From a Certain Point of View
They arrived on Cloud City with a few new blaster scorches on the Falcon's patched up hull. But they were eventually welcomed and greeted by the infamous Lando Calrissian who seemed to take much pleasure in reminding Han that the Falcon was rightfully his property. After some good-natured teasing, Lando showed Han and Chewie to a penthouse guest suite and invited them for dinner later that evening at his home.
Lando's apartment was the perfect reflection of the man that he was or at least the man that he wanted to be, Han thought upon surveying Lando's home. The windows dripped with heavy, fabric curtains in dark-jeweled tones that puddled onto the polished floors which mirrored the scenery in perfect reflection. The walls were dressed with oil paintings and hand-painted filigrees. Stone statues, taller than Chewbacca, occupied each room like permanent party guests.
The ceilings were painted dark and the apartment's lighting was sparse and indirect, lending an exalted importance to the fading, orange glow of sunlight pouring through the tall windows. Han and Chewie sat across from Lando at a long dining table that was capable of seating over a dozen beings. The color on the walls matched the underside of Lando's cape and Han wondered if he had the room painted each day to match his outfit.
The trio enjoyed a five course meal and as Kasha - a sinewy brunette with skin just a shade darker than Lando's and legs longer than Han's - cleared their dessert dishes and presented a vintage bottle of Corellian brandy, the old friends had just about made it to the end of memory lane.
For those that think that scoundrels and outlaws don't have their own etiquette and honor, they most certainly do. And although Han was fully aware that Lando knew that this was more than a mere social visit, it was part of the code to act as if scoundrels visited scoundrels for the pleasure of their company and not for any ulterior motives, that is until you've at least had a drink or two.
Han being more of the refined kind of scoundrel, had waited until the second bottle of brandy began to pour before he got down to business with Lando. "So, I know you're wondering why we're here," Han began.
"Not him," Lando replied with a pointed finger in Chewie's direction. "But you, yes. I'm on pins and needles, as a matter of fact."
"I bet. Well, just to put your mind at ease, I don't need money and I ain't on the run."
"That has only piqued my curiosity."
Han leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "There's some sort of Jedi roundup going on and we're fairly certain they'll be hitting Bespin in the next few weeks. We need to either get a track on where they're going with the selected candidates or we need to get me selected somehow, rig the test or something."
"Oh," Lando replied as he rested back in his chair, elbows resting on the arm rests and steepling his fingers together. "Is that all?"
"Yeah, have you heard anything about anything like that?"
Lando leaned forward and took a sip of his drink, a sly smile slowly crawling across his face. "I have been forewarned of such a visit," he replied and as he set his drink down he pointed at Han and added, "Under the strictest of confidence, orders signed by the New Republic Chief of State, no less. Now, why in the nine hells of Corellia doesn't it surprise me that you know about it?"
Han leaned back in his chair and grinned. Half the battle had been won; they had placed themselves ahead of their prey. He took a slow sip from his whiskey and then asked, "So, will you help us?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On what I'm helping you do," Lando replied and then raised his voice for emphasis as he added, "And I mean full disclosure, remember I know most all of your tells."
Han raised his hands up in surrender. "Full disclosure, buddy. I'll tell you everything."
Another bottle of Corellian brandy later and Han had finished his true, yet very truncated story.
"Let me get this straight," Lando said as he straightened himself up in his chair. "The Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. You and Princess Leia?" When he finished speaking he was not looking at Han, but at Chewie.
Chewie cooed in a deep, Wookiee-like chuckle and raised his empty paws to Lando as he shook his head repeatedly.
"Don't look at him," Han roared at Lando. "I'm telling you the truth. And what's so hard to believe about it?"
Lando laughed. "You're right. I'm sorry, old buddy. That's all perfectly believable." When he finished, he pressed his palms against the table and pushed himself to a standing position. "I really have to thank you for the entertainment. I had forgotten how delusional you could get when you're drinking."
Han slapped his hand against the table and shook his head in disgust.
"Like, remember the time you thought that high society dame was giving you the eye all night?" Lando offered, his cape swinging forward as he leaned against the table in Han's direction. "And it turned out that she-"
Han stood up and growled, "I remember." He leaned on the table so his face was close to Lando's. "Are you going to help us or not?"
Lando straightened up and gave Han an easy smile. Flinging his cape off of his shoulder regally, he replied, "I'll help you. If only for the sheer amusement." And then Lando walked toward the exit, whirling around in the doorway as if he had just remembered something. "Oh, and be sure to have your credit chips ready, old buddy. My amusement doesn't come cheap." And then he left.
Chewie and Han looked at one another and then around the room they had been left in. It was a surprise to neither of them that Lando had opted for the dramatic exit over polite manners. Han shrugged his shoulders and swigged the last of the brandy left in his glass as he waited for Chewie to do the same. Chewie stood and Han looked down at the newly opened bottle of brandy left sitting on the table.
Taking one more look around the room, Han swept his arm out casually, almost fluidly with one, slow, deliberate motion and swiped the bottle off of the table. Nodding his head to Chewie, the pair strode out of Lando's apartment in no particular hurry. Han taking a long drag from the brandy bottle and Chewie with his paw not-so-discreetly resting on his bowcaster.
Han and Chewie spent over a month on Cloud City waiting for the first crew to arrive. The plans were to let Lando scout out the logistics looking for any chinks in their armor. Their hope was to get Han into the testing and forge his paperwork somehow so that he would be delivered to wherever they were taking everyone.
The forward crew had arrived and Han and Chewie were waiting for Lando to arrive and discuss their options. It was nearly midnight when the front door of their suite finally swooshed open and Lando glided in.
"Sorry I'm so late," Lando said sincerely and to Han's disappointment, very gravely. "These guys aren't messing around."
The group walked over to the dining table and sat down around it. Han and Chewie waiting silently for Lando to elaborate.
"The good news is that the testing and seclusion has already started so I know exactly what we're dealing with," Lando began calmly, pressing his fingers against the table for emphasis.
"But the bad news?" Han asked, skeptically.
"But the bad news is, it isn't some puffed up band of bureaucrats where you're sure to find one rotten apple amongst twenty. It's two people and they were not at all responsive to my charms."
Chewie woofed something that needed no translation for either man and Han said, "You're right, Chewie. There's always a first time for everything."
"Yeah, well, it gets worse," Lando replied, not amused.
"Worse, how?"
"The testing. There's no way I can help you pass it."
"Why not?"
"They take a vial of your blood and test it for something called midi-chlorians. Once the blood passes the vial is destroyed and that candidate is sequestered. The vial never leaves the guy's hands; I watched, believe me. And I can't switch you with another candidate, I don't know who's gonna pass or fail, it'd be blind luck that you would ever get swapped with a successful vial. They're only getting about one in every fifty candidates with the right count."
"Great. I can't fake a blood test." Han's face fell and there was no trace of amusement left in his demeanor.
The room fell silent as the three contemplated their situation. Both Lando and Han would occasionally throw out ideas that were quickly shot down by the other if not by themselves upon hearing them out loud. Lando reclined in his chair and exhaled in defeat as he watched Han stand up and begin to pace the room.
[Let me be tested.]
Han stopped walking and turned to look at Chewie. "What good will that do, buddy? I don't think you can fake a blood test either."
[I won't have to fake anything. I am Force sensitive.]
"What?" Han and Lando replied in unison.
[What?] Chewie shrugged his shoulders and woofed.
Han folded his arms across his chest. "Well, a few important Sabacc games come to mind for one thing."
[I would not use the Force to win a card game.]
"What? So, now you're philosophical?"
[I think we are losing sight of the mission. But to answer your question, I haven't ever been anything but.]
Han shot Chewie a double-take and then looked to Lando.
"I can get him in the test group. If he's telling the truth-"
[What is that supposed to mean?] Chewie roared.
"Alright. Alright," Lando sat up in his chair and raised his hands at Chewie. "When he passes the test, he'll be put into immediate seclusion. He'll be taken on their ship and searched for any transmitters or communicators of any kind."
[Good luck.]
"Chewie's right. I doubt any one of them has the stones to do a regulation search of a full-grown Wookiee."
[A full-grown, Force sensitive Wookiee.] Chewie added with puffed up pride.
"Yeah, we'll see about that," Han eyed him doubtfully.
"They'll have electronic sweeps as well," Lando warned.
"Not a problem. Chewie can have the transponder switched off until he gets where he's going. It may put us a few days behind him, depending on where they go in the galaxy, but at least we'll be able to find him."
"I can't help but notice that you are using the pronouns of 'we' and 'us'," Lando pointed out lightly.
"It's okay, buddy. Just habit. I know you have your responsibilities here. You get Chewie tested and I can handle the rest on my own."
"I would love to come, especially on anything involving a beautiful damsel in distress," he replied with a flashy grin. "But, as you say, I have responsibilities here."
It was the sound of Chewie's transponder that woke Han up one morning. He had to stare at it for several moments before the reality of the situation hit him. Coming to his senses, he flipped a few switches and hit a few buttons and locked in on the coordinates that were being sent to him through space.
"I'll be a son-of-a-Sith," Han grumbled as he looked at the readout. "Yavin four."