Algara asked quietly.

"Yes. He seemed to believe that there was still some hope."

Han was kneeling on the stone of the cell-like room he had been thrown in, naked.

His wrists were hanging a foot over his head, clapped in two merciless plasteel manacles that hung from the ceiling on hard alloy chains. The chains ran through a loop on the ceiling and down to a hook by the door so that, if a person so chose, the manacles that bound Han's wrists could be pulled up, increasing his vulnerability and decreasing his defense.

Seven vicious slashes ran across his back, raw, red and bloody, the low light reflecting of the fresh fluid. A man stood behind him, holding a bloodstained whip in his hand, smiling sadistically and Lakaya smirked in the corner.

Han's sharp, irregular breathing echoed off the unforgiving stone of the walls and his perspiration ran off his face in small droplets and splashed onto the floor. The smell of fresh blood lingered mockingly in the stale air, as if to remind him, as though he could forget, that Lakaya was well and truly in control.

Lakaya looked at the man and he obediently raised the whip high over his head. Lakaya nodded and the man brought his arm down.

There was a sound like wood splitting and Han threw back his head, grimacing. He leant forwards again into the darkness, a new slash bleeding with the rest, his breathing labored, pained.

"Are you ready to break yet?"

Han didn't answer. Lakaya nodded once more and the man brought his fist down again, creating another glistening gash on Han's already damaged back.

"Why do you not co-operate?" asked Lakaya. "Can't you see that you can make this easier for yourself? Just give me the information."

Han's breathing was the only reply he gave.

Lakaya' smile faded, and then widened cold-heartedly and she looked at her man again. Han squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what was coming. Lakaya nodded yet again and the man brought his arm down in an arc.

Han cried out this time as the hard leather sliced easily, pitilessly, through his bare flesh, creating a new laceration that ran across his back and filled with blood, before a sharp breath sent it cascading down his back in a dark river.

"Oh, Gods..." he whispered between shuddered gasps as his salty perspiration trickled down his back and burned into the already endlessly searing wounds.

"Gods?" said Lakaya in amused tones. "Gods won't save you."

She stepped forward and bent low to whisper in Han's ear.

"But I will, if, and only if… you beg."

Han did not respond. This would be the one thing Lakaya would not draw from him. She could draw blood, she could draw cries, she could torture and she could starve, but Han would not beg for his life. It was the one satisfaction he would deny Lakaya, even if it meant Lakaya would beat him to death for it.

"No?"

"I...You..." Han began.

He moaned as his strength diminished.

"Very well. Continue until his back is flayed."

"We ought to return home," said Luke quietly to Senator Algara, "it's been three days. But I will leave some of our men to help you, and I'll send some more when we get there."

"Thank you, Skywalker-Commander. You are most generous. We owe you our lives and are greatly sorry for your horrendous loss. If ever you have need of our help-"

"Thank you," Luke whispered.

He turned to the doorway as his sister entered.

"Senator, it was most gracious of you to allow us temporary residence in such wonderful homes. I trust the information I gave you is satisfactory?"

"Yes, Your Highness. It will serve us well. And it was an honor to be of service. If there is anything you require-"

"No," she said softly, "thank you. And I also wish to thank you."

She turned to KeeHeen and his family. They looked taken aback.

"Us?"

"Yes. I wish to thank you, Atuarre, and you, Pakka, for teaching me things I never knew about a man I didn't know long enough, and you, KeeHeen, for accompanying my brother back to find my-"

Her sentence was choked for a second before she continued.

"To find the General's body, no matter that your search was unsuccessful. We must leave now, Luke, or we'll all have to recalculate our jump numbers. It was a privilege to have met you all. Clear skies."

She automatically gave the spacer's traditional farewell and turned and walked away before they could see her tears.

The habit of wishing anyone 'clear skies' was a habit she had picked up from Han.

Luke sat down at the helm of the Peacemaker, the small craft that he and half the security squad were to fly home aboard. A similar craft, the peacekeeper, powered up to his left. To his right sat the Falcon.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Leia?" he asked her through the comm.

"Yes," said Leia. "Han would want it this way."

She was to take the Falcon home by herself. Once home, she would pick up Chewie and explain what had happened.

She cursed herself for her formality but she had already sent ahead the message of events on the planet and arranged the memorial service. She wondered if more effort should have been made to find his body but knew that if her brother could not find it then there was little hope for anyone else.

After the service the Falcon, previously programmed to do so, would take off and jump into hyperspace with no-one at her helm, never to drop into normal space again, lost forever. It seemed right that no-one would ever fly her. She was sure the Wookiee would agree.

And so she would disappear, lost to legend and the stars.

Just as her master.

Han's head hung forward, mouth open, trying to breathe, the pain obstructing his ability to take in oxygen, of which there was even less in here since they had started the fire.

He was still sweating, losing fluid far too quickly and, in the humidity it had nowhere to evaporate to and was doing nothing for his rising body temperature. He opened his eyes occasionally but the perspiration ran into them, blinding him. He shook his head to clear it but it only made the pain worse.

There was a scraping sound and the door swung opened and crashed into the wall. The sound sliced through Han's consciousness. Lakaya walked in, followed by his favourite crony and Vaux. Han tried to raise his head but found himself unable.

Without saying a word, Lakaya started to stoke the fire again while her man walked over to the chain that was secured by the door and unlocked it from its hook. He then pulled it hard. Han was yanked into an almost upright position at which he cried out briefly as his arms were almost wrenched from their sockets.

Lakaya was digging around in the hot coals with a metal rod of some sort. Vaux was watching, interested.

Lakaya held up the rod. The end was glowing almost white. She held it up as Han lifted his head; he managed once he realised what was going to happen.

Lakaya walked around Han to his raw, bloodied back and smiled. Han felt the heat on what was left of his back as Lakaya slowly lowered the rod and could even see it and himself reflected in Vaux's eyes. He squeezed his own eyes shut a split second before Lakaya pressed the rod into his flesh.

He heard it hiss as he felt the searing pain scream through his body and threw back his head, smelled his own charred flesh and boiling blood in the air.

"Ah, ah," he murmured, trying to fight it.

Lakaya moved the rod and Han hung his head again. Vaux had covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief. He was by no means weak but the stench of burnt tissue was enough to turn any man's stomach.

When Lakaya brought the rod back once more, Han kept his eyes open and stared directly at Vaux from beneath his brows as his body shook.

Vaux stared at him. And smiled.

Leia paused at the consoles. The last fingers to grace them had been Han's. She found that did not want to touch them for fear that she erase his memory.

She remembered how the broad shoulders she loved to watch from her seat behind him as they hunched over while he navigated asteroid fields could also shield and protect her, how the powerful arms that could fire and hit at five hundred yards an enemy fighter could also be so gentle and so loving, how the strong hands that could fly across the panels as though of their own accord, the long fingers finding what they sought without any hesitation, could also be so tender and passionate.

"Peacemaker to Falcon. Leia? Are you ready to leave?"

Leia flinched at the sudden intrusion into her reminiscence.

"Y-Yes," she rasped, throat tight and suddenly sore. "Yes, I'm ready."

She heard Luke open a channel to Algara.

"We're preparing for launch. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Our hospitality is the least that we can offer you. If there is anything-"

Leia switched of the comm. She did not want to hear more sympathy.

There was a brief delay as Luke finished his farewells and then their ships powered up and clearance was given.

"Your Highness?"

Reluctantly, Leia answered the hail.

"Yes, Senator?"

"We are grateful for all the assistance you have provided. I would like to convey our most sincere-"

"Thank you, Senator. It is most appreciated.

"Clear skies, Your Highness."

Leia was about to reply but the sudden tears prevented it. Instead she took the Falcon to full power and lifted her clear of the landing pad.

Damn Algara. Damn the information. Damn the situation. Damn it all.

But not Han. Please don't damn Han.

It had been the day and a half through hyperspace that had pained Luke the most. He still had that awful feeling he was missing something.

When they dropped out of hyperspace, Luke watched the Falcon peel away from her escorts and felt the grief rise in Leia's heart. Her task was now to find Chewie and explain to him the terrible events of the past few days.

"Are you all right, Sir," asked his copilot.

Luke shook his head.

"No, Dex. And I don't guess we will be for along time."

Leia saw the figure of the Wookiee before she brought the Falcon in to land and knew that the moment she had been dreading since the morning after the terrible event was now at hand.

The Wookiee waved jovially as she made her approach. Ignorance is bliss, she thought. Bliss ended soon enough, eh, Princess? that little voice reminded her.

Chewie walked up to the Falcon before the engines were even fully powered down. But when the ramp descended and Leia walked down alone, the Wookiee's expression clouded.

The Wookiee expressed his confusion at such a greeting and demanded, albeit lightheartedly, where his friend and copilot was.

But the reply he received caused a deep unease to stir in his heart and his blood to run cold.

"Chewbacca," she whispered, "there's something I have to tell you."

Leia stood at the front of the hall dressed in a jet black gown. Mon Mothma was drawing her speech to a close and Leia knew that soon her turn would come.

Millions were watching, this she knew. Her brother was at her side and there were hundreds in the hall alone, not one of whom Leia did not know. But at the same time, the service was being broadcast live to everyone one Coruscant who wished to see it. People had gathered in the commons to watch via the enormous screen that had been erected there and in bars and public houses and hotel lobbies and shuttle stations all over the planet. Even by shops down the streets, people lined the pavements in order to see. And the service recordings would be taken to other systems and shown there afterward.

Han Solo had been widely loved by all. And he would be greatly missed.

Mon Mothma had stopped talking and Leia walked to the podium in complete silence.

She rested her wrists on the wood in front of her and gathered all her strength. Then she took a deep breath and began.

"It is never easy to look around you and realize that there is something missing. It is harder to realize that you will never get it back. It is harder still to know that nothing can ever replace it.

"General Han Solo was as trustworthy a man as anyone could hope to meet. He saved lives with no regard for his own safety. He stared death in the face on more than one occasion and made sure that death blinked first.

"The New republic was grateful to have Han Solo at her side and all of us are only sorry that we did not have more time.

"When I met Han Solo he was a mercenary, a smuggler. I had no respect for him and that thought shames me deeply. One of his greatest hopes was that some day all people would be considered the same. That one day, love and friendship and comradeship would span all classes.

Rogue squadron sat in the front rows. Leia saw them.

"Looking around us we can see that he had begun to make his dream a reality. For even as I speak I can see those he flew with, those he fought with."

She turned to Luke and Chewie.

"I can see his closest friends, those who loved him like a brother."

She turned back to face those she addressed.

"And rank and class was never a factor in these relationships.

"Han Solo rose from the depths of society to become one of the greatest fighters the Rebellion ever saw. It was thanks to him that there was a ship on hand to rescue me from the Empire. It was thanks to him that there was a pilot alive to put those plans to use. It was thanks to him that the bunker on Endor was breached and destroyed. It is thanks to him that we can stand tall today and speak of friends and comrades, of each other, as equal.

"And it is thanks to Han Solo that this galaxy is a better place: For we knew him. And that is a privilege beyond words."

Leia stood and faced the silent congregation before her and drew up the strength she needed. In her mind were the final words she would say to them - a poem - written hundreds of years ago on Corellia and often included in Corellian wedding vows, as she had hoped it would be for hers. It was one of Han's favorites. She stared hard at the back wall and took a deep breath.

"If I'd never met you
Never known what I could feel
The mind that always longed for you
Would rend and never heal

If I'd never known you
Never known the love you hold
The heart that you have warmed for me
Forever would be cold

If I'd never-"

Luke looked across at her and she bowed her head to hide the tears. When she continued, her voice was weak and trembled and tears had begun to fall from her eyes.

"If I'd never…loved you
N-Never held you in my arms
The days and nights could pass ignored
The storms blend with the calms

And if you'd never been here
I never would have learned to soar
But I've...I've met, and known, and I've loved you
And I will…forever more"

She descended the stairs as the Corellian Anthem began - a choral masterpiece. All those voices singing in the minor key and in harmony reflected in so many ways the man she had lost. Although he hated to admit it, he worked with others in a kind of harmony but always knowing that danger and sadness were never far away. They never had been for as long as he could remember.

"Luke," Leia whispered as they left the great hall. "Luke, I can't do it."

She nodded toward the Falcon when look looked at her, puzzled.

"Do you want me to?"

She shook her head.

"That's not what I mean. Luke, we have to find him."

Luke glanced at her.

"What do you mean?"

Leia stopped walking and turned to him.

"Luke, I can't just send her into hyperspace. I want to find him. When we find him, I'll bring him back and he can be aboard when she jumps, but I can't just let her go. I know it sound stupid but…Shouldn't they go together? Do you understand what I mean?"

Luke nodded.

"Of course. You want to make sure that he's been properly laid to rest."

Han looked up as Lakaya returned to his cell.

"My dear General," she said with a disturbing gleam in her eye.

Han did not grace her mocking with an answer.

"You had best learn to appreciate me. You will be here for a while yet."

"Don't…count on it," he slurred.

She smiled.

"Friends in high places?"

Han nodded.

"And in…low ones."

She laughed.

"Oh, but General," she whispered, a strand of hair caressing his cheek of its own accord. "How can you hope to be rescued if no-one knows you're alive?"

Han's battered face showed as best it could an expression of confusion.

Lakaya snapped her fingers and a small, flat, silver box was brought in by a stormtrooper. The trooper left and Lakaya opened the small box to reveal a screen.

"This was broadcast seven days after your capture, General. That was three days ago. It only reached us this morning. We thought you'd be interested to see it."

She pressed the 'play' button on the tiny console and Han's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

But they were soon wide in realisation.

He was watching his own memorial service.