"What am I doing here?" Han said, sat in a chair at a desk. Behind that desk sitting a potentially dangerous person, the person who may have perpetrated the last few months of hell that he had been through – Mon Mothma.
"Carlist told me about what happened to Leia. I'd like to express my deepest sympathies. She hasn't been to see me yet."
"Maybe she doesn't want to see you."
Mothma was a little throw. "Solo, I have been acquainted with the Princess Leia her whole life."
Han leaned forward. "Yes, but I know her more intimately than you do."
The tension was so great; Han could break it with a shot of his blaster. His blood pressure was increasing. This stand-off was growing rather childish, still, Mon Mothma and him never sat down and talked, just the two of them. Would they be discussing the context of their relationship? The notion was unsettling to Han.
"I will not have you speak that way about her. How dare you!"
"How dare I?" He was quickly losing his temper. "You may have everyone fooled with your good nature but you don't fool me. You've wanted to be rid of me from the moment you met me despite all I have done for the Rebellion. What better way to get me out of the picture than by practically turning Leia against me."
"Are you accusing me of poisoning the Princess?" Mothma shouting back and standing up.
"Yes I am!" Han said, standing also.
"How dare you! I love Leia as if she were my own daughter; I would never do such a thing. You're wrong – just like you're wrong for Leia."
There was a moment of silence. Han contemplated leaving but thought it would be more interesting to stay and see how this conversation develops so he sat back down.
"And how exactly am I wrong for Leia, Mothma?" He asked, looking up at her, challenging her.
Mothma was rendered momentarily confused.
"Let's have a civilised conversation, shall we?" he said, motioning for her to sit.
She sat down and took a minute to compose herself. "Well, for starters, the two of you are from completely different social backgrounds. She's an aristocrat. More than that, she's royalty and you're … common. She doesn't belong in that world. But she's just so infatuated with you. And that's a bad thing. She was raised always to do her duty, to do what's good for her people. And then you get yourself in your own trouble that has nothing to do with her yet she drops everything and runs to your aid."
It was like poison to Han's ear.
"Sounds like she was raised to die for what she loves."
"But that can't be you. That's petty, not the way of a leader. It's not the same, Solo."
"And here we are, on the same side, allies and yet arguing over something you just called 'petty'."
Mothma pondered for a moment as Han got up and walked to the door.
"You and I are the same, Mothma. We're both scarred."
"Scarred, Solo?"
"I lost family in the war too."