War of the Roses

by Kat Roland

"You mind telling me where we're going, Your Worship?" Han grumbled from the captain's chair.

The fading light over Hoth cast the ice plains below them in almost total shadow as the Millennium Falcon lifted off from Echo Base and accelerated smoothly to escape the atmosphere.

Leia turned to face him from her perch in the co-pilot's seat and handed him her datapad wordlessly. She honestly couldn't blame him for his grumpiness. Two days ago he had been persuaded to accompany her to an unnamed planet for a sensitive assignment despite being told almost none of the details. Leia recalled how she and General Rieekan had boarded Han's ship at the tail end of the dinner hour and asked to speak with him privately.

"Is there something I can help you with, General?"

Han's voice slid as near as it could into formality as he approached them holding a bottle and three glasses. Rieekan sat down easily in the booth nodding at Han; Leia remained standing, arms folded, declining the offer of a drink with a shake of her head. She watched the conversation closely, studying Han's body language as Carlist unfolded the request. She knew how he was planning to present it as well as the details behind it; Han knew nothing.

"It's a delicate situation," Rieekan was saying, "but there's an opportunity for a sizable payoff if things were to go well."

"It might help if I knew where you're sending us," Han retorted. "Two days gives me some time to prepare. Maybe even reach out to any contacts who could assist if we run into problems."

Rieekan shook his head firmly. "It's imperative that no one knows anything about this mission," he said. "Events are changing quickly on the ground; in two days time, we may decide to delay or scrap it entirely. That's why no one can know until you're off the ground and then only those on your ship."

"Except Her Highness." Han nodded in Leia's direction.

"Yes, naturally," Rieekan nodded. "She's been working behind the scenes on this for a while. It's taken a lot of careful preparation to get to this point."

"I don't doubt it," Han responded, looking up at her again. Leia bit the inside of her cheek as she felt the familiar churning in her stomach whenever Han gave her more than a fleeting glance. She held his eyes for a moment before breaking his gaze to study a suddenly fascinating clump of wires that had escaped from a misaligned panel on the hull. When she heard Rieekan inhale deeply, she forced her eyes back to the duo. This next part was not going to go over well.

"Captain, I'm afraid that Chewbacca will need to stay behind," Carlist said evenly. "We've considered various options and are concerned that the presence of a Wookie may introduce an additional complication."

Han leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms. "I don't like it," he said curtly. "He's my co-pilot and knows this ship as well as I do. Besides," he shot another look at Leia, "it's risky with just the two of us."

"I understand," Rieekan said soothingly. "But I strongly believe that once you become aware of your destination, you will be grateful that Chewbacca is safe back on Hoth."

"If that's the case, then it sounds like this mission doesn't have much chance of success to begin with." Han's voice was tense. "Not many places that are dangerous for Wookies are gonna be sympathetic to the Alliance."

"Normally I would agree with you," Rieekan admitted. "But our intelligence indicates that if we play our cards right in this scenario we may be able to make a deal to our advantage."

Han frowned and drummed his fingers on his ribs. Rieekan allowed a respectful pause before pressing again. "Captain, I'm sure you are aware that we are at a turning point in the war. This mission's success could give us the additional momentum we need."

The fingers stilled. "Fine," Han said shortly. He stared hard at Rieekan with an expression that Leia was tempted to describe as cynical. "But you gotta tell Chewie yourself."

"I'd be happy to," Carlist smiled. "I'll come back tomorrow when he's available. If there are any other details we can relate to you then, we will."

"I can't wait." Han studied his glass briefly before slinging it back. "Why does it always seem as though I'm the one assigned to these crazy escapades?"

"Not assigned; requested," Rieekan corrected him calmly. "And as an expression of our gratitude, we'll pay you double your usual rate."

"I'm not doing this for the money," Han grumbled. Leia wondered if she imagined the flicker of hurt that ran briefly over his features.

There was an awkward silence between the two men that Rieekan seemed to take as affirmation. He stood up from the booth and gave Han a friendly clap on his shoulder. "Thank you, Captain. If you are able to prepare your ship, we'll send the final verdict an hour before the scheduled departure." He moved to Leia's side and turned back at Han. "We'll be off now. Thank you for the drink."

Han stood belatedly and gave a half-hearted salute. "See you around, General."

Leia watched Han curiously as he scanned her datapad. He nodded to himself as if in confirmation before thrusting it back at her. "For Kriff's sake, Leia. This is where they're sending us?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

He sighed and drew his hand over his face. "There's been civil war on Caldira for years. Decades. Every week the current ruler — whoever the hell he is — is nearly overthrown for a new one." His voice rose. "At best — at best — you could say they're unenlightened despots." He leaned back and glared at her. "Personally, I would say they're trash, no good to anyone with a shred of decency."

"That's not fair," she protested. "Yes, their government has a history of repressive actions. But there are elements of the Kyrol dynasty in particular that are forward-thinking."

"Forward-thinking?" Han echoed incredulously. "That's generous."

"Sometimes diplomacy requires generosity," she shot back. "The Alliance is not going to pursue a deal with a faction that is unredeemable."

"And why are they sending you of all people here?" Han demanded. "Even without the Imperial target on your back, sending a woman onto a planet like this is just asking for trouble."

"I'm aware of the challenges, Han," she said archly. "High Command thought I was best suited for the mission."

"Oh, well, in that case." Han rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm. "Clearly High Command always makes decisions that are in the best interests of everyone."

"General Rieekan would not send me into a situation he believed to be overly risky," she said stiffly.

"You sure about that?"

Leia closed her eyes against the onslaught coming from across the cockpit. Wasn't he supposed to be on her side? "You know that Carlist is — was — a family friend for years. He's always looked after me. Not that I need it," she added coolly.

"Yeah, well." Han huffed. "Maybe it takes an outsider to see something for what it really is."

"Look," she said, her ire rising. "Given that the Empire has stayed out of Caldiran politics in recent years, this is a prime opportunity for the Alliance to gain another ally."

"The Empire has stayed away because they don't want to get involved in a hot war," Han said shortly. "Maybe they're being smart for once."

"The war has been more cold than hot these past few months."

Han threw up his hands. "I don't know why I bother. After all, you're the one who's supposed to be the idealist." He reached toward her with a look of resignation. "Let me see those coordinates again. We should get into hyperspace before someone notices we're orbiting."

Leia handed him back the datapad and strapped herself in. Han's fingers moved with their customary ease over the switches and levers of the consoles until the Falcon shifted into hyperspace with its familiar jolt.

As the stars streaked by, Leia stepped out of the cockpit into the empty corridor. "I'm starving," Han announced, close behind her. "You eaten yet?" His manner was more relaxed, as if all his energy had been expended during their debate.

"I did, a couple of hours ago," she admitted.

"Come sit with me anyway. I'll get you a drink. After all," he winked at her, "you wouldn't let me eat all by my lonesome, would you?"

She had long assumed that any insecurity on his part was feigned for effect, but it still had the power to charm her.

"Fine," she agreed, suppressing a smile. "Let me just put my things away."

She carried her bag through the ring corridor into the crew cabin and tossed it on her customary bunk. Her trips on the Falcon were becoming more frequent and Han always keep the bottom left bunk cleared for her, using the other three as additional storage depending on the need. Leia had grown accustomed to sleeping adjacent to heaps of X-wing parts, bins of medical supplies, and in the case of one memorable night, a crate of pulsating, iridescent glowworms that bathed the cabin in an eerie green light.

Out in the hold Han had laid out several small platters on the table. Leia followed the muffled noises and found him crouched in the galley rummaging through the cabinet next to the preserver.

He stood as she entered and pretended to appraise her carefully. "I thought you might be in the mood for a Scythian red."

"I don't think I've ever turned that down," she said. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion," he drawled as he uncorked the bottle, the muscles of his forearm flexing under the tanned skin, "is that I picked this up almost a year ago and was warned by the seller that it would go bad if I didn't drink it within a year."

"And here I thought you were trying to impress me," she teased.

Han grinned back at her. "If I haven't impressed you in the last sixteen months, there's no hope for it now."

She tried not to notice that he instantly recalled how long they had known each other, admiring instead his fluid movements as he reached up and plucked a goblet from the top shelf. He poured a healthy amount and took a step closer. "Here."

The galley suddenly felt even smaller than usual as she took the glass from him. She wondered yet again how he seemed to shape-shift his mannerisms so that one minute he was the picture of laid-back negligence and the next he was hovering with a coiled tautness of a jungle cat stalking its prey. His mood swings mirrored his body's movements too, going from combative to flirtatious and back again in the span of minutes.

Her heart stuttered when she realized that he was watching her closely. She sipped the wine nervously, trying her best to assume an air of nonchalance despite the heat of his body so near to hers.

"So." he said in a low voice.

Leia swallowed, her mind racing. "So?" she echoed.

His lips quirked up. "The wine. How is it?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. His smile widened as she took another sip pretending to focus on the crimson liquid. Had he always been able to see right through her? "It's good. Very good. Definitely one of the better wines I've had on your ship."

Han chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment." He grabbed another glass for himself. "After all, I can't compete with the top-shelf stuff they serve to the bigwigs on Coruscant."

"Those are never as good as you expect." She gracefully stepped around him through the hatch and wound her way to the table. "After a certain point you're just throwing credits away," she called over her shoulder.

He came up behind her and reached around to place a carafe of water on the table. "That's probably true for a lot of things."

Leia raised her eyebrows and sat down on the far side of the booth. Despite having eaten back on the base, the fresh food stirred her appetite anew.

Han noticed her eyeing the dishes. "Help yourself. You promised you wouldn't let me eat alone." He speared some nerf meat onto his plate. "And we should finish the fruit before it goes bad."

She helped herself to a thick wedge of sunfruit. "That seems to be the theme for tonight."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, steadily working through the meat and fruit and cheese, until the platters were nearly bare.

"So what's the story going to be when the others notice we're not around?" Han asked.

"I'm sure Carlist has come up with a vague explanation," Leia replied. "And anyway, it shouldn't come as a surprise that there are confidential assignments during war."

"I don't know," Han mused. "Luke can still be pretty naive at times."

Leia eyed him over the rim of her glass. "He's not as naive as you think. Not anymore."

"Good. Then he'll know what to do when Lieutenant Guila comes onto him."

Leia rolled her eyes. "That's old news. They've been seen together several times." Secretly she was glad to tell Han something he didn't know. Usually gossip arrived to her only after circulating first through the Rogues and by then Han had already gotten wind of it.

"Is that so?" Han cocked his head. "So he's finally over his infatuation with you?"

She frowned. "That was short-lived."

"If you say so." He gave her a knowing wink.

Leia studied her glass, not sure she was liking where the conversation was going.

"So who's taking over for Luke on Princess-infatuation duty?" She looked up to see him staring intently at her. "Or is there more than one suitor trailing after you these days?"

"You of all people should know that's not the case," she said too quickly. She flashed back to a base social just a week before the fleet moved to Hoth. Han had been away ferrying supplies to Echo Base and she had felt the eyes on her as she circulated around the room. Luke had made a tipsy comment later about how no one dared approach her even though Han wasn't there. She had tried unsuccessfully to forget it.

"Do I know it?" he murmured. His tone was intimate and his hand resting on the back of the booth looked different somehow, the fingers gentle and unassuming, unlike the way he usually carried himself. Not for the first time she wondered how those fingers would feel if they happened to find themselves on the bare skin of her back, her breasts, her.…

The thought of him touching her like that made her blush and she shifted in the booth to hide the twisting in her stomach. Enough of this, she scolded herself sternly.

"And what about you?" she said almost accusingly. "Did Ensign Sorley make her move yet? Or what about that old pilot friend of yours — what was her name?"

She couldn't suppress the feeling of satisfaction when his expression shifted. "It was over a long time ago between me and Rima," he muttered. "And I made it clear to Ensign Sorley that I wasn't interested."

Relief and jealousy and longing washed over her all at once. "Well, then."

"Well, then," he repeated.

There was no rumble from across the table or growling laughter down the hall to break the awkwardness between the two humans. Leia thought of the Wookie and his unstinting loyalty to Han and by extension to herself.

She looked up again. "Where's Chewie staying while we're gone?"

Surprise flickered across his face. "Uh, I think Rieekan found him an empty cabin." He shrugged. "Either that or he's staying in yours."

She smiled but didn't respond. The air had changed too much between them in the last few minutes.

Han seemed to feel it too. He stood up, stacking the empty plates absent-mindedly. "I should run some scans in advance of our landing. Do we need to go over the plan for when we get there?"

"What time are we scheduled to arrive?"

"Uh, around fifteen-hundred Hoth time. Tomorrow."

She checked her chrono. Just after twenty-one hundred.

"I'll brief you in the morning. I need to work on a couple of things tonight."

"You'll brief me. I love it." His tone was lighter again.

She gave him a sly look as she gathered the remaining dishes. "I know how much you like being told what to do."

"Only in a few very specific situations, Princess." His voice had dropped an octave. "Fortunately, your briefings happen to be one of them."

She blushed again and walked quickly to the galley. "You're impossible. Do you have any tea?"

"Yeah, over in the — you know." He waved a fork at the small tin next to the sink.

Mug in hand, she settled back into the booth with her datapad while Han wandered around the ship. Not for the first time she mulled over their strange friendship that could meander from supportive to teasing to combative in the span of mere seconds. She had long ago accepted her singular attraction toward him and was fairly sure that he felt similarly about her, that she wasn't just a fleeting sexual interest that failed to hold his attention for more than a few weeks. And yet something held both of them back, something beyond her innate protectiveness of herself after the destruction of Alderaan.

High risk, high reward. That was how Carlist had described this mission and she thought now that it was a fair description of the prospect of a relationship with Han. Usually the Corellian followed his instincts without hesitation, rarely bothering to consider the consequences. But when it came to the two of them, Han had proven to be as careful as she was, only advancing as much as he thought she would allow before retreating back to safety.

A muffled curse from the cockpit pulled her out of her thoughts. She shook her head wryly and turned back to her datapad, determined to finish her review and start her report before calling it a night. The prospect of a day without scheduled meetings was a luxury and only increased her anticipation of a relaxing morning. After all, she almost always sleep better on the Falcon.