Chapter 5

"Chewie, have you seen Leia this morning?" Han Solo asked innocently, sliding into his trousers. At last the med-droid had discharged him and he was more than eager to leave the med-ward.

No, Han, the Wookiee answered, passing him his shirt.

"Yesterday?"

Mid-afternoon. Did you two fight or something? Chewbacca's blue eyes narrowed.

"No..." Han said, dubiously. "Not that I know..."

The Wookiee had learned over the years to read the slightest facial expressions of his human companion, and this one spoke plainly of guilt. Dammit, what did you do, pal? he asked with concern, handling him his boots. The Corellian had an uncanny ability to ruin his own life.

"Nothing... Nothing really..." he said, shrugging. "But Lee was here last night and if the Princess saw her..."

Lee was here? You'll never learn, pal, Chewie sentenced, shaking his head.

By the time Han discovered that the Princess had taken a shuttle at dawn to Home One, Rieekan had summoned him to his office. There he told him that he had an appointment with General Madine at 1600hs in the command ship.

While he waited for his turn to lift off, he tried to comm Leia. A woman he had never met before answered the call. "Good morning," she said genially, "I'm Princess Organa's assistant for the day, how can I help you?"

She had a very distinctive silvery hair in spite of her obvious young age, and spoke in a high-class Core-accented Basic.

"I need to speak to the Princess, please," he asked politely. He would be patient. Yes, he would be.

"Please declare your name and your business, sir," the Princess's aide answered.

"I'm Captain Han Solo and my business with the Princess is private," he replied, winking at her.

"Ah, the famous Captain Solo," the woman smiled beatifically.

"The famous Winter, I suppose." Now he recalled what Leia had told him about her friend. Her hair had been originally as dark as Leia's, but it had turned completely white overnight when she learned of Alderaan's fate.

"Pleased to meet you, Captain," Winter said, nodding at him.

"Me too," he said hurriedly. "Can you please now patch me through to Leia?" He emphasized strongly the words please and now.

"I'm very sorry but I can't, Captain," the Alderaanian denied graciously. "Her Highness is busy at the time. Is there something else I can do for you?"

Han Solo frowned. "No, just tell the Princess that I need to talk to her." All right, the message was clear, he would wait for Leia to call him back.

Princess Leia watched the Millenium Falcon queuing to dock with Home One through a port in her office.

It had been a hellish night where she had not slept at all. The image of Han being kissed by the blonde kept popping in her mind every time she tried to relax. It was to no avail that she tried to think of all the good things she had shared with him in that unforgettable voyage on board the Falcon. She had believed that his words of love meant something, but she had been wrong. He probably said those to every one of his lovers.

Evidently, Han Solo was not made to love only one woman, and she had been the greatest fool in dreaming that he would change for her.

The morning had been even worse than the restless night. It seemed that every few minutes someone would mention Han. Of course, it had been no secret that she had taken part of his rescue and Han had made clear that her little indiscretion of the night before was widely known. Maybe the whole Alliance knew by now of her mistake.

Anyway, her bad mood had been growing steadily until she almost terrorized the cook's aide in the galley at lunch when she had dared ask about Han's health. "I'm not Solo's press representative," she had uttered coldly. The tiny Twi'Lek girl - a teenager by her species standards - had almost dropped the tray she was carrying.

Damn him.

Princess Leia's assistant for the day and life-long friend Winter watched her in turn. It had been over a year since she had seen her in person and there had been not much time to catch on yet. Leia had pretended to be very focused in her current assignment but she could not fool her.

The Princess had been on the verge of tears while silently signaling her to deny her when she had answered the Corellian's holo-comm call. She did not know what was going on between Solo and the Princess, but she guessed that it must be something very important, because she had never seen Leia so upset about a man before. Odd. For all she knew, they did not get along very well, although the Princess had praised his inventive and his courage a few times in the past. But stranger things happened in war time.

Winter did not know much really about Han Solo, only second-hand rumors, and it was not her habit to pay attention to gossips. She preferred to judge by herself. If half the rumors were true, she was sure the Princess would not have given him the time of the day. Anyway, after that first call, the Princess had curtly asked her to not pass to her any calls from him. Her voice had faltered while pronouncing his name, though.

The job Leia had been assigned was another issue. Logistics was a busy but not very demanding task, way below Leia's capabilities and rank. May it be Mon Mothma's subtle way of punishing her for not living up to her expectations? She respected the old Senator, but she could be certainly rigid sometimes. It was true that the Princess had dropped almost everything to go to Solo's rescue, but that was something that would surprise only those who did not know Leia well. She would do anything for someone she considered her friend, or her responsibility. And from some clues she had dropped here and there, Winter understood that the smuggler had saved her life more than once. More than enough reason for an Organa. Nevertheless, her instincts told her that this may be something more than friendship.

Finally, Winter decided to address her friend directly. "Greggin," she started, calling her by the nickname she had donned as a child. Greggin, which meant rainbug in Basic. As a little girl, the Princess had loved to go out in the warm summer rain and come back covered in mud from head to toes. The name was her form of recalling Leia of how far her friendship went.

"Greggin, I don't know what happened between you and the Captain, but not talking to him won't solve anything..."

Leia Organa shook her head. "I don't know what to say to him."

If the Senator was at a loss of words, Winter thought, things were definitely bad. But the logic answer was clear. "In that case, maybe you should listen to what he has to say."

The dark-haired woman looked hurtly at her friend. "I don't know if I can believe him anymore."

"You've always been good at knowing if people lied to you, why would this be different?"

"This is different," Leia said in a tone that discouraged any further discussion. She looked so defeated, though. Winter just crossed the room and hugged her friend tightly, surprising her greatly.

Four calls and six hours later, Han Solo's patience was definitely wearing thin. The meeting with Madine had gone reasonable well, or at least that was what he believed. The ex-commando was a tough interrogator and had let out little or nothing about the mysterious mission. Nor had been disclosed what part he would have in it. Only that he should make himself available next day at 0600hs.

It would be easy for him to find Leia's office and go there to see her, but he did not want to make a scene about this. He had just joined the Alliance officially and he did not want to irritate further the people that would be already irritated by that. He would not give her more reasons to reject him. His position was precarious enough as it was.

"As I told you before, Captain, the Princess is busy at the time," Winter said for the umpteenth time, her face imperturbable.

Maybe the coldness was something innate to all Alderaanian women, the Corellian thought before insisting again. "Are you even allowed to tell me that she doesn't want to talk to me?" Only his Princess was cold only on the outside and that was the most enticing thing about her.

"I'm afraid not, Captain," she said with an enigmatic half-smile. "And I'm not allowed to tell you that she's staying in cabin B-16 either."

Han Solo blinked, wondering if he had heard right. But then, a lopsided grin brightened his face.

The best thing about Mon Calamari ships, in Leia's opinion, was the plenty of water in all their freshers. The hot liquid for showers was a luxury most military cruisers could not afford, but the amphibian builders of this ship thought otherwise.

Stepping out of the fresher after a long, hot shower, Princess Leia slipped into a shimmersilk robe. The fabric was light yet warm, of the palest pink imaginable, so pale that it looked pearly gray under the utilitary illumination of the room. Some called the color Alderaanian Dawn. The texture of the cloth was so soft that the designer had to put a hidden safety fastener to avoid it to slide down the shoulders of the wearer at the slightest movement. It was a naming-day gift from Winter, who alleged that someone had given it to her, only to discover that it was too small for her long limbs. Still, the garment had been cut for a woman taller than Leia, and the bottom of the robe pooled somewhat at her feet, but she did not care at all. It was the nicest thing she had wore in a long time.

The dinner her friend had also provided was still untouched over the small table, but she was not hungry. She was so exhausted that the only thing she really wanted was a good night sleep. Maybe she would wake up and Han kissing Lieutenant G'Mendez would be only a bad dream.

Finishing the nightly brushing of her hair, she had just started to braid it again when someone knocked on her door. Resignedly, she opened the hatch.

A familiar figure was standing on the other side. Somehow, she was not surprised.

"Good evening, Princess," he said.

"Good evening, Han," Leia answered coldly.