Stoned Rose: Thank you so much! I definitely hope to be updating this at least fairly regularly…but of course school always grabs me at the most inopportune moments and then won't let go for weeks at a time…I'll definitely do my best though!
Eileen Blazer: Thank you so much for all your kind praise! I know what you mean about Leia's issues with the New Republic…but she's just such a giving, selfless person that I think she might just go nuts and do something like this. I mean, when you look back on parts of your life, stuff seems so clear and obvious, but when you're actually there making the decisions, it can be much more confusing. So I guess that's how I justify her hesitation. (Otherwise there wouldn't be a plot, too, so I have to justify it somehow, right?J)
The flaming angel: Why thank you! I don't know if we can compare this situation to Johnny Depp covered in…etcetera etcetera, but thank you anyway! As I mentioned to Stoned Rose, I definitely do plan on updating as often as possible!
Chapter 8:Han awoke slowly, regretting it as soon as he had enough presence of mind to take in his situation. The first thing he noticed was the pounding in his head. It felt like an army of miniature Ewoks were marching around in there, playing their war drums as fast and loud as possible. Han groaned, and regretted that immediately as well. Not only did it add a bunch of stomping banthas to the mess in his head, but it also made him realize how dry and raw his throat was. Finally he worked up the courage to open his eyes…and was so pleased by the fact that they weren't assaulted by lasers or sunlight that he decided to attempt to sit up. He soon discovered that every muscle in his body ached, as if he'd tried to run some sort of marathon on a heavy-grav planet. But, all in all, it wasn't so bad. He could definitely recall being in worse scrapes than this.
Then he remembered where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing. Find Dathomir…get Leia back… And he remembered what had happened instead. Or, at least, what had happened before he'd been mysteriously knocked out at the base of his landing ramp. He leaned his head against the wall and sighed. What the hell am I doing here?
His wondering didn't last long (either that or he had dosed off again) because what seemed like a few moments later, the door to the room he'd been locked up in opened. Stang, what's wrong with me? He wondered quickly before whoever it was had time to get inside the room. I wake up in a strange place on a strange bed after being knocked out and I don't even get up to try the door? Must've been some powerful stuff, whatever they got me with…He felt the back of his head for bruises, wondering if they'd literally knocked him out, or if they'd done something a little more subtle. Whoever "they" were…
It didn't take him long to find out. Two human women of average height (probably a little taller than Leia, he decided) entered the room, and he spent the next few seconds sizing up who he assumed were his captors. They were wearing tight body suits of some sort of reptile skin; it seemed, with nothing on their feet, which looked fairly normal, if a little calloused. Each held a large staff almost as tall as she was, and carved with mysterious designs. He felt the back of his head again, gently, figuring the sticks must be what they'd used.
Suddenly, one of them spoke, in a harsh, loud language that he didn't recognize from anywhere- and he'd heard (and seen) a lot of languages in his time.
"Uh, slow down, girls," he mumbled under his breath, bringing his hand around to the front of his head and rubbing his forehead miserably. He couldn't find any lumps on his head, so apparently they hadn't knocked him out with anything big and hard…unless they had some really fast-healing bacta-type stuff, which didn't seem likely, considering the lizard suits and the big sticks. But they certainly weren't improving his headache, jabbering on in that ugly language of theirs.
He was about to ask where his ship was when, suddenly, without warning, they strode over to him, hoisted him up by the elbows, and started to half walk and half drag him out of the room. Not taking the time to be amazed at their strength, Han concentrated on staying on his feet. The floor, which seemed to be whirling around him and doing its best to tip him over, was no help in his endeavors. He shook his head in frustration, trying to clear it of the swaying sensation. He didn't even have time to take notice of what sort of room they had been keeping him in before its door clanged shut behind him (that didn't really register either) and he was in some sort of open air hallway. On one side of them was a row of doors, presumably all to rooms like the one they'd just exited. On the other was a row of arches, open windows that extended from about his waist to roughly a meter above his head. And beyond the arches…nothing. Han squinted, turning his head to get a better view. Okay, so not exactly nothing. The equivalent of a few stories down, he could see what appeared to be the roof of another passage like the one he walked on now, and a few stories down from that, another one; there were about three below him. And below that there appeared to be flat ground as far as he could see, decorated by smallish dark dots at regular intervals. Or maybe that blue sliver off on the horizon was a lake. Or maybe I'm just imagining it all and this is some crazy spice-dream, he half-thought and half-wished to himself. Nope. No such luck, he decided after a moment's reflection, the grip these ladies have on my arm is way too strong to be a spice-dream. He wondered transiently whether there were many stories more of little passageways like this one above him…and decided it was too dizzying an idea to contemplate. He looked down at his feet, which were half walking and half dragging along behind him, and at the floor below them. No, not floor, he corrected. It seemed to be gravel and dirt. So this is all natural stuff. Some crazy kind of mountain? With stuff built into it, maybe? He decided he didn't really want to know the answer to that question either. He decided what he really wanted right now was to get his hands on some painkiller pills, and fast. This headache didn't seem to be going anywhere fast. Before he could decide whether or not it was worth it to try one more time to start a conversation with the women propelling him along, they came to a sudden halt and he looked dizzily up from his feet to take a glance around. And almost fainted.
All of a sudden, instead of seeming miles on end of covered passageway with doors and arches, there spread before him a plateau that he could just barely make out the other end of. And ambling around all over the plateau were huge beasts that looked vaguely familiar to him. He had a fleeting vision of himself with Leia, in the Falcon after their escape from Tatooine two years ago…with her filling him in on the details of their stay there, frustrated because he wasn't understanding what a rancor looked like, then her standing up excitedly and turning on her datapad, plugging in the handy encyclopedia-chip she always carried around her for emergencies, and pulling up a picture of a rancor for him. Well, if the rancors in those pictures had been normal sized, these were giants. When I get home, I'll have to burst Luke's bubble and tell him his buddy was only a midget, he thought. He would've laughed at his own joke if the situation hadn't been so dire. He stopped himself. When I get home? Who're you kidding, Solo? Who says you're ever getting home? Maybe your luck finally ran out…too bad Leia's not here to laugh. His throat choked up and he couldn't tell whether it was from anger (and whether that anger would have been at himself or Leia was a whole other story) or regret that he would never hear her laugh again.
His train of thought was broken by a different laugh, one he'd just as soon not have heard. He turned his head disbelievingly from side to side, looking at each of the women in turn. Their heads were thrown back and they were laughing in the same harsh voices they used for conversation, and they were most definitely laughing at him. Whether it was because he looked stunned on account of the rancors or angry or sad (on account of his situation in general), he couldn't figure out. Not that it mattered. Now he just felt angry. These ladies might be almost as strong as Chewie and they might have giant rancors for pets, but that didn't give them the right to laugh at him.
"What's so funny?" he shouted, feeling his strength come back with his anger. It felt good to get angry, especially after the past few weeks of careful self-control (that had failed him in the end, anyway) with Leia and her stupid prince, so he let it all out in a fluent stream of curses in every language he could think of, interspersed with graphic descriptions of the two women, their families, their pets, their planet, their hygiene, their intellects, and their general appearance. He finished by demanding once more what they found humorous about the present situation. Apparently, either they understood at least one of those languages, or just didn't like his tone of voice, because they started to laugh again, but with a more menacing tone, and grabbed him by the arms. Han had just enough time to reflect that venting on the people keeping him prisoner might not have been one of his brighter ideas before he felt himself being pushed and pulled all at once in a general upwards direction. The next thing he knew, he was securely mounted between one of the monster rancors' neck plates and the monster rancor was galloping down the mountain on a trail that Han couldn't make out at a speed that was incredibly impressive for a creature this size. It took almost all of his energy and concentration to stay on the thing…and the rest of it to keep from being sick.
Luckily, before he knew it, he was at the bottom of the mountain, on the dusty, barren plain. Now, he could see that the little blackish lumps he had seen dotting the ground from his former vantage point were, in fact, people. Actually, they were all men and all squatting on the balls of their feet, peering intently at the ground. As his rancor stopped at the edge of the plain, he realized that they were looking at holes. Each man had a hole in front of him, about the same circumference as the average human head, and each man was looking into it as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Yeah, maybe this is a spice-dream, Han reflected, and they're all having an even weirder one than me.
Once again, his thoughts were interrupted. This time, it was by the rancor, who suddenly bent forward and dumped Han unceremoniously on the hard, dry ground, making a cloud of dust puff up around him.
"Ungh," Han groaned aloud, bringing both hands to his forehead in attempt to still the pounding and ringing that was scrambling his mind. After a few moments, he slowly stood, just in case one of the hole-watching guys should decide to get up and add some more bruises to Han's now-flourishing collection. When that didn't happen, Han took the unexpected leisure time to look around him. The mountain went down steeply all the way to where it met the plain and most of it was carved into little cave-looking dwellings, most of which looked empty for the moment. Empty, but lived in. Maybe all these men, who populated the field for as far as he could see, lived in the little caves. Or maybe the women he had seen swarming around the various plateaus and passageways higher up. Or maybe the angry-looking one that was striding toward him from the direction of the caves right then, with a very stern look on her face. He took a very brief moment to observe that she had a rather nice figure, outlined very tightly in a green version of the lizard suits he had seen on the women who had dragged him around. Her hair was a flaming red that he usually didn't find very attractive, but, contrasted with the green, wasn't half bad. What he didn't like was the whip-looking thing in her hand.
He found his premonitions weren't far from right when she got closer and cracked it menacingly at him. He looked back at her with what he hoped was a bold and challenging look, but all he got for his trouble was another crack of the whip thing. He hoped she was planning to use it on the rancor rather than him, and was disappointed to find that the darned thing had disappeared. Probably went back up the mountain. Smart animal, he had time to think before the woman planted herself squarely in front of him.
She wasn't as old as he'd first assumed. Certainly no older than Leia, he decided. But thoughts of any kind left his head when she spoke. In Basic.
"Name. Teneniel Djo," she said in a clipped, abrupt voice, "You. Men." She indicated the field of men squatting next to holes that surrounded them.
"Uh, nice to meet you, too" Han said, not daring to hold out a hand to her, "My name's Han. Han Solo. You might've heard of me. Actually, I know for a fact that there are quite a few people out there that would be willing to pay lots of money to have me back, you know," he continued conversationally, squinting at her in the glare of the sun, which reflected harshly from her hair and clothes.
"You. Men," she repeated, motioning towards the field again.
"Yeah, I know. We're all men and there's a whole lot of them doing gods-know-what over there. My point is-" he began again.
"You, men!" she said forcefully, cracking her whip in their direction again.
"Or not," he mumbled in reference to his ransom idea. Apparently she didn't take it that way and all of a sudden there was another iron grip on his arm, dragging him along towards his fellow men. As they drew nearer, he noticed a few un-manned holes and an uncomfortable feeling sank into his belly. Finally, the girl (or woman; he couldn't decide) stopped almost on top of one of the holes and pointed at it sternly.
"You." And another jab at the hole, "now."
"Okay, okay, I get it, I get it," he answered, easing himself to the same squatting position as the rest of the men. Once she seemed satisfied that he understood, the native walked away, throwing a look over her shoulder every few meters. Han watched her go with a mixture of admiration, apprehension, and anger. As yet, there was only one other woman in the world that could get him to obey so easily. Then again, the woman he had in mind had never needed a whip and enough drugs to take out a tauntaun to do so. Leia, where are you? He wondered, taking a moment's break to look up at the sky before coming up with a much more appropriate question. Where the hell am I?
Several hours later, he had come to the conclusion that those other men either had much better knees than he did, had had a lot of practice, or were considerably more uncomplaining that he was willing to be about the whole kneeling situation. He was about to stand up and do some hearty complaining to whoever would listen when suddenly something shot past in the hole. Something long, white, and strange looking. He peered down at the hole curiously, wondering if that was what all these men were watching so intently for. Whatever it was, it must have traveled to another hole, because all of a sudden the cry went up from one of his neighbors.
"Whuffa!"
"Whuffa, whuffa!" his peers joined in, "whuffa!"
Han stood up, startled, and looked around him, wondering what a whuffa was and why it made these guys so excited. Suddenly, the white worm-looking thing appeared in his hole again. Without any conscious thought on his part, one of his hands shot out and grabbed it, quickly joined by the other. In a flash, the other men gathered around him in an awed mob, before he could even figure out why he had done a crazy thing like that. Well, it seemed it was the right thing to do after all.
"Whuffa! Whuffa!" the mob around him cried. He heard what he decided to take as encouragement in several different languages he vaguely recognized, and a whole bunch of others he didn't. He looked up in confusion, about ready to drop the thing, which seemed to be trying to get away.
"Whuffa!" they shouted some more, in a more desperate tone. Could it be that the lucky man to catch a whuffa was a newcomer and didn't know what to do about it? They looked at each other in wonder and quickly started making pulling motions.
"So I'm supposed to pull this thing out of the ground?" Han mumbled to himself, "well, fine then." Not like I've got anything better to do, he reminded himself silently. He started pulling, one hand over the other, still wondering why he had to be the one to do all the pulling. He looked up at the expectant faces of the other men once, quickly, and wondered why they didn't join in to help. The whuffa (he assumed that was the thing's name) was putting up quite a fight, after all.
About a half hour into it, his arms began to tire and he began to wonder just how long a whuffa was. Ten minutes later, he had decided, by the looks on the faces of all the men that this was a whuffa of extraordinary length. Sure. Of course I get stuck with the super-sized whuffa.
It took him a full two hours to get the whole thing out of the ground, and by that time it was coiled into a sprawling pile about twice as big as he was. His fellow whuffa hunters were in a state of ecstatic joy, jumping up and down, rolling around laughing, clapping each other on the shoulder, and venturing hesitantly closer to investigate Han's handiwork and to get a closer look at the hero himself. Apparently a whuffa, especially one of this size, was regarded as quite a prize, and not one to be touched by anyone but its captor.
Han would have been proud to be the center of attention and a hero, by the looks of it, (under normal circumstances it certainly wouldn't have bothered him that he still had no idea why or what he was being proud of) but, as he brushed his sweaty, chapped hands off on his pants, he felt the dizziness and weakness he'd forgotten during his whuffa-hunt coming back. Must be more out of shape than I thought, he decided, moving one hand to wipe at his forehead and steady his balance. Before it could get there, he felt the same blackness as the day he'd arrived here settling in on him, and he didn't even have time for a last thought this time…
Leia awoke suddenly, curled into as tight a ball as she could manage, and gasping for air. Han! Her mind screamed out in desperation.
"Please, no," she whimpered plaintively, "please, gods, no. Han…" she shut her eyes tight against the images in her mind, the images of her latest nightmare. She had nightmares on a fairly frequent basis, generally more so when she was under great amounts of stress or pressure, but they usually involved some fear or failure from her past: the Death Star, Alderaan, refugees, Vader…anything from her past that had once caused her to feel fear or failure. Never before had Han figured so prominently in them.
She had been walking down the passageway of the Death Star, under heavy fire, of course, just like it had been on that day six years ago, when they'd first met. The difference, this time had been that Han had been shot as he leapt heroically into the garbage chute…and then he'd sunk to the bottom of that awful lake of garbage, continuing to sink and sink and sink, with an expression of pure shock and horror frozen on his face, getting further and further away from her before she could reach out to grab him and save him, even though in reality the "lake" had been only a foot or so deep.
"Han," she gasped again, as the almost physical pain of missing him gripped her chest. She clutched whatever she was holding tighter to her chest, not realizing that it was only a pillow (not Han, no matter how hard she wished it were). When she did realize what it was, she released it, bringing fresh tears to her face, and brought it back up to the head of the bunk, pulling the covers more tightly around herself as she went. But she couldn't really be warm, not without Han…
Luke sat cross-legged on his bunk, his eyes closed and his head leaning against the wall that separated the room he'd chosen from that where Leia slept, listening to her. It was the second time that night that she'd awakened him with her cries, and this time he didn't force himself back to sleep. Instead, he sat up and listened, figuring he could permit himself to eavesdrop if it was for her own good. What he heard both worried and relieved him. I know which path she should take now, that's for sure, but if anyone knows how to do it, it certainly isn't me…
He lay back down, wishing he could go in and comfort his sister, but knowing he wouldn't really be welcome. Only Han would be welcome right now, and that thought filled him with regret, too. Why didn't I realize it before?