The speeder bore them away from the port and toward the city center. The speeder was a model designed to catch the eye, to impress not only its passengers but those who pulled up alongside it at intersections or who parked next to it on the street. Or those, like Han, who could sniff out a luxury model a klik away and reel off the specs and features to anyone who would care to listen.

The seats were of black leather – not factory-quality leather, but custom hand-stitched leather – and lined with red piping. The controls were sleek and modern. Soft music floated from state-of-the-art speakers. As with most luxury speeders there was no sentient driver to mar the surrounding environment but Han and Leia had chosen to sit in the backseat all the same. A console revealed their destination, a pin on a digital map that held no significance to either passenger.

The speeder was not a rental and not a service paid for by the hour. It was sent from their host and would remain at their destination as long as needed. I didn't know Louis had money, Han thought. He would have voiced that to Leia had they been talking to each other. But except for their conversation a few hours ago and some necessary instructions traded during the flight to Kanalis, they weren't talking, not really.

The speeder bore them along in a cushion of quiet. Sleek high-rises dotted the cityscape below them but Han could tell the dense downtown area was more compact than usual for a city of this size. Most of the surrounding buildings were mid-rises with light-colored brick and stucco walls and topped with blue shingled roofs. They appeared solid, sturdy, and built during an age when care was taken with craftsmanship and quality was not skimped on.

After the mid-rises petered out the houses started up. Two-, three-, and four-story dwellings of varying architectural styles, all pleasing to the eye, contained the essence of understated affluence. Lush yards filled the spaces between. As the speeder gradually reduced in altitude, Han's window framed block after block of color-coordinated residences.

During the last leg of the journey, when they hovered just above the tree-lined streets, the houses grew even larger as if they had been stretched in all directions, frontwards and backwards and sideways, until they resembled miniature hotels. The grassy expanses between them stretched in size too until the surface areas of the yards dwarfed those of the homes they belonged to.

Despite the protective veil of wealth surrounding their destination, Han felt uneasy. Not regarding the actual errand they were on: they would hear what Louis had to say – and Han could not begin to fathom what that might be – and they would offer advice or refer him to someone they knew and then they would leave and go back to the Falcon. It was that last part that made him uneasy. He and Leia's path forward was no clearer to him now than it had been when they had left Canto Bight. The prospect of yet more aimless flying when they were at cross purposes with each other made him nauseous.

He was still frustrated with his recklessness at the casino. Losing a third of their savings was embarrassing. And to do so after skipping out on his wife and Luke while they were having a nice night together was immature at best. Why couldn't he just have been happy in spite of the ye olde dinner crap? It shouldn't be difficult: don't do anything rash with your stash of credits and stay by the side of the woman you love. Couldn't he manage to follow those simple instructions?

Clearly he could not. Han's self-loathing had turned up a notch but not high enough to completely obscure his anger toward Leia. His bitterness surprised him; in the beginning it had been exciting to fly toward endless possibilities but he of all people should have known that running away never solved anything. And although he was still convinced Leia had been the one to bring them to this point, he knew he wasn't completely blameless. He should have been upfront with his concerns, should have resisted kicking the can down the road, should have really considered whether the lack of any sort of planning and structure in their life was wise. But because his anger had not quite spent itself, he kept her at a distance and found himself unwilling to bridge the gap between them.

In this moment, however, he was more concerned about Leia's state of mind than his own. He had pushed for them to come to Kanalis so that she could once again be invested in something, at least for a few hours. Blank-eyed and despondent, she had retreated to the Falcon's cabin a week ago and had emerged only occasionally. It scared him and it shamed him because he knew his accusations on Canto Bight were partly the cause. He was waiting for her to shake off her stupor but she had shown no signs of doing that. Thus Louis's message seemed the perfect opportunity for someone else to do it for her.

The speeder glided to a stop in front of a stone-lined house. Black shutters framed tall windows that marched in frozen time across the ground floor. A neat gravel path led to the front door.

Leia stepped out of the speeder and stood looking at the house, ramrod straight. Han climbed out behind her and without thinking touched her arm. She stayed rigid, refusing to relax into his touch, but neither did she flinch.

They started up the path and as they reached the porch the heavy black door swung open. A woman, thirty-ish and holding a toddler in one arm, greeted them warmly.

"We're so glad you came," she said. "When Louis sent his message we weren't sure where you were and if flying here would even be possible. And you arrived so quickly!"

"We're happy to help," Leia replied smoothly. Han recognized her years of diplomatic experience taking over. His wife held out her hand. "I'm Leia Organa."

"Oh! Excuse my manners. I'm Riva, Louis's sister." She nodded down at the little girl. "This is my daughter, Elle. And you must be General Solo."

"Call me Han." Despite her verbal scatteredness her grip was firm and confident.

Riva ushered them into the foyer and craned her head toward the stairway. "Louis! They're here!"

There was a clatter above them and a moment later Louis came trotting down the stairs with Silas close behind.

"Thank you for coming, both of you." Louis bent down to give Leia a hug and clapped Han on his shoulder. He was taller than Han had remembered, but they had only met in person twice so the details were a little fuzzy. The close-trimmed beard might have been a new development, or not.

"Hi, Silas." Despite liking and respecting both men, it was Silas to whom Leia was drawn. She held their hug for a long beat and then stepped back to appraise him. "You look well."

"I am, thank you." Silas held out his hand to Han. "Good to see you both."

"Snack, mommy?" Elle tugged at her mother's hand. "Yogie?"

"Sure, sweetie, let's get some yogurt." Riva glanced apologetically at her guests. "I can give you the tour later. Maybe for now we can talk in the kitchen? You're probably wondering what this is all about."

"A little," admitted Han.

"I'll make us something to drink," Silas said to Louis. "Why don't you catch them up?"

They waited politely until the tea and kaffe had been prepared and the mugs deposited in the center of the table. Elle was digging into her second cup of yogurt when Silas sat down and pushed the tray in front of Han and Leia.

"We're not trying to be mysterious," he said. "But we're not sure how seriously to take this and we didn't know who else to go to."

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Leia suggested.

Louis took a sip of his mug. Riva was busying herself at the counter; Han had the sense she had heard all of this before and then some.

"Silas and I have been staying here on and off for almost a year," Louis started. "We left everything behind on Bessos, as you know, and frankly it's been easier to crash in one of Riva's guest rooms than decide on which planet we want to live. The house is plenty big," he added, "and gives us the opportunity to spend time with Elle."

"It was passed down from my husband's family, the house," Riva added. She pulled a plate down and emptied a box of shortbread biscuits onto it. "Devon can be gone for a few days at a time and I feel better knowing someone else is here, especially with Elle."

"Devon has been involved for years with politics on Kanalis," Louis went on. "Politics runs in his family and they have been major contributors to one of the parties here. He was the first to actually run for office, though. He's sat in the Kanalis Parliament for what, three terms now, Riva?"

Riva nodded. "He'll run for his fourth term next year."

"Kanalis politics is pretty stable most of the time. We haven't had nearly the excitement that exists on other worlds or in the New Republic Senate."

"Until recently," Silas said.

"To make a long story short," Louis continued, "Devon was recently given a tip about a plot. He said it made him nervous and so we reached out to you."

"Why was Devon the one informed?" Leia asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Devon used to have some... involvement, shall we say, with several of those connected to this plot. Mostly financial, mostly coming from other members of his family, but he himself has had his share of dealings with them," Louis glanced at Riva. "They were public supporters of his campaigns. And he thinks because of those connections, he was the one tipped off about what that group is planning."

"And what are they planning?"

Louis paused. "Assassination attempts on several of the New Republic's leaders. That's why we comm'd you as soon as we heard."

The table went quiet for a moment. The others were somber and had clearly carried the burden of this information so Han felt a little guilty that his gut reaction was: That's it? He didn't have to be married to one of the government's (former) high-ranking officials to know that at any given moment there were dozens if not hundreds of assassination plots making their way through the preparation stages. No matter the political currents, the galaxy was large and pockets of murderous discontent seethed in the shadows. The New Republic Security Bureau was tasked with investigating and identifying which of those plots were at risk for making it to the actionable stage and then taking the appropriate measures to ensure they were never carried out.

"Okay," Leia said slowly. Han could tell she was thinking along the same lines as he was. "What details do you have about this plot? Dates, events, government targets, specific individuals involved?"

Louis looked a bit helpless. "Not many details, unfortunately. Devon learned the assassinations weren't imminent but planned to occur sometime in the next six months."

"Is Mon one of the targets?"

Louis nodded. "Her and three others. Two names I recognized but one I didn't." He pushed a folded flimsi across the table to Leia.

Leia studied the names. "Except for Mon, these three aren't in particularly public positions but they carry a fair bit of responsibility behind the scenes. They're not who I would have necessarily expected to be targeted." She tapped her finger on the flimsi. "Could this group be receiving information from inside the government?"

"I suppose so." Louis shrugged. "But we haven't heard anything specifically about that."

Han spoke up. "From what you say, Kanalis has always been fairly insular. Isn't a plot to take out galactic leaders a little, uh, ambitious?"

Louis shook his head. "The information given to Devon made it clear the group is no longer just restricted to membership on this planet. They have expanded their reach to other worlds and are trying to build support."

"Support for what?" Leia asked.

"The best we can tell is that they are trying to deal a mortal blow to the New Republic."

"And replace it with what?"

"Who knows? Maybe nothing. Or something that reflects their own aims."

"That's completely unrealistic," Silas jumped in. "A few wannabe assassins are not going to change the course of galactic politics."

"And even if that were the case, why are they still at large?" Han asked. "Shouldn't some of them been taken in for questioning by now?"

"There might not be any hard evidence against them," Leia said without looking at him.

"You can still question somebody without hard evidence," Han retorted. "And if they turn out to pose a threat, the people doin' the questioning can rough them up a bit to discourage others."

There was an awkward pause around the table. "We don't know any more than what we've told you," Louis said finally. "I know you came all the way out here and I wish we knew more, but we didn't want to regret not telling you if something were to happen."

Leia straightened up in her chair. "Look, I can pass along to Mon and the Security Bureau what information you have. But without many details there's not much that we – they – can do. They'll monitor communications going into and out of Kanalis more closely, of course. But we should figure out how to get more intel out of this faction. Can Devon help with that?"

"He'll be home later," Riva said. "And, yes, I think he could help with that."

Leia focused on her mug and Han could tell she was turning something over in her mind. But she stayed quiet and he tried not to anticipate what she might be thinking. He had a feeling too that something wasn't quite right but he wasn't sure what exactly that was.

"Swing, Mommy." Elle had finished her second yogurt and was drawing patterns on her tray with her spoon.

"All right sweetie, we can go to the park." Armed with damp napkins, Riva scooped up Elle with one hand and wiped down the booster seat tray with the other. "Would anyone like to come with us? It's not far."

"I would." Leia stood and pushed in her chair. "I could use some fresh air."

"I'll go too," offered Louis.

"Guess I'm cleaning up," said Silas.

The others had departed when Han helped clear the table. He was happy to stay; he liked Silas and from their first encounter had thought him supremely competent, able not only to handle whatever life threw at him but also turn an otherwise insurmountable challenge into an actionable set of processes that would reduce the challenge into something manageable.

"What do you think about all of this?" Han asked.

Silas busied himself slotting mugs into the dishwasher. "I'm a little skeptical, to say the least. But I'm trying to keep an open mind. I figure it's the least I can do, after what I put Louis through."

Han and Leia had first met Silas during the war. As a director at an Imperial-run pharmaceutical plant, he had been skimming doses off the shipments and sending them to Rebellion-sympathizing medcenters that tended to victims of the war. A side trip resulted in Han and Leia rescuing Silas from being detained on Bessos and helping him escape off-planet. They had met him and Louis several times since, both during and after the war. Having escaped separately with little communication between them, it had taken months for the two men to meet up again. After that they were stalwart supporters of the Rebellion and Silas in particular had lent his efforts to the Alliance toward the end of the war.

"So you two are doing okay?" Han asked. Leia knew more of the details, but it had been touch-and-go for a while between Silas and Louis. Louis had known nothing of Silas's undercover activities while they were living on Bessos and once the authorities were made aware had been forced to leave their home with only the clothes on his back.

"We are," Silas said. "It's been a long road but we're doing well now. And you?"

Han didn't know if he was being polite or if the tension between him and Leia was obvious to others.

"We're, uh..." He tried to come up with something vague yet accurate. "Most of the time things have been good but we seem to have hit a bit of rough patch."

"When we heard she resigned, we were surprised."

"You weren't the only one."

Silas flashed a quick smile. "In that case, you can absolutely count on some rough patches. I think Louis still holds some resentment toward me. But it's an improvement over the first few months after we reunited."

"I don't resent Leia," Han protested. "I just wished she had talked to me first. Or asked what I thought about any of this."

"Did you suspect anything was wrong? That she was planning to resign?"

"No." Han was sobered by the question and his answer. "Maybe I should have."

"She wasn't acting different in any way?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe." Han scratched his chin, suddenly uncomfortable. "Maybe I should have been paying more attention. We just got caught up in the day-to-day life, y'know? Work and dinner and going out and seeing friends and all of that. Downtime at home with just the two of us was great but it didn't exactly occur every day."

"Sounds like she was living in her head a lot."

"I'm not sure. That's not really Leia. She does things quickly, takes action. She said she had been considering quitting for a while but I wonder how much thought she actually put into it."

"Well." Silas wiped his hands on a towel. "All I can say is that if your marriage is important to you – and I'm sure it is – then you have to keep trying. And," he gave Han a wry smile no doubt born from painful experience, "apologies never hurt either."

"So what have you and Silas been doing since we last saw you?" Leia asked Louis. "It's been what – two years?"

"Something like that. Hard to believe, huh?"

They sat under tree whose branches drooped until they were nearly brushing the back of the bench. Riva was pushing Elle on a swing. It was fall on Kanalis but the air was warm and the leaves were only starting to change color.

"We've been here with Riva, on and off for a while. I guess you could say it's our home base."

"Does it feel like home?"

"I suppose so. Not entirely, since we're living with another family. Thankfully the house is big enough that we're not usually intruding. But it made sense." Louis picked at a leaf that had landed next to him. "For a while we were on Palus Five but Silas wasn't happy with his job there. I was back to doing my editing work which, to be fair, can be done from just about anywhere. But given his job and the fact we hadn't really settled into a community, we decided to come back here."

"Are you hoping for a long-term home somewhere?"

"In theory, yes," Louis said. "Silas is looking for work but thanks to Riva and her money we aren't desperate. I'm still doing part-time editing. One day Elle will start school, though, and then we'll both need more to occupy our time." He looked out into the distance, past his niece on the swing. "One thing I learned from those terrible months when we were separated is that you just can't plan too much. You have to be flexible in order to make it through the tough times. Maybe all it takes is becoming less emotionally connected to the day-to-day challenges."

Leia wasn't quite sure what to say in response. The lessons Louis had learned from adversity and upheaval rang true but perhaps they were only true for him. "I don't know what I need," she confessed. "Maybe that's my problem."

"Perhaps you need work. Hard work."

"Work can't always be the answer."

"No, I suppose not."

They were quiet for a while. Elle had abandoned the swings and was now digging in the sandbox with a stick.

"Louis, have you met anyone in this faction that is supposedly plotting these assassinations?" Leia said suddenly.

"Let me guess. You're wondering if Devon has any involvement with that particular group."

"It's certainly convenient he claims knowledge of the plot while at the same time denying a relationship with the plotters."

Louis laughed. "That sounds like Devon, all right. He's a politician, first and foremost, and isn't always forthcoming in everything he knows."

"Doesn't that make you suspicious of what he's told you so far?"

"Not really, no." Louis waved to Elle who was showing off her sandy hands to him. "Why would he invent this? And it isn't just Riva and me and Silas he's told; I heard him talking to others about it too."

Leia thought about that. "If it is real, I'd like to meet those involved," she said. "And see for myself what they're like."

"I'm sure Devon can arrange that. He's rather proud of his reach in politics. Due to his money, his Parliament campaigns have been successful and he has been able to buy access to other politicians."

"And Riva?"

Louis paused. "My sister is one of the best people I know. She's kind, caring, generous, and certainly not selfish in any way. But since she married Devon, she's come to appreciate the finer things in life and now she wants those things for Elle too."

"You think she overlooks flaws in her husband."

"Don't we all? She loves him and I've never had reason to believe he doesn't love her. But her focus is on Elle now and not so much the details of Devon's work and his political associations."

"And what's your focus?"

Louis smiled and twirled the leaf he was holding. "Silas, I suppose. And my niece and sister. I feel as if I'm floating along most of the time, like a leaf on the wind. I'm not sure if what happened back on Bessos changed me or if I would have become this way regardless. My life here is a luxury, I admit – I have everything I need and I can take one day at a time without worrying about the future."

It sounded tempting – comfort, peace, daily life with the people you love – but it also felt like an illusion, Leia thought. And now even a planet like Kanalis couldn't escape galactic politics. Wherever she went, however far she flew from the center of action, trouble seemed to find its way to her. It was one thing to escape your present but maybe it was impossible to escape your past.

"Unkie Louis," announced Elle. She had materialized next to the bench, specks of sand clinging to her forehead and fingernails. Behind her Riva was fishing a sippy cup from the stroller basket. "Time go home."

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up on recent events and taking turns chasing after an overexcited toddler.

Louis and Riva were putting together dinner when she excused herself to the other room.

"Devon is going to be home late," she announced on her return. "You can talk to him in the morning. He can't wait to meet you. And you must stay with us tonight."

"We wouldn't think of imposing like that –" Leia began.

"I insist. We have plenty of room."

"We're more than happy to return in the morning," Leia tried again.

"That's very generous of you," Han interrupted. "And it would be nice to sleep somewhere else for a change. In fact," he glanced at his wife, "after dinner I'll go to the ship and pack up some stuff for us. Sound good?"

Leia's expression was unreadable but Han liked to think she softened just a little bit. Or maybe she was just as tired of the Falcon as he was. "Fine. Thank you, Riva."

After Han returned with an overstuffed bag, Elle was in bed and Riva took them upstairs. She pointed out Louis and Silas's room and the hall that led to Elle's room and her and Devon's room. After two sharp turns, they arrived at a corner room on the opposite wing.

"You'll let me know if you need anything," Riva said. "Everything should be set up but there are extra linens in the closet if you need them."

Leia pressed her hand. "Thank you, Riva. We'll see you in the morning."

The room was large and anchored by a four-poster bed adorned with elaborately carved posts. Heavy furniture in the same wood grain stood stiffly against the walls. A door on the far side presumably led to a 'fresher and closet.

Leia went to the window and closed the curtains, gazing out at the dark for a moment before she did so. Han could see the wheels turning in her head.

"What do you think?" She spoke without looking at him.

"I think for committed anarchists they sure have a lot of guest rooms."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"I counted at least three. Seems like a lot to me."

"I mean about the anarchist part."

"I dunno. What would you call them?" When she didn't respond, Han kept going. "Reading between the lines, it seems the family is funding – or has funded – anti-government activity. And they're not exactly alerting the authorities about this assassination plot."

"They told us."

"Sure, instead of going to law enforcement on their own planet. That should have been their first step if they were truly concerned."

Finally, Leia met his eyes. "You don't think they're actually concerned."

"Do you?"

"I'm not sure. Louis is, I think. Silas is a bit more cynical. I can't read Riva very well. And who knows about her husband."

"If he even exists."

"Someone has to carry out the hard work to maintain all these guest rooms."

It was as close to a joke as she had cracked in a week but she still couldn't hide a vulnerability that was heartbreakingly obvious to Han. He took a step toward her, hand outstretched. "Leia –"

She brushed by him and headed into the 'fresher. The door closed and a moment later Han heard water running. He sat down on his side of the bed and rubbed his head, trying to focus on the positives of their current situation. For one, they were not sitting on his ship stewing in silence. They had a problem in front of them that needed tackling, though the next steps were admittedly a little hazy.

And there was only the one bed in the room so, absent Leia kicking him to the floor, they would be forced to sleep next to each other.

Later, after she had turned off the bedside lamp, Han lay staring up at the ceiling. Next to him Leia was curled up in a ball with her back to him. She had given him no further hint as to what she was thinking or what they might do in the morning. Typical, he might have said in his more bitter moments.

They would just have to muddle through, he thought; that was all there was to it. Muddle through. An apt guide to life, at least for now. There was still love – Han had no doubt about that – and so therefore there was hope. He told himself to focus on the next few steps and not look too far ahead. They would wake up in the morning and eat breakfast with these maybe-anarchists and go from there.

Somewhere.