Of all the tools Han Solo possessed, and there were many, the blowtorch had always been held in high regard.
On Hoth, a blowtorch was something special. He liked the noise, somewhere in between a roar and a hiss. He liked to wave it at people when they talked to him. They had to stay back a little, and speak a bit louder. The flame was warm, too.
He found himself looking at things, wondering what would happen if he used a blowtorch on them. The melted snow would have been genius, except for the fact that Echo Base was always below freezing, so the water quickly refroze as extra slippery ice and the Princess fussed at him when she fell.
Steak wasn't too bad, except he had to clean a dirty grate real well first and the meat, while tasty and charred on the outside, was still mostly raw on the inside. Chewie insisted the meat was ruined, and he didn't talk to Han for a day.
A blowtorch worked wonders on painted surfaces, too. Luke was pretty pissed that Han had held the flame close to C-3PO's mouth area and burned it black, and he was even more pissed when Han experimentally held the flame farther away, and the gold coating softened enough that Han could peel it away. The best part was the metal got so soft Han bent an extra joint between the wrist and elbow of the droid's arm.
And now Wedge had come to him with a problem. The ends of the tow cables for the snowspeeders were starting to fray.
"Cheap pisses of shit," Han clucked in sympathy.
"If it's not one thing it's another," Wedge agreed.
"If we get 'em hot enough, they'll melt together," Han proposed, giving the blowtorch a pat.
"You realize you don't have any friends because of that thing?" Wedge said.
Han smiled. "If I had to choose between a friend and a blowtorch, give me the blowtorch every time."
"I'm only willing 'cause I can't see how you could make it worse."
"They'll come around, you'll see," Han said of his friends.
Luke had tried most everything. Held a sonic dryer near C-3PO, poured melted water over him (that had made the situation far worse), and even hovered his lightsaber near him, but the droid remained bent over, unable to straighten.
"I knew it would happen, Master Luke. My joints have frozen. What an undignified end this is. I regret I haven't served you lo-"
Luke shut the droid down. "I'm going to ask Han to try the blowtorch."
"He'll melt him into a liquid scrap heap," Wedge said. "You know he hates that droid."
"Yeah, but he could have earlier, and he didn't. Besides, Leia needs C-3PO for work and he'll do anything for her. "
"If he thaws that droid, sounds like he'll do anything for you."
Luke smiled.
The Princess was at the bottom of the freighter's ramp, squeezing her fingers and looking small. "Captain, I have a situation, and I think you're the only one to help me."
"'Bout time you realized that, sweetheart," Han told her.
"R2 and C-3PO thought they were being helpful, and washed my clothing, the way we used to do it on Alderaan."
"I didn't know you had more than one snowsuit."
"I don't. But I do have a number of underthings. The problem is, on Alderaan we used water."
"Oh," Han said. "Ohhh."
"Yes. They're frozen solid. And they are going to remain that way, unless..."
Han stood up and fetched his trusty blowtorch. "No problem, Princess. I'm good at thawing things."
"Yes," she agreed without meaning to, and followed after him to her quarters. "You might be."
Chewie huddled with the Princess on the Falcon. The day had gone terribly wrong. No one had noticed Luke's failure to check in after his patrol, and he'd been missing for hours. And then Han had rushed out to look for him. Now it was night and it was storming. A search wouldn't begin until the morning.
They both tried to convince themselves the two men would be fine.
"They carry emergency packs," the Princess tried to assure herself.
*And strong survival instincts,* Chewie added.
"The speeders will be working."
*Han's comm might still be turned off.*
"Oh, Chewie, don't say that. I'd give anything to just... be so mad at him, you know? I need him here. I need them both. I'm scared."
*If he had the blowtorch...* Chewie had looked frantically for it; hoped against hope somehow Han had holstered it just like he did his blaster before he went out in that storm. The blowtorch was a lot more useful on Hoth than a blaster was. But Chewie found it on the hull, the fuel canister almost empty.
Leia smiled sadly and leaned into Chewie. "I wouldn't worry at all. And if we knew where he was, I'd race out there and bring it myself, and melt the frost from his eyelashes. I would yell, and I would cry, and laugh and be so relieved."
*Would you tell him you love him?*
Leia hesitated, and sought the Wookiee's eyes. "What are you- how- whatever gave you that idea?"
*It's not a blowtorch that makes the heat between you two.*
Leia blushed. "I...no. I'm not ready. I can't. And we had a fight, a bad one-"
Chewie put his arm around the small woman. *Then they will find him in the morning. He will have Luke. They were on patrol together. Han knows where to look.*
"How can you be so sure?"
Her voice was small and Chewie was not sure, but he wanted to be, and anyway what he was saying was the truth. *You of all people know to be ready for an end. Yes? And yet you are not ready. So it is not the end. And he is a bit like the blowtorch he loves to use. He's done it all. Sometimes he gets burned, sometimes he makes something new, and other times he just watches how things melt away before it.*
It was hard to wait. Chewie just wanted the answer, alive or dead. He thought of his long association with Han, and grunted.