Disclaimer with First Chapter.

First of all:

owpheonix :Wow I got a review! And you didn't even mention my dodgy tense thing going on! Thank you! It is a really nice first review and I shall keep it forever. (Or until my hotmail account expires, whichever comes first!)

cookiemunster xoxox

So onwards we go!

'What are we going to do?' asked Wedge looking at Wes and Hobby for some sort of answer.

They didn't elicit one. Both just looked back at him with looks of complete incredulity on their faces.

The party that had been arranged by the Rebels had gone on long into the night. But now it was early morning and most of the partygoers had shambled or staggered or crawled back to their (or someone else's) quarters.

The three remaining men, Wedge, Wes and Hobby, of Rogue Squadron fame, were stood around a fourth man who was lying spread eagled in a drunken stupor on the floor. Luke Skywalker appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

'Perhaps he's dead?' suggested Wes not very helpfully.

'He's not dead, he's still breathing.' answered Hobby, slightly annoyed with his friend's grim suggestion about the young Jedi's mortality.

'Well perhaps he's got brain damage then. Or perhaps he's had a heart attack' said Wes, 'or he might have even…'

Wes was interrupted by the other two shouting 'SHUT UP, WES!' loud enough to wake the dead. Or the very drunk, it appeared, as a small moan could be heard from the younger man on the floor.

'We need to find him a place to sleep' Wedge said. It was the first sensible suggestion of the night. One of the least sensible suggestions of the night had been 'Hey, lets play another drinking game everyone!'

'Come on lets move him.' said Hobby picking up Luke's legs.

Han Solo couldn't sleep. Nothing new there, thought Han, cynically. One thing in particular was keeping him awake that night cycle though. And that had nothing to do with Jabba and the large amount of money he owed the Huttese crime lord.

What was keeping him awake that night was the sudden arrival of Bria Tharen back into his life.

Earlier:

'Well you didn't shoot me on sight,' said Bria, 'should I take that as a good sign?'

She laughed nervously at her reference to the last thing Han had said to here on that fateful day on Ylesia.

'If you like.' said Han, in a voice completely devoid of any emotion.

But inside Han's emotions were going haywire. Questions were bouncing around his brain. 'What is she doing here?', 'Where did she come from?' and 'Since when did she think it was o.k. to speak to me?'. But above all these burning questions, a fact popped out of his subconscious and came tumbling into his mouth before he had chance to engage brain.

'I thought you were dead. Fett told me you died on intelligence operation.' he said.

Bria looked at him, shock registering on her face. Leia too was also looking at Han in shock but not for the same reasons.

Questions were also bouncing around the Princess' mind. 'How does Han know Commander Tharen?'

'Very well' thought Leia, answering her own question, 'if this 'discussion' is anything to go by.'

'Fett lied. I was the only member of my team to escape that operation alive. He might have made it up to hurt you, Han. He knew that news of death would probably have upset you.' answered Bria, with a great deal more feeling than Han had shown her.

'Well I'm glad you're not dead'. said Han.

A look of hope crossed Bria's face. Did that mean he wanted to-?

'But that doesn't mean', he went on, 'that I want anything to do with you.'

And with that he turned and headed to the Falcon. He went in search of a decent stiff drink as opposed to the paint stripper they were drinking at the celebration

As her left Bria was about to call after him. But she thought the better of it and headed, instead back to her quarters. She was sure she would see him again. She was sure she would be able to convince him that what she had done, she had done out of a sense of duty to the Alliance, and she hadn't meant to hurt him. If he could understand that then maybe they still had a chance together.

Leia was very confused. She wasn't sure what that had been about. And Han needed someone that did understand.

The Princess found Chewie easily. He was the only eight foot tall, two hundred year old Wookiee at the party. He did stand out somewhat.

'Chewbacca may I speak to you?' asked the Princess.

She then told the Wookiee that Han had seen someone and it seemed to have upset him a bit. As soon as she mentioned the name 'Bria' the Wookiee was off toward the Falcon with a backward bark of thanks.

Chewie found Han drinking a pitcher of whisky sitting at the Holo chess board.

The Princess told me explained Chewie at Han's surprised expression.

Do you want to talk about it? asked the Wookiee.

'If you don't mind, pal, I'd rather not even think about it tonight.' replied Han gently.

Yet here he was, hours later, thinking about it. About her. He wasn't sure how he was meant to feel.

He was glad she wasn't dead. But when he had found out she was dead he had felt grief and some regret and also relief. Relief that she wouldn't track him down and make him face his feelings. Did that make him a bad person? He wasn't sure.

He wasn't sure of anything that night.

He rolled over and drifted into a fitful sleep.

Well? Review, but no flames!