Author's Note: Again, sorry for the amount of script. I promise, the next chapter has a lot less!
Chapter Seventeen: A Chance To Relax
"No, I don't have a landing permit," Han said, exasperated, into the comlink for what seemed like the billionth time. "I'm trying to reach Lando Calrissian."
More fire came at us.
"Whoa! Wait a minute! Let me explain!" Han squawked.
"You will not deviate from you present course."
"Rather touchy, aren't they?" Threepio questioned airily. Imperials he wanted to surrender to, but being attacked by these people didn't faze him in the least. Strange droid.
"I thought you knew this person!" I snapped at Han.
Chewbacca barked, and Han glanced furtively at him.
"Well, that was a long time ago. I'm sure he's forgotten all about that."
I turned one of my famed Royal Glowers on Han.
The intercom piped up again. "Permission granted to land on Plateform Three-two-seven."
"Thank you," Han muttered back, turning the intercom off with an angry flick of his wrist. Chewie merely grunted.
Han turned to look at me, a pacifying expression on his face. "There's nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me."
I set my jaw. "Who's worried?"
"Oh," Threepio commented as we exited the ship, "no one to meet us."
I turned immediately to Han. "I don't like this," I said bluntly. This friend of his sounded for too sketchy for my taste . . . and this was saying quite a bit, considering that I had a long-term deal with Darth Vader . . . who presented himself as whole over the comm, even though I now knew better . . . and to be reminded of his condition . . . it was unsettling, to say the least.
"Well, what would you like?" Han retorted, just as tense as I was.
"They did let us land," Threepio reminded us optimistically.
"Look, don't worry," Han said, almost more to himself than to us, forcing himself to be calm even as his hand hovered over his blaster. "Everything's going to be fine. Trust me."
The door before us opened, and a group of people led by a sharply dressed, dark-skinned man about Han's age strode toward us. His expression was dark.
"See?" Han said to me. "My friend." Then he leaned over to Chewie and muttered, "Keep your eyes open, okay?"
I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
They stopped about ten feet away from us, and Han and the leader – the infamous Lando Calrissian, apparently – eyed each other warily, as if trying to judge if the other was going to shoot.
Then Lando spoke. His words were not comforting. "Why you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler! You've got a lot of guts coming here, after what you pulled."
Han's face was deceptively innocent. Me? he mouthed.
Lando began to move again, threatening Han with his body language. My hand inched toward my blaster, just in case.
Jumpy as I was, I nearly shot the man when he suddenly threw his arms around Han in a hug and laughed. Han just stood there, shocked.
"How you doing, you old pirate?" Lando exclaimed jovially. "So good to see you! I never thought I'd catch up with you again! Where've you been?"
Han finally got his act together and greeted the other man with a smile and chuckle.
"Well, he seems very friendly," Threepio observed cheerfully, moving toward them.
Reluctantly, I pushed off from my post beside the ship. "Yes," I muttered skeptically, not liking this man for a reason I couldn't name. "Very friendly."
"So what are you doing here?" Lando asked as he urged us toward the door he had just come through.
Han glanced back at the Falcon. "Ah . . . Repairs. Thought you could help me out."
Lando's eyebrows shot up. "What have you done to my ship?"
Han reared back, insulted. "Your ship!? Hey, remember you lost her to me, fair and square!"
Beside me, Chewie growled. Lando looked over at us. His eyes widened when he saw me. I wanted to poke them out.
"Hello. What have we here?" he breathed, reaching out to take my hand. "I'm Lando Calrissian, the administrator of this facility. And who might you be?"
"Leia," I told him simply, charmed despite my distrust of him.
"Welcome, Leia," he replied, saying my name with reverence as he raised my hand to his lips.
Han took my hand from him. "Alright, alright, you old smoothie," he joked with something resembling a sneer. Han pulled me close, tucking me under his arm and away from Lando. I grinned inwardly as my heart did somersaults of joy and the butterflies in my stomach began to flutter with a vengeance.
Behind us, Threepio tried to introduce himself, only to be summarily ignored. "Well, really!" he muttered indignantly, scurrying after us.
"What's wrong with the Falcon?" Lando asked Han.
"Hyperdrive."
"I'll get my people to look at it."
"Good."
Lando turned to me, probably figuring that he could get more of a conversation out of me than he was getting out of Han. "You know, that ship saved my life quite few times. She's the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy."
Key words being 'hunk of junk,' I thought, but didn't voice.
We were in the city now, with workers moving all around us, giving us curious glances as they passed. Han finally broke his silence.
"How's the gas mine? Is it paying off for you?"
Lando turned introspective as he began to talk about his operations. "Oh, not as well as I'd like. We're a small outpost and not very self-sufficient. And I've had supply problems of every kind, and I've had labour difficulties – what's so funny?" he asked as Han began to snicker.
"You," Han said simply. "Listen to you – you sound like a businessman, a respectable leader. Who'd have thought, huh?"
Lando stared at him for a moment, then began to grin himself. "You know, seeing you sure brings back a few things."
"Yeah," Han agreed, puffing up with self-importance.
Lando shook his head, still grinning. "Yeah, I'm respectable these days. It's the price you pay for being successful."
Both men laughed. I couldn't see what was so funny.
We kept moving through, and were shown directly to a large penthouse suite. I was thankful. My limbs were stiff with exhaustion.
"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, to take you to lunch," Lando said – and was it just me, or did I see a flicker of something in his eyes? "You can see more of the place then. I just figured you'd want a real bed and bath first." He winked at me, and there was no trace of whatever I saw before.
"Thank you for your hospitality," I said, and shut the door in his face.
Han came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "He is our host," he reminded me. "Would it hurt to be a little nicer? I'd like to stick around for a couple of days, at least, before you get us kicked out."
I huffed. "His definition of nicer is not my definition."
Han chuckled, face buried in my hair. The vibrations from his chest moved through my shoulders and upper back. "Yeah, he is kinda . . . overt, isn't he?"
I snorted. "That's one way of putting it."
His face crept around my head to nuzzle against my cheek. "So . . . now that we're all alone . . . what do you want to do?"
I glanced around; we were alone. I could hear Chewie moving in the distance, though, so I assumed he was merely in another part of the suite. And Threepio . . . well, I wasn't sure about Threepio, but it was hard to wonder about the prissy droid when Han was holding me like this . . .
I raised a hand and patted his cheek, then slid out of his embrace. " I want to have a shower," I said as I headed for the bathroom. "A nice, long, hot shower."
His eyes lit up. "I can help you with that," he said eagerly, trotting after me like a puppy.
He was too late. I closed the bathroom door and locked it behind me, then leaned against it, grinning like a fool.
"Leia?" he called mournfully though the door.
"See you in a couple hours, Han," I called back sweetly.
"A couple hours?!" he yelped. "Are planning to leave any hot water for me?"
I laughed outright at that. "No," I replied, and began preparing of a long, relaxing soak.
I watched the waterfall in the distance, trying to suppress a grin. Anakin was sitting beside me, looking expectant. I glanced down at the grass near my hand and reached out to brush my fingers through the tiny white flowers. "I don't know . . ." I murmured coyly, not entirely sure I should be talking to him about this.
He gave me a look, a half-smile on his face. "Sure you do. You just don't want to tall me."
I raised my brows at him. "Are you going to use one of your Jedi mind tricks on me?"
His smile grew. "They only work on the weak-minded. You, milady, are anything but weak-minded."
I smiled back in spite of myself, my resolve evaporating. "Alright . . . his name was Palo. I was twelve. We were both in the Legislative Youth Program. He was a few years older than I . . ." My smile turned into a mischievous grin. ". . . very cute . . . dark curly hair . . . dreamy eyes . . ."
He wasn't smiling quite so broadly now, and I felt a flash of triumph. "Alright, alright, I get the picture . . . what happened to him?"
I shrugged. "I went on to become Queen. He went on to become an artist."
Anakin smirked. "Maybe he was the smart one."
I shook my head in wonder at him. "You really don't like politicians, do you?"
"I like two or three, but I'm not really sure about one of them." He winked quickly at me, then shrugged and looked away. "I don't think the system works."
I sat up. This was the first time he'd mentioned any such dissatisfaction to me, and frankly, I was shocked. "How would you have it work?" I queried, wondering if this was just a ploy to get my attention. If it was, it wasn't needed. He already had my mind in tangles.
He looked back at me, catching and holding my eyes, and I saw the truth in them. He wasn't making this up to get my attention. "We need a system where the politicians sit down and discuss the problems, agree what's in the best interests of all the people, and then do it."
I blinked. "That's exactly what we do, Ani. The trouble is that people don't always agree. In fact, they hardly ever do."
"Then they should be made to," he insisted.
"By whom?" I pressed, wondering how I could get him to see that his logic was flawed.. "Who's going to make them?"
He averted his eyes again. "I don't know. Someone."
I frowned. "You?"
He rolled his eyes but still wouldn't look at me. "Of course not me."
I sat back, studying him. "But someone."
He finally raised his head to look at me. "Someone wise."
I shook my head, unable to agree with him. "That sounds an awful lot like a dictatorship to me."
"Well, if it works . . ."
And then I noticed it. The small twitch at the corner of his mouth that told me he was holding in a smirk.
My jaw dropped in outrage, and Anakin, realizing he'd been found out, let his grin bloom.
My stomach flipped. I ignored it.
"You're making fun of me!" I accused him hotly.
"Oh, no," he insisted, trying to smother the smile again. "I'd be much too frightened to tease a Senator."
I threw a piece of fruit at him. "You're so bad!"
He caught the fruit. I threw more. He caught those, too.
Damn Jedi reflexes.
"You're always so serious," he told me. "Always carrying the weight of the universe on your shoulders."
And then, to my utter amazement, he started to juggle the fruit.
I laughed in delight and threw more over to him. The ninth one did him in, and all the fruit fell around him. I laughed even harder, and he began to chuckle, too.
Then he spied a shaak, and his eyes lit up. Before I could say anything, he was on his feet and moving toward it, circling around before approaching it so that the animal wouldn't see him. Then he jumped on it's back. I clapped a hand to my mouth, half-worried but tempted to giggle at his audacity.
And then the shaak bucked him off.
I gave a small shriek, and held still, waiting for him to move.
He didn't.
"Anakin . . . !" I yelled at him, beginning to panic. I leaped to my feet and rushed to his side.
He was lying face down. I turned him over –
And met his laughing gaze squarely.
I squealed in fury and made to smack him on the chest, but he grabbed my wrist in mid-air. I pulled free and tried again, but he caught me that time, too. And now he wouldn't let go.
I my attempts to get free, I rolled away from him, but he followed, so now he was on top of me. I kept fighting, and we rolled again, and again, and again. Finally, we settled down, me on top, my legs falling on either side of his hips –
– and then I made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
His brilliant blue eyes, darkening with lust as he tried to pull me closer, tried to kiss me as I felt him grow hard against my thigh . . .
With a strength that surprised us both, I tore free from his grasp and scrambled away, still sitting on the grass, my dress tucked around my legs and my back turned to him as he stood up and discreetly adjusted his trousers. Then he moved around in front of me and offered me his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. As soon as I was on my feet, I dropped it as if it burned my skin.
When I can finally bear to meet his eyes again, I found no traces of embarrassment in them, and, though I wondered how he could come out of a situation like that with such an easy manner, I wasn't going to question it.
"Ready to go home?" he asked quietly.
I nodded. "Yes."
With a courtly bow, he offered me his arm and we walked back toward home.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that his comments about politics hadn't been entirely teasing . . . and I couldn't forget the feel of him against my body.
"There is still good in him."
Those words rang in my head long after I had woken up, just as disturbed by Anakin's statements as Padme Amidala had been.Uneasily, I thought back to my earlier notion the Vader was actually Anakin Skywalker. I had forced my self to reject it back then; now it was becoming harder to do so.
I paced the main room of the suite, waiting for Han to come back from wherever he and Chewie had gone. And why were all the steamy dreams coming now, of all times, when I had ample opportunities to be alone with Han? Having such romance in my dreams was making me ache for one in real life, and damn if I was going to give into the pirate that easily!
Speaking of the devil . . .
"The ship is almost finished," Han told me, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "Two or three more things and we're in great shape."
I tried to smile. I had managed to drop Vader's hint about mechanics from the Clone Wars, but I wasn't sure if Han had gotten the message. "The sooner the better," I said forcefully, the attempt at a smile dropping from my lips. "Something's wrong here. No one has seen, heard, or knows anything about Threepio, and he's been gone too long to have gotten lost."
Han slipped his arms around me, pulling me close until I was pressed against him from ribs to knee. "Relax. I'll talk to Lando and see what I can find out."
I pulled away and sat down."I don't trust Lando," I hissed in reminder.
Han sat beside me. "Well I don't trust him either – but he is my friend." I glowered at him, wondering how the words friend and distrust could possibly fit into the same sentence. "Besides, we'll be gone soon."
My glare faded, and I searched his face, not sure what I was looking for. "Then you're as good as gone, aren't you?" I replied.
He didn't say anything.
Suddenly, the door slid open to reveal Chewie, who had a box full of . . . Threepio?!
"What happened?" I gasped in shock.
Chewie gave a long, convoluted explanation. I looked to Han for a translation.
"Found him in a junk pile?" Han repeated.
I looked at Chewie's mournful expression. Despite his complaints, I realized that the Wookiee must have developed quite a fondness for Threepio.
"Oh, what a mess," I sighed. "Chewie, do you think you can repair him?"
Chewie studied what was left of Threepio dejectedly, then turned back to me and gave a sad shrug.
"Lando's got people who can fix him," Han piped up.
I gritted my teeth. If he didn't shut up about Lando . . .
"No thanks," I replied waspishly.
The door slid open again at that moment, revealing Mr. Administrator-of-this-Facility himself.
"I'm sorry," he said with a curious look. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Not really," I said coolly.
He didn't take the hint. "You look absolutely beautiful," he complimented me with a smile. "You truly belong here with us among the clouds."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "Thank you," I replied stiffly.
"Will you join me for a little refreshment?" he asked cordially, his gaze never leaving me.
I looked back at Han, who was looking at Lando with suspicion. For a moment, I was happy that he finally shred my opinion of the man, but then I realized that he just didn't like Lando looking at me, and the feeling faded.
Chewie barked hopefully.
Lando finally glanced at Han and Chewie. "Everyone's invited, of course," he added. Then he turned back to me and offered his arm.
Smiling tightly, I took it – it would have been far too rude not to.
Suddnely, Lando's tilted his head. "Having trouble with your droid?" he asked.
I looked at Han in a panic.
"No," Han told him calmly – a little too calmly, I thought. "No problem. Why?"
He took my free hand and pulled it through his arm, effectively stealing me away from Lando. We sailed through the door, giving our gracious host no choice but to follow.
"Okay," he mumbled disbelievingly as he trotted after us, shrugging. After a moment, he said, "Uh . . . this way."
I looked over my shoulder at him and frowned. There was definitely a strange emotion in his eyes that I didn't like.
"But the dining hall is this way," Han objected obliviously. "I saw it."
Lando swallowed. "Well, yeah, but . . . there's another one this way . . . smaller and a little more . . . private."
I opened my mouth to decline, but Han got his open first. "Whatever," he replied, and guided my around to follow Lando.
I glared daggers at him, and he actually had the audacity to look confused. I could have shot him.
"So,' Han said, turning to Lando to avoid my expression, "what kind of taxes does the Empire make you shell out?"
Lando gave a half-smile. "None, actually."
My eyebrows shot up, as did Han's.
"But Tibanna gas carries insane taxes," Han pointed out. "You should get a discount, becasue you've just got a tiny place here –"
"So you see," Lando interrupted, looking very satisfied with himself, "since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the . . . uh . . . jurisdiction of the Empire."
I took a breath and fought the urge to roll my eyes. This respectable businessman wasn't telling the government what he was up to. Brilliant . . . not.
"So you're a part of the Mining Guild, then?" I asked pointedly, already knowing what the answer would be.
"No, not actually. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed . . . which is advantageous for everybody, since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."
The Alliance could definitely use a place like this, but it was foolhardy on Calrissian's part not to be registered with either the Empire or the Guild. We usually bought from people who were registered but willing to sell under the table – it was safer that way. We wouldn't be found out unless someone took a rather close look at the business's books. At a place like this, which was basically illegal, the moment they were investigated, we were in deep trouble.
We turned a corner. "Aren't you afraid the Empire's going to find out about this little operation and shut you down?" Han asked, voicing my thoughts.
Lando put on a grave face. "That's always been a danger looming like a shadow over everything we've built here. But things have developed that will insure security. I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever."
Before I had time to process that statement, Lando opened the door before us to reveal Darth Vader.
I clenched my jaw. Apparently I wasn't the only one around here making deals with the devil.
