"Grab my hand."

A corona of braids materialized below Han as he knelt on the narrow path. Leia's head and fingers surfaced next to his boots as she grasped a protrusion of slatestone that wobbled in her grip. In the absence of secure handholds within reach, she extended her other hand to his and let him haul her up next to him. Short legs and steep angles were undoubtedly a frustrating combination on a climb such as this.

The four hikers caught their breath and took in the view to the west, a ring of mountains that hugged a grassy plateau. Interrupted by nothing more than a few scattered structures, the expanse held a neat grid of ships, perhaps two or three dozen in total. Han recognized most of the models, some older than others, but all displaying evidence of being meticulously maintained. There were no other signs of habitation.

"I don't get it." Luke stared at the base below. "Do they just practice against each other? If they're such great pilots, why hasn't the Empire absorbed them into their fleet?"

They were on a standard recruitment assignment, as standard as any mission was at this point in the war. A steady stream of eager idealists flowed to the Rebellion nearly as quickly as the losses piled up. To no one's surprise, less-than-idealistic beings pondering enlistment were not exactly encouraged by the attrition rate. As one of the heroes of the Alliance, Luke had been dispatched with instructions to speak pilot-to-pilot on the glory and adventure of serving in the Rebellion. Han, having perhaps exaggerated the risk of their flight path through Imperial space, had insisted he was the only qualified person to ferry them safely there and back.

"The Empire is too shortsighted to recruit from a planet like this," Leia said. She screwed the cap back on her thermos and slipped it into her pack. "They can only see what's in front of their faces, not the potential that lies under the surface."

"But how are they even in a position to buy and maintain those ships?" Luke protested. "There aren't any major cities. We've barely seen signs of industry since we've landed."

"Spice," Han said bluntly. "All those plants we passed on the way up, the ones with the reddish leaves? Those are a key ingredient in the aquila varietal. It's big in this sector; lots of business for smugglers. I bet they grow 'em and dry 'em and sell them on the black market."

"Oh." Luke absorbed that information with a frown. "Well, let's hope their pilots abstain."

"Illegal activity?" The fourth member of the group, Lieutenant Varyus, whom Han recalled went by the nickname of Vaxx, looked nervous. "Should we be worried?"

Han couldn't help rolling his eyes. The new kid, a mechanic recently deposited from one of the fleet flagships and already getting a reputation for being a wizard with the X-wings, was annoyingly earnest. He was also in the habit of stealing glances at the Princess when he thought no one was looking.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Leia said. She studied the map, trailing her finger the way they had come. "The shelter should just be up ahead." Their contacts had insisted on meeting in the morning, for what reason Han could only assume was a way to preserve their dignity before acceding in full to the Alliance's requests.

The three men followed Leia on the path as it curved up and around the hillside. Han resisted lobbing a joke at the expense of the Princess's navigation skills as "just up ahead" turned into a nearly hour-long trek. The sun, hazy through low wisps of cloud, was sinking beneath the horizon when they finally reached a clearing. A cabin framed by two evergreens standing sentry rested in the shadows.

Once inside, it was clear the shelter had been uninhabited for quite a while. Narrow bunks lined the walls topped by mattresses blanketed with a smattering of dead insects. The 'fresher in the corner looked rudimentary at best and there was nothing resembling cooking supplies or anything else that would have been useful for an overnight stay.

"Either these folks are overplaying their hand or they have the best damn pilots this side of the galaxy," Han muttered. "We're expected to sleep here?"

"At least it's evening," Luke said optimistically. "We should be out of here by first light."

"I'll take first watch," Leia announced. Seemingly unperturbed by the others' assessments of the accommodations, she dropped her pack on a bunk and pulled a ration bar from a zippered pocket.

"I'd be happy to take your watch, Princess," Vaxx said quickly. "You can stay here. You must be tired."

Han smiled inwardly. The kid was going to discover sooner or later that he was banking on the wrong approach and Han just hoped he would be around to witness the fallout.

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," Leia said briskly without looking at Vaxx. "We'll all take our fair share." She shrugged a jacket over her shoulders, nodded at Luke and Han, and strode out of the cabin.

The three men stood awkwardly after she left. "I'll take the one after her," Luke yawned. He pawed through his bag and pulled out a clean tunic and blanket. Arranging them neatly on his bunk, he proceeded to strip down to his shorts and head to the 'fresher door.

Han shined a torch skeptically along the nearest bed. Sure, he'd slept in worse places in his life but that didn't mean he had to fake enthusiasm about spending the night in a worn-out hut like this one.

The absence of Leia, whose magnetism drew others to her and enlivened their perceptions of themselves, left the trio without any spirit for extended conversation. They traded few words while sleepwalking through the evening routine and then stretched out silently in their bunks, immersed in their own thoughts.

After the other mens' breathing evened out Han sat up, slipped his feet into his boots, and crept out of the cabin. He let his eyes adjust to the post-twilight softness around him before he spotted the Princess sitting a few meters away. Someone must have chopped down one of the larger trees around, split the trunk lengthwise, and hinged it open to fashion a kind of bench. Leia was perched toward one end, not in the middle, and Han wondered if she was unconsciously hoping for company.

"I'd be happy to take your watch, Princess." He adopted a lilting tone as he lowered himself beside her. The bench wasn't nearly as comfortable as it looked and it didn't even look comfortable. "You can get your beauty rest and I'll bring you breakfast in bed in the morning."

Leia's head dipped in the way Han had grown to love, a rare but graceful movement that he pretended existed only for him. "He means well," she said, a smile in her voice. "They all do."

"Yeah."

It was the first time they were alone since their joint assignment that included the detour to Alturaa. Han felt as if they were breaking new ground again, two strangers attempting their first conversation, feeling each other out, learning the other's conversational rhythms. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her pick at the laces of her boots.

"You're still here."

Han didn't say anything. He had mostly let go of his anger at the way, or non-way, she had broken things off between them. In his view he had only been honest — perhaps unflinchingly so — about what he had to do. Even aside from the war the galaxy was a dangerous place; he held no illusions that a special favor shined on him and released him from his obligations simply because he wished it were so. He felt that Leia, although no stranger to harsh reality, was unwilling to accept any impediments that threatened to compromise the war effort. His refusal to allow them to be lulled by a false sense of optimism had squared off against her single-mindedness. Their burgeoning relationship — if that word even applied — had been the loser.

For weeks after they had returned to base she had avoided him, sharing only polite interactions in the company of others. Initially he had raged at her — silently, of course — and at himself; then sulked; then feigned indifference; but recently he had come around to a kind of grim acceptance. Something would have to change her mind to bring her back to where she belonged, back in his arms; aside from ignoring his debt and deathmark, however, he didn't know what that something was.

"Well, seeing as we're on top of a mountain with nothing else around, there doesn't seem to be anywhere for me to go," he quipped. "Unless you know of a luxury hotel nearby or somethin'."

Leia's head dipped down again. Was she smiling? Or simply ignoring his feeble attempt at pretending the collapse between them hadn't occurred?

Han sighed, suddenly too tired to play the game. "Yeah. I'm still here."

Shadowy wings hummed around them. Other unidentifiable sounds emanated from the hillside. Han let himself study her at length, the set of her mouth and chin, the firmness of her expression as she scrutinized the surrounding flora for potential threats. She must have sensed him staring at her — how could she not have? — but gave no outward indication, no recognition whatsoever.

Something caught his eye. "Here." He grazed his hand over the wisp of hairs behind her ear and plucked out a vee of fir needles. "Must have picked this up on the hike."

Leia took it from his fingers, studied it for a moment, and let it twirl to the ground. "Thank you."

"Can only imagine what else might be caught in there," he murmured, affecting to look closely. "Could be an entire ecosystem taking up residence in those braids of yours."

Han recalled the time on their trip when he had watched her brush her hair. To his mind the process had taken surprisingly long for someone as efficient as she, someone who frequently seemed to have moved on to the next task while still completing the current one. He remembered curtains of hair drifting over her shoulders and back, concealing the bare skin underneath. The memory made him brave, made him move closer still and raise a hand to her head.

He brushed his fingers through those wisps of hair again. And again. She was sensitive behind her ears, something he had discovered to his delight one night when they were ensconced in the Falcon's bunk, and he had then proceeded to test that discovery again and again with his tongue and teeth. He limited himself to his lips for now and leaned closer to brush them over the fine strands. Before he knew it, he was dotting kisses under the lobe and down the curve of her jaw. Leia tensed beneath him, as if every muscle in her body had seized up simultaneously.

"I'm on watch," she whispered.

"So keep your eyes open."

A shaky breath escaped and Han thought she leaned ever so slightly toward him. Encouraged, he applied more pressure, letting himself linger each time he made contact. Her skin fluttered under his lips and he found himself powerless to abandon the dewy softness of her neck. Reorienting himself to a new target, he brushed over the curve of her throat, advancing almost imperceptibly toward her skipping pulse. Lazily, with all the time in the galaxy, he flicked his tongue along a blue-white vein, drawing closer to that tender spot, to —

"Han."

He stopped but didn't pull away. Slowly, he released the breath he was holding and basked in her warmth one last time before he raised his head. He caught her eyes fly open, the resoluteness in her expression undimmed.

"Well, I'm gonna get some sleep." Han scooted off the log and reclined on the ground, doing his best to ignore the lumps under his back. Without his pack or even a jacket to use as a pillow, he settled for crooking an arm under his head. "Wake me if anything exciting happens."

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the shelter?"

"Nah." He ignored the sarcasm in her voice. "It's a good night for sleeping outside. Not too hot. Not too cold. You can see the stars." He pointed at the sky, trying to recall the ancient stories behind the constellations in the event the continuation of his presence demanded it. If necessary, he'd resort to making something up.

He felt Leia move slightly away but she didn't press her case. He closed his eyes and tried not to dwell on the image of her body fitted against his, chest and legs and hips flush against him as they stared at distant worlds. He'd rub her shoulders while the sky darkened to an inky black and the stars unveiled a dazzling show just for them. As ambient noises lulled them to sleep, she'd wind her arm over his chest like she once did, nestle her face in his neck, whisper thoughts deep within, thoughts only he was privy to, and —

"Han." Leia was shaking his shoulder. "Wake up. My watch is over. Do you want to stay here for the next one?"

He raised his head blearily, almost said yes, then remembered. "No. Luke said he'd take it."

Leia had already started for the shelter. Han blinked in the dark, a flinty blackness that held no trace of the romance from an hour ago, and scrambled to his feet. "Did you see anything?"

She threw him a look over her shoulder. "No. Obviously."

Right. Whatever truce had existed between them earlier had seemingly evaporated now. He followed her into the cabin and stumbled around the discarded packs on the way to his bunk. Flopping onto his back, he closed his eyes and tried in vain to escape this ever-weary existence and enter again into a dreamscape of happier times.

A week later he ran into her again.

Chewie had been demanding yet again to know what the plan was, if they were ever going to do anything about Jabba, and Han hadn't known what to say. He was forced to acknowledge, if only to himself, that he didn't actually have a plan; not yet anyway. Their limited options would have haunted him day and night if he hadn't pushed them away so determinedly.

So it was both a relief and not a relief to find Leia pacing the ring corridor when he returned to his ship for the night.

"What's up?" He aimed for casual nonchalance, landed wide of the mark. "How are the new pilots settling in?"

"Fine. Luke and Wedge have been getting them up to speed on all of our protocols." Leia straightened her posture as if to ward off further small talk. "I have a question for you."

He blinked. "Shoot."

"If we were to send five, maybe six, ships to a rendezvous on Hellas, would we have a better chance of success jumping there directly or flying through the Darner Zone?"

Han considered the scenario for a moment. Hellas was a well-known setting of pro-independence uprisings, however undisciplined those uprisings might be. All kinds of commodities, legal and otherwise, were traded throughout their network of orbital bases, and nearly half of those were intercepted by the Imperial-leaning government. Precise monitoring systems were in place to guard against unwanted visitors jumping in to do a quick offload of their goods. Ships wishing to avoid interference and go the sub-light route were challenged by the surrounding debris fields that was constantly expanding due to targeted demolitions of those same bases.

"I'd go the way of the Zone," he said slowly. "But it depends on which pilots you're planning to send."

Leia nodded. "That's why we would only assign a few ships. We know we would need the best yet can't risk depleting the fleet further."

Han crossed his arms and focused over her head. "Last time I flew that way, the route toward the southern pole had the fewest impediments. They'll need to stay in tight formation until they hit the densest part of the field and then re-form at the planet-side edge," he added. "I assume you'll have someone on the bases looking out for them?"

"We're working on that part now. I'm less worried about the clearance than I am about the approach."

"Well, why don't I talk them through it from here? Or I can lead them myself."

Leia shook her head. "The Falcon's too recognizable."

"No, I mean in one of the X-wings."

That earned him a pause. "I don't think we can spare an extra craft. Besides, we won't be executing for another few weeks."

"That's fine."

A longer pause this time. "I see." She was looking at him guardedly. "It would appear that our assessments have reached similar conclusions. I appreciate your candid opinion regarding the strategic options."

"Uh-huh." Slipping into diplo-speak was a sure sign Leia was flustered. Han hadn't failed to notice that they had migrated closer to each other during their conversation. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss while you're here?"

"Like what?"

"You tell me. Pilot rosters, supply inventories, base gossip." He risked a grin. "How's Vaxx? Has he made any progress with his royal courtship?"

"You know he hasn't."

"I do, do I."

"Yes." Leia jutted her chin at him. "Why must you be so difficult?"

"You wouldn't like it if I were easy."

"I wouldn't know since you refuse to try."

"I could be persuaded to give it a go." He straightened his back as if under regimental scrutiny and adopted a subservient tone. "Yes, Your Highness. Whatever you need, Your Highness. No complaints from me, Your Highness, none whatsoever."

Leia glared at him. "You're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Is that so?" Han couldn't help himself. "I know I've made you laugh before." He jerked his head in the direction of his cabin. "It happened right over there in case you've forgotten."

A pained expression flitted across her face and a sinking sensation settled in Han's gut. Maybe he wasn't thinking through this line of attack carefully enough; hell, maybe he wasn't thinking much of anything through these days. How long would he risk upending everything real in his life in exchange for a cheap shot? What consequences had his tactics wrought and was it too late to repair the damage?

Those thoughts were still churning when he felt her hands on his shoulders and then her lips soft against his. Shock and relief and desire jolted him back to action and he wound his arm around her back and deepened the kiss. For a split-second she was pliant and warm and the part of him not utterly in thrall decided that whatever you need, Your Highness, was no longer a sarcastic rejoinder ago but a newborn promise that resonated throughout his entire being.

Leia employed surprising strength in separating herself before turning and marching toward the ramp. The look she left him was not angry exactly, but defiant and wary and perhaps a touch triumphant.

Han was still rooted in place when Luke rounded the corner holding the transceiver diagnostic kit he had borrowed that morning.

"I just saw Leia leave in a huff," he commented. "Is she mad at you or something?"

Han took the kit and stared at the empty space through which the Princess had passed. "Or something."