Free At Last

by SoloFalcon

What if Han Solo's carbonite-encased form was lost enroute to Jabba's palace?

This is my first real attempt at Star Wars fan fiction (at least since I tried writing some way back in 6th grade). As anyone in this galaxy…or in a galaxy far, far away…knows, the characters belong to Jedi Master George Lucas. The characters I created are mine insomuch as they are a figment of my slightly warped imagination.

As I've just recently discovered the "world" of fanfic that is out there on the net, and have been reading voraciously, I hope I have not inadvertently crossed any boundaries into other writers' fanfic work without permission. If I have, mea culpa and I hope I can have your belated permission, email me and I will most assuredly give you credit. I do know that I have based a Solo history on Carolyn Golledge's Falcon Clan idea for Han's background—basically because it fits so well with my own idea of what I think Han's mysterious past holds. My thanks to Carolyn for a fantastic set of stories.

The Corellian language in this story is much like the story itself...a creation that has elements of someone else's hard work. (Thank you, Carolyn Golledge, Rebecca Maynard, and anyone else who has added words to the Corellian language. I hope I got the words right.)

Some elements of "Corelli" are strictly my own creations that I hope don't clash too harshly with what is out there already. If there really is a Corellian Dictionary out there, I hope someone will be kind enough to point me in its direction…and if there's not…HMMM…maybe a bunch of us oughta create one… (Just a thought!)

This story was based on the almost-too-horrible-to-be thought premise of—what if Han Solo's carbonite-encased form was lost en-route to Jabba's palace and was not found until all of his friends were dead and gone?

This may have already been done as a story somewhere in a fanfic galaxy not so far away…but this is my version…hope it reads well. Any feedback, positive or negative, will be read and welcomed… Any vicious flames will be read--and then ceremoniously printed, shredded, and burned…

May we all walk in the Light…with the Force as our Ally.

Free At Last

By Solo Dawn

"…and, as you all know, after the New Republic was formed, Luke Skywalker resigned his battlefield commission and became the first of the new Jedi Order."

With perfect timing, her words preceding her, the museum guide entered the large room that housed the Heroes of the Rebel Alliance displays. The vaulted ceiling gave her voice an echoing, otherworldly overtone as she paused just inside the arched doorway. The young woman spread her hands, gesturing to encompass the large room.

"This is where the New Republic honors some of the most important personages of the Rebellion." Her eyes traveled over the group that had followed her, noting with satisfaction the awed expressions on most of the faces staring back at her. She smiled at the group of eight children, a school tour group, whose young faces were alight with interest. Their chaperone, an elderly Quermian, did not peer curiously about as his young charges did; instead, he kept a careful eye on the youngsters. The rest of the group included a scattering of human adults, a youth in his early teens, a pair of Rodians, and a lone Ixthian.

A pair of piercingly intense blue eyes caught the young woman's gaze as she continued her practiced spiel. "Among those honored here are none other than some of the most famous Rebel leaders, including General Carlist Reeikan, Crix Madine, General Jan Dodonna, and Mon Mothma…"

The young tour guide smiled into the impassive gaze, trying without success to elicit an answering emotion from the young woman who was staring fixedly at her. A brief flash of annoyance crossed the woman's features as her smile was ignored and she turned her gaze to a latecomer to the group who was just now drawing near.

"Most of these leaders were to play as important roles in the founding of the New Republic as they did in bringing about the defeat of …" Her practiced aplomb wavered slightly, disturbed by feminine interest as her eyes fell on the tall, dark-haired man who paused to lean nonchalantly against the wall near the entryway.

Her voice faltered mid-sentence before she quickly picked up the thread of her lecture once again. "…the Empire." A faint, knowing smile curved one side of the man's mouth upwards as he met and understood the sudden directness of her gaze.

Leading her group to the left, beginning the circuit of the large oval room, the tour guide continued speaking, letting her enthusiasm for her subject show in her voice even as she continued to eye the newcomer. "As diplomatic missions began to replace the military objectives of the Rebellion…"

Kira glanced briefly away from the tour guide, following the young woman's gaze. Her blue eyes fell on the tall man hovering near the back of the group just as he turned an inquisitive glance on the other members of the tour. Hazel eyes, glinting with amusement, met her own blue gaze and the lecture about the founding of the New Republic faded from Kira's mind for a long moment.

For once, she stared openly with her eyes instead of instinctively taking the man's measure with the Force first. He was older than her, but not by much. Mid-twenties, Kira guessed. Lean, on the edge of lanky, but muscular enough. Enough for what? She questioned her own wayward thought.

His boots, dark breeches and tan shirt were nondescript, but the spacer's vest he wore clearly stated his profession. He looked out of place in the confines of a museum. He was probably some space bum with nothing better to do with his down-time than hang around tour groups to see if he could charm his way into the guide's bed, Kira impulsively decided.

Force! Now that was catty! Kira felt a twinge of shame as she tried to dismiss the thought. Her mind had short-circuited somewhere during the lengthy tour, she decided, there was no other reason for her uncharacteristic snideness, mental though it might have been. Yeah, but you know you're right…he sure doesn't look like someone that would be interested in history just for history's sake!

Since when do you judge someone by how they look, Kira-girl? The thought was less hers than it was an echo from one of her dearest teachers and Kira cringed again before adding a defiant final retort. Well he doesn't! He looks like he belongs in some action-adventure holo…not in a museum!

Where did that thought come from? Kira wanted nothing more than to strangle whatever part of her that was suddenly careening out of control and making her thoughts run amok. She ignored the whispery sense of amused affection that seemed to echo in the back of her mind like a fond chuckle and quickly ran through some meditation exercises.

There is no emotion; there is peace… Kira took a deep breath, feeling a calm settling around her again. Though she tried to keep her face impassive and serene, some of her inner agitation must have crept into her expression, because the young man's steady stare intensified, his eyes narrowing slightly. A slow smirk, easing its way across the young man's tanned features, and an arrogant wink broke her concentration.

Shooting him a scowl, Kira pointedly turned away. What in the Nine Hells has gotten into you, you idiot? Dimly she realized that the group had moved away from her during her distraction and she hurried to catch up. She could sense the young man following a few steps behind her, his lazy stride covering twice the ground of her much shorter step.

As she stopped again at the fringes of the group, she could feel the man close the distance between them until he was standing directly behind her. Pointedly she closed her mind to him, focusing instead on the words of the guide.

"And here, we have a chronicle of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker's life. Do any of you know what Master Skywalker did for the Rebel Alliance before he began training as a Jedi?" The tour guide directed her question to the youngsters before her.

One young girl nodded hesitantly and spoke up, "My daddy said that he blowed up both the Death Stars."

The guide smiled down at her, "Master Skywalker did actually fire the shot that blew up the first Death Star at Yavin. However, he wasn't the one that destroyed the second Death Star. Do any of you know who did?"

Kira tuned out again. Under the cover of the dark blue poncho that draped her slight form, she shifted the weight of the small backpack she was wearing and mentally reviewed its contents. A flick of her eyes to the far end of the room brought a pensive cast to her delicate features before she firmed her jaw and cast a surreptitious glance around the room. She noted the positions of the security vids, memorizing them for later.

When no answer to her question was forthcoming, the guide continued, her voice breaking into Kira's melancholy thoughts. "The battle over Endor was where the second Death Star was destroyed, and it was President Calrissian who led the attack and fired the shot that destroyed the Emperor and Darth Vader."

"Huh-uh!" An indignant voice in the crowd interrupted.

The guide glanced down at the young boy who scowled up at her. "Excuse me?"

"Not Darth Vader."

"What do you mean?" The guide frowned slightly before she replaced the look with a carefully controlled smile.

The boy raised a hand to push back a tousled hank of black hair and met her gaze with determined defiance. "Master Skywalker used his powers with the Force to reach Vader. He made Vader change his mind about being bad and Vader helped him. Vader died, but it wasn't cuz the Death Star blew up." Conviction rang in the youthful voice.

Kira felt one eyebrow going up as the youngster gained her attention with his accurate description of the events. The Ixtorian chaperone made a twittering sound of chastisement that did absolutely no good as the boy continued to stare up at the tour guide with an unyielding expression.

"Well," the tour guide hedged, "that was one explanation that was given, but there's never been anything to prove it…

"It's true. I know."

The tour guide smiled indulgently down at the boy. "I'm sure you heard it somewhere and…"

The boy's eyes grew fiercely adamant. "Huh-uh. I know it. I'm gonna be a Jedi too someday. When I think about what happened, I know it's right."

Kira's interest in the boy suddenly tripled. Narrowing her eyes speculatively, she sent a questing tendril of Force power towards the youth. Her tentative exploration found a bright aura, shining vibrantly with the power of the youngster's ability. As light as her touch was, the boy felt it.

Wide-eyed he turned from the tour guide, his argument forgotten. Kira smiled at him, gifting him with a slight nod and a wink even as she silently affirmed his conviction with a whisper of contact through the Force.

Yes, bright-one, you will be a Jedi. And here is your first lesson… There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. I have work here today that must be done, and done quietly… So, for now, be calm and patient…and learn the history here. The Council will hear of you. I promise. She gave the boy another wink, delighting in the way he pulled himself to stand straighter, his aura calming despite the excitement she could feel simmering within him.

A faint flicker at the edge of her consciousness distracted her. Suspicion. Speculation. It was gone too quickly for her to pinpoint with her abilities, as if a heavy blast shield had dropped between its origin and herself. She glanced around at the group, unease slipping through her as she found herself unable to pinpoint the source of the feelings.

The young woman in charge of the tour began moving again, leading the group toward the farthest end of the room. "This exhibit is dedicated to seven of the most enduring heroes of the Rebellion."

She paused in front of a display, lit from within by several glow-rods. "Here, we have C-3PO and R2-D2." She smiled. "Well, to be accurate, we have the droid bodies. Threepio and Artoo's memory banks were, of course, loaded into newer bodies as these began malfunctioning."

Kira eyed the gleaming gold droid body with an inward smile, comparing it with the protocol droid's current choice of form. The voice of the young tour guide provided background commentary to Kira's thoughts. "As far as is known, Threepio and Artoo both are continuing to serve the Skywalker family as they have since that fateful day that they fell into Master Skywalker's hands."

The group moved slowly on, Kira trailing at the end of the line of children, the lanky spacer following even further behind her. Uncannily aware of his presence even when she was attempting to focus on the guide before her, Kira hissed inwardly at herself in annoyance at her lack of concentration.

"For a short time, C-3PO chose to serve General Calrissian after he was elected President of the New Republic. During President Calrissian's ten years in office, the New Republic prospered. The New Jedi Order was becoming firmly established due to the efforts of Master Skywalker and his sister, Princess Leia Organa. Princess Leia was a founding member of the Alliance along with her adoptive father Bail Organa. It wasn't until her relationship with Luke Skywalker was revealed that Princess Leia had any idea that she was Force-sensitive. It was much later that she decided to undertake the training that finally entered her into the ranks of the Jedi."

Behind the guide, a service panel opened in the wall and a tall protocol droid stepped into the room. The blue glint of his photoreceptors focused on the woman speaking and he began to cross the distance towards her. The muted lighting gleamed on the polished silver of his body as he stepped nearer to the group.

The guide spared the droid a quick glance but continued her speech undeterred by his appearance. "Despite her strong diplomatic and political skills, once she was fully trained, Princess Leia devoted her time and skills to missions that took her across wide expanses of the galaxy. Her diplomatic skills were sorely needed as many of the newly-freed worlds petitioned for entrance into the New Republic. It was largely due to her efforts that a majority of the systems that were once known as the Rim worlds were brought into the new government. Some of the other accomplishments of the Jedi Princess…as Leia began to be called…were…"

"I beg your pardon, Mistress Selena…" The protocol droid interrupted, "But your presence is required in the Acquisitions room."

The tour guide sighed and nodded in response. "Thank you. Will you…"

"I would be pleased to complete the tour for you."

Nodding again, the tour guide turned once more to the group. "If you will excuse me? Emtrey will conclude your tour." She smiled apologetically even as she backed away and then turned to leave.

In a modulated voice designed to hold its listeners' attention, the droid picked up the presentation. "Now, as we move further into the 'Hall of Heroes', you'll find some of our finest exhibits. Included are the X-wing that Commander Skywalker piloted during the Battle of Yavin. Master Skywalker also generously donated his first lightsabre to the museum as a token of…"

Kira listened with rising impatience to the droid's rambling list of the Alliance Museum's vaunted assets. Her blue eyes roamed across the room, carefully noting the number and placement of the many Security holo-vids. She sighed heavily and then had the grace to attempt a sheepish smile at the elderly humanoid next to her when the woman turned a chastising glower on her.

Patience, young one.

Kira sent a mental huff of exasperation toward the origin of the whispery admonishment. Muttering under her breath, careful to keep her voice from escaping a soft whisper, she replied, "Easy for you to say, Grandda!"

A gentle ripple of amusement accompanied the silent retort. My own Master would've disagreed with you, sweeting.

Kira lifted a questioning brow, her curiosity piqued. The gentle, wry humor that she'd sensed faded first into embarrassment before it was replaced by firm instruction.

Concentrate. The faint sense of presence faded away.

Obedient to her invisible instructor, Kira refocused her attention on the tour guide. The droid scanned the group before it as it continued to relay its lesson.

"As you know, tomorrow is the anniversary of the destruction of the second Imperial Death Star. Though it took many years to completely eradicate the last remnants of the Empire, it was decided that the New Republic would date its reign from that auspicious occasion. Partially this was to honor those who gave their lives in order to destroy the Emperor and his corrupt government…"

Kira quickly ran through a meditation exercise, restraining the urge to tip the officious pontificator upside down from a distance. Her eyes scanned the room once again, lingering slightly over a display that was presided over by a life-sized hologram of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.

Dressed in black, he stood at ease, his hands clasped in front of him. The sun-bleached blond of his hair fell slightly forward over his forehead, but did nothing to hide the piercing blue directness of his eyes as he appeared to stare directly out at the viewer. Though his face was solemn, there was a faint curve to his lips and a fine network of lines at the crease of his eyes that spoke of a man who was as likely to smile as to frown.

Staring up at the image, Kira tipped her head slightly in a gesture of profound respect, as if she were truly in the presence of the Master Jedi. She smiled to herself at the folly, but was unable to restrain the urge to fold her hands in front of her chest and give a short bow of deference to the life-like holo. As she straightened, she caught a glimpse of motion from the corner of her eye.

The man in the spacer's outfit had moved from behind her, making his way around the perimeter of the group. His attention appeared to remain on the droid who was still prattling away about the history of the New Republic, but the direction of his steps was leading him further from the group. The apparently aimless saunter was drawing him closer to the far end of the hall until he halted suddenly, Kira's actions having caught his eye.

A faint frown creased his brow as he glanced from Kira to the hologram in front of her. His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle as he returned his gaze to Kira's face, catching her studying him. One eyebrow rose querulously and the corners of his mouth tipped up in amusement before the man's gray-flecked green eyes raked their way down from the top of Kira's dark-haired head to the tips of her ankle-high boots.

An appreciative gleam banished the amusement in the man's eyes as he lifted them back to the young woman's face. Unabashed interest flared to life in the man's expression as he caught and held Kira's gaze.

Kira felt a searing flash of attraction streak through her with electrifying suddenness as she met the direct hazel stare. Her chin lifted a notch in an unconscious effort to stand taller than her diminutive just-over-five-foot height and she let a coolly impassive expression claim her face--an expression that, from friends' descriptions, turned her deep blue eyes into frigidly glacial daggers.

The action brought a different reaction from the dark-haired man than she had anticipated. Instead of cutting him to the bone, her glare and imperious posture brought a twinkle to the eyes that now seemed greener than before. A matching smile, lop-sided and mischievous, turned up one corner of his mouth as he widened his stance challengingly.

The smile did funny things to her insides. Kira looked away quickly, deciding that conceding defeat would be better than allowing the arrogant jerk see the betraying flush that she could feel climbing her cheeks. Casually, she lifted a hand to tuck an errant lock of her long, dark hair behind her ear even as she closed her eyes and attempted to regain her sense of balance. There is no emotion; there is peace… Firmly, she recited the words to the Jedi meditation.

There is no passion; there is serenity… Unbidden, the ghostly whisper invaded her mind, the voice feminine, the tone solemn and pedantic.

Normally the words would have been accepted, welcomed as yet another focus for her to quell the unfamiliar upsurge of interest in the lanky man who was still looking at her. Blast him! She could feel the weight of his stare.

Normally.

However, the gentle amusement that laced the voice and the silent chuckle that accompanied it were anything but welcome. Even less welcome was the quiet message that followed it.

Bantha pudu, Kira-love. The presence in her mind gave what could only be a snort of derision. That little meditation focus is fine for quelling pre-battle jitters and for calming a restless soul, but you can't actually live by it, dear. A melancholy smile laced the voice. Do you think that serenity alone could have brought your father…or you…into this world?

The other voice intruded again, its masculine overtones holding a hint of embarrassed annoyance as it responded to the first voice. What happened to your diplomatic upbringing?

Another chuckle answered it. I learned a lot from my Jedi Master. The voice continued with deliberate goading, Diplomacy is like serenity…nice in theory, but in practice…

Suns! A mental groan cut the feminine voice off. I never taught you that! It sounds more like something you learned from… The voice faded suddenly without finishing the sentence, leaving an uncomfortable feeling of regret and apology.

"Will you just leave me alone!" Kira's whispered plea was unintentionally louder than she would have wished. She tried to finish the request silently, Grandda! Please! Mingled with the embarrassment at having her inner turmoil so blatantly obvious, irritation with the two presences tightened her voice.

"Well, ex-cuuuse me, sister!" The annoyed mutter came from close to Kira's right side.

Kira raised her head, her eyes snapping open in startlement to find that the object of her earlier attention had made his way back around the group to stand next to her. Her gaze met a glower aimed at her from beneath dark, frowning brows, the green-gray glitter of the man's eyes spearing her briefly before he turned and walked away. The rigid set of his shoulders betrayed his indignation as he stalked back around the perimeter of the small group to take up his former position.

Deliberately not looking in her direction, the man folded his arms across his wide chest and focused his scowling attention on the droid in front of the small group. The small disturbance had only drawn the gazes of two or three people closest to Kira. One, the Ixthian, turned away with a shrug of his four appendages, leaving her to her embarrassment. The rest eyed her curiously, the teenaged human male sniggering openly at her discomfort. Kira stifled a groan.

Sorry, Kira-love. A low masculine chuckle drifted across the feminine voice's sincere apology.

Kira refused to respond, sending a mental sigh and a silent growl as answer to both intrusions. She felt the presences fade away again, belatedly leaving her to her wounded privacy. Sighing again, she refused to let her gaze wander back to the tan shirt on the far side of the crowd. Instead, she focused her full attention on the droid, forcing herself to listen to it ramble on.

"Here we have a display that commemorates the defeat of the first Death Star. A handful of starfighters, led by Luke Skywalker were able to penetrate the Death Star's shields and a shot, fired by Master Skywalker, was the blow that kept the Empire from destroying another world as they had destroyed Alderaan. Incidentally, Master Skywalker, though not a Jedi, claimed to have used the Force to make that fateful shot. These two holograms are the only remaining visual recordings of the ceremony after the Rebel victory at Yavin."

Kira trailed after the group as they moved further down the hall. Her eyes lingered briefly on a set of holograms as they passed a display commemorating the Battle of Yavin. Her eyes traveled over the two tri-dee's, lingering on the four people captured within.

From the depths of the holo, she watched as Luke Skywalker's blue eyes appeared to twinkle with youthful enthusiasm at the person taking the hologram. Next to him, a sardonic twist to his lips, Han Solo stood with arms crossed, hip-shot and lanky, his hazel eyes challenging the viewer as he managed to convey his disdain for the proceedings through body language.

Behind them both, a regal tilt to her head and calm determination in her eyes, Princess Leia Organa stared solemnly out at the assembled troops that Kira knew had stood behind the person talking the holo. Standing next to Han, Chewbacca's gaze held amusement as he viewed the proceedings from his partner's side.

The second holo brought a smile to her face. The descriptive placard next to it revealed that it had been taken only moments after the first holo, but the expressions on the player's faces were much different. Chewbacca had his head thrown back, mouth open in a Wookiee laugh. Luke's eyes had widened and focused on the taller man next to him in shock, his mouth having dropped open in surprise and disbelief.

The Alderaani princess was most obviously un-amused. The scowl and fierce glare directed at Solo would have wilted most humanoid males. Entirely un-wilted, Han had half turned toward Princess Leia, the sardonic tilt of his mouth having disappeared into a teasing smirk and his eyes glinting with amused and challenging mischief.

Briefly, Kira let herself wonder just what Solo had done or said to gain the unrestrained reactions from the friends surrounding him.

You don't want to know, Kira-love. The voice held wry humor and tender amusement.

You're too young to know! The masculine voice contained a measure of the shocked, embarrassed innocence that could be seen in one of the faces from the holo.

Kira gave a snort of disdain, whispering quietly in response. "I'm twenty. Just as old as you were!"

"Talking to yourself, doll?" The low-voiced question was a murmur from close to her left this time.

Kira jumped, startled. Once more her eyes flew upward to meet a gray-green stare and she felt the rising heat in her cheeks as the man cocked an inquiring eyebrow at her.

Amusement laced the man's tone, "You oughta watch that." A wry twist of his mouth made it clear that he was laughing at her. "They'll send the psych-wardens after you."

Kira stared at him, numb with embarrassment again. His faint smirk spread into a full-fledged grin as he tapped the tip of her nose with a long finger. "Twenty, huh? Too young to be senile… So, you're either a nut-case or you're one of the hocus-pocus league."

Kira's bewilderment overcame her annoyed chagrin. "The what?" She frowned up at the man, perplexed.

He gazed down at her speculatively. "Naah…" the stranger's grin grew deliberately teasing as he spoke again, apparently to himself, "I'd lay odds on the nut-case theory…"

As Kira spluttered, unable to come up with a quick retort, the man chuckled, pleased with himself, and began to turn away. As he did, he leveled one last blow, "You're too much of a child to be a Jedi…"

Kira gaped at him, and then snapped her jaw shut. Unable to repress an annoyed growl deep in her throat, Kira pulled in an indignant breath, ready to blast the obnoxious jerk with her opinion of him and his comment. A sound, unmistakably a snigger, from one of her unseen companions brought a fierce scowl to her face and she directed a mental snarl at the laughing presence.

Ignore him, Kira-love. The female voice held a wry blend of amusement, annoyance, and wistful longing, but it didn't clarify which male Kira should ignore.

Ripples of laughter continued to roll from the male presence as he directed an amused question to his companion. Would you've ever guessed the ability to infuriate a woman was an inheritable trait?

More silent laughter choked off the rest of the comment. Kira's mental ear picked up the unmistakable sound of a feminine growl of annoyance that sounded remarkably like the one she had directed at her own tormenter.

With a muttered curse, Kira firmly and deliberately snapped shut all her mental shielding. She buried her twinge of guilt over cutting off both voices and concentrated on the irritation she was feeling toward the man who was smirking at her from the safety of the tour group.

Her eyes flashing blue fire, she stalked up to the group, holding his gaze for a long moment before deliberately turning away and focusing on the droid's spiel as he led them toward the last display in the room. Her eyes flitted past the group, past the droid, and past the man who was still eyeing her speculatively. Her gaze rested on the large arched doorway that led into a cavernous room toward which they were heading.

The underbelly of a large ship was visible through the doorway, its landing pads firmly settled on the polished floor. Unlike the pristine floor, the portion of the ship that Kira could see was battered and worn, having seen its own share of action and having not seen any attempts to improve its appearance cosmetically.

"It is only on the day before and during the celebration of the fall of the Empire that the museum allows one of its most treasured items to go on display. You are indeed fortunate to have chosen today to visit because at this time tomorrow, the museum will once again place this display in safekeeping."

"Why?" The word shot like a blaster bolt toward the unsuspecting lecturer.

The droid managed to look nonplussed by the inquiry. "Why?"

"Yeah, why? Why not leave it on display year-round?" A nod toward the alcove that the droid was indicating accompanied the belligerent question. Kira's gaze left the droid to focus on the speaker. She was not surprised to find it was the tall, dark-haired spacer.

Corellian. She nodded to herself in satisfaction, placing the man's origin from the hint of an accent in his speech. No wonder he's so rude! Despite the tight weave of her mental shielding, Kira could hear the silent guffaw that her thought elicited from one of her unseen companions. Trying to ignore the sound, she waited for the droid's answer.

For a long moment, the droid paused, off-track from his programmed speech. Then, with a decisive nod that indicated that it felt it had found the correct response, it intoned informatively, "Leaving such a valuable and controversial item on display throughout the year would only encourage miscreants. In fact, there have been several attempted thefts in the past and…"

"Controversial?" One of the elderly woman glanced at her companion as she interrupted. Both turned to the droid. "What is controversial about a sculpture?"

"Sculpture?" The man who had challenged the droid spun to glower at the woman in disbelief. "Listen, lady, that ain't no sculpture…" A long finger jabbed the air, indicating the item behind its protective stasis field. "That's him. That's the real thing. Han Solo. In carbonite." The words were bitten off with angry force and the man's heated glare pinned the hapless droid.

Kira followed the man's gaze, her eyes darting past the droid and falling on the carbonite-encased figure behind it. Her gaze skimmed over the visage frozen in its unending shout of denial, the upraised hands forever lifted to protest the onslaught of cold and metal that had entombed them.

A shudder traveled the length of her spine and it was with effort that she forced herself to look directly at the features of the man beneath the metal. She could find only the faintest resemblance to the laughing face in the hologram she'd been studying earlier and a sadness gripped her, bringing unexpected tears to her eyes.

"Oh! Oh, my!" The old woman's horrified murmur drew Kira's gaze away from the display. "That can't be true. Can it?" The woman turned a distressed gaze on the droid.

A purely mechanical sound of dismay escaped the droid as it attempted to reconcile its programming to answer tourists' questions with the almost equal priority programming to evade mention of the subject.

The man who had created the dilemma stepped in again to help, a fake smile that did nothing to ease the harshness of his glare pulling his lips tight over his teeth. "Yes. Tell us. Is that or is that not Captain Han Solo…encased in the same carbonite he was put into during the Bespin Betrayal?"

"Ahhh…" The droid hesitated, giving a credible imitation of someone wanting to be very far away. An almost human sigh escaped him before he affirmed, "Yes. This is Captain Solo."

Among the tour group, the human faces showed shock and dismay. The two elderly women shared a glance of horror as the young teenager who had met Kira's gaze earlier gave voice to his disgust, "That's crazy! Why'd you wanna keep him like that?"

The droid pulled himself up to stand taller and attempted to explain. "After the bounty hunter Boba Fett left Bespin with Captain Solo, he of course brought his prize to Jabba the Hutt. Common knowledge is that Captain Solo's friends followed as soon as they were able, to attempt a rescue."

"However," the droid allowed a dramatic note to enter his voice, attempting to repeat the history in a manner that would be acceptable and would defuse the antagonistic expressions on the humanoid faces in front of him. Uneasily, he noted that even the Rodians appeared to be outraged.

"However," he repeated, "the rescue attempt was unsuccessful. Jabba had not left his prize here on Tatooine, expressing concern that the Rebellion would attempt to reclaim his prized possession. Instead, he arranged to have Captain Solo transported to the Hutt home world."

"In-route, the ship carrying this auspicious cargo…" the droid gestured toward the carbonite-encased form, "Disappeared."

"Auspicious cargo," the snarl came from the Corellian, disgust clear in his voice as he sneered at the droid's words. His eyes were fixed on the frozen form behind the mechanical being.

Kira was moved by the emotion that radiated from the man. Anger and repugnance was foremost, but underlying those emotions was intense pride and determination. Sorrow filled his eyes as he stared at the effigy of Han Solo. Then, with a stubborn jut of his chin, he tore his gaze away. His eyes clashed with hers for a moment, a stormy gray-green battlefield of mixed emotions, before he returned his glower to the droid.

"Um…yes." Uncertain as to whether he should answer the rude man's comment, the droid finally continued his explanation, "For years, the whereabouts of Captain Solo remained a mystery. Princess Leia, Master Skywalker, President Calrissian, and Chewbacca the Wookiee never gave up the search, but it wasn't until twelve years ago that a Twi'lik smuggler approached the Alliance with information that led President Calrissian to Captain Solo's location."

"After they found him, why in the name of the Suns didn't they release him?" The old woman's voice was shocked, horrified, and accusing.

The droid turned his photoreceptors to her and injected an appropriate amount of sorrowful apology into his tone. "That is the same question President Calrissian asked. In fact, for the last five years of his presidency, and for another five years after that, until his death in A.E. 47 President Calrissian was one of the staunchest and most vociferous advocates for reversing the carbon-freezing process."

Kira nodded in silent agreement, remembering something of the ten years that Calrissian had spent lobbying for Solo's release. The memories of half-heard conversations between her father and the President of the New Republic as they conferred in her father's private study surged to the front of her mind. She glanced once more at the life-sign readings on the side of the carbonite slab.

"However, as you can see here, sometime during the years that Captain Solo was missing, there was damage done to the equipment sustaining him. The opinion of numerous medical experts was that Captain Solo would have only survived for mere minutes if he had been released from the carbonite when he was found twelve years ago."

Kira spoke, her husky alto voice carrying over the funereal silence that suddenly gripped the small group of beings in front of her. "But, with the advances made recently…and with the new medications that are available… surely he stands a better chance of surviving the process now."

As she spoke, Kira's hand again moved to the backpack that rested at the small of her back. She stilled her movement, glad that the thigh-length poncho she was wearing hid the motion when a pair of glinting greenish-gray eyes focused on her with the uncanny accuracy of a targeting computer. A flicker of respect in the man's gaze unaccountably lifted her spirits.

The droid looked unhappy to be asked yet another direct question that crossed into treacherous ground within his programming. "Perhaps. There has been discussion lately of the feasibility of attempting decarbonization. But, there are also concerns about the…irreversible psychological damage caused by an extended length of hibernation."

"Better to be alive and as crazy as a T'nichtal were-cat than to be hung on a wall somewhere for people to gawk at once a year." A lethal glare accompanied the snarled words as the man wrenched his gaze away from Kira's.

Blinking, Kira turned her own glance back toward the droid who was drawing himself up stiffly in defense. "Captain Solo is not 'gawked' at, sir. He is revered and admired for his efforts to defeat the Empire. I believe he would be honored…"

"He'd be furious as hell and would probably tear you into itty-bitty pieces of scrap metal if he had the chance, tin-britches!"

"Sir!" The droid managed to sound affronted.

"Han Solo should be released." The belligerent thrust of the Corellian's jaw had returned.

A quiet female voice suddenly overpowered the droid's outraged splutter of confusion. Kira turned as well, finding the speaker to be the silent one of the pair of older women close to her.

"Son," the woman's voice was gentle, but threaded with steel, "Just how old are you?"

Scowling, the man aimed a frown at her. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to refuse to answer, but the direct, uncompromising stare the old woman directed at him urged him to respond. "Twenty-six, siress." He unconsciously granted her the Corellian title of respect for an elder.

Tipping her head in regal acceptance of his courteous gesture, the old woman continued to speak with quiet directness. "Twenty-six. Have you, in the wisdom of your venerable years, considered what it might be like to wake up suddenly and find that nothing is as it once was? That not only has the entire world as it defined your reality disappeared…but to also find that the people you left behind only yesterday are now dead. That the ones that you love are gone…totally lost to you…"

The Corellian's jaw clenched, his eyes stricken as they darted from the old woman's face to the metal-encased features of Han Solo. He swallowed hard as he listened to the old woman continue speaking.

"I've watched my loved ones die one by one, young man, grieving them as they slipped from my life. I've had a lifetime to mourn them, a lifetime to accept their loss, a lifetime to have time itself dull the pain of their leaving. But now, with a few exceptions, I am alone in the galaxy."

Old eyes turned to gaze with sympathy upon the smuggler, held suspended in the prime of life while the rest of the galaxy went about its business without him--a silent testimony to the cruel passing of time. Young eyes, one pair an emerald green flecked with gray, another a brilliant blue studied the age-worn lines on the woman's face as she gazed with empathic compassion at the frozen man behind the stasis field.

The old woman sighed sadly, her eyes glazed with memories of her own losses. "Perhaps it is best that he never awakes to find that all he has known…everything he loved and fought for…is no longer here. Years gone. His closest friend, his Honor Brother…who died protecting the Jedi Princess…honoring the request Han Solo had made of him in Cloud City…is gone." Quietly, the woman recounted the familiar history of the New Republic.

"The Princess…lost to him in the same battle that took Chewbacca's life. His young friend, Luke Skywalker…Master Skywalker…killed years later during the Taslk'dfa uprising. President Calrissian, dead now for over two years." Piercing in their sorrowful intensity, the woman's eyes returned to meet the Corellian's. "All that would be left to him is the legacy of the Jedi, the offspring of Master Skywalker's only son Anakin. And they would be naught but strangers to him."

The droid nodded emphatically, glad to have found a humanoid ally. "Indeed. That is one of the arguments that the medics have also proposed. If Captain Solo were to be brought out of the carbon freeze and were to survive the medical trauma…which is highly doubtful…the shock of finding out how long he was in hibernation might well kill him. In fact…" The droid shook his head in disbelief, "Humans can be so unpredictable and illogical…the suggestion has also been made that Captain Solo might choose to…" Emtrey's voice grew softer, "Self-destruct."

Nobody paid the droid's prattling any heed. All eyes in the small group were focused on the old woman and the man, waiting as they stared silently at each other. Kira's hand clenched beneath her poncho and she swallowed hard.

"Siress," the young man's voice was softly compelling, "you may be right, perhaps it might be best. But…he should be given the chance…the dignity… If he chooses to take the Final Jump, then it is his right." The spacer's euphemism slipped out easily, confirming Kira's suspicion of the Corellian's background.

She listened as he continued in a soft voice filled with anguish for his fellow Corellian. "But this…" He waved a hand at the display, his voice trailing off as words escaped him.

Somehow knowing what he was trying without success to convey, Kira's soft words picked up where he left off, bringing all eyes to her. "This is an abomination. Solo was a smuggler…a free-trader…a pilot… He should be freed." The Corellian's green eyes leaped to meet hers and she gave him a faint smile of shared purpose.

The old woman hesitated, her eyes traveling between the fervent gaze of the young man in front of her to the calm blue of the young woman who had just spoken. The rest of the tour group glanced uneasily between the three until the woman nodded, a slight tip of her head that came with a sigh. "Sometimes…" she smiled gently, "Sometimes wisdom comes from the mouths of the young."

"Yes. Well." The droid guide, uneasy with the unfathomable workings of the human mind, attempted to finish his programmed tour. "If you would be kind enough to follow me, we will continue the tour by entering the hanger." He stepped forward hurriedly, wanting to escape the issue hanging on the wall behind him. After a long pause, the small group trailed after him, the expressions on all faces subdued.

"In here you will find the Millennium Falcon, Captain Solo's ship. This is a Corellian type YT-1300 light stock freighter…"

Kira lingered as the group began to follow the droid into the next room. She saw the spacer dart one last glance up at his fellow Corellian before he took the final steps towards the hanger and rejoined the group. Moving to stand closer to the stasis field, Kira peered upward into the face frozen in its grimace of unuttered anguish and then dropped her gaze to the faintly flickering lights on the hibernation control panel. Tentatively, she stretched out with the Force, attempting a light mental probe.

Kira! Don't! The warning came too late even as it rushed past her mental barriers.

Pain. Darkness. Cold. Crushing pressure. Chaotic flickers of memory. Terrifying visions of not-memory. Unutterable loneliness.

Shuddering, Kira wrenched back from the contact. Horror darkened the blue of her eyes and she took a stumbling step back away from the carbonite slab. "Sith!" The strangled curse escaped her as she stumbled further away.

She slammed into a solid object behind her. "Hey! Watch it, sister!" Stricken blue eyes tipped upward as she spun around to confront the person she had collided with. Frowning, the young Corellian peered down at her curiously, "Hey…you okay?"

Shaking her head, swallowing hard to keep from retching, Kira wriggled out of the loose hold he had on her arms and darted around him. "Hey! Wait!" She heard him call out behind her as she raced away from him, retracing the path the tour group had taken on their way into the 'Hall of Heroes'. She didn't slow until she was standing in the harsh glare of Tatooine's twin suns, many blocks away from the museum's entrance.

Silence and shadows.

The dim lights within the various display cases were the only illumination in the quiet room as a silent intruder slipped through the doorway. The figure paused, its head turning slowly, scanning the entire room with a stealthy caution. After a long moment, the intruder cast aside its cautious feline motion and began to stride confidently across the floor.

Kira stepped close to the stasis field surrounding the effigy of Han Solo. Her troubled blue eyes rested once again on the frozen features before she closed them in concentration.

Reaching out as she had been taught by her Jedi Master, Kira manipulated the mechanics projecting the stasis field and, with a whine, the shimmering nimbus faded. Slowly, the repulsors at the bottom of the carbonite slab lowered their burden to the floor of the alcove.

Now nose to chest with the famous smuggler, Kira peered up one last time at the silent cry for help. Whispering quietly, she intoned, "May the Force be with us both…" Reaching out, she hesitated only briefly before pressing two of the controls on the hibernation panel.

She stepped back as a radiant glow began to emanate from within the carbonite. A high-pitched whine assaulted her ears and she narrowed her eyes against the sound as she bit her lip nervously.

The metal encasing Han Solo thinned, melting away and vaporizing as the decarbonization process continued. Slowly, the anguished grimace slackened, the face frozen for so long finally relaxing into a peaceful sleep-like repose. The fingers of the upraised hands curled slightly as the metal surrounding them released its years-long hold.

As the supporting material began fading away, Solo's entire body appeared to relax, slowly sagging into a more natural position before it started falling forward out of the rapidly disappearing carbonite block behind it. Kira stepped forward, her hands reaching up to catch the descending body.

She misjudged the smuggler captain's size in comparison to her own and staggered under his weight. "Sith!" Swiftly, she reached out with the Force to steady the slack form, lowering it slowly to the ground with her mind as she guided it gently with her hands, crouching down next to him.

Having safely deposited her burden on the polished floor, Kira stood and swiftly removed her poncho, revealing a lithe womanly body outlined by a black tunic and black leggings. A utility belt with several small pouches clipped to it encircled her trim waist. A small holdout blaster rested butt-forward on her right hip and a shiny cylindrical tube dangled from the belt on her left side. A compact backpack, well hidden under her poncho, rested near the small of her back, the straps draped over her delicate shoulders.

Shrugging off the backpack, she let it drop to the ground next to Solo. With a hasty motion, she rolled her poncho into a ball, and then crouched next to the supine form on the floor. Carefully, she raised Solo's head, stuffed the wadded poncho under it, and let it gently rest on the cloth.

Anxiously, she reached for the artery in Solo's neck, checking for a pulse. The cold flesh under her fingers was resilient, but no welcoming flutter of life could be felt. With a frown, Kira reached for one of the pouches at her belt, her fingers fumbling with the catch as she tried hurriedly to open it.

Her hand closed around the hypo-infuser and she pulled it out. Holding it up to the dim light, she verified that she had gotten the right instrument, and then paused as she noticed that her hands were shaking. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to wait a moment, gathering the reins of her tattered control to her and demanding that her body obey her silent command to calm. She flinched as a sudden harsh gasp broke her concentration.

Fumbling, nearly dropping the infuser, Kira glanced down then froze as her eyes collided with the unfocused hazel stare that was directed upwards. Han Solo shivered convulsively and his chest heaved again as he dragged in another ragged gulp of air. His eyes darted, unseeing and aimless, around the room as his mouth worked, attempting to form words.

Kira lowered her hands, her left falling on the cold, wet material that covered Solo's shoulder, the other, still holding the infuser, falling to rest in the center of his chest. Under her touch, his muscles tensed momentarily before he was wracked by yet another shuddering chill.

"Shhhh…" She tried to make her voice soothing, "Easy. Listen to me, you are safe." Kira's concern doubled as Solo attempted to take another breath, the whistling harshness of the air passing into his lungs as easily heard as it was felt beneath her hand. The medics had been right about the possibility of his lungs being damaged during decarbonization, she acknowledged with fading hope.

The sound of her voice drew his full attention. "L-lei-ah?" The word was little more than a whisper of sound that ended in a choked cough. Solo's eyes closed as he painfully drew in another breath, shallower than the last.

"No. Not Leia. Be still. I'm going to try to help…" Kira took her hands from Solo's body. She lifted the infuser once again.

"Wh-wh-" Solo's voice cut off again, his teeth clattering together. He made a convulsive motion with his hands, reaching upwards toward the voice he had heard.

"Please," Kira rested her own hand over his, giving a shiver of her own as she felt the icy dampness of his skin.

Solo closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against a wave of chills that tore through him. His hand clenched under hers, the muscles spasming painfully, obeying the scrambled signals his overloaded nervous system was sending throughout his body. A low moan rattled in his throat, a harsh sound of agony that brought an empathic grimace to the face of the young woman hovering over him.

"Where?" The word was forced between clenched teeth. Solo's voice was shaky but determined. "L-Leia…Ch-ch-ewie…wh-ere?" His eyes opened again and searched blankly around, the pupils mere pinpoints in the gold-flecked green that surrounded them.

"They're…" Kira swallowed hard, forgetting for a moment the hypo in her hand as she silently debated on what to say. Seeing the sudden terror that replaced the urgency in the shivering smuggler's face at her hesitation, she felt tears threaten.

"D-dead?"

She could see the anguish carve itself across Solo's face and made a snap decision. "Shhh…they…" She swallowed, glad that his blind stare couldn't make out the sadness in her face. "They're waiting for you."

Many of the truths we cling to depend on our own point of view. A soft whisper insinuated itself into her mind, the emotion accompanying it a curious blend of censure, gentle acknowledgement of her decision, sorrow, and a frustrated sense of helplessness.

Kira watched Solo's face ease into a relieved smile and swallowed hard, unable to answer the voice, even mentally. A harsh, choked cough from the man lying in front of her drew her attention back to the task at hand.

"Hold still a minute. I've got something here that might help." She pressed the tip of the infuser to Solo's neck. He made a move as if to pull away and she quietly spoke to reassure him. "Easy. It's just an infuser. It should make it easier for you to breathe."

Solo frowned in the direction of the voice, his expression openly dubious, and the swirling confusion in his mind bringing his sharply honed sense of suspicion to the fore. "Who…" he choked, tried to draw another breath, and panicked as his traitorous lungs refused to obey him.

"Don't try to talk. Just hold still for a minute. Relax and breathe shallow."

Stubbornly, Han continued to fight the crushing pressure in his chest, feeling the uneven staccato pounding of his heart as it fought to keep blood that still seemed half-frozen flowing through his veins. The aching, bone-deep cold that enveloped him made him shudder uncontrollably even as jagged lines of fire streaked through his body. Through the pain and confusion, he dimly heard the voice again, a lancet of light that pierced the darkness that surrounded him.

"Sith! C'mon, quit fighting. This'll help. Trust me!"

Kira gasped as Solo suddenly relaxed, the desperate thrashing of his limbs falling completely still. Wondering if his heart had finally given out, or if he'd just lapsed into unconsciousness, she nonetheless took advantage of the reprieve and triggered the infuser, emptying its contents into the carotid artery in his neck.

Tossing the empty hypo aside, she anxiously rested a hand on his chest, her eyes searching his face. The uneven pounding of the Corellian's heart eased into a more normal rhythm, thready and fast, but at least steady.

A faint curve lifted the corners of Solo's mouth as he murmured quietly. "S'pos'd t' be…" A shallow intake of air interrupted him before he continued, "My line." Kira frowned down at him in confusion as he gave a light chuckle, wondering briefly if the numbing cold of hibernation had done more neural damage than the medics had postulated.

Although it was incomprehensible to the young woman kneeling next to him, the pilot's irrepressible sense of humor brought a response from an unseen watcher. The gentle voice was soft, filled with exasperation and sorrow, love and pride. Oh, Han…

Shrugging away her confusion, Kira watched as the drug eased Solo's torment. He had relaxed somewhat, no longer having to fight for each painfully drawn breath, but now he tipped his head curiously on its makeshift pillow.

"Leia?" His voice was a thread of sound, his hazel eyes opening and searching.

"No, Captain Solo." Kira reminded him. "She's not here."

"Oh…right…" The breath was a disappointed sigh. "Thought I heard…" His eyes started to drift closed. "Must'a been…"

He drifted into a doze, one of the side effects of the drug that Kira had been warned about. She studied his face. In repose, he seemed younger than his thirty-odd years. The wet, slicked-back hair that was drying in the warmth of the room was tousled, giving him the appearance of a troublesome imp of a boy.

Corellians must all be stamped from the same mold. Kira let the thought bring a faint smile to her lips, her mind drifting to the man who had disrupted the tour group earlier that day.

She shook herself mentally. Stars! Foolish twit! The mellicaine isn't going to keep him stable for long. Get to work. She leaned over and reached for the backpack she had dropped earlier.

"What in the nine hells is going on! Who the…"

A faint yelp of surprise escaped Kira as the angry voice erupted from behind her. She whirled, her left hand darting to the butt of her blaster and leveling it at the intruder. Her movement brought an instinctive response from the man who had entered the room unnoticed.

"Hey!" With an outraged yell, he dodged sideways, behind a display in the center of the room, his own hand leaping to a blaster strapped to his thigh. With the swiftness of a thought, she was staring down the business end of the weapon while the blaster's owner peered at her from around the edge of a concealing plas-glass display.

"You!" A scowl drew the young spacer's brows down. "What're you doing here?"

Kira matched his scowl, her eyes darting past him to the hallway that led to the room. "How the hell'd you get in here?"

"Hey, doll, I asked you first…" The man, deciding that the young woman crouched on the floor was harmless, holstered his blaster and took a sauntering step forward.

"Who…who's here?" The shaky voice was followed by a groan and a cough as Han Solo attempted to sit up, their voices having disturbed his doze.

"Kest!" The Corellian curse echoed in the room. Eyes wide, the newcomer stared at the man on the floor. "Solo!"

Han's face closed in sudden wariness, his eyes making a futile effort to identify a speaker he was unable to see. His right hand automatically eased toward his thigh, reaching in vain for his non-existent blaster. The labored rasp of his breathing increased as he forced his quivering muscles to move, levering himself up with his left hand.

Kira, feeling his motion behind her and hearing the change in his breathing, shot the younger man a vicious glare before holstering her blaster and turning back to Solo. "Don't exert yourself…give the mellicaine a chance to help." She urged soothingly.

He ignored her. "Who…" A tearing cough interrupted Solo's question. Stifling it with obvious effort, Han continued to glare over Kira's shoulder, not yet ready to relax his guard.

Reading the stubborn, wary expression on the other star pilot's face, the younger man spoke quietly, "Listen to the girl, A'vech'a." As he spoke, he moved closer, his eyes never leaving Solo's face. "Mi a' ya k'narith…and it looks like she's trying to help too."

Kira glanced back up as the younger man stepped around her, moving past Solo's outstretched feet to stand across from her. With one part of her mind, she attempted to dredge up the smattering of Corellian she was familiar with, trying to decipher the words he had spoken. Narith…that was 'threat' in Low Corelli, but the prefix…isn't that a negation? So…'no threat'. Okay, but what in the hells did that other word mean? A've-something. Sounded formal. As she struggled to decipher the meaning of the unfamiliar word, she watched Solo's reaction.

Han frowned, refusing to relax, rejecting the rising agony that was streaking through him, sapping the small amount of strength that he had called on. "Blood-kin?" He frowned, the expression containing disbelief and deepening suspicion. He tensed, his eyes narrowing defensively against the painful jab of old memories. "I have no 'blood-kin', chu'alla!"

The younger man crouched, his eyes never leaving Solo's face. He gave a light chuckle, entirely unoffended by the other Corellian's words. "Technically, I'm not a bastard, Solo. Some would say I was the son of one, yes. But my own parents were life-bonded."

Solo appeared taken aback by the humor in the younger man's tone. He blinked unseeing eyes and his frown deepened as he forced his already trembling arm to thrust him into a more upright position. "So why…" His movement brought on another bout of coughing, the spasms tearing through him.

"Sith!" Kira moved swiftly as Solo doubled up under the force of the attack. She wrapped one slender arm around his back as he began to topple sideways, pulling him against her and supporting him as he fought with increasing desperation for breath.

Across from her, the younger man's eyes widened in sudden concern and he stared in surprise at the stricken Solo. "Kest! What the…"

"Don't just sit there, you flaming idiot, get my bag!" Kira's voice was sharply authoritative, concern for the man in her arms flaring into temper.

Grey-green eyes narrowed in a flash of fury but the Corellian across from her glanced quickly around and focused on Kira's discarded backpack. Muttered imprecations broke from him as he reached across Solo's legs and grabbed the bag. "Got it! Now what, sister?" His fingers were already working on the tie-downs that held the bag closed.

"Open it. There should be three hypo's in there." Kira's anxious gaze flew from the hands that were now digging into the bag to the back of Solo's neck as she supported him. Ragged breathing had replaced the paroxysm of coughing, but the smuggler was now shuddering uncontrollably in her arms, every muscle tensed and quivering.

"Han…Han…can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah…" The answer came from between clenched teeth and was followed by an agonized moan. "O-on f-fire…"

Kira swallowed hard, cursing mentally as his words confirmed the medical teams' second prediction. He was suffering through a violent attack on his nervous system, every neuron firing randomly and at the most extreme levels. She shot a desperate glance across Solo's body to the younger man. Seeing that he held the infusers and was waiting for instructions, his eyes wide and concerned, she snapped, "The blue one, set it for 42 cims. Quick."

With commendable speed, wasting no time for questions, the man adjusted the controls of the object in his hands. Kira tightened her grip on Solo, feeling the convulsive waves of pain that ripped through his body. When the infuser was proffered to her she snatched it and swiftly pressed it to Solo's neck.

"What is that?"

Kira triggered the hypo, hearing the sibilant hiss as the drug was forced into Solo's bloodstream, before she answered. "Trioxaine."

"Whaaat!" The man made an abortive move to yank the infuser from her hand. Strong fingers closed around her wrist while he snatched his blaster from his holster. He turned a chilling glare and the muzzle of his weapon on her. "Kest! Are you insane?" A pair of anxious green eyes fell on Solo before they fixed on her with murderous intent, the grip on her hand tightening painfully. "Are you trying to kill him?"

"No," Kira matched him glare for glare, "I'm trying to keep him alive, you idiot…" She tried without success to wrench her hand away from him and ignored the open bore of the blaster that never wavered from her face.

"By overdosing him with Triox?" The Corellian accent thickened in the young man's voice and his grip grew crushing. "In case you hadn't noticed, doll, you just pumped enough Triox into him to shut down the nervous system of a Bantha."

Kira gritted her teeth against the pain shooting up her arm. "Let go of me, you Corellian dim-glow." Her snarled rebuttal gained her nothing but a narrowing of the furious green eyes. Using the Force, she enhanced her own strength and none-too-gently wrenched her arm from his grip.

Sighing, she relented in the face of his obvious concern. "I know what I'm doing." She shook her hand, unable to rub the abused flesh of her wrist as she continued to support Solo with her other arm. Nodding toward the backpack still lying next to him on the floor, she quietly instructed. "There's a med-scanner in there too. Use it if you don't believe me."

Green eyes flicked downwards to the bag, then darted back up to hers. Reaching out blindly, the man reached into the bag and pulled out the scanner. He frowned when he realized that, to use the instrument, he would have to holster his blaster. Scowling, he hesitated.

Solo moaned and his body slackened as the drug began to take effect. The sound drew two pairs of eyes to him. Kira felt the intermittent shivers run through the star pilot's body, the arm she kept around his shoulders straining with his weight. Gently, she tried to lower him back to the floor, ignoring the man across from her.

With a muttered curse, the younger Corellian holstered his weapon and reached for Solo just as Kira's grip began to slip. The string of almost unintelligible Corellian had the unmistakable tone of street-cant and Kira shook her head as she recognized most of the maledictions. Kira, you really need to check into where and how you learn your languages… She shook her head at her own wry thought.

"Han? Han?" She called to the pilot as he was lowered carefully to the floor. Her eyes searched his face and she reached out with the Force. Her talents had never included any healing ability, but Kira attempted to gain at least a sense of his condition.

"C'mon…say something… Damnit!" Concern was thick in the younger Corellian's voice.

Kira's eyes darted up to the chiseled features of the young man hovering anxiously over the older pilot. She frowned thoughtfully, her gaze traveling from the younger man to the older, suddenly struck by an eerie similarity between them--Solo's face, drawn and pale with pain, and the younger Corellian's equally pale and drawn, but with anxiety and disquiet.

"Captain Solo…" she added her own soft plea to the young man's demand.

"Y-yeah…" Solo shuddered again. "S-some-body… turn… up… en-vir'ment'ls… would'ya…" Another shiver ripped through him. "S'c-cold 'n 'ere…"

A faint smile touched Kira's face at the petulantly bossy tone. "Sorry, Solo." She forced a cheerful note that hid her worry, "It's part of the hibernation sickness."

"G-gr…great!" The sarcasm was weak, but apparent, and Kira sighed with growing relief as she watched the pain on Solo's face begin to ease.

Frowning green eyes caught Kira's questioningly. She shook her head at him, before directing a question to her patient. "Han…how're you feeling?"

"D-does…the term…k'sa'al-len'tith…mean an'thin' to ya?"

Kira blinked, unable to decipher the word between the shuddery pronunciation and its foreign origin. "Uh…"

The younger man cleared his throat, a rueful grin on his face as he shook his head in admiration. "Don't think I've ever heard that term used quite that way before, Solo."

Hazel eyes opened to stare blindly past the young man's shoulder. Within the blankness of his stare, the trademark, irrepressible Solo humor made itself evident. Han gave a weak snort, one side of his mouth curving in his own rueful grin even as he shivered again. "Y-ye..yeah? Well…it's fi-fi-fittin'…"

"The pain? Is it…" Kira's anxious question was interrupted by the pilot's answer.

"Bett'r. S' bett'r." Solo's voice was growing thicker, slurred. "Tired."

Kira nodded, relief beginning to replace her anxiety. "It's a side effect of the drugs. Rest."

"Safe?" The question came out on a sigh as Solo fought the soporific effects of the Triox.

"Safe enough for now. Rest." Kira watched as Han gave a faint nod, his eyes falling shut. Reaching gently, she touched her fingers to the pulse at his throat, and then rested her hand lightly on his chest. She felt the shallow breaths as they whispered through his lungs and frowned. Suddenly, the trilling warble of a med-scanner snatched her attention from watching the rise and fall of Solo's chest.

Her eyes lifted to the man across from her. She saw him scowl down at the readings the scanner scrolled across its display, its trills and beeps announcing each finding. Quietly, knowing what he was seeing based on the briefing she had been given before her flight to Tatooine, Kira elaborated on the scanner's findings in a soft murmur, "Acute respiratory distress. Neurological damage…extent unknown. And…"

Green eyes lifted to meet hers. "Possible circulatory distress…"

Kira nodded. "Yes. They said the damage to the hibernation equipment might lead to heart failure within moments of decarbonization." She glanced down at Solo's face. "So far, his pulse is weak, but steady. I gave him Mellicaine earlier. It seems to have helped his breathing."

"The Triox?" Suspicion had faded into confusion in the young Corellian's gaze. "That much should have killed him, but…" He glanced down again at the scanner as it warbled and hummed in his hands, noting the readings with a puzzled frown before he looked back up.

"It's a neural blocker…that's why they use it as a painkiller." Kira met his eyes steadily. "An overdose causes neural paralysis…which is what we wanted right now."

"Huh?"

"The instantaneous shutdown of his nervous system in Bespin would have caused some neural damage even if Gran…Master Skywalker…had been able to rescue him days after the process. But the extended hibernation…"

"Increased the odds…" The green eyes darkened with understanding.

"Yes." Kira nodded. "Every nerve…every neuron…started firing at random as soon as he come out of hibernation.

"So a Triox overdose is basically an attempt to keep his nervous system from frying itself…" The understanding mutter was followed by a heavy sigh as the young man frowned.

"Basically…yes." Kira nodded.

The frown deepened. "So…is it gonna work?"

Kira shook her head. "I don't know." She answered honestly. "The medics were hoping…but if it doesn't, then it might at least keep him stabilized until I can get him to…" She hesitated, then continued with more caution. "Until I can get him to them."

The green eyes narrowed at her hesitation, suspicion edging into the man's expression again. "Just who the hell are you anyway?"

Kira gave him an inscrutable stare, then a faint hint of a tight smile. "A friend of Captain Solo's. Who're you?" She watched him closely as she turned the question on him in retaliation.

"Nice." The man's tone was flat as he acknowledged her evasion. He sighed, and then shook his head, relenting. "Brinden," he introduced himself brusquely. "And…" he flashed her his own tight smile, "I'm a friend of his too."

He glanced around the room. "Look, doll, shouldn't we be getting our…friend…" He emphasized the word sarcastically. "Outta here? I mean…I'll admit, security on this rock is pretty lax, but it won't be long before the natives realize that the alarms that are going off actually mean something…"

Kira flicked a glance at the security holo-vids before shaking her head in reply. "We've got until daybreak if we need it. Don't worry about security, I already took care of it. There won't be any alarms."

"You took care of it?" Brinden's voice accurately conveyed his skepticism as he angled an assessing look at her.

Kira raised both brows at his tone and simply nodded in reply.

He snorted, disbelievingly. "Right."

Kira bristled defensively. "I did. The vids are disabled. So are the security alarms around the alcove and in here."

"Disabled? How?" Frowning disbelief pinned her from a green-gray stare. Before she could answer, however, he shot another question at her. "Vids and alarms are fine, sis, but how about the droids?" Even more sarcasm was injected into the question. "Didja take care of both a' them too?"

"It doesn't matter how I took care of them, they're…" Kira's automatic response halted suddenly. "Droids? What droids?"

"Droid guards. Probot types. They got two of them makin' rounds. It took me forever to slip past them…" Brinden's stare suddenly narrowed in alarm as he took in her blank expression and he glanced down at his wrist chrono. "Kest! C'mon." He surged to his feet in a flurry of motion. "We gotta get outta here, they'll be in here soon."

"We can't move him yet." Kira's voice was firm.

"We've got to, doll. Those droids're programmed to stun an intruder…" He pinned her with a stare. "Unless the integrity of a display has been breached." With a sardonic glance, he indicated the now-empty display that had once held a carbonite block. "Then they've got standing orders to fry'em."

Consternation crossed Kira's face for a moment before she shook her head firmly. "We can't. Not until I know Solo's stable enough to move…"

The young Corellian exhaled sharply, the sound an exasperated huff of impatience. "He don't have to be able to walk, doll, I'll carry him, but we gotta get moving…now." Brinden bent to suit action to words, ready to grab Solo's lax form and heave it over his shoulder in a standard rescue-carry. As he did, he glanced behind Kira.

The dismayed widening of his eyes warned the young woman. As Brinden abandoned his attempt to pick Han up, his hand flying to the weapon strapped to his thigh, Kira spun, rising out of her kneeling position with sinuous grace.

The droid's spheroid body edged into the room, hovering in the doorway behind her. Its weaponry swiveled, swiftly targeting the three life forms that were trespassing into its assigned territory. Following its programming, it targeted the primary threat, a humanoid male who was pulling a standard blaster from a thigh holster, and loosed a barrage of energy.

Kira reached for the Force, letting it guide her hand even before her eyes fully focused on the droid. The fingers of her left hand curved around a cylindrical object hanging from her belt, her thumb finding the ignition stud even as she raised her arm defensively and stepped between Brinden and the droid.

A shimmering blade of energy sprang from the haft of her lightsabre, the red-orange of its blade darting into the path of the oncoming blaster bolts. With a series of graceful motions, Kira blocked and deflected the attack, redirecting the energy to explode against the walls and ceilings of the room. The ease of her motion bespoke the talent that had raised her to the ranks of Jedi at an unprecedented early age.

Kira directed her intense focus not at the second barrage of blaster bolts that were flying at her, instead she sent a questing tendril of thought toward the droid. With her body on autopilot, she directed her lightsabre in a flawless defense while she traced the droid's circuitry with a mental finger.

A faint smile declared her triumph as she used the Force to manipulate the manual override. With absent ease, she moved the blade of her weapon to intersect the last gleaming energy bolt even as the droid sank slowly to the ground, its weapons inert and all operational indicator lights going dark. Relaxing, Kira switched off the lightsabre and began to turn back to the other two people in the room.

"Lookout!"

Kira threw herself backward even as Brinden's shout broke the silence of the room. She felt the sizzling ozone heat of a blaster bolt skim past her chest even as her thumb moved on her lightsabre, bringing the glowing blade back to life.

A flash of light, a spitting hiss of sparks, and a muffled explosion drew her gaze to the second security droid who had taken a shot at her from the service access doorway. She watched as the droid crashed to the floor, the acrid stench of fried circuitry filling the air.

Kira blinked once before turning her surprised gaze to the man who still crouched next to Han Solo. Eyes fierce, he continued to stare at the downed droid for a long moment, the blaster in his hand unerringly directed at the dark hulk. Then, with a faint nod, Brinden holstered his weapon and drew in a deep, calming breath.

Turning his head, he fixed Kira with a questioning hazel gaze. "You okay?"

"Yes." Kira's voice was soft as she acknowledged to herself that she had slipped up. She should have sensed both droids' approach. And, she sighed to herself, if he wasn't so quick with a blaster, you'd be worrying about how to go about healing a blaster burn on yourself.

The spacer's eyes narrowed in concern as they roved over her slender form, searching for a wound, and his voice held disbelief, "You sure? That shot came damn close…"

When his gaze lingered, appreciative now instead of concerned, Kira speared him with a glance, drawling with biting asperity, "I think I'd know if I'd been hit."

The dark brows drew down in a frown at her tone before Brinden flashed her a smug grin, "Yeah, I bet you would at that." He paused for a beat, meeting her chilly gaze, and then added, "It woulda thawed that ice-princess attitude you have…"

Kira stared in surprise at the snide attack. Spluttering, she glowered at him, blue eyes spitting sparks as she struggled to find a suitably scathing retort. He watched her, a grin spreading across his face, obviously amused at the effects of his comment.

Before she could say anything, he gave a slight nod toward her lightsabre, which was still humming softly and casting a ruddy glow in the dim room. "You gonna switch that thing off, doll, or d'you plan on doing some more fancy tricks with it?"

Kira glanced numbly at the lightsabre in her hand even as he continued to speak. "Guess I was wrong about you, short-stuff." Mild surprise and a hint of what might have been reluctant admiration colored his tone as he continued to stare at her.

"What?" Kira wasn't sure if her yelp was a question or an exclamation of outrage at the annoying nickname. She settled for glaring at the man across from her as she absently switched off the lightsabre.

Brinden grinned again, enjoying the flash of temper in the young woman's gaze. "About you being one of the hocus-pocus types." When she stared at him blankly, he chuckled and snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. "Wake up, little-one…"

Kira drew herself up to her full height indignantly. As soon as she did, she groaned, his widening smirk telling her that he knew his comment had hit its mark. With as much dignity as she could muster, she answered his earlier comment, "Yes, I am a Jedi."

Brinden's smile faded as he met her steady gaze. For a long moment, he stared at her as if weighing her words and her earlier actions. Then, with surprising somberness, he nodded, accepting her statement. "Yeah. It shows. You're good with that glorified glow-rod."

Having expected another snide comment, Kira blinked at the backhanded compliment. She opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, uncertain of what to say. She settled for nodding slightly in acknowledgment. Glancing at the smoldering remnants of the second droid, she quietly asked, "How'd you know about the droids?"

"It's not the first time my family's tried to set Solo free…" Brinden's voice was grim, his glance down at Han's prone form sad.

"The other attempts the guide was talking about during the tour…?" Kira's blue eyes rested on the younger Corellian's face.

Brinden's expression remained closed as he answered flatly. "Yeah. All except the first one. Calrissian was behind that one. He came to us after that…after he found out who we were…and gave us as much information as he could to help us."

"Lando did?" The surprise in her voice brought his eyes up to meet hers.

"Yeah…" He eyed her suspiciously at her familiar use of the old gambler's name.

Kira relaxed slightly. If Lando had contacted this man and his family, then perhaps he could be trusted. "Why'd he come to you?" Inwardly, Kira winced. In spite of her attempt to ask casually, her question had come out sounding derisive. She hoped he hadn't pick up the note.

He did. His green eyes narrowed at her, his mouth pulling the corners down in a scowl, but his voice, when he spoke, carried none of the sourness that was evident in his expression, "Why me, doll?" He shrugged, one shoulder lifting even as his eyes bored into her. "Hell, why not."

He smiled nastily, the grim twist of his lips giving Kira the impression that the bitterness in his voice stemmed from an unhealed wound. "After all, I'm Corellian, right? Corellian…so a thief and a pirate, too. Who better to try to steal the Alliance's premier decoration?"

Sithspit! Kira sighed. I didn't mean it that way! She raised her head and met the young Corellian's eyes with a forthright stare. "Look. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just wanted to know why…"

Brinden didn't give her time to continue. Shaking his head, he held up a hand to cut her words off with a sigh of his own. "Look, doll…"

Kira interrupted him. "Will you please stop calling me that!" Kira's irritation with him focused on the nickname. She gave an inward groan as he grinned, her objection satisfying some perverse need of his to irritate her.

"Sure…" His grin widened and his eyes flashed in sudden amusement as he paused for a heartbeat, then continued, "Honey…"

Kira let an aggravated growl escape her and opened her mouth to blast the man across from her with a scathing retort. A groan and a low chuckle from Solo interrupted her.

"Kest…" Hazel eyes blinked slowly open. "You two sound like me 'n' Leia…" A lopsided grin that was three parts fond memory and one part pure deviltry played across his face. At his voice, two pairs of eyes lowered to his face, one set annoyed, the other holding a matching sense of twisted humor.

Kira let her irritation fade away as she knelt next to the pilot. "How do you feel?"

A dark eyebrow quirked as Solo attempted to take stock of his situation. "Better." The word held restrained caution.

Kira noticed the smile that flashed across Brinden's face at the other Corellian's announcement but she angled a discerning gaze down at Solo's stoically contained expression. "Better? Exactly how much better?" She rested a hand on Han's shoulder, frowning as she felt the faint muscular tremors that were still running through his lean frame.

Solo's lips twitched in rueful acknowledgment of her perceptiveness. Again, humor colored his tone, almost concealing the weariness and pain he was still feeling. "Well…" he hedged, "A little bit less like a Rancor's chew-toy…"

"But?" Kira's eyes again sought Brinden's as the younger man crouched across from her. Worry brightened both pairs of eyes as the object of their concern hesitated for a long moment.

"But I don't think I'll be up to doing a Kessel Run in the next few minutes." A wry twist of his lips accompanied Han's confession.

Kira couldn't help but smile, hope beginning to edge out the worry in her eyes. Across from her, Brinden chuckled. The sound brought Han's attention to the other person in the room. Frowning, the pilot's brow furrowed in thought as he stared blankly past Brinden's left shoulder.

"So…who are you?" Solo's eyes turned from the young man to fix with greater accuracy on Kira.

"My name," Kira narrowed meaningful blue eyes on the object of her earlier annoyance, "Is Kira."

Solo frowned, obviously trying to place the name. He shook his head faintly. "I don't remem…" A shudder ran through his body, cutting off his words.

"Captain Solo…"

"Han…"

Brinden and Kira's voices overlapped in their sudden concern. Solo flexed his hands and closed his eyes as he gave a faint chuckle that ended in a soft sigh.

"'m okay. Jus' cold." He shivered again and Kira felt the tremor as it ran through him.

Brinden scowled. It was warm in the room. The environmental controls, set to keep an unoccupied building at a steady temperature for the night, could not quite compete with the residual heat left over from the average Tatooine day. He rested a hand on Solo's shoulder, noting that the warmth of the room had already dried the moisture from the man's clothing.

He lifted his eyes to meet a Kira's worried gaze. She had copied his motion, and concern filled her expression as she stared back at him. Silently, he mouthed a question, "Why's he cold?"

Before she could answer, Han spoke again, "I don't know either of you…" He made a move as if to sit up and Brinden kept a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him. Scowling blindly up at the obstruction, Han continued, "So why're you here? Where's Luke…or Chewie…"

Watching Kira, Brinden offered, "She says she's a Jedi." Brinden shot Kira a wink. "So I bet she decided to make you of some sort of a quest object or somethin'."

Han quit trying to resist the pressure of Brinden's hand. He relaxed, his chuckle escaping on a breathy sigh. "Jedi, huh? I got a friend you probably'll wanna meet…"

Kira sighed audibly, earning her a grin from Brinden and an upward curve to Solo's mouth that bespoke the older pilot's amusement.

"Yeah, she took out one of the security droids with one of her magic tricks." Brinden shrugged.

"Security droids?" Han's eyes narrowed, discarding the other information and focusing instead on the possible threat.

"Yep." Brinden deliberately kept his tone light. "Did some fancy footwork with a lightsabre and the next thing you know it's down for the count."

Han was frowning. "You said, 'droids'. She took care of both?"

"Nah…" Now a grin colored Brinden's tone, "She owes me…I fried the one that took a potshot at her."

At that revelation, Han sniffed the air, belatedly picking up the telltale odors in the room. Ozone from the blaster fire and the unmistakable stench of burned electronics. He frowned, suddenly realizing that he hadn't picked up the olfactory information immediately—a first for a person to whom it could have meant life or death.

Uncomfortable with the realization, he ignored the flare of pain his motion caused and attempted again to sit up. He shoved against the floor with both hands and, this time, his determination overcame the younger man's attempt to keep him lying flat on his back.

"We'd better…" Han gasped in renewed torment as the muscles in his arms spasmed. "Get outta here." His words emerged through gritted teeth. "Ship?" His exertion caused a flare of agony to explode through him, but he ignored the warning and stubbornly continued to rise.

Brinden shot a harried glance across to Kira, and then offered his help, throwing one of Solo's arms over his shoulder and aiding him in his attempt to stand. "I got a ship," he grunted slightly as he took most of Han's weight across his shoulders, "Berthed in Mos Eisley."

Han frowned and hesitated. "Mos…" A scowl began to form. "We're on Tatooine?"

Kira matched Han's scowl as she rapidly shoved all the infusers into her backpack. She sealed it with nimble fingers and reached for the poncho that she had used to cushion Han's head earlier. Rising to her feet, she ducked under Han's right arm, lending her own short height to give whatever aid she could as the tall pilot tried to force trembling legs to support him.

"Yeah," Brinden's voice was distracted as he started to turn the pilot toward the exit.

Han stumbled and cursed lightly, his frustration with his own weakness plain. His jaw gained a pugnacious thrust as he took a determined step forward. "'n that case," he sucked in a breath and coughed slightly, "We'd better get a move…" He bit back a groan as a lance of fire shot through him.

"You need to rest, damnit…" Kira's voice held irritation with the older pilot and a liberal dose of worry as she listened to the increasingly labored breathing next to her left ear.

"Rest later." Han's words were strained as he took a few more steps, still leaning heavily on the young man supporting him on his left. "Get outta…here b'fore Jab…" His right leg spasmed and he lurched, trying to regain his balance.

He felt the young woman next to him stumble before an unseen strength buoyed him up. Han frowned in confusion before a new cramp, this time spasming through his chest and left arm, took his mind off of the unusual sensation.

Pausing, he finished his thought aloud as he waited for the pain to ease. "If Jabba finds out I'm here, we'll…" He gritted his teeth as the pain intensified. "We'll be in real t-trouble."

A low voice on his left quietly informed him, "Jabba's dead."

Han glanced over, cursing the blindness that kept him from reading the younger man's sincerity. "He…" He gasped, and then continued speaking in spite of the escalating pressure in his chest, "He is?"

"Yeah." The grim satisfaction in Brinden's voice as he uttered the one word affirmation convinced Han.

"G-g-…" Han could hear his own voice fading as he tried to answer, weak and stuttering over the syllable. "Good." Finally, he managed to spit out the word, feeling his knees buckle as a white wash of agony rolled through him. A crushing pain tightened its grip around his chest and he felt the world around him tip and sway.

"Han!" The voice of the young man next to him came from a great distance and Han was dimly aware of strong arms that supported him from both sides as he collapsed.

Dropping her pack and the poncho, Kira darted in front of Han's wilting form. Using the Force, she helped cushion him as Brinden struggled to lower him gently to the ground. Her eyes locked on the bloodlessly pale face of the pilot and she groaned, "Sithspit!"

Kira reinforced her first curse with a string of imprecations in Alderaani and Tatooin. The litany gained her a surprised look from Brinden as he looked up from Solo's pain-twisted features. She wadded the poncho and thrust it under Han's head again, glancing frantically around for the pack she had dropped.

Finding it with her eyes, she nodded to indicate it where it rested slightly behind the younger Corellian. "My pack…quick!" Kira rested a hand on Han's chest, feeling the labored, staccato rhythm of his heart with alarm. Across from her, Brinden spied the black bag and locked onto it with his own hand. He slung the bag across Han's shuddering form into Kira's hands and waited impatiently while she dug within it.

He didn't question her as she pulled out an infuser, instead he watched her dial the dosage with concerned eyes. He rested his own hand on Solo's shoulder, his fingers pressing into the muscles of older pilot's arm, trying to make the pressure reassuring instead of panicked.

"Hold his head." Kira's quiet voice intruded into Brinden's thoughts and he moved swiftly to obey the order. Reaching out, he turned Solo's face toward him, stopping the restless shifting of the pilot's head on Kira's wadded poncho. The motion bared the column of Han's neck and Kira moved quickly, pressing the tip of the infuser to it and triggering it with smooth efficiency.

Kira held her breath after the hiss of the infuser filled the silence. She dropped the spent instrument and pressed fingers to the artery in Han's throat. Quietly, not taking her eyes from Solo's pain-filled face, she answered the unspoken question in the green eyes she could feel fixed on her. "Celibria."

Brinden nodded, recognizing the name of the commonly used heart stimulant developed by the Mon Calamari. He watched the young woman as she glanced worriedly at the chrono strapped to her right wrist. The niggling suspicion of her that had never quite left his mind died without a whimper as he watched the obvious caring concern on her face.

He turned his attention back to Solo, trying to ignore the rising sense of awareness and admiration for the blue-eyed imp kneeling next to the pilot. Softly, he spoke words of encouragement in Corellian, hoping that Solo could hear his voice.

Kira's fingers remained steady on Solo's neck, feeling his thready pulse jump and stutter under her hand. She was vaguely aware of a low, breathy voice across from her as the young Corellian kept up a steady stream of words in his native language. She didn't know the meanings of any of them, but from the tone of Brinden's voice, she could tell he was alternating between pleas and curses as they both watched for a response to the medication.

Kira felt a slight change beneath her questioning fingers, a faint increase in the strength of the blood pulsing through the pilot's pain-wracked body. Her lips parted in a soundless intake of air and she fixed her blue eyes on Solo's face. She carefully reached for him, trying through the Force to lend him strength.

Brinden glanced up from his own worried scrutiny, the slight gasp from Kira bringing his eyes up to her. He watched in confusion as the young woman's eyes glazed over, becoming unfocused.

Kira whimpered as she felt the same crushing inability to draw breath that Solo was fighting, the chill that was inexorably eating at him from within, and the tremors of pain that were renewing their attack on his nervous system. Cursing her lack of ability in Force-healing, she fumbled, trying without much success to gain a strong grasp on the fading Force-sense that was Han Solo.

Brinden glanced quickly between Solo's motionless form to the young Jedi kneeling over him. Realizing what she was trying, and hoping despite his own skepticism that she might succeed, Brinden was forced to wait quietly. As he watched, the blood drained from Kira's face and the young woman whimpered softly.

Nervously, the young Corellian darted another glance at Solo and was surprised to see a faint hint of color returning to chase away the gray pallor of his skin. Softly, he murmured encouragement, his words in Corelli aimed at the man lying in front of him and a soft interjection in Basic directed toward the dark-haired, blue-eyed sprite kneeling next to him. "That's it, doll, you're doin' good…keep it up."

Kira heard the words but was unable to respond without breaking her tenuous hold on Solo. She could sense that her efforts had shored up Han's rapidly eroding strength, but she was unsure if it would be enough. Feeling the renewed regularity of Han's pulse, she felt a surge of accomplishment that was tempered by the knowledge that it was still weaker than it should have been.

Knowing that to attempt to strengthen his straining heart was beyond her skill, Kira turned her attention to the pilot's respiratory distress, hoping that she would be able to help. Reaching with the Force, she made the attempt—and found herself dragged into a swirling maelstrom of confusion, unable to locate and unravel the twisted neural impulses that were sending scrambled instructions to the pilot's lungs.

Feeling the crushing weight of asphyxiation settle on her, Kira gasped, desperate to draw air into her own lungs. With a cry, she wrenched away from the Force-contact, pulling back and feeling the welcoming relief of being inside her own body once again. Blinking against the dim light of the room, she swallowed hard and gave herself a mental shake. Her eyes dropped to Solo's face, dreading what she might see.

His face had more color, she noticed with relief, but his breathing was just as strained as it had been before she had made her attempt to help. Okay, Kira Skywalker, if you can't get it right with the Force, you've still got the medics' concoctions. So, use 'em. Her own biting thought rang in her head as she grabbed her backpack again.

Han fought frantically for breath, feeling the harsh tearing of air as he stubbornly continued to drag it into lungs that were on fire. The increasing chill that came from within started waves of muscle-wrenching shivers that stabbed through him. Distantly, he was aware of the two people in the room with him, the sounds of their voices managing to dimly pierce the haze of pain that was creeping through him.

"Damnit, do something!" Brinden's voice was harsh with concern, his eyes a muddied swirl of green-gray as he watched Kira dig into her backpack and pull out two more infusers.

A shrill mechanical squeal briefly focused Han's attention. Vaguely, he identified it from long experience—a med-scanner, screaming a warning. Sparks of pain shot through his legs and up into his stomach, wrenching his attention back to the battlefield that his body had become. The reality around him began to fade as the rapidly encroaching tide of pain brought unpleasant memories to the fore.

Ignoring Brinden's worry-sharpened order, Kira carefully checked the contents of the hypos. She noted with a sinking feeling that one held less than 10 cims of Tri-ox. The other, she found, had over 40 cims of Mellicaine left in it. With a murmur of relief, she swiftly set the dosage.

Han could feel his fingers twitch under a new onslaught of fire-streaked agony. Memories of his unwilling time spent in the depths of Cloud City assaulted him, and Han flailed the air with his hands. A dark visage hovered in front of his staring eyes, the fire traveling through his body bringing Vader's image to torment him. He tried to spit a curse at the impassively staring figure, but couldn't find enough breath to fill his lungs.

Brinden jerked back out of reach as the pilot aimed a surprisingly accurate fist at his face. "Kest!" He reached out, capturing Solo's wrists in an attempt to keep him from landing a blow.

Han's head twisted on the wadded poncho, his hazel eyes glaring defiantly at something only he could see as he tried to wrest his arms from the younger man's grip. He felt a hand against his jaw, shoving his head to the side, and tried to jerk away from the touch. A quiet voice, threaded with steel, commanded, "Quit fighting, Solo."

A blistering response formed itself behind Han's clenched teeth, but he was unable to utter it. Then, a hissing blast of cold against his throat caused him to flinch. Dimly, he heard a clatter next to his ear, and the hand that was restraining him disappeared. He turned to glower at the person, but was unable to pierce the blackness of the room. He mouthed the string of curses, directing them at his tormenter in a breathy whisper.

"That's the last of the Mellicaine." Kira swallowed hard as she tore her gaze from Han's venomous stare to meet Brinden's questioning eyes.

"Will it be enough?"

Kira shrugged. "We'll know in a minute." Her eyes were shadowed as she held Brinden's gaze. "I hope so."

"That don't sound too promisin', short stuff." Brinden cocked his head, his voice grim as he stared at her. "You tried usin' the Force earlier, din't you?"

Kira nodded.

"So?"

"I'm not a Force-healer." Her tone was one of self-reproach. "I really don't even have enough skill at it to do myself any good if I were injured…" She shook her head, dropping her gaze to where Han was now resting, his eyes closed.

Brinden was silent for a long moment. Then, realizing that Han had relaxed and was no longer fighting him, he dropped his gaze to the other pilot. Solo's chest rose and fell with greater ease, the medication having taken effect.

Brinden tipped his head to indicate the medical scanner. "What's that say?"

Kira picked up the scanner and commanded it to take a reading. Bleeps and trills interspersed with whistling descants emitted from the machine as it took note of the Corellian pilot's health. Kira hesitated, not wanting to read the displayed characters aloud. She swallowed hard and began to offer the equipment to the young man across from her, but her motion was interrupted.

"Tha' bad, huh?" The low voice broke between them and Brinden dropped his eyes to find Solo staring up at the ceiling, his pale features stoic. As he watched, a twist of pain ran through him and Han clenched his teeth against the assault.

Glancing down at the speaker, Kira firmed her jaw, her eyes gaining a steely glint of determination. "Just hold on and we'll get you to a med-center." She tried to reassure him—and herself. "I've got friends waiting that can help…"

"H-hey," Han's pained grimace remained, but his tone held a faint hint of amusement as he interrupted the young woman next to him. "W-word of ad-vice, K-kira…" A painful attempt to draw in a deep breath interrupted him, but he continued before Kira could urge him to stop speaking, "Don' try to con a Corellian…"

Kira frowned as his words disappeared into a wracking cough. Across from her, Brinden closed his eyes against the sight of Solo's struggles. "Han…please…let her help…" Brinden's plea gained him a semi-accurate stare from the pilot, and the older man's hazel eyes held a resignation that hadn't been in them only minutes before.

"B-been hooked up… t' enough of th-those damn th-things t' know…" A wracking chill ran through him, and Han paused, shuddering. When he continued, his voice was weaker, his words coming with effort. "Wh-at e-each… whistle and b-beep… m-means, k-kid…"

He shook his head slightly and sweat began to bead on his brow as he fought to get the words past the chattering of his teeth. "An' tha' soun' 's not g-good." The warning warble of the scanner emphasized his slurring words.

As the noise filled the room, Han doubled up under a seizure of muscles. Nerves on fire from within, he shook, moaning. Brinden shot Kira a pleading glance as he supported Solo's shuddering form.

Frantically, Kira set the infuser to deliver the last of the remaining Tri-ox. With Brinden's help, she managed to get the tip of the infuser against Solo's neck and triggered the dosage. The last of the medication disappeared and they watched anxiously for it to take effect.

Han's tightly clenched muscles spasmed again, the tidal wave of pain starting from the tips of his fingers and toes and shooting like barbed lightening through his arms and legs to coil like a viper in his gut. He fought the urge to retch, stars going nova behind his eyes, and he heard the agonized groan that escaped him despite his attempt to keep it contained.

At the sound, Kira checked the med-scanner, her eyes skimming across the readout as the machine bleeped and whirred. The eyes she raised to Brinden were luminous with unshed tears.

"It's not helping. His body's burning it up before it can do any good…" Her voice broke and the silence that followed was filled with a heartfelt string of curses in a myriad of languages from the young man across from her.

"W-wat-ch yer m-mouth, k-kid…" The weak admonishment came from the prone form between them.

Brinden swallowed the last of the maledictions, his eyes locking on the hazel gaze that stared blindly up at the ceiling. He watched as Solo clenched his jaw around another moan, the shudders ripping through him as he fought the ravaging pain.

"Yessir." Instinctively, Brinden answered. He swallowed hard as, even wracked by nerve-induced agony, Han managed a chuckle at his response.

"Tha' 's bet-ter." Han's lips curved slightly before his face whitened with another wave of pain and he gasped.

The harsh rattle of air into the pilot's lungs was loud in the quiet room and Kira glanced down again even as the scanner emitted another warning warble. Her fingers clenched around the machine and she restrained the urge to hurl it from her in anger. Closing her eyes against the message contained in the readout, she tipped her head, letting her hair shield her from the intense green gaze she knew was fixed inquiringly on her.

"Kira?" Urgency was strong in Brinden's voice, but she refused to lift her head, unwilling to let him see the tears filling her eyes. A voice from a different direction broke through the despair that was threatening.

"H-hey? K-kir-a?" The breathy rasp was a pain-filled plea that she couldn't refuse to answer.

She swallowed hard, blinked twice, and then raised her head. "Yes?"

"D'me f-favor?" Han's voice was faint, but his hazel eyes were unerringly focused on her face despite his blindness.

"Whatever you ask…" Kira didn't bother to try to keep the choked tears from her voice this time as she met the steady stare of her grandfather's best friend.

"T-tell…L-l-…" Han's teeth clenched as a wave of pain jolted through him again, then he doggedly continued to speak. "Wh-en you… see Leia… Tell 'er…'m s-sor-ry… L-love…"

Kira ignored the surprised look Brinden shot her across the pilot's prone form. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on Han. Solo forced his failing lungs to obey him, dragging in a deep breath, the pain of the motion showing in his eyes before he closed them tightly. Determined to deliver his message, Han's voice gained strength as he uttered the words. "Tell Leia…I love her…"

I know, nerf-herder…I know.

Brinden's eyes widened and he shot a wild glance around the room. Kira ignored him as she watched Han open his eyes and search the room. A smile, one that was untouched by pain, curved his lips.

"Leia…" The word was a faint sigh of sound as it issued from the smuggler's mouth. His eyes suddenly moved, focusing on the far corner of the room with a precision that suggested his vision had returned. He drew in another shallow breath, the smile on his face widening in welcome. "H-hey, Junior!"

Kira turned her gaze to follow his. The tears that had threatened spilled over as she met a pair of blue eyes that gazed at her with somber pride. Dressed in a light colored tunic and tan leggings, the man who had guided her through her Jedi training for as long as she could remember appeared much younger than Kira had ever seen him and she frowned in confusion.

"'bout…time…you got h-here, kid…"

With sudden understanding, Kira realized that she was seeing Luke Skywalker through the eyes of Solo's memory. She glanced across at Brinden and was surprised to see him staring in the same direction as Solo, taut disbelief in his face. Kira realized that the young spacer was undoubtedly able to see Skywalker as well.

The semi-transparent form took a step closer, Solo's teasing words easing the sorrow from Skywalker's face. With a faint smile, he responded in kind. You're the one who's late, Han.

Solo's lips quirked and his eyes glinted with amusement. "'S not my f-fault…"

Instead of chuckling at the Solo-standard response, Luke winced as years-old guilt and sadness assailed him. I know, Han. Skywalker's brilliant blue gaze left Han for a moment, rising to meet Kira's.

"Grandda…" Kira heard the word slip from her and knew she was gazing up at the Master Jedi with pleading hope in her eyes. "Can you…"

Solo frowned slightly at the words, tipping his head to glance up at Kira. He struggled to draw breath, to speak to the young woman. "H-ey, K-k…" He coughed again, pain twisting his mouth. The deep sorrow on Luke's face answered Kira's unspoken plea even before the Jedi shook his head in silent negation. He turned his eyes back to Han as his soft voice echoed in the quiet. There's someone here who's been waiting for you, Han… Luke's words distracted the smuggler, pulling his attention back to him.

Focusing on a spot to the left of Luke's shimmering form, Solo's eyes brightened, the green-gold of his gaze softening, the lines of pain in his face disappearing beneath a wave of transparent joy. He gave a faint gasp, pulling in a short breath. Tenderness, delight, and a desperate longing filled his voice as a single word escaped him on a sigh.

"Leia."

Next to Kira, the medical scanner gave yet another warning trill, announcing what both Kira and Brinden could already surmise—the smuggler's overtaxed system was finally shutting down. The tightly clenched muscles eased as he relaxed. Peaceful repose replaced the stubborn thrust of his chin as his gaze remained fixed on the spot next to the Jedi Master's apparition.

Feeling the thready pulse under her hand grow fainter, Kira gazed sadly across the prone form to meet Brinden's equally distressed eyes. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the whispery rasp of Solo's breathing as it grew slower and more shallow, the pause between each breath growing longer.

Kira's tautly drawn features held sorrow and commiseration as the young Corellian across from her swallowed hard and turned his gaze back down onto the man he claimed as blood-kin. At another faint rise of Solo's chest under her hand, its shuddering irregularity suggesting that the following exhalation might be the last one, Kira bit her lip, feeling useless. She jumped as the man across from her moved suddenly, leaning forward to grasp Han's shoulders.

Brinden gave the older man's shoulders a gentle shake. "Solo!" He shot a quick glance at Kira, the gray tint in his eyes overpowering the green, before he turned to stare fixedly into Solo's peaceful face. "Solo!" His voice was gravelly, choked with emotion as he called out once more, using the name that Han had chosen for himself many years ago.

As a young man, bereft of Clan and kin, Han Solo had been as alone as his choice of name. Solo--until one fateful day when a Wookiee slave had befriended him. Solo--until another day in a dark Tatooine cantina when a decision to carry a young man, an old Jedi and two droids to Alderaan thrust him headlong into his own destiny. Solo—until he had accepted into his life the people who would become both friends and family to him.

A faint flicker of Han's eyelids and another shallow, in-drawn breath was the smuggler's only answer, but it was enough. Knowing his words would be heard, the younger Corellian leaned closer, speaking urgently, "Han Solo…know this…" He hesitated then firmly declared, "The Falcon Clan is not gone." Filled with pride and choked with emotion, his voice was rough. "D'you hear me?. Not gone. K'va'ar." He lapsed into Corelli as he repeated the announcement.

A faint frown marred the peaceful repose on Han's face and his eyelids flickered again. His lips moved, but he was unable to form words, his disbelief obvious but his question going unvoiced. Another torturous intake of breath raised the broad chest under Brinden's hands, this time shorter and shallower than the last.

Clearing his throat, Brinden continued quickly, wanting to assure his fellow Corellian. The words he spoke gained the quality of a formal vow. "The Falcon Clan is small, but growing. It will go on. Your bloodline continues on Corellia."

It was a feeble motion, but the faint twitch of Han's head conveyed his continuing disbelief and confusion. Brinden's jaw firmed and his left hand fell to Han's chest, resting firmly above the pilot's heart as he leaned closer. His voice ragged, he swore, "Yes, Han. The bloodline continues. I am Brinden Solo, kai'Kitaren Solo…te'kai'Bria Tharen…te'kai'Han Solo. Mi a' ya a'vech'a."

Kira's eyes widened as she managed to piece together the rapidly spoken High Corelli words. Son of Kitaren Solo. Grandson of Bria Tharen. Grandson of Han Solo. You and I are Blood-kin.

Brinden and Kira both felt Solo's chest rise again on a sudden, deeper intake of breath, the closest thing to a gasp his failing lungs could manage. His eyes opened, seeking the truth in the other man's face.

Even though the hazel eyes, still blinded by hibernation sickness, could not have possibly seen the evidence stamped on the younger Corellian's features, a faint smile tipped the corners of Solo's mouth. An expression much like wonder crossed Han's face and his lips moved, soundlessly forming a word, "A'vech'a."

The faintest nod accompanied his attempt as he accepted the young man's declaration. His eyes sought the apparently empty space next to the silent apparition of Luke Skywalker once again. His faint smile widened a bit, gaining a lopsided, almost sheepish tilt, and he blinked once before his eyes drifted shut.

Kira and Brinden felt the chest under their hands rise once more in a motion that would have been missed by someone watching for it. The faintest of sighs could be heard with the passing of one final exhalation. For a moment longer, the smuggler's heartbeat continued to create a thready pulse. Then, with a jarring finality, the medical scanner screamed an outraged alarm.

After a long moment, Kira reached out blindly and switched the unit off, silencing it. Deep sorrow rushed through her and she stared blindly down at her right hand where it rested next to the young man's hand on Solo's still chest. She watched Brinden's long fingers clench in the material, and glanced up in time to catch an expression of misery and angry grief that flashed across his face before a stoic mask erased it.

Realizing belatedly that he had possibly lost more than she, she spoke softly. "I'm sorry." She touched the back of his hand lightly, bringing his gaze up to hers, letting him see her own anguish as her blue eyes met his own. "I wish I could have…" Her voice trembled and she quit speaking.

Brinden nodded, not trusting his own voice, and turned his eyes back down to the peaceful, but too-still face. As he did, a quiet voice broke the silence between them.

There's nothing more you could have done for him, Kira. Luke Skywalker gave her a faint nod of approval when she looked up. You set him free. Thank you.

"He's free at last," Brinden did not look up, did not give any appearance of hearing the Jedi Master, but his quietly spoken words, echoing Skywalker's, caused Kira to glance at him in sudden suspicion. "I woulda liked to have…" He swallowed hard and shook his head. When he spoke next, his voice had firmed and he raised his head to level a direct green stare on her. "He's free. That's all that matters. You did everything anyone could've done."

Kira shot a quick look at the slowly dimming form of Luke Skywalker, her eyes questioning. She caught him staring at the young Corellian, his blue eyes filled with mild surprise and indulgent humor, an enigmatic smile curving his lips. His gaze met hers again briefly as his image began to fade out, one eyelid dropping in a quick wink.

May the Force be with you both.

Grandda…

I've got to go, Kira. Eyes alight, the almost invisible figure suddenly gave a boyish smile of eager anticipation. I need to welcome an old friend home.

Kira's glance fell to Solo's still form, lying in peaceful repose. Addressing both the famous smuggler and his Jedi friend, she softly intoned. "May the Force be with you."

Brinden followed her gaze and swallowed hard, unable to speak.

Walk in the Light, Kira…Brinden. Skywalker's voice was a soft, fading whisper.

Thank you, Kira-love. Princess Leia's voice was as warm as an embrace. Thank you for bringing him back to us.

"You realize the whole city is gonna be breathing down our necks when this baby takes off…" Brinden's words were a warning, but the tone of his voice was triumphant as his fingers flew over the controls in the Falcon's cockpit. Under his command, instrument lights flickered and a low, subsonic vibration began to throb through the ship as the powerful engines came to life. Feeling the change, Brinden allowed himself a smile of satisfaction before he turned to the navigator's console.

Admiring the swift surety of the young Corellian pilot's work as she watched him program a complicated series of maneuvers into the old freighter's navigational computer, Kira nodded shortly, acknowledging his words. "Yes." Her serene stare met the green eyes that suddenly peered at her from under a tousled hank of dark hair.

Brinden grinned at her, a wolfish baring of teeth that challenged all comers. "So…" He glanced down, carefully double-checking the results of his navigational input. "You got a ride offa this rock?" His tone was carefully nonchalant.

The corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards. "No." Her plans had included stealing the Falcon as well as the ship's owner. A flight home hadn't been one of her worries.

"You are planning on clearing outta here…" He narrowed his eyes at her. "Aren't you?"

Kira lifted one shoulder in a mild shrug. "If the opportunity presents itself…"

Brinden scowled fiercely at her blasé response. "Look, doll…" He delighted in the flash of annoyance that drove the serenity from her face. "Get this straight… We just liberated one of the Republic's prized possessions…and we're about to do it again. You'd better have a plan to get your skinny butt offa this sandpit."

Kira again lifted a shoulder, trying not to let her annoyance at his comment show. "I'll find a way."

"Yeah. Right. Like your Jedi hocus-pocus is gonna conjure you up a ship…" The snide mutter was followed by what sounded like a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, okay… I've got a ship stashed. You come with me and I'll take you as far as Coruscant. After that, you're on your own."

Kira gave an annoyed huff. "Thanks anyway but…"

A sharp bleat of sound from the navi-puter interrupted her. Glancing away from her to check the readout, Brinden gave a satisfied nod. "Okay, short stuff, the auto-pilot's set. Time for us to leave."

Brinden didn't wait for her to continue the irritated retort she had begun. Instead, grabbing her hand, he dragged her from the cockpit. Making his way through the ship's corridor on his way to the landing ramp, he tugged her with him, ignoring her attempt to pull away from his grip. "Hurry up! You really don't wanna be on this bird when she takes off."

Kira contented herself with trying to glare a hole between his shoulder blades as Brinden unceremoniously dragged her after him. Stumbling in his wake, she gave an undignified squeak as he stopped with an abruptness that caught her off guard and she slammed into the wide expanse of his back.

Scowling, she took a step backward and leveled a glare at him, ready with a scathing comment. The expression on his face stopped her words before she could voice them. Sadness and regret pulled his features taut as he stared into the dimness of the Falcon's main hold.

She followed his gaze to the entrance of the nearest crew's cabin and then glanced up at him. Biting her lower lip, she offered silent comfort, gently squeezing the hand that still held hers. As his eyes lingered on the closed door that hid its silent occupant, Brinden was finally able to speak his own farewell.

"Clear skies, Han Solo." His voice was husky with emotion.

The myriad hums and whirs of the Falcon's revived systems were the only answer. But, as Brinden let his gaze rove over the interior of the Corellian pilot's beloved ship, he felt the same sense of peace that always greeted him when he was at home aboard his own vessel.

A faint smile pulled at his lips as he imagined the sigh of homecoming that the other man would have given as he came aboard. He smiled at his own imaginings. Da always claimed that I had more Solo blood than Tharen. Guess he was right.

The rising roar of the Falcon's engines shook Brinden out of his reverie and he flicked a quick glance down at the woman next to him. Surprised to find her watching him, he looked away quickly. Then, swallowing his discomfiture, he turned back to shoot her a cocky grin.

"Well, short stuff, I think maybe we'd better haul jets unless we want a one-way ticket off this dirt-clod." Kira sighed at the nickname, but let herself be pulled from the ship without argument.

Turning, Kira and Brinden made their way through the corridor to the head of the landing ramp. Brinden paused for a moment, glancing back into the Falcon's interior, before slapping the ramp controls. They both strode quickly down the ramp and stepped off of it onto the smooth rock floor of the building. Brinden turned, his eyes misty as he watched the ramp rise, shutting itself with a quiet hiss.

In tune with his melancholy quietness, Kira gave the hand that hadn't yet released hers a small squeeze, then a tug. "C'mon. We need to get the dome open and get outta range."

"Yeah." Visibly shaking off his melancholy mood, Brinden joined her, walking across the expanse of floor to the doorway.

Glancing upward, he triggered the controls for the domed ceiling and they watched it retract in silence, the two halves pulling apart and sliding down to reveal a desert-dark night sky that was studded with points of light. Blue eyes and green both unerringly picked out a constellation, locating with ease the brightest star in the group and fixing the ship's destination with twin stares.

The rising whine of the old freighter's engines overpowered the grinding clank of the dome's retraction and brought their gazes to her. Slowly, more slowly than she had ever risen when a cocky young Corellian smuggler had controlled her helm, she gained altitude, her repulsors lifting her up to escape the confines of the building.

Reaching a distance several ship-lengths above the dome, her nose tilted skyward, the bulky saucer-shape blocking out a large patch of stars. Prudently, Kira and Brinden took several hasty steps back just as, with a roaring whoosh of energy, the Falcon's ion drive kicked in, catapulting the starship upwards.

The two left behind watched the soaring ascent with emotion-brightened eyes for long moments, their ears ringing. As silence descended again, the ship having faded into a pinprick of light against the starry backdrop of sky, they turned to trade slow smiles of accomplishment.

Overwhelmed by the night's events, neither one moved or spoke for a long moment. Then, from a distance, the wail of an alarm broke into their thoughts and Brinden glanced down at the diminutive Jedi next to him.

A dark eyebrow quirked and he gave her a wry smile. "I think its time we left this party, don't'cha think?" Kira nodded silently and followed the lanky form of the spacer as he led the way out of the room at a quick trot.

Light years away from Tatooine's binary suns, a bulky Corellian YT-1300 stock light freighter blinked into existence, leaving behind the swirling kaleidoscope of light and color of hyperspace. Like a bird of prey, it swooped sharply toward the gleaming jewel of the planet below it, before banking sharply to the right.

For a long moment, its saucer-shaped profile was silhouetted against the light that was reflected back into space from the planet's surface. Then, with a victory roll that would have had its gravity compensators screaming dire warnings if there had been anyone aboard to hear them, the prow of the ship realigned itself.

Aiming toward the bright globe of Corellia's sun, it leaped forward with a shriek of engines that rivaled the hunting cry of its predatory namesake. With a blinding flash, the Millennium Falcon disappeared into the flaring corona of light--taking its final flight home.

Finis