AN:Ah, finally, chapter three! Sorry for such a delay; without further ado, I bid you - read . . .

! As before and as always. I own nothing of this except the plot.

The planet Han had selected as a refuge was some unknown backwater rock that merely had a bunch of random numbers for a name. There was so much dust in the atmosphere that it seemed to be a lifeform of its own.

"Nice place, captain," Leia quipped.

Han gave her a sideways glance while keeping most of his attention on the power-down of the ship, "Hey, I'm in it for the gratitude."

Chewbacca muttered something that seemed to be a jab at Han who feigned a great inner wound with a mournful look.

"So, now what?" Leia asked. Once the remnants of the Alliance had rendezvoused, there would be a transmission sent to her and any other remaining executives. However, in the escape following the fleet's near destruction, Lando had sacrificed the comm dish for survival. They needed some equipment before anyone was getting a transmission.

Han sat back in his chair as Chewie handled the last of the ship's post-flight procedures. "Hmm, there's a few good dealers around here. However, I'd say our best bet is seeing if old Berence Trifold is still in business," he decided.

"Trifold? Is that his real name?" Leia wondered.

"Probably not," Han answered as he got up and stretched. "Interested in joining me, milady?" he gave her as much of a bow as was possible in the cockpit and then offered her a gloved hand.

Leia smiled but just got up and walked off. "I told you about calling me things like that," she said without looking behind her, all the while shaking her finger disapprovingly for Han to see.

"Well, it's a lot better than what I could be calling you," the smuggler decreed, shaking his finger in turn at the departing princess. He sighed, realizing it had no effect then removed his flight gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. "Be back soon, Chewie, keep an eye on the Falcon. Hopefully when I return I'll have some goodies to add to her."

The wookie bellowed with delight at the notion.

ooo

Outside, Leia was waiting for Han, strapping on a blaster holster while simultaneously carrying on a conversation with C-3PO. She looked up at Han as he approached. Artoo bleeped a greeting.

"Good day, sir - "

"Oh, no," Han whined. "He's not coming with us, Berence hates droids." Artoo let out a low, somber tone. His photoreceptor looked the Corellian up and down. When there was no more response, he lifted up to let out his wheels and then ascended back into the belly of the Falcon. "You too." C-3PO seemed to let out a frustrated sigh but then complied as well. Moments later, Leia and Han were by themselves once again.

"You're sure you don't owe this guy any money, right?" Leia asked as the two began making their way out off the landing pad.

Han took a few moments before responding, "No." Leia cast him a look. "No!"

"As long as you're sure."

"I am. Hell, I think he owes me something."

"There's a break from routine."

ooo

The establishment simply titled, as Trifold's was an average pilot dive. Leia hadn't been to a lot of them over her years, but as time went by she found herself frequenting them more and more often. Trifold's was dimly lit with an assortment of aromas circulating throughout. The place was pretty simple - some chairs and tables, booths along the wall and a bar in the middle. Han lead the way up to the bartender,

"Where's Berence?"

The bartender regarded him for a moment with multi-faceted eyes. He blinked, then merely pointed to a door at the far end of the dive. Han nodded, tossed a cred chip onto the counter and then made off in the designated direction. The door was sided by two large bouncers of a species Leia couldn't place. Whatever they were, they were almost as big as Chewbacca with black scales and yellow-slitted eyes.

"I'm looking for Berence," Han stated.

"Who are you?" one of the humanoids demanded.

"Han Solo. He knows me, business stuff."

The bouncer opened the door and went inside. Moments later, he returned and nodded Leia and Han's permission to enter as well.

Inside was a stuffy office cramped with too much furniture and sitting at the main lounge chair in the middle of the room sat Berence Trifold. He stood as Han and Leia entered, a knowing grin stretched across his face.

"Han Solo, nice to see you again."

Han tipped an imaginary hat, "As always Berence."

"And what a lovely companion you've acquired," Berence regarded Leia studiously.

Han put a protective arm out in front of her. "Business, Berence? I need some things."

"Of course, what smuggler of your grade doesn't at some time or another?" the dealer mused. He stood and nodded, "What is it?"

"Nothing special, just a new dish for the Falcon - got clipped on my last run."

"I can do that." Berence then let out a somewhat muffled, "But not for you."

"What? What the hell are you talking about? You owe me," Han demanded.

"Yes I do, Han Solo. I do owe you a favor - so, I'm going to be generous and let your ladyfriend live while you pay a visit to hell."

On cue the bouncer behind Han and Leia pulled a blaster and tucked it at the back of Han's neck. The man stiffened but was outwardly jovial,

"You got to be kidding, Berence. What did I do to deserve this, huh?"

"You dropped a run that belonged to Jabba the Hutt."

Han closed his eyes in frustration. One time - will I ever live this down? "Berence, that was ages ago and Jabba is dead. There's no longer a price on my head."

"You're wrong, Solo," Berence replied. "Because, you see, not only did you drop cargo belonging to Jabba, then you went a killed him. Let me tell you, his family is not happy with that."

Han found himself rubbing his brow in frustration. "Would it make any difference, if I were to tell you she's actually the one who killed him?" He muttered, pointing at Leia who rolled her eyes.

Berence laughed. "No."

Thanks for reading. Reviews greatly appreciated! (I have no life, I live for them!) . . . ra haha . . . – k.ramsey