Whistling as though he hadn't a care in the galaxy, Han strolled off towards the communal men's 'fresher room. The hallway was empty and he slipped into the room fully ready to do his business if he found he wasn't alone. But a quick check of the stalls and showers showed the 'fresher was deserted, and Han quickly locked the door, hoping no one would feel the call of nature while he tried to locate Leia.
They had been issued comlinks as part of their work, and warned multiple times to only use them for official purposes. Han had trouble imagining what a kitchen staffer and a maintenance man would possibly need comlinks for, but he wasn't one to look a gift dewback in the mouth. Of course, they both presumed that any communications might be monitored, but it was still a comfort to have some way to get in touch with each other.
Punching in Leia's code, with which he'd impressed her by memorizing minutes after they were issued the devices, Han held his breath. He was annoyed when she insisted on going out, convinced that she was subconsciously more interested in getting a taste of normal female friendship-beyond her rare rendezvous with Winter-than actually digging for information. Now he was starting to worry that he had been right to be concerned.
Relax, he told himself sternly as he waited for her to respond. She's not due back yet, and there wasn't any evidence that someone had done anything more than accidentally pop open their bedroom door. But he wasn't someone to ignore his instincts, and his instincts told him that there was trouble brewing. As the comlink continued to beep without an answer, Han muttered, "I have a bad feeling about this."
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Stonefaced, Leia stared up at her new friends on the stage as Wa-Janar slid into the booth next to her. Two of his interchangeable toughs stood on either of the U-shaped table, blocking her exits. His hand crept over to rest on her thigh. Hardly moving her upper body, Leia shoved him off, digging a sharp nail into the back of his hand.
Wa-Janar only chuckled, leaning over and breathing into her ear, "You owe me a new man too. Do you have any idea how long it takes to train good bodyguards?"
"Clearly not that good," Leia responded flatly. "A good bodyguard wouldn't let himself get beat up by a girl."
He chuckled dryly at her comment. "That's true. But you aren't just any girl….princess."
She blinked, not allowing any reaction at his confirmation of her identity. On stage, Alba had resisted the emcee's efforts to get her to relinquish the microphone and was launching into another song. "What do you want?"
Smiling, Wa-Janar grabbed her hand tightly again. This time, Leia allowed him to hold on, pretending to struggle only enough to keep him away from the small blaster tucked into her waistband. "We'll start with a dance. I'm sure I'll have some ideas from there."
"All right," Leia said abruptly. She yanked Wa-Janar towards edge of the booth. "Let's dance."
Wrinkling his brow, Wa-Janar laughed again. "You mistake my meaning…"
"What's the matter, big guy?" she taunted, running into one of the toughs as she edged out of the booth. "You worried you can't handle me?" She reached up to push gently against the mountain sized man blocking her exit. "'Scuse us."
"I am not sure what your game is, princess…" Wa-Janar began as the bodyguard continued to block her path.
Trying another tactic, Leia turned back to him with pursed lips. "I bet you'll want to find out though." She leaned over, trying not to gag as she gave him a tiny glimpse down her shirt. "Come on, let's dance."
As Leia had learned from her early teen years, logic tended to fly out the window when one dealt with men in a particular manner. Wa-Janar was no different, and her obviously fake come-ons worked like a dream. It never failed to amaze her how easy it could be sometimes to manipulate men…for example, she thought wryly, by kissing Luke to get at Han. Amazing how that worked.
"We'll dance then," Wa-Janar announced, sending the bodyguard back with a gesture. He kept a tight grip on Leia, not trusting her that much, and led her to the dance floor. "I recommend you not try anything funny."
Alba and the rest of the women continued to warble, oblivious to Leia's plight. She held her tongue and focused on stiffening her arms enough to keep Wa-Janar from pressing his body against her: partly because the idea nauseated her, and partly because she didn't want him to discover either the blaster or the comlink she had hidden in her clothes. A comlink that she prayed would start buzzing any moment.
The emcee finally convinced the group of singers to leave the stage with the promise of free drinks at the bar, and a pair of professionals took over. Corellian music was distinctive—twangy and upbeat with themes ranging from women to fighting to drinking to fighting and drinking with women. Growing up, it had never been to Leia's taste, but she'd started to find a comfortable familiarity in the tunes that Han blasted in an attempt to annoy her on the Falcon. Had she not been frantically trying to run through plans for escape from a minor crime lord intent on blackmailing her into indentured servitude, she might have even enjoyed the band.
"I imagine you never thought I'd figure out exactly who you were," Wa-Janar said smugly, speaking just loudly enough so she could hear him over the music.
"I was shocked that it took you so long," she retorted. "You must not have a lot of time for holonews."
He ignored her jab. "I'd been intending to put a bounty out for whomever had killed my man," he continued, "But when I found the picture of you from our security camera that I wanted to use, I found that you looked remarkably familiar. It didn't take long after that."
"And by that you mean that the counter staff at the copy shop you visited to print up posters recognized me?" Leia asked with a smirk. She wasn't expecting the look of fury that crossed Wa-Janar's face. "I was just teasing. You mean that's what really happened?"
Moving his hands to her shoulders, Wa-Janar squeezed tightly, eliciting a tiny yelp of pain from the princess. "I recommend you reconsider your situation. The only reason I didn't put a price on your head was because I couldn't afford to compete with the Empire. I may decide that I'm better off with a million credits instead of a new dancing girl."
Glancing over his shoulder, Leia could see more patrons pouring into the room, filling the path between her and the door. Her companions were nowhere to be seen, lured away by the prospect of more drinks. Another song started, and she began to weigh the merits of simply trying her luck at decking him and running. Then, she felt a vibration. Her comlink was buzzing.
The band was blasting an old Corellian standard, and Wa-Janar took Leia's sudden silence for acquiescence. He pulled her into towards him, giving her a split second opportunity to activate her comlink.
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Han let out a long breath as he heard the telltale click of a response on the other end of the comlink. "Kim?" he whispered, not wanting any passersby in the hall to hear him. "You there?"
He was rewarded with a blast of sound in his ear that coalesced into a familiar melody. It was slightly muffled, but he could hear clearly enough to know that where ever Leia was, a live band was playing Corellian music. He strained to hear more as the song came to an end.
"Thank y'all for coming tonight," a voice said, tinny with distance and amplification. "We love playing this sector, and damnit if the Coronet ain't the best kriffin' spot for a drink on Imperial Center."
The Coronet. Han had heard some of the guys—two of whom were Corellian by birth-in the machine shop talking about the Corellian bar, and he'd made up an excuse to ask for the address. Good Corellian places were few and far between off his homeworld, and he wanted to keep the info about a place for a good ale and nerf burger in his back pocket in case he and Leia actually survived this little misadventure. It was in the Palace district, not far away, and before he could even holler at the person who was suddenly hammering at the locked 'fresher door, demanding to be let in, he was off. He'd figure out a plan on the way.
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Luke walked purposefully ahead of his companions towards the docking area as the flow of Imperial troops dwindled. The bulk of the personnel taking shore leave on this part of the orbital station must have already reported for duty—an impression mobilization even for the Millennium Falcon. Only a few stragglers, some of them missing limbs, continued to pass by.
"Sir!" Luke looked up, sensing that the salutation had been directed at him. Indeed, Daze, the Imperial soldier who'd been so unknowingly helpful in getting him information on Han and Leia's last known whereabouts, was standing at attention and watching as Luke made his way down the corridor. "Commander Albi!"
"What can I do for you, soldier?" Luke asked, leaning in close. "Keep in mind that I'm here on a semi-covert mission."
Daze reddened slightly. "Yessir. My apologies. We got an order that some of the command staff were out of reach when the order to report came through, and I assumed you might be one of them."
"Not a problem, soldier. What's this about command staff being out of reach?" Luke's curiosity was piqued enough that he was willing to delay their retreat…for the moment, at least.
"I don't have any details, sir. We were just ordered to round up anyone who didn't respond to the all hands hail."
"Including intelligence officers?"
"I don't know, sir," Daze told him, looking over his shoulder. "I suppose not."
Luke could sense Lando, Chewbacca, and the two droids watching him quizzically, and thanked the Force that Daze hadn't yet figured out that the odd looking group was part of his entourage. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and focusing on letting the warm energy flow around him, guiding his words and actions.
"I guess I had better report with you then, soldier," he said, the words out of his mouth before he hardly even realized what happened. He turned to Chewie and gave a nearly imperceptible nod in the direction of their borrowed ship, hoping his friend would understand his meaning. Go.
Without another word, Luke turned and followed Daze, leaving his friends gaping behind him.
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After a few more songs, Wa-Janar had gripped Leia around the arm and led her back to the booth. He held her close enough to his body to disguise the strength of his hold on her, even pausing to greet a few tables full of customers as he escorted his captive into the main part of the restaurant. She let her free arm bump her blaster a few times, reassuring herself that it was still there as she waited for a good opportunity.
Allowing her eyes to wander towards the door, she wondered whether Han had been able to glean any information from the open comlink when he contacted her. She had no doubt the call was from him, and hoped the raucous music was enough to give him a clue as to her whereabouts. Of course, as far as she knew, he had no reason to think she was in particular danger. In fact, she realized despairingly, there was a decent chance he had assumed that she'd merely accidentally activated her comlink with her rear end while tumbling around at the bar. He was probably planning to tease her about it when she got back to their room tonight.
Glumly, she resigned herself to having to shoot her way out of this mess, either in the middle of the crowded bar (bad) or while isolated in some godsforsaken spot with Wa-Janar and his cronies (worse). She looked up to evaluate the size of her adversaries, pondering whether she'd be able to take them out quietly enough to avoid any uncomfortable questions from Alba and her friends when they sobered up.
Just then, her attention was drawn to the bar lining the side of the room. A loud giggle echoed over the music, followed by a familiar—albeit alcohol-soaked voice—blurting out, "holy hells, you are HOT."
Distracted from her own dire straights, Leia glanced over to see which unlucky soul had fallen into Alba's inebriated attentions. The man turned around, clearly trying to find a way to detach himself from his new admirer, and caught Leia's eye. It was Han.
He flashed a grin, which faded into a frown a nanosecond later when he noticed the two men standing guard at either end of Leia's booth. It didn't take long for him to search around the room and locate Wa-Janar, who stepped away to attend to some host duties while Leia seethed under the watchful eyes of her guards. She nodded slightly to let him know she was unharmed—for the moment—and then braced herself for action. This was Han Solo she was dealing with. He was about to do something bold, and stupid. She was only left to wonder exactly what.
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He'd come in fully ready for a fight with Imps. The bar was authentically Corellian, right down to the barely controlled crowds, but on Coruscant anything was possible. He had sidled up to the bar preparing for an ambush, but the attack that came was beyond anything he expected.
"Helllooooo," a female voice, attempting to be sultry but coming off as merely drunk, said as a pair of hands wrapped around his waist. "You looking for somebody to spend a little free time with?"
"Sorry, lady," Han said, removing the pretty blonde's hands before they made their way into more intimate territory. "You're not my type. I prefer short brunettes."
"I can…" she paused to hiccup, "Dye my hair. If that's what you really want."
"You can do better," he assured her, trying to push her away without knocking her over. "I'm lookin' for somebody."
Wrong line. "Somebody's right here." She pressed towards him, aiming her breasts right for his midsection.
Deftly stepping away, Han turned towards the woman's two friends, who were watching and laughing at their companion's antics. "Ladies, I think your friend has had a few too many. Better take her home before she gets into trouble."
The blonde pitched herself at Han. "No trouble. Holy hells, you are HOT!"
In desperation, Han ducked away again, his eyes scanning the room. He felt someone watching him carefully, and peered at a booth partly hidden in the shadows in the center of the room. Leia!
A moment later, his heart sank. She was flanked by two enormous men dressed all in black. They were devastatingly familiar. A quick glance over towards the pulsing crowd confirmed his suspicions. They had walked right into Wa-Janar's hand.
Leia looked okay at the moment, but that didn't mean she would stay that way. Glancing around, Han assessed his situation. He wasn't armed, so he couldn't go in guns blazing. But maybe he could stage a diversion….
A slick looking guy who, unfortunately for him, resembled a rival smuggler that Han detested from his years working for Jabba was chattering about his recent feminine conquests to two equally slimy companions near the bar. Han decided he probably deserved what was about to happen next.
Subtly, he grabbed the drunken blonde woman's arm and guided her towards Slick, giving her a quick shove at the last minute that sent her sprawling into the man's arms. As he expected, Slick saw this turn of events as a sign from the gods and immediately began feeling up his new lady friend.
Han waited two beats, then strode up to the little group, fists clenched.
"What the kriff are you doin' to my girl?" he yelled, landing a punch that accelerated Slick into a crowd that looked like they just got off working the night shift at the Coruscant Facility for the Criminally Insane.
The bar advertised itself as an authentic Corellian experience. A few moments later, that claim proved itself to be true as bottles were smashed, jackets were removed, and the crowd erupted into a good old fashioned Corellian style bar brawl.
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Leia knew what was coming from the moment she saw Han grab Alba and shove her into the equally inebriated men. Grabbing her blaster, she slid feet first under the table as the first hollers of rage rang out from the patrons near the bar, firing a few painful shots into the feet of the two bodyguards as she slipped away towards Han. The room was packed, and for a moment she lost sight of him. Then he appeared out of the mess of beings and grabbed her hand, tugging her into the melee.
"What are you doing? We have to get out of here!" she shouted, ducking as a portion of a bar stool went flying perilously close to her head.
"He's gonna have people looking for you at the front door," Han shouted back. "C'mon, I know another way."
"What about the women I came with?" Leia asked. "We can't just leave them!"
Frustrated, Han turned around to face her, elbowing someone in the face as they flew towards him to throw an indiscriminate punch. "If we wait to find them, Wa-Janar is going to find you. We have to get back to the Palace. They'll be fine." He continued to pull her forward, ramming himself against the seething mass of bodies.
Sighing, Leia followed. They would be likely be fine, she knew, especially since they were so dead drunk that they'd probably just pass out and wait for security forces to clear out the fight. But the brawl never would have started but for her, and she felt guilty for simply abandoning them.
Without warning, another hand reached out and gripped her free arm. Her forward momentum nearly sent her falling to the floor. Heading forward, Han momentarily lost his hold on her. In the seconds it took him to fight his way back to Leia's side, he saw her struggling to free herself yet again from Wa-Janar.
"I don't think so, princess," he began, reaching out to pull her towards his body. But Leia was ready for him this time. Her blaster still in hand, she swung it around, smacking him across the face and letting the metal smash into his nose. He cried out, and she brought up her knee into his groin. He dropped to the floor with a moan. She aimed the blaster, planning to fire, when she saw several of his bodyguards advancing on their position.
"Let's get the hell out of here," she said to Han, urging him forward. Needing no other motivation, he lead them out the back into the cool of the night air.