Between the Lines
by suezahn
Disclaimer: All characters depicted herein are the property of Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. My only profit is in the form of readers' feedback. Please be generous!
Note: This story was originally written in 1995 and has now be revised and updated for consistency with the rest of the Kismet series. Please note that the OC name Kristin Aldritch = Keris Aldric now. I decided the old name was too "Earthy." A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce. The original story was awarded STAR aWARdS Best Long Story 1995.
Chapter 3
"Hey, Luke!" An increasingly habitual frown marring his forehead, Solo stepped around a partially assembled T-47 Airspeeder engine and rapped his bare knuckles on the metallic fuselage of the gutted Snowspeeder. "You in there?"
Luke Skywalker whacked his knuckle as his grip on the hydrospanner slipped. He let out a little curse and stuck the injured joint in his mouth as he emerged from the opened cockpit. Upon seeing who had startled him, however, the young commander's expression brightened and he yanked the knuckle out of his mouth. "You're back!"
"Observant as ever, Kid. You got a minute?"
"Sure, Han." Luke grabbed a rag draped over the edge of the cockpit and wiped the grime off his hands. Noticing the unpleasant expression on his friend's face, Luke grinned. "Whoops. I take it you've already run into the princess."
"In more ways than one," Han supplied in disgust.
"She's not too pleased with you. You're lucky you were out of firing range for a while."
"So I've noticed. That's the thanks I get for helping her out. Listen," Solo started, attempting to switch topics. "When you've got some spare time, me and Chewie could use an extra hand realigning the Falcon's alluvial dampers. She took a hit over Serricci and they were knocked out of sync."
"Sure. I can help out right now. Until the mech techs are ready to refit that engine, I'm just wasting time right now anyway," Luke said as he made a loose gesture towards the drive mechanism of the atmospheric fighter.
"The sooner the better. I'll never get Jabba off my back if I'm forever stuck in some blasted Rebel hideout working repairs."
Luke had begun to extricate himself from the tight confines of the Snowspeeder cockpit, but he paused upon hearing the Corellian's words. It had been a relatively long time since he'd heard Han talk about leaving the Alliance.
So that's why Leia's been in such a foul mood lately.
Han and Leia usually bragged, quipped, or otherwise bitched about the times they'd worked together. On this occasion, however, Leia had remained close-mouthed about her successful mission to Ord Mantell. Although Luke hadn't gotten the chance to grill Solo for details, the smuggler wasn't volunteering any information either, and that was definitely out of character. By whatever private agreement, the reluctant duo was keeping Ord Mantell to themselves.
Far from jealous, Luke instead felt curious and not a little disappointed. Some time ago, he'd accepted the rather obvious fact that Han was a better match for Leia. They stormed with one another at times, but otherwise seemed well-balanced. He thought their relationship was progressing mind-numbingly slow at times, but it was progressing just the same and he was glad. As entertaining as the arguments could be, the couple's routine was getting old and Luke was no longer the only Rebel on base willing to play matchmaker if it meant bringing some peace to their little corner of the civil war.
Han saw Luke's hesitation and seemed to correctly interpret the look of concern. "Save the lecture for your cadets," he said sharply as he stepped back to allow Luke room to descend from the fighter.
Luke slid down the hanging ladder and dropped to the icy deck with practiced agility, then rubbed his hands together to warm up his fingers. "You know I gave up lecturing you a long time ago. Like my uncle used to say, there's no use pounding your head against the wall when there are perfectly good doors."
"Thanks," Han responded dryly. "That's just the kind of thirdhand wisdom I need right now."
"Any time. There's more where that came from," Luke replied with a grin as he stooped down to shut off the remote for the space heater he'd been using to warm up the cockpit during his work. "So, how did your shuttling to Sullust—"
Luke's sentence was interrupted by the sudden but now familiar sharp crackle of the personnel address system cutting in. At first, there was a stream of unintelligible noise, snippets of words and digital chatter, but then with atypical clarity came the words, "—bored putting that back together."
Luke straightened up, ready to joke about the unpredictability of the base intercom.
"That's Leia," Han said with an abrupt intensity that made Luke halt mid-thought and pay more attention to the broadcast conversation as well.
"—ask you something personal? What…Ord Mantell? You've…Something's changed and…start guessing on my own—"
"Leia and Lieutenant Aldric," Han amended. His alert posture and the set of his dark eyebrows demonstrated his concentration.
"Yeah," Luke stated. "That's definitely them. Maybe we should go tell them—"
Han gave up on his vigorous hushing gestures towards Skywalker and clamped a large hand over his friend's mouth as he hissed, "Will you put a lid on it, Kid?! I'm trying to listen."
"—don't know. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the place, or just our moods, or the wine, the dancing…from him, wasn't it?
"He was charming, attentive…couldn't resist anymore. I didn't want to. No, no, we didn't…you know…but I think we came very close. I stopped it before—"
Luke had pulled away from Han and was about to stress again that they should warn her of the open link, but then her last words made him stop in his tracks and look at the smuggler as if just seeing him for the first time. So something had happened between them after all. Now it was all starting to fall into place.
"—thought we had reached an understanding. I thought maybe…—very cold, and he refused my—"
The link began to break up and Han growled in frustration. His eyes scanned the carved-out hangar ceiling for the PA speakers as if willing them to continue broadcasting.
Having heard enough, Luke stepped out of Solo's reach and directed a chastising glare at him. He was disturbed by the look of gratification that had transformed the smuggler's face. "Han, that's as bad as eavesdropping."
Han tossed back a look of disbelief at Skywalker's exercise in virtue. "It's over the frackin' intercom! What do you want me to do, stick snow in my ears? Besides, she's talking about me. That makes it my business. Now shut up, would you?"
"—afraid he'd just hurt—attracted to him. Yes, he's gorgeous. But that's hardly…—war has cost me nearly everything. I can't love—"
With a final uncomfortably loud crackle of static, the intercom switched off as abruptly as it had cut in.
Luke glanced around, now conscious of just how quiet the entire hangar had become. Deck crews, mech techs, pilots, and soldiers alike seemed to have halted mid-task, their heads tipped upwards in positions of attentive listening, just as caught up in the remote drama. Then someone made a muffled comment, no doubt at the princess' expense, and a wave of laughter rippled from one end of the hangar to the other from the inappropriate joke as it was passed along.
Mortified for Leia's sake, Luke turned back to look at Han and wasn't surprised to find that Solo's expression had turned unreadable as he stared unseeing at the metallic innards of the Snowspeeder. Any sign of gratification had disappeared. Then he, too, seemed to become aware of the amused looks from the surrounding base personnel directed toward him. Luke was suddenly reminded of an explosive incident back on Serricci over nine months ago when Han had caught some incautious gossipers in action, and he tensed in case he'd need to intervene again.
Instead of anger, though, Han remained atypically subdued as he nodded his head towards the side alcove in which the Falcon was docked. "Come on, Kid. I've got a lot of work to do," he growled.