Yavin, 9 ABY
"Director Solo," General Madine acknowledged gravely through the holonet.
Han leaned back into the captain's chair, and smiled in return, saying, "Good to see you, General. You got my message?"
"Yes, I did, thank you. I have passed the message along to Analysis, and they will begin cataloguing the evidence," General Madine reported.
"Good to hear," Han stated before adding, "What's your take?"
"Concerning," General Madine said, and Han noticed his superior's preoccupation. Despite living through a decade of war, Madine still maintained great vitality and vigor, but it was hard for Han not to notice how tired he seemed.
"Yes. And?" Han asked expectantly.
"And, it comes at a pretty bad time, Solo," Madine said, his focus returning. With his focus came a sequestered aggravation, and Han tensed as Madine continued. "Our primary directive at the moment is not to go digging for data on ex-Imperial remnants. After what happened on Pasaana, I shouldn't have to remind you what the directive actually is."
"Death troopers? Flame troopers? Next-gen TIE fighters? Did that look like a remnant to you?" Han asked, struggling to mask his indignation.
"No, it did not," Madine said. "But I'm also looking at tens of thousands of Pasanaans trafficked through the Outer Rim into sex trades and slavery. I'm looking at Black Sun terrorizing people along the margins of our practical jurisdictions. Add your evidence to a growing list of very valid concerns."
"But we can at least spare a crew to ascertain the damage, right?" Han asked.
Madine sighed, then said, "I get it, Han. I watched the footage five times. I got the same pit in my stomach I'm sure you have right now. And since we've always been frank – from Corellian to Corellian – the administration isn't looking to stir things up any more than they already are."
"Wait, are you telling me Mon Mothma is going to ignore this out of political convenience?" Han asked, his hold on his indignation cracking.
"Yes, Han, I am telling you that," Madine said, his face set in a grimace. "I don't like it either. I also don't like the prospect of giving the opposition something else to rage about. If – I mean, when – we win the re-election, we will send a crew over to Nevarro."
"By that time, the evidence will have been dumped into a lava pit," Han objected.
"I'm sure the witnesses won't also be dumped into a lava pit," Madine countered.
"Assuming – one, that any witnesses remain, and two, that anybody is willing to talk. Nevarro's a hub for bounty hunters and scumbags. If we don't get our eyes on this, it vanishes like a snowball on Tatooine," Han urged.
"You're welcome to put out word to any contacts you have and collect whatever evidence you can find – from a distance. In the meantime, I want you reaching out to every contact you have to get a read on what Black Sun and Crymorrah is doing. Might also be good to check in on your contacts with the Hutts. Something gives me the sense that there's a five-way dejarik game going on, and Rotta the Hutt's working every angle," Madine explained.
"Yeah," Han grunted irritably.
"Yeah, General," Madine corrected.
Han rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, General."
"I know, Han. You're not the only who wants to go back to doing your job rather than trying to save it," Madine said.
"As if the two were mutually exclusive," Han retorted.
"Careful, Han," Madine warned, and Han had a sense of the man's irritation. "Focus. Black Sun. Crymorrah. Rotta the Hutt," Madine added brusquely before the feed cut out.
Han killed the feed and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. A flock of exotic birds drifted overhead as rain began to patter against the Falcon's cockpit. An inquisitive rumble echoed from the galley, and Han turned, calling out, "Yeah, Chewie. He took it exactly how you said he would."
Chewie rumbled back derisively, to which Han retorted, "You know damn well that's the same as telling me 'I told you so.'" He got up from the chair and walked into the galley where Chewie poked his head out of the maintenance bay, welding goggles over his face. "Anyway, when you're done breaking my balls, maybe you'd like to tell me what condition the motivators are in?"
Chewie grunted irritably, and Han asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Chewie retorted, and Han said, "No. I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but we are not spending a single credit on Kuati parts."
Han turned to storm out of the galley, and Chewie rumbled after him. Han called over his shoulder, "I'm going to set up a committee meeting, that's what."
Han stalked down the boarding ramp and out into the steamy, thick air of the jungle. He walked across the landing platforms and glanced at Luke's old X-wing, which sat dormant and partially covered in tarps. He strode toward the temple, and noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched as Ben and Kira chased each other around the eves of the jungle. Winter watched the two children, occasionally chiding them if they drifted out of sight, and Han felt a mix of relief and admiration at Winter's ability to keep track of two precocious, Force-sensitive children. Ben laughed gleefully, blissfully unaware that anything was wrong in the galaxy, and Han felt a twinge of fear knowing that, one day, Ben would have to face the fact that even a victorious, democratic, liberated galaxy was – at best – a nest of problems without solutions.
Han turned away from the children and noticed Leia walking toward him, a warm smile stretched across her face. Han paused, feeling his own smile emerge despite his aggravation, but as she neared, her smile faltered, and a frown blossomed in its place.
"What is it?" Leia asked.
"Madine," Han grunted, waving at the Falcon.
"What did he say this time?" Leia asked sympathetically.
Han sighed, reluctant to share what he knew, but aware that it would take Leia very little to deduce what was troubling him. He suppressed a twinge of annoyance that her perception left him unable to hide his cards when he wanted them to stay hidden. "A source just sent me a report out of Nevarro. Apparently, a Mandalorian and a few others had a major skirmish against a large, well-organized, and apparently well-funded Imperial Force. Video evidence showed flame troopers, death troopers, and a downed next-gen TIE fighter."
"I see," Leia said in mild alarm. "And what did Madine say."
"Mind your own business and keep your eyes on the crime syndicates," Han grunted.
Leia searched his face, then asked, "Is that what's bothering you?"
"Not just that. Madine's shelving it out of political convenience," Han said.
"Madine? Or his superiors." Leia clarified.
"Does it matter?" Han growled irritably.
"I'm guessing Mon Mothma's advisors are mandating a tight focus on crime syndicates, given the polling," Leia said, her voice adopting a more soothing tone as she sought to provide an explanation.
"Great," Han retorted. "When we're fighting the Empire again because we ignored the signs, I'm sure everybody will be relieved to know it was for political convenience."
"Han," Leia snapped. "You know full well how unfair that is."
"Do I?" Han challenged.
"First of all, an Imperial cell on the Outer Rim is not evidence of the Empire returning. You're blowing this out of proportion," Leia said, and Han saw some of her old determination and fierceness breaking through her practiced Jedi calm. Somehow, her anger calmed him more than her serenity.
"I know. I'm sorry," Han said, his ire settling. "I hear a lot of chatter, and there's a fair amount of anecdotal stuff going on that's beyond the syndicate war. Stuff I can't explain. Dots I can't connect. I'm not doing enough, and I have a bad feeling about it."
"Not doing enough?" Leia asked soothingly. "You're not taking what Brasaar said about you personally, are you?"
"He only raked me over the coals in front of the entire galaxy. What's to take personal?" Han asked.
"It wasn't fair," Leia soothed. "You've done an incredible job, and the people who count all know it. Don't let somebody like Brasaar get inside your head."
"And if I sit idly by while evidence of a potentially significant Imperial operation gets swept away into the Nevarro lava fields?" Han asked.
"Potentially is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence," Leia countered.
Han glanced at Ben and Kira playing in an attempt to stifle his frustration. The sight of Ben running gleefully stirred his frustration further. Leia noticed the emotion playing out in his face, and she asked, "I get it, Han. You're worried."
Han pressed a button on his wrist device, which projected the footage of dead stormtroopers littered throughout the square of the city on Nevarro. Leia watched the footage, and Han saw apprehension on her face. She looked up at him, and he said, "Yeah. I'm worried."
Leia glanced toward Ben and Kira, then back to Han. Han saw her putting together her deductions and conclusions, and he braced himself as she said, "You received evidence that the Imperials aren't as gone as we think. You're thinking ahead about Ben facing dangers, and you're angry about Brasaar's attacks during the debate. You want to rush in, dig up the dirt, and prove the politicians wrong."
She had been empathetic and understanding in delivering the message, but the words still sparked his defensiveness. "Insightful as always," Han growled.
Leia flinched, wounded by his defensiveness. "I'm trying to be understanding, Han."
"Yeah, well I don't appreciate a Jedi reading my mind, thank you very much," Han snapped.
"I'm not using the Force. Reading your emotions is as obvious as reading a datapad," Leia snapped back.
Han bristled, then retorted, "Well, then I'll take my dumb, obvious emotions and go back to helping Chewie fix the motivators."
As he turned to go, Leia stepped forward, tugging at his shoulder, "Han, please."
Han turned, his expression hard as he nursed his ego. Leia continued, "I haven't seen you in three months. This wasn't how I wanted to spend today."
"Sorry for spoiling the reunion," Han bristled, still hurt.
"That doesn't help," Leia said appeasingly. "Anyway, I was coming to tell you that I spoke to Mon Mothma this morning. . ."
"Great, did she also say I need to keep my mind on Black Sun?" Han grumbled.
"No," Leia said, struggling to stifle her impatience. "She told me that she was able to clear several days of duty for you. She told me Commander Voon can monitor incoming data coordination. This means we can all go away for a vacation. Maybe my mother's family's place on Naboo? Or maybe we have Winter watch the kids so we can go to Cophrigin?"
Han turned to Leia, watching her hopeful smile. He felt a twinge of guilt, but his frustration still pulled at him. "I suppose Mon Mothma finds it convenient to have another liability out of sight for a while."
"Damn it, Han!" Leia snapped, her nostrils flaring in anger. "I asked for this for our family, not because Mon Mothma sees you as a problem. Will you get over your stupid ego and think about the rest of us?"
"My stupid ego?" Han asked, as his tone went icy.
"Han, I'm sorry," Leia said, regretful.
Han stood silently, his glare stony. After a moment, he said, "Anyway, thanks for the committee meeting."
Han turned away and stormed off, and Leia shouted, "Han!"
"Mommy!" a young boy's voice called. Leia turned away from Han stalking back to the Falcon and watched Ben racing gleefully toward her with Kira trailing in his wake.
When Ben reached her, he turned to watch Han walking up the Falcon's boarding ramp. He turned back to his mother and scanned her face. Leia squelched the emotional turmoil she felt and slipped into a warm, welcoming expression that she did not entirely feel.
Ben looked back to the Falcon and said, "Where's daddy going?"
"Oh, you know," Leia smiled. "The Falcon's acting up again, and Daddy has to fix it."
"Dumb Falcon," Ben said frowning. Kira sidled up beside Ben, lurking slightly behind him and studying Leia intently. Ben did not seem to notice her, and he blurted, "It's always broken!"
"I know," Leia said animatedly. "I keep telling Daddy he can buy a new Kazellis, but you know Daddy."
"I should help," Ben said. "The Falcon's computer says Daddy is a nitwit."
"The Falcon thinks everyone is a nitwit," Kira affirmed confidently.
"Not me!" Ben said defiantly.
Leia winked at Kira, who smiled sheepishly. Leia stole a glance back at the Falcon and noticed Han moving around in the cockpit. His anger and frustration rippled through the Force, and she sighed. She turned back to the kids, who were embarking on a spirited debate about whom the Falcon considered smart or not.
"Kids," Leia said. "How would you like to go to Auntie Pooja's house on Naboo for a week?"
"Really!?" Ben blurted excitedly. Kira nodded sheepishly, her excitement lurking behind her shyness. Ben looked back at the Falcon and asked, "Is Daddy coming, too?"
"I sure hope so," Leia sighed. She noticed Kira frowning, and she corrected herself. "Daddy has a lot of work right now, but I did ask Mon Mothma to give him a vacation. What do you think?"
"I wanna go!" Ben blurted excitedly. Kira overcame her shyness and began to bounce, unable to contain her excitement.
Han watched the video for the umpteenth time, then switched off the video feed and leaned back in his chair. He listened as Chewie wrapped up his work below decks, and he gazed at the ceiling in frustration. The impulse to act clashed against his frustration toward Mon Mothma and Madine. He regretted taking his frustrations out on Leia, and that regret grew deeper as he recognized that all she was looking for was connection. She was not a part of the government anymore, and it was not her fault that Mon Mothma kept playing the cautious hand.
He was on the verge of walking back to the temple to apologize when the notification pinged on the computer. He leaned over and pushed the button, and General Madine's face appeared in a pre-recorded message.
"Director Solo," Madine said. "We've just received word that the Black Sun has orchestrated another major raid on the planet Nothoiin near the Anoat Sector. Reports indicate heavy casualties. I'm dispatching you in the hopes that you can arrive in two-days' time, assess the damage, and interview local authorities. I'm placing this at the highest priority, and the Nothoiin's are expecting you."
Han rolled his eyes, feeling a sudden resentment now that he had concluded he needed to apologize to Leia. No sooner did he have the thought than Leia entered the Falcon's galley.
"Han?" Leia asked tentatively.
"Hey," Han said, his voice softer. They stared at each other, both uncertain and contrite. Han broke the silence, saying, "Leia, I'm sorry."
Tears welled in Leia's eyes, and she said, "I know."
Han smiled in return, and he rose from his seat to cross the galley. The two embraced, and as Han held the embrace, Leia said, "I know you're scared, Han. I am, too. I just told Luke about it, and he's deliberating with the Jedi Council. There's a chance they might investigate."
"That's – good to hear," Han said, willing away the surge of impatience.
"So then," Leia said, and her smile was radiant as she pulled away. "What do you say? Vacation on Naboo?"
Han exhaled and looked to the ceiling. He drifted back to the computer and replayed Madine's message. As Leia watched, her face sagged with disappointment.
"The kids were so excited," Leia said.
"You guys go," Han said. "You know how itchy I get around royal types."
"I guess that depends on what you mean by 'itchy'," Leia said mischievously, and Han raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
"Do we have time for anything else?" Han asked, and they both glanced toward the cockpit, remembering a moment long ago deep inside what they thought was a cave.
Leia's face fell again as she glanced at Madine's face, which had been paused in a mildly ridiculous expression. She sighed, then said, "Not if you want to keep your job. You better go."
"I'll check it out and swing back to Naboo," Han promised, adding, "And then see what you have in mind for relieving itches."
"Scoundrel," Leia smiled, and she leaned in to kiss Han on the lips. She pulled away and said, "See me before you go."
"You bet, Jedi," Han winked.
He watched her turn away and drift out of the Falcon, feeling slightly disoriented at the abrupt turn from anger and frustration to longing and desire. He turned back to the computer screen and switched off Madine's holo. He keyed in a code, and the computer projected a sliver of the galaxy surrounding the Anoat Sector. He scanned the familiar stellar geography, and a word caught his eye. Only a three hours' run away from Nothoiin sat a planet whose name sent a jolt through Han's spine.
Nevarro.