"Wow."
The sudden noise startled Han and Leia awake. She nearly pulled her newly acquired blaster before remembering where she was and that the source of the exclamation was ostensibly their boss.
"I'm impressed," continued Buff, as he tossed a well-worn shoulder bag behind the bar and began flicking on lights. "But next time, no sleeping on the job. We're not paying you to nap."
Han put a hand on Leia's shoulder to keep her from snapping back with a rude retort as he stood up, stretching out the kinks in his neck that were a reward for falling asleep awkwardly propped up in one of the dining booths. "You got our money?"
Buff opened the cash register and carefully counted out credit coins. "You comin' back tonight, I hope? This place hasn't looked so good in years. We might have to start charging a cover." Handing them to Han, he added, "I might even be able to convince the big man to give you a raise."
"Yeah, we'll be back," Han said slowly. "In fact, we noticed you have a nice little lounge up there. You mind if we crash for a couple hours? We'll stay out of the way."
Buff gave him a quizzical look. "You don't have a place to stay?"
Taking a risk, Han ventured, "We took off from the surface levels pretty quick when everything started going down, then got mugged right away. So no, we've got nothing." He shot Leia a warning look to keep quiet.
"Yeah, what a mess," Buff responded sympathetically. "Thankfully we ain't had disturbances down here, 'least not any more than normal." He laughed, then coughed and spat into the small bar sink. "Go ahead for today. But don't think it's permanent."
Han had been hoping that Buff might comment on the political situation that led to the violent riots on the surface, but simply securing them a place to stay for a little while was good enough. Especially since they were unlikely to run into Imperial adversaries…or so he hoped.
"Thank you," Leia said politely, remaining seated as she tucked the blaster surreptitiously into her waistband. She followed Han back through the hall and up to the little lounge, trying to keep from yawning. They'd been sleeping for less than an hour when Buff arrived.
She stretched out on one of the sofas, kicking off her boots and pulling the blanket, still slightly damp, over her body. "How long are you planning to have us stay here?" she asked sleepily.
Han tried lying down on the other couch, but found it hard to locate a comfortable spot. His feet dangled off the end, and if he brought his knees up he felt like he'd slip off the moment he drifted off. "I'm hoping we can figure out a way to get in while they're open today. If I can find someone who knows where Hipha is…"
"That's the ex-girl?" Leia inquired, a cheeky look in her half-mast eyes.
"We can see if she'll help us find a way to get in touch with the fleet or at least get a ticket off this miserable excuse for a planet."
"Fair enough." Leia curled her arms under her head, arranging herself carefully so as to avoid putting weight on the still-tender bruise on her forehead. "Goodnight, Han."
"It's actually late morning," he told her softly, but Leia had already fallen back asleep. Quietly, he knelt beside her. It was rare to see her rest so peacefully, but she was beyond exhausted. He stroked her hair before gently kissing her and creeping out of the room.
He hated to leave her in the still unfamiliar room, but she was armed and Buff didn't seem interested in bothering either of them. The man looked up as Han walked back into the bar.
"Thought you were sleeping," he remarked as Han headed for the door.
"My, uh…." They hadn't given Buff a description of their relationship, not that he'd asked. Han decided to play it safe…"Wife is sleeping. I just need to run out for a few minutes."
"Knock on the door three times when you want back in," Buff grumbled. "I don't unlock it until we open. Too much riff raff out there."
"Will do." Han stepped out the door and pulled it closed tightly behind him.
The morning air in the lower levels was entirely indistinguishable from the evening air, but for the increased foot traffic through the dank passageways. Han kept his hand on top of the credit coins in his pocket, knowing from experience how easy it was to lift them from even the most discerning marks. A pair of Chadra-Fans waddled by, bumping into him suspiciously, but he pushed them off with a knee and kept moving. He had errands to run.
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In a rare first for Luke, the Millennium Falcon was warmly welcomed into the Belnar City spaceport after sending an accurate identification code to the spaceport authorities.
"Guess our reputation precedes us," Lando commented as he and Chewbacca guided the ship downwards into their designated docking bay among the sleek line of buildings circling the perimeter of a glass and metal adorned port headquarters. "You been to Belnar before?"
Luke shook his head. "I've heard a lot about it though. Leia's had a few trips here and really likes it."
"They're good people," Lando agreed. "Not many offworlders here, but they're friendly. We should be able to get a ship and some good intelligence here without much trouble."
"I hope so," Chewbacca snapped. The Wookiee had been quiet for most of the journey, taking Artoo into the guts of the ship and having the droid help him fiddle with wires and connectors. Both men knew he was upset about Han's disappearance, but only Lando—who had a broader understanding of Wookiee culture—comprehended the depths of his guilt over his failure to protect his companion. Chewbacca had been dealt a lot of blows lately, including at Lando's albeit reluctant hand, and finding Han and Leia alive and well was the only cure. In the meantime, Chewie treated the Falcon as the closest surrogate, focusing on keeping her healthy until her pilot's return.
"Who's your friend here?" Luke asked as they reached the ground.
"Guy named Arthar Esenta," Lando began. "He moved here about ten standard years ago—has a repair shop here in Belnar City."
"I beg your pardon, Master Lando," Threepio broke in, "But would that be the same Arthar Esenta wanted by the Empire for sixteen counts of ship theft?"
"Probably," Lando admitted. "He has to get his parts from somewhere. I don't think he's ever stolen a ship from someone who didn't deserve it though."
"Can we trust him?" Luke asked, double checking that his lightsaber was hidden beneath his loose tunic.
"I'd trust him as much as I trust myself," Lando responded in a confident voice. Chewbacca snorted.
"I guess it's the best we've got right now," Luke sighed. "Let's get going. I don't want to waste any more time."
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Arthar Esenta was a tall, distinguished looking human with an aquiline profile and a well-coiffed head of thick silver hair. Older than Luke was expecting, he greeted Lando warmly as the three of them stepped into the surprisingly clean and elegant ship repair shop.
"Well, this certainly is pleasant," Threepio commented to no one in particular as he followed them in. Artoo spun around, taking a moment to admire a model of a single passenger ship's engine that was beautifully displayed with interpretive signs about its parts and functions. Being more accustomed to dealing with dingy, pieced-together snub fighter components, Artoo appreciated the logical attention to detail.
"Lando, it's been ages," Arthar gushed, his voice raised slightly in an imitation of the native Khil's melodious tones, clearly developed over his decade on Belnar. "What have you been up to, my dear boy?"
"Been serving with the Alliance to Restore the Republic," Lando responded proudly. Chewbacca rolled his eyes slightly—one real battle in and suddenly Lando thought he was General Dodonna.
"Lando! I'm so proud of you!" Arthar gave him a hearty handshake. "And I thought you were destined to become a King of Commerce."
"Well, my business did have some setbacks," Lando admitted, but Arthar wasn't listening. He ushered them all into a beautifully decorated back room, pressing cool glasses of local fruit juice into their hands as he gestured for them to sit.
"Tell me what brings you to our lovely city," Arthar asked. "And oh! How rude of me! Please introduce me to your companions."
"This is Luke Skywalker," Lando began, and Luke stood to shake hands. Arthar gaped.
"It is truly an honor," he said, taking Luke's hand in his own. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Thanks," Luke said, ducking down as the shy farm boy in him reared his head.
"And this is Chewbacca," Lando continued. Chewie nodded tersely, and Arthar opted to tone down his ebullience for the moment. "We're here to ask you a favor."
"For a hero of the Rebellion? Anything!" Arthar stood, walking around behind a large desk carved from some exotic wood. "What can I do for you?"
"We need a ship, and I also was wondering if you would be able to track down information on a Star Destroyer for us," Lando told him. "Our most recent information is that the ISD Chimaera was at the Kuati Shipyards for repair."
"There are several Star Destroyers there," Arthar confirmed. "I haven't been collecting information on which ones are still in orbit—and at least one is in dry dock—but I can find out. What sort of ship do you need?"
"Something that can get us past Imperial lines," Luke spoke up. "The one we have is too well known."
Arthar was silent for a moment. "Let me see what I can do," he said finally, "Can you come back in two hours?"
Lando nodded, reaching forward to shake Arthar's hand again. "Thank you. This means a lot." Luke nodded in agreement, and the small group got up and walked back out into the bright Belnar sunshine.
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"Where the slatta have you been?" Leia yelled as Han popped back into the small lounge that was serving as their temporary living space.
"Picking up a coupla things," he responded. "And since when do you cuss in Huttese?"
"You could have warned me you were leaving," she said, paying no mind to his question. "I woke up and had to ask Buff. And by the way, since when are we married?"
"Since today," he said with a grin. "And look-I bought you some wedding presents."
He handed her a bag. Giving him a doubtful look, she peeked inside, pulling out a few small packages and a large piece of printed flimsiplast. Confused, she flipped over the packages first, and then laughed when she realized what they contained.
"Toothbrushes! This is the best fake wedding present I've ever gotten."
"And," Han prompted. "Did you look at what else?"
Leia looked closer at the flimsi. "The Underworlder Daily?"
"It's a newspaper," Han explained. "An underground publication. They only sell it down here. Did you see the first story?"
She read the headline aloud. "Ruling Council declares indefinite martial law." Looking down to the main story, she continued, "The Imperial Ruling Council today declared that Imperial Center will remain under a state of martial law until further notice. The move comes a day after the deaths of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader were confirmed by Sate Pestage, the late emperor's chief advisor…." She took a deep breath. "Wow. So it's….wow. They're dead. Palpatine and Vader." She sank back onto the couch, trembling slightly.
"Are you all right?" Han asked, sitting beside her. "I mean…it's good news, right?"
"Of course it's good news!" she said sharply. "It's just that seeing it there in black and white….it seems so real. I just can't believe they're really gone forever."
They'd both assumed, based on the raging protests that had engulfed the Palace district on their arrival, that the Emperor was gone. Not that it wasn't reassuring to see a confirmation of Palpatine's demise, but it also wasn't a surprise. However, neither of them had known that Vader was on the Death Star as well. Where the Emperor had been an abstract enemy, reaching them only via his control over his minions and troops, Vader was a physical presence in their lives, his name sparking a more visceral fear.
Even before their desperate flight from Hoth, Han was intimately aware of Vader's effect on Leia. The unflappable princess, who would run into a volley of blaster fire to save a wounded Rebel, was reduced to a weeping, shuddering mess when she awoke from one of her all-too-common nightmares about being back in the Dark Lord's clutches. The moment that they were ambushed on Bespin was one of the lowest points in his life—not because he'd been betrayed by a friend, or because of what happened to him subsequently, but because he felt personally responsible for sending Leia right back into Vader's grasp.
And now he was dead.
The relief was so great when Han first read the news that he was nearly ill. A million threats still lurked in the galaxy, and any of them could be killed at any moment, but at least Vader was gone.
He turned to see tears pooling in Leia's eyes, and pulled her close. She sank into his embrace, ignoring the sharp pains in her battered ribs.
"He's dead," she whispered. "He's dead."
A moment later, she wiped her eyes and went on reading. Beneath the story about the council's actions was a rundown of Imperial atrocities across the galaxy.
"I can't believe this is all still happening," Leia said finally. "I thought once we got Palpatine, we'd be done. Victorious."
Han sighed. "The cleanup is going to take a long time. Even longer than scrubbing this dump down." Leia gave him a weak smile. "I imagine High Command is going to have a rough time figuring out who to go after next."
"Surely they'll come here to Coruscant…" Leia said…"Eventually."
"Planet's still pretty damn well armed," Han pointed out. "I assume we lost some ships at Endor: it's going to take a while to build up the troop strength to make a pass at Coruscant. That article seems to suggest that the military command structure here is pretty well intact."
Leia thought for a moment. "Unless someone takes out the Ruling Council."
Han gave her a skeptical look. "You aren't seriously suggesting…."
"Think about it! We're already on planet. That's usually the hardest step, right?"
"What exactly do you propose? Waltzing in with that lost-and-found blaster and opening fire?"
"No." Leia was annoyed that he wasn't taking her idea seriously. "We aren't going to do anything hasty. But there has to be a way to get into the Imperial Palace…."
A sharp knock on the door silenced her.
"Yes?" Han called. Buff's face peeked around the door.
"You all interested in making a few more creds? My bartender and my waitress didn't show up. Guess there have been some more lockdowns. They live up in the midlevels." He shook his head. "Glad we don't deal with that crap down here."
"Uh, sure," Han responded, glancing at Leia. She shrugged, nodding in assent. "Just show us what we need to do."