Shoot first. Kill it, if you have to (Time Travel, Han Solo Style)

By Indygodusk

Chapter 7 - Do what you do well

Falling to the floor, Han curled up and tried to protect his head as kicks rained down on his prone body. At the first break, he rolled, tripping his Rodian attacker and jumping on top of him. Han almost had him in a headlock when he was kicked in the side by the Rodian's mate. Female Rodians were even meaner than the males and this one was no exception. She'd have gotten him between the legs with her second kick if he hadn't twisted at the last moment. Han hit the edge of the porch and broke through the railing. Slamming onto the ground after a small drop, Han groaned. He'd probably be peeing blood for a week after that.

Staggering to his feet and turning to run, he found himself nose-to-nose with Anakin Skywalker.

"Gah!" Han cried, jumping back and almost tumbling down again.

"Why are you letting them kick you around?" Anakin asked, looking down his nose at Han.

"Hey," Han panted as he turned tail and ran away while the Rodian couple was still busy cooing at each other, "I wasn't just letting them kick me around. You missed the part where I was fighting back."

Anakin sniffed and pursed his lips. "No, I didn't. Your fighting skills are pathetic. I could wrestle better as a nine-year-old slave boy."

"Maybe you shouldn't have made me so old then," Han said in a familiar complaint.

"Just when I think my opinion of you can't possibly get any lower." Anakin shook his head and easily kept pace with Han by jogging alongside, though Han noticed that his boots didn't touch the road. "Youth wouldn't help someone like you, though really, I don't know if anything would."

Han ducked into the first alley he found and cut through to a busy thoroughfare, slowing down and trying to blend in with the evening crowds of mixed sentients browsing the local storefronts and food carts. Catching his breath, he pressed a hand against his aching side and sent the ghost next to him a sour look. "Are you actually here to be helpful or just to laugh at my suffering?"

"Oh, to laugh at you, old man," Anakin said with a smirk. "Most assuredly."

Han was about to snap out a reply when he was almost bowled over by a Besalisk. The four-armed alien was almost seven feet tall with brown skin, small yellow eyes, and a wide, downturned mouth above a pointed black beard and long wattle that was currently half-inflated and rattling with distemper. He wore several layers of sleeveless brown tunics and a wide belt with two long tubes on either hip that looked like they might be some type of lightsaber. Anyone who didn't move out of his way fast enough was flung aside by the careless sweep of his lower arms.

"Charming fellow. One of your Jedi friends?" Han asked archly. "I can see the resemblance."

Smirk twisting into a snarl, Anakin glared after the Basilisk and spat, "Pong Krell."

Humming thoughtfully, Han looked between the Force ghost and the back of the Besalisk pushing his way down the street. Han wondered if Pong Krell was rushing somewhere on Jedi business, but then he stopped in front of a food cart and stopped to demand a skewer of the local meat, so the only emergency seemed to be about hunger. "Did he steal your girlfriend or ship?"

"Neither," Anakin said through gritted teeth. "He went to the Dark Side and got a lot of clone troopers killed during the war through carelessness, contempt, and fear, especially on Umbara when he took over and betrayed Captain Rex and my 501st to the Separatists in the hope of catching Dooku's attention to save himself. "

"I didn't think Vader much cared about things like that, having done worse himself."

"Vader didn't," Anakin bit out, crossing his arms over his chest as he chewed on a thought, the muscle in his jaw throbbing. Finally, he spoke again. "Anakin Skywalker did though. He cared a lot."

"Okay, if you say so," Han said doubtfully, hooking a thumb behind his belt and squinting after Pong Krell, who'd inhaled his first two skewers and was already working on a third. He tore into the meat with a gusto that was frankly rather disturbing. "A Darksider, huh? And he almost killed Rex? I liked Rex." Looking back at Anakin, he offered, "You want me to shoot him?"

Eyes narrowing in consideration, Anakin finally sighed, shook his head, and turned away so he wasn't looking at the Besalisk anymore. "No, we need to stay focused. Palpatine's got a secret lab on this planet."

"Doesn't he everywhere?" Han asked with disgust, dusting his hands off on his pants.

"Not after the last few years," Anakin said with a proud smirk. "Because of our efforts, this lab has become a central hub. His Sith Acolyte is in charge and his scientists have just made a vital breakthrough in adding midi-chlorians to cloned embryos that Palpatine needs if he's going to revive himself in a clone body after death." He sent Han a side-eyed glance and winked. "Or in one of his clones' offspring like that Rey girl my grandson's so taken with."

"He's my son, not your grandson," Han grumbled. "Call him Ben. You don't even know him."

Anakin stuck his nose in the air. "Not true. We had several deep conversations after he died, you just weren't around for that. When it comes to Ben, it seems like you've often not been around." He sent Han a superior and judgemental little look that made Han's trigger finger quiver to do something about it, even though he'd proven time and time again that shooting the ghost was pointless.

Huffing, Han stalked away down the street, confident the ghost would follow but half-hoping he wouldn't. No such luck. Anakin loped after him and quickly caught back up.

Han sighed to himself. The sooner they cooperated the sooner the ghost would leave him alone again. "Okay, what's the plan for this lab you want me to destroy, Mr. Strategist? Because the last mission you sent me on involved too many explosions, too much running, and the loss of my eyebrows." He stopped and put his finger in Anakin's face, brow furrowing. "They just barely grew back!"

"Wait, wasn't that mission just yesterday?" Brow wrinkling, Anakin looked Han up and down and scratched his chest, peering at his regrown eyebrows in confusion. "They look fine to me."

"Yester—NO! That was weeks ago, you idiot!" Huffing, Han threw his hands into the air. "I'm not doing it that way again, I mean it!"

"Fine, but fewer explosions means we have to go to Plan B," Anakin grumbled. "Though I'm not sure you can pull it off now that I see you again." Eyes narrowing, his head tilted. "You're too skinny and pale. Have you forgotten that eating and sleeping are important? You need to take better care of yourself."

"What?" Han blinked at the ghost in surprise. "Are you being nice to me?"

Shoulders hunching, Anakin looked away, his ghost flickering. "I-I just meant that your pitiful performance fighting with the Rodian couple earlier didn't fill me with a lot of confidence." Tossing his hair back, he turned back to Han with a sneer. "You need to be in top shape to destroy Sidious's lab before the scientists can report their results, but it's well-guarded by the Sith Acolyte. On Tatooine, you were seconds away from being knifed in the back when you lucked into that speeder and escaped, but the Sith Acolyte knows your face and has a vendetta. He'll kill you if he can."

"Like he wouldn't be trying to kill me either way," Han grumbled, annoyed he'd let himself think Anakin cared. "Which one was the Acolyte that day, the gang leader in the green hat?" Han searched his fuzzy memories. It was crazy to think it had been almost two years since he'd arrived in this time. It was crazy he hadn't gone more crazy after being insulted, stalked by, and ordered around by Anakin Skywalker for so long.

He really was going to shoot that guy someday.

Anakin shook his head. "No, not the gang leader. The Sith Acolyte was the one wearing gray matte armor and a black cloak inscribed with Sith glyphs in scarlet blood ink."

Groaning, Han rubbed his face. "That guy? He was a lot more scary than the rest of them, but surely he's forgotten all about me since then. It's been years."

"You destroyed an irreplaceable Sith holocron—with my help of course. Not only should that have been impossible for someone like you since they're built to last for millennia, but it also must've gotten the Acolyte punished severely. Sidious is not forgiving of failure. To be honest, I was a bit shocked to find him still alive, much less sane enough to function still. Don't underestimate his threat level. He's a Dark being who delights in suffering and cruelty. He hoards grudges and violent thoughts like small children hoard candy and is just as messy when playing with his food."

Clucking his tongue, Han crossed his arms and shook his head at Anakin to hide how uneasy he was suddenly feeling. "You're sick, bringing children and candy into this discussion. Why are you like this? Kenobi might chop off your arm, but at least he'd do it with a classy quip. I bet your mother didn't raise you to be this way."

Anakin growled like a mad dog and Han had to fight to keep from cowering back. "Well, I'm not Obi-Wan—and don't you dare bring my mother into this!"

If Han were smart, he'd back down. Instead, he bared his teeth in a toothy smile. Leia had often accused him of arguing just to be contrary, but she was even worse. "You mean the mother who's only still alive because of me?"

"You're only still alive because of me."

Han scoffed. "Yeah right."

Anakin looked down his nose at Han. "I question your competence. With the Sith Acolyte from Tatooine here, I'm no longer sure that you can complete such a minor mission as destroying Sidious's cloning lab without a fatal error."

"Hey!" Han crossed his arms and raised his chin. "I'd like to see you do better, pal, except, oh wait! You don't have a body and are basically powerless!" Holding out his hands, he snorted in disgust and resumed walking, ignoring the wide-eyed, wary stares from other pedestrians who only saw him arguing with himself.

"I'm more powerful than you could possibly imagine," Anakin said coldly.

Han gave him a fake smile over his shoulder. "I'll have to take your word for it…since imagination is all I have to go on with you." Han didn't bother waiting for Anakin's reaction, turning and strolling away.

As they passed behind Pong Krell, the Besalisk threw back his head and released a thunderous belch. Han winced, swearing he could feel the sonic boom jabbing painfully at each of his bruises and stabbing his eardrums. Patting his poor kidneys gingerly as he moved, he glanced over at the store window and saw the reflection of Pong Krell's head rising above the crowd just behind his own, making them look for a strange moment like a single being with two heads and six arms.

The slogan on the window said, "Do what you do well!" in Galactic Basic. Han blinked at it. Read it again. Grinned. Sometimes, he amazed even himself. Not only was he naturally handsome, but he was also devilishly clever.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Anakin asked warily.

"I have a better idea for attacking the lab," Han said. "Plan C: I don't get killed and we send someone else to do the job."

"Someone like who?" Anakin asked, one eyebrow arching in challenge as he put a hand on his hip. "Because that sounds like you being useless with classic Solo laziness and cowardice."

Placing a hand on his chest, Han gave him an exaggerated look of offense. "The only thing classic about this Solo is his charm."

Anakin responded with a flat, unimpressed look.

Han rubbed his hands together and pivoted, gesturing with a flourish across the street to Pong Krell's wide back. The Besalisk had moved to a new food cart and was examining a different flavor of bun in each of his four hands. "I present to you Plan C: If Pong Krell wants to kill clones, I say we let him."

Brow furrowing and expression darkening, Anakin leaned forward and opened his mouth.

Han didn't have the time or patience for that. "Ah!" Raising his hand flat in front of the ghost's mouth, Han looked around casually to ensure they were alone and mostly unobserved before leaning forward to whisper. "Not Rex and your oh-so-precious clone troopers. We trick the Darksider and use him to destroy the cloning lab for us. We record the whole thing, share it with the authorities, and then sit back and watch him simultaneously be hunted by Palpatine, the creepy Sith Acolyte—if he survives—and the Jedi Order."

Anakin blinked at him silently. "Yeah," he breathed as his lips curved up into a wide and wicked smile. "I take it back, you aren't completely useless. I like it. I like it a lot." He clenched his hand into a fist in front of his chest and flashed his teeth. "But let's still bring some explosives along while we watch, just in case they're needed."

"You and your explosions," Han said, rolling his eyes with a smile.

Han did as Anakin asked, but in the end, the explosives weren't needed. Everything went even better than hoped as the cloning lab was left a bubbling ruined sinkhole due to Krell's use of some exotic mud bomb that reacted badly with the local environment. The evil scientists were destroyed in the crossfire between the Dark Jedi and the Sith Acolyte and Han didn't even have to call the authorities because they showed up on their own and tried to arrest the duelists, though they did retreat when they realized how overmatched they were. Han didn't blame them.

He wanted to keep watching to see if his luck would hold and the two would kill each other, but he got spotted by the Rodian couple and had to run or risk getting a broken rib to match his bruised kidneys.

"Good job, Solo. See you tomorrow," Anakin said with a casual salute before he disappeared.

"So next month then, considering your sense of time," Han said wryly as he put his hands in his pockets and slowed to a stroll as he entered the building hosting the main spaceport. "That's fine. I'm not in any rush to reunite with you anyway."