[NOTE: Despite funky roleplay dates, this scene should be considered to be
complete and all in time before any subsequent logs.]

Log Date:
	6/16/97, 6/24, 6/27, 7/17/97

Log Cast:
	Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa-Solo, Han Solo, Winter, Chewbacca

Log Intro:
	Although Han Solo has rapidly regained health of both body and mind 
ever since his friend Luke has helped him squelch his recurring nightmares, 
and Han's natural restlessness has started making him bored with quiet days of 
inactivity, two major problems remain with his state of existence: his
missing friend Chewbacca, and his missing ship. It has been troubling Han
deeply enough that fears that Chewie might really be dead, and that even if 
he weren't, Han wouldn't be able to accomplish anything to help him, have kept 
the Corellian uncharacteristically hesitant, torn between blasting off to Etti 
IV - and staying in safety with his wife. Leia has begun to lose a fair amount 
of her own stress, with her husband's improvement; she retains much concern 
over both him and the missing Wookiee, though, and while she has begun 
resuming her own normal workload, she's been surreptitiously seeking out any 
reports she can get on the Chewbacca situation herself.
	More like himself now, Han has begun to burn off energy by combing 
Coral City, and two encounters with Ariana Millikin, an officer who'd served 
under him in the strike force Han had led to Endor, have given him an 
opportunity to unleash a little frustration, as the young woman has proven to 
be perplexing and maddening in her seemingly contradictory behavior to him. He 
has, further, begun checking his backlogged communications, trying to 
reestablish his presence amongst the NR in general. But distractions are 
simply that, and no distraction Han's found so far has managed to keep 
Chewbacca and the _Falcon_ off his mind for very long....

----------
A knock sounds on your door.

Princess Leia and Han Solo's Quarters(#6069RhntA)
The main room of this private suite is decorated in soft shades of white and 
  beige, and the lighting is a subtle glow that chases off the shadows without 
  being harshly bright. Two plush chairs surround a table of dark, refined 
  wood that rests beside a large open window that looks out upon the oceans of 
  Calamari. The floor is carpeted to match the decor, and to muffle footsteps 
  throughout the suite; the center of the floor, however, is covered with a 
  soft, shaggy rug in assorted shades of grey and tan. A side corridor leads 
  off to the more private rooms of the suite; the most apparent exit is the 
  door leading back out into the base.
                 -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Real Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> Leia
=> Threepio
                  -=-=-=-=-=<<Visible exits>>=-=-=-=-=-
 <M>aster Bedroom leads to Master Bedroom.
 <G>uest Room leads to Guest Room.
 <O>ut leads to Waiting To Be Linked.

The sentries keeping an eye on the Solo suite seem rather more relaxed than the
  last time Luke Skywalker came this way; tonight, they allow him through 
  readily, and it doesn't take very long before the young Jedi's knock is 
  answered by Han's voice calling out through the wall comm, "It's open."

Luke enters the suite from outside.
Luke has arrived.
Luke looks at you for a moment.

Leia steps in quietly from the bedroom as she hears the knock on the door, and 
  as her eyes light on the face of the entrant, she exclaims with a soft smile 
  and equally soft tone, "Luke!"

Han is on his feet, and he turns to the door when it swishes open to admit his 
  younger friend. The Corellian is clearly restless, if the subtle signs of 
  his demeanor are any indication; he half-smiles, though, at the Jedi's 
  arrival. "Hiya, kid," he murmurs.

Luke smiles widely, nearly beaming. "You look much better Han." Instinctively 
  he approaches Leia giving her a warm hug. They exchange a wordless glance, 
  Luke's eyes sparkling. He turns around peering at his old friend and lets 
  out a short chuckle, "Heck, the last time I saw you, you looked like Chew.." 
  he catches himself, amused expression falling flat. Wincing, he makes an 
  apologetic face.

Han does stiffen, his hazel eyes flicking across the room for a moment, before 
  he plasters on a not-quite-sincere crooked grin. "Yeah, well. I, uh, slept."

Leia winces as well at Luke's verbal slip, casting a glance to Han to gauge 
  his reaction before she turns eyes of brown back to Luke and her quiet voice 
  inquires, "Where have you been keeping yourself? It's been a while since you 
  stopped by or got in touch."

Luke inhales audibly, "Ahh.. Ackbar had me come all the way out to Sluis Van. 
  Only to tell me he didn't want anyone speaking with the prisoners." He 
  shrugs, "Wasted trip if you ask me."

Han lifts both his eyebrows. "What's goin' on on Sluis Van, Luke? I got some 
  kinda message... somebody named Langston."

Luke frowns, "Well, some Imperial Moff defected, or.. more realistically was 
  brought to us. I didn't find out all of the details. Supposedly he's the guy 
  who runs Bespin now, Lando might be interested. Lofton I think. Anyway, they 
  had another prisoner, someone named Nerik who I met on Tatooine when we were 
  meeting with Grathix." he eyes Han carefully, "You know him?"

Leia moves over towards the couch, motioning to it while looking to Luke as if 
  a silent suggestion that he might want to sit; with a flowing motion she 
  softly sits upon the piece of furniture, smoothing out her robe as she does 
  so.

Han blinks, then frowns. "Don't know that particular goon, no." Still 
  frowning, he adds, "I hear somethin' about Wedge Antilles, too, kid."

Luke sits as if verbally asked, "Wedge?" he asks intrigued.

Winter enters the suite from outside.
Winter has arrived.
The door opens with a silent sweep and a rather familar woman stands within 
  the frame.

Luke is sitting on the couch, looking curiously at Han as if waiting for him 
  to say something.

Han remains standing, and not only standing, but pacing. "All I know is this 
  Langston guy says he's got some kind of information, kid." Hooking his 
  thumbs in his belt, the Corellian appends, "Didn't say nothin' else." As 
  Winter enters, though, Han looks around, startled.

Winter speaks in her soft formal tone, "Hello your highness, General, 
  Commander." She looks to the assembled with a rather reserved stature, as if 
  not wanting terribly to disturb.

Luke glances at Winter, but seems distracted by Han's words. He sighs, looking 
  at the coffee table, "Well I asked them to send an agent to Etti.. perhaps 
  they've found something." He looks up at the Corellian, squinting slightly, 
  "He wouldn't tell you?"

Leia sits on the couch, her gaze floating unobtrusively between brother and 
  husband before a motion at the door causes her head to turn; the smooth 
  motion shifts her eyes to rest upon the figure emerging and Leia offers a 
  quiet nod of greeting to the woman who has arrived.

Han flicks a distracted nod at Winter and a smirk at Luke. "No. Just claimed I 
  might be interested. Maybe 'cause Wedge's Corellian, I dunno. Seems people I 
  don't know're makin' a habit of sendin' me messages these days..." He 
  scowls, at nothing in particular, and keeps pacing.

Luke eyes his old friend, "..and you?" he says softly, "What are your plans 
  Han.. I mean.." another downcast gaze.

Winter inclines her head to Leia and with a silent step, enters and sits to 
  the side of the conversation group, quietly listening to the topic she has 
  stumbled upon.

"Some kid, another one I don't know, actually asked me if I'd let him have the 
  _Falcon's_ 'special modifications'" -- these last two words are delivered by 
  Han in a drawl and with another smirk -- "for CorpOps vessels. I dunno, kid, 
  I dunno..."
Looking like he's not quite sure whether he wants to burst out laughing or 
  punch something, Han pauses by the windows, glowering out into the evening.

Luke stares at Han's back, then to Leia.. searching for any indication from 
  her about Han's mental or emotional state. He mouths the words, 'Is he ok?'

As the talk draws on, a cup of spiced paricha, a mug of cocoa and a cup of 
  coffee, inbibed with a shot of Corellian whiskey appear respectively beside 
  you. No sound is made other than a quiet "Pardon" as each is set by Winter.

Leia frowns softly as she watches Han by the window; without turning her head 
  fully to Luke she offers a slight nod that's accompanied with the most 
  imperceivable of shrugs, her expression tightening just a bit.

"Han." Luke says reaching for one of the placed mugs, "If you want to go to 
  Etti, that would be alright you know." he takes a cautious sip, eyeing Solo 
  over the rim.

If Leia's expression had tighened before, that was nothing to how it tightened 
  at the mention of Han and Etti. She casts a sharp glance to Luke, one 
  clearly caught between shushing him for even mentioning the idea and knowing 
  this might be the only way to make Han feel better, despite the large risk 
  it would run.

Winter in a very uncharacteristic moment, stiffens at the mention of that, her 
  emerald eyes becoming almost..racked with some painful surge of emotion. 
  Save for a sharp, quick breath, she holds from saying anything.

"Me and what ship, kid?" Han asks, strangely plaintively, without turning 
  around.

"You and whatever ship we can scrounge up." Luke says, leaning toward 
  defiantly. He sighs again, "I dunno.. I just want things to be back to 
  normal. Ya know?"

Han flicks a look over his broad shoulder, his brow furrowed under a few loose 
  strands of his dark hair; it's gotten longer in the six months he's been 
  away from his mate and his friends, and although he's taken the time to get 
  himself a decent shave, he hasn't yet bothered to trim down the shaggy mop 
  that frames his face. He frowns, and fixes his hazel gaze on Luke. "Yeah, 
  kid," he mutters awkwardly, "I know."

Leia's eyes quietly plead her brother to be cautious with his words as she 
  continues to flicker comforting looks to her husband by the window.

Luke catches Leia's look and nods silently, "Well.. you do what you have to 
  Han." Luke replies inadequately.

Winter looks to her dear childhood friend, and reads the worry and stress that 
  has etched her royal visage in these years. A small frown falls upon her 
  lips and she silently withdraws to the kitchen area a moment to set her 
  teacup aside.

Luke stands sipping at his cup still. He runs a hand through his hair, "I 
  mean.. you look much better, but it's obvious to me and everyone else that 
  you don't feel like yourself. I know you feel much -more- like yourself than 
  before, but.." He paces a step toward Han, "We're just worried about you, 
  that's all." he says softly.

With Winter having slipped into the kitchen -- one less pair of eyes on him 
  -- Han seems slightly less awkward. But just slightly. He plasters on a 
  rather larger, but forced, lopsided grin, and tells Luke airily, "Hey... 
  it's me, kid, right? Pull myself up by my Bloodstripes, and all that? I'm 
  fine... really!"

Luke sips his mug detractedly and nods, "I know Han.." he breathes out. 
  Flicking a gaze at Leia he affords a minute shrug.

Winter returns after a time from the kitchen, her visage once more set to the 
  calm, almost cold masque. She arches a slender brow at the corellian's 
  attempt at persuasion of everything being alright and sits once again in the 
  shadow of Leia.

The comm system of the room makes a pleasant beep as a light blinks on the 
  console in the room. Leia glances up and makes a slight motion to any who 
  might catch the gesture for them to stay put as she rises from the couch, 
  pristene robes of white swirling about her frame as she moves towards the 
  bedroom. A moment later, the blinking and insistant light on the comm 
  steadies to a solid glow, and just a moment after that, the light goes out.. 
  and Leia remains quietly out of sight, still yet to emerge from the bedroom 
  she disappeared into.

Threepio pipes up from his chair at the back, muttering at his lowest volume 
  setting, "We should all just face the fact that poor Chewbacca met his 
  untimely fate. Pity that.. I rather liked the furry beast.."

Standing at the doorway into Leia and .... and Han's apartment, Chewie stps 
  for the first time since he arrived on Calamari, as there are two guards at 
  the door. His mind registers their presence only to the degree that he 
  doesn't want to hurt them in his hurry to get past them. _Leia's got to be 
  here, maybe she's heard something, hopefully she'll forgive me .... but what 
  if she isn't? What is she hasn't? What if she has and he's ....._ The 
  Wookiee's mind as been running in this fevered track ever since he made it 
  off of God's forsaken planet. Running on nerves and adrenalin now, the 
  Wookiee limps forward and takes one look at the two guards before letting 
  out a roar of frustration, expecting them to obediently scatter like 
  misbehaving cubs.

The sentries snap both their heads up -- and gape. The blue-eyed lieutenant 
  and the grey-eyed ensign simultaneously blurt, "Colonel!" at the Wookiee, 
  before they do, in fact, scatter out of the way. They know a Wookiee With a 
  Mission when they see one.

And inside the suite, Han, a scowl erupting across his lean face, turns 
  around to See Threepio, snapping his index finger forth at the droid as he 
  barks, "Nobody asked you, Goldenrod!"

Luke sighs, tossing the droid a coddling look, "Threepio, please.."

Chewbacca slams his paw onto the door panel, roaring at it as well, in case 
  the mechanical device should consider trying to delay him any further.

Winter stands and looks towards Leia's movements with a growing concern.

The door slides open, as if it, too, was in a hurry to get out of the 
  Wookiee's way.

The golden droid startles somewhat, "Well it's true Captain Solo.. I miss him 
  too, he was.. delicate in his own odd way.." If droids could sigh, Threepio 
  would. "I'll miss him..." he murmurs.

Another visitor? Grumpy now, and fretful, Han whirls on the door that dares 
  to interrupt the beginnings of what promises to be a fine little tirade at 
  Threepio... and stops dead as the door's opening allows the latter half of 
  Chewbacca's roar into the room.

Stumbling inside, Chewbacca catches himself as the leg nearly buckles. His 
  fangs bared, he raises his head to look around, half blazing determination, 
  half shame and contrition. He stops, taking in the room for a moment and 
  then blinks, confused.

Luke turns sharply, hand flexing toward the hilt of his saber at the unknown 
  enemy forcing it's way into the suite. Senses tingling, eyes wide and 
  searching he ponders how quickly he can cut down the massive behemoth 
  shadowing the door. As quickly as these thoughts enter his head, another one 
  forces its way in, "Chewie!" he exclaims.

Almost as suddenly as Winter moves to assist her friend, the clamor of the 
  arrival of the Wookiee causes her to spin about in her tracks at the sound, 
  she is quite beyond words and looks upon the long missing wookiee with a 
  very curious, un-Winter look to her face.

Threepio lets out a wail, promptly falling off of his chair to land 
  un-ceremoniously on the floor with a series of clangs.

Spotting Han above all others, all of the wear and strain drains from 
  Chewbacca's hairy form. He rushes at the Corellian with a roar of 
  astonishment and joy, grabbing up his partner in a hug just short of 
  rib-cracking, letting out a wild howl.

Winter calls out, "Your highness!"

Luke steps out of the path of the Wookiee, beaming from ear to ear. His 
  thoughts now on Han and the reunion he's witnessing. "Thank the Force.." he 
  murmurs, his hand dropping from the saber hilt. He lets out a pleasant 
  breath of relief.

Han Solo remains frozen in shock by the windows, looking suddenly thirty 
  years younger as his hazel eyes go round, his brain refusing to register 
  who's just entered the suite. Only when he's suddenly swept up off his feet 
  does it occur to him that he really _is_ seeing his partner, and the hugest 
  grin Han is capable of producing makes a sudden supernova across his face. 
  "Chewie," he croaks breathlessly.

Leia cracks the door to the bedroom and glances in the room quietly with an 
  assured and knowing smile turning the corners of her mouth, eyes of brown 
  glittering with inner joy at watching the reunion. She takes just a step or 
  two inside before closing the door back behind her and clasping her hands 
  before her.

Han's arms wrap around the Wookiee almost as if he'd like to hug the big 
  being with the same force Chewie's muscular embrace has about him. "What the 
  nine hells took you so long, pal?" he rasps out huskily, looking 
  suspiciously damp about the eyes. And not relaxing his hold on Chewbacca in 
  the slightest.

Winter steps back from the reunion, knowing how rather dangerous an excited, 
  angry or happy a wookiee might be inadvertantly. She looks upon the scene, 
  etching within a memory filled with so much pain, another fleeting moment of 
  pure, untarnished joy. A soft smile finds it way to her face and in her 
  emerald eyes a touching glimmer of wetness.

Chewbacca murfles apologetically, not releasing his friend for an instant. He 
  wonders if he will ever be able to let go of him again. He sighs, rowling 
  affectionately "Han, it's -you- .... you're here ... you're -here-!"

Threepio clambers to his feet exclaiming, "Why Chewbacca! I -knew- you were 
  alive!"

"Shut up, Goldenrod," Han mumbles, but it's purely reflex, as the Corellian 
  clings to his friend and copilot like a five-year-old clutching a favorite, 
  and much larger, toy.

Drawing back from Han fractionally, the Wookiee's face clouds at his friends 
  gentle jibe. Words spoken in jest, but with deadly accuracy. "I had to get 
  the Falcon before I could find you, right?" he grolphs, hoping that by 
  getting the ship, perhaps he can attone in some small degree for his 
  mistakes.

Luke, smiling from ear to ear and looking for something, anything to hug, 
  grabs his sister up, whirling her around him, "He's alive.. he's alive.." he 
  whispers to her. He stops to watch the two and chuckle at Han's remark to 
  Threepio.

Han's head snaps up. It had perhaps seemed before that his face could not 
  light up any further, but somehow, it manages, as his smile threatens to 
  light up the entire room by itself, and his eyes get even more suspiciously 
  wet. "You got 'er, pal?" he breathes.

Leia has to work to keep the laugh ensuing her whirling quiet as to not 
  disturb the reunion, a beaming smile on her face as she nods shortly a few 
  times to her brother, whispering, "I know."

His eyes still dark with traces of shame, Chewie nods slowly. "They may have 
  a lot of guards on Etti IV, but they must not pay them much, because they 
  couldn't guard a Bantha's netherhole if it was sitting right on 'em." The 
  Wookiee shifts his weight to his other leg, as the broken one twinges 
  sharply. Still, he is unwilling to sit, to even release his friend, his 
  bright blue eyes growing slightly damp despite himself. "You're here .... 
  you're okay ... you're," and glancing at Han, Chewie frowns, "you don't look 
  so good partner ... any one give you a rough time while I was busy?"

Winter smiles to herself, for once in a long while quite happy. She enters 
  the kitchen and sets about preparing some food as she can see this should 
  prove to be quite a long evening and is sure that Chewbacca is hungry.

"I'm okay!" Han swears, and for the first time since he's been returned to 
  Calamari, he actually looks it. "I'm okay, pal, I'm okay... _you_ need a 
  bath, fuzzball! Dirty Wookiee fur, oh man...!" His words come out ragged and 
  husky, still, though, and despite Chewbacca's obvious filthy state, Han has 
  yet to release him.

Winter with a efficient precision sets the replicators to work as well as 
  having some fresh food brought up to the room. She returns and wrinkles her 
  nose as the pungent odor of unkempt wookiee is noticed for the first time.
Winter hmms softly to herself, "Perhaps COlonel Chewbacca would care to 
  freshen up while I have the food brought up?" Her tone bearing that subtle 
  charm, yet firmness that she wields so well.

Chewbacca shnorfles thoughtfully. "Corinth threatened to give me a bath ... 
  but I told her I had more important things to do ..." He gives Han a toothy 
  grin and holds up his hand, offering fingers one at a time to enumerate. 
  "One, get the Falcon back. Two, find you, my friend, my partner, my reason 
  for living. Three, eat. Four, get you drunk!" The final option is released 
  on a roar of delight and he crushes Han to him again, ruffling the 
  scoundrel's hair furiously, knowing how much he hates to be "scruffy".

Winter looks to Chewbacca with a rather uncanny understanding, "Colonel, it 
  would be excellent for you and General Solo to get quite drunk, but I would 
  think perhaps tending to your current state might be beneficial.."

"Whoa, hey!" yelps the Corellian, around a choked burst of giddy laughter. "I 
  got whiskey, Chewie..."

Luke turns to Leia, "I think I'll let these two get reacquainted again. Like 
  old times." Again an ear to ear smile envelopes his face. He cranes his neck 
  at Chewbacca, "Chewie.. it's nice to see you're alright." he says gently, 
  slipping away from Leia and flashing Han a wink as he approaches the door. 
  "Tell me all about your adventures tomorrow?"

Winter nods her head to Luke as he leaves.

Casting a glance up to Luke, the Wookiee whurfles affectionately. "You got it 
  Luke ... if you -really- want to hear about it ... pretty dull stuff, I warn 
  you." He flashes the Jedi a fanged grin.

Leia smiles and nods to Luke as he heads out, and she takes a few steps back 
  towards the door of the bedroom, resting a hand on the knob casually without 
  ever looking away from the three near the door.

"I do." Luke says brightly. He ducks out the door quietly and pleased.

Winter looks to Leia, "Goodnight your highness, I am going to take my leave 
  as well.."

Thinking nobody's looking, Han buries his face against Chewie's broad chest; 
  only the Wookiee might be able to sense that Solo is shaking. But in 
  startlement and release of tension, rather than any sort of fright or panic.

Luke departs the suite.
Luke has left.

Leia turns and nods to Winter silently before opening the door to the 
  bedroom, pausing to watch Chewbacca and Han for a moment before slipping 
  into the bedroom and pulling the door quietly shut behind her.

Winter nods to you both, sets out a bottle of aged Smugglers Brandy and with 
  that takes her leave.

Leia steps into the master bedroom.
Leia has left.

Winter departs the suite.
Winter has left.

Chewbacca feels Han's subtly trembling form, and holds the man all the closer 
  for it, his eyes tearing up obviously as he drops his head atop his 
  partners, so as to hide the betraying wetness. He sighs softly, releases a 
  contented growl before murmuring, now that everyone has left, "I'm sorry 
  ...."

"They told me you were... gone, pal," Han whispers.

The Wookiee rumbles thoughtfully. "I didn't know -where- you would be ... it 
  took me so long, I made so many -stupid- decisions ... I didn't think Han, 
  it's all my fault .... I didn't leave you, I just couldn't get to you ..."

Without lifting his head from a furry chest, Han mumbles, "The Imps got me, 
  Chewie..."

The Wookiee's tall frame stiffens, recalling what happened the last time the 
  Imperials got their hands on his friend. He lets out a soft mournful whurf. 
  "Who's arms need to be ripped off?" he asks in a search for restitution and 
  forgiveness. Before waiting for Han's response, the Wookiee jerks away, the 
  pain of guilt cutting at him harshly. "I should have been there," he 
  shnarles, self critically, turning away from the friend that he failed in 
  his hour of need. He limps a few steps away.

Han promptly steps back to the Wookiee, reaching to turn him around. "Hey," 
  he says roughly, "don't kick yourself, pal... not now... it's okay..." His 
  words are awkward, but his eyes broadcast well enough the message he's 
  trying to get across. _You're back. That's all that's important._

_Later, I can kick myself more later ... do for the man what you failed to do 
  before_ the Wookiee chastises himself, and turning with a apologetic rolph, 
  he ducks his head, his blue gaze resting on Han with fierce joy. Dropping a 
  paw to Han's head, he ruffles the man's hair again. "Much better," he 
  wollers thoughtfully, with a fangful grin. "So we got the Falcon, I got you 
  ... you mind if I devour the food that Winter brought out?" he asks in 
  hopeful worffling tones.

"You're gonna make me all scruffy," Han mutters in protest, but mildly. Then 
  he smiles, lopsidedly. "Eat, pal. I'll get the glasses." He scoops up the 
  bottle of brandy Winter produced, not questioning where the woman got it 
  from -- she seems to have a knack that way, and right now he's not going to 
  worry about the origins of any booze in the vicinity, only its eventual 
  destination. Inside him. And Chewie.

The Wookiee seats himself, eyeing the food like he hasn't eaten in a month 
  ... cause in many respects, he hasn't. The fur hides how thin he's become. 
  Still Chewie holds back, turning to Han first. "So what happened?" he asks 
  carefully, angry with himself for shattering that rare and tender moment 
  between the two of them with his own selfish concerns. He eyes the Corellian 
  with a sharp watchful gaze. "Are you alright?"

Han can put on a blustering face to many beings in the galaxy, but Chewbacca 
  is very rarely one of them. The Corellian drops his gaze for a moment, mouth 
  quirking as he can't quite decide whether to grin or smirk; finally, he 
  admits, voice a little smaller than normal, "I'm fine, now!" The implication 
  is obvious enough: that he wasn't fine before.

The Wookiee narrows his gaze before rising and walking over to Han. He 
  reaches out with both paws to grip his shoulders. He cocks his head to one 
  side and murfling softly, murmurs, "I didn't think I was ever going to see 
  you again ... this time things seemed so much worse than usual ... guess the 
  odds have been stacking against us in retaliation for all those "easy" 
  escapes we pulled in the past, huh?"

Han has poured out a glass of the brandy now, and he pauses with it in one 
  hand and the bottle in the other as Chewbacca returns to stand before him. 
  The Corellian offers another wan grin, and answers, "We better not tell 
  nobody. We got a rep to maintain, pal."

The Wookiee considers his friend, recognizing that the moment is gone, but 
  knowing Han, will probably resurface later on at some point. Perhaps after 
  enough of that brandy is consumed. With a challenging grin, Chewbacca 
  reaches, pulling the bottle out of Han's grip and clinking it against the 
  Corellian's glass. "After I've eaten and drinken my fill, then my lips will 
  be sealed," he promises with a shnorling chuckle.

"Eat, pal," Han urges, nudging Chewie back towards the food; the smell of meat 
  is heavy in the air. Flopping down onto the couch, he adds anxiously, "And 
  what happened to _you_? You look worse 'n' I do!"

With a graceless whump, the leg aching despite his best efforts to ignore it. 
  He takes a generous swig from the bottle and then grabs a leg of Nerf, 
  ripping into it with his powerful jaws and fangs. He eats less than 
  delicately, now that the aromas are reaching his senses, his body is 
  reminded that it is half starved. He wolfs down the meat. He occasionally 
  stops long enough to wipe the juices from his mouth on his already stained 
  and bedraggled pelt. "Was going down," he rolfs between bites, "bailed out, 
  didn't use the ejector seat ... . figured it would be spotted and they'd 
  know I survived the crash ..... broke my fall and a leg in a nearby tree." 
  Each comment is made with a randomly casual shrug and in an uninterested 
  voice. Indeed, it is practically as if it never happened, for now that he 
  has Han, everything else is irrelevant.

Han takes all this in, listening intently as the Wookiee alternates between 
  barking out his replies and inhaling his meat and brandy. At last, his 
  lopsided grin dimmed down to a ghost of a smile, Han admits, "They told me 
  you were dead, pal..."

That didn't occur to the Wookiee ... of course they would have .... but he 
  figured that Han would still be a prisoner somewhere, if not dead himself 
  ... he wanted the NR to think him dead, so they wouldn't try some damn fool 
  rescue mission ... not like they were willing to do so for Han, but he'd 
  botched things up so badly to begin with that, well, hell, it seemed like a 
  good idea at the time! Frowning, Chewbacca wipes his arm across his mouth. 
  "I ... I didn't think of that," he admits, "I just didn't want anyone to 
  come looking for me, after I screwed everything up ... I didn't think, I 
  didn't know that you would be here, that ...." He rowls uncomfortably, 
  covering his distress at what Han must have thought, what he must have gone 
  through. If it had been half as much as what he had experienced .... The 
  furred arm reaches out once again to snatch up another limb, biting it with 
  feigned gusto to hide his true emotions from his partner.

Han sits there on the couch now, though, rolling the glass he holds back and 
  forth between his palms and eying the brandy within quietly. He begins, "I'm 
  the one who screwed up, pal..."

Chewbacca surges forward, dropping the meat back onto the platter. He growls 
  vehemently, not in anger at Han, but in frustation with himself. "It's my 
  fault that you were captured, and if I had just been a little smarter, I 
  could have gotten you out, but all I did was make things worse," he admits 
  in a rush of schnarls and grfs.

"Ahh, hell, pal, you just said your leg got busted, what'd you hit anyway, a 
  mountain?" It seems to Solo that only something that big could damage the 
  bones of his large furry friend, and he peers at Chewbacca's lower limbs 
  plaintively. Then, jerking a thumb at himself, he adds, "I shoulda come for 
  you the moment Ackbar told me what happened, nightmares and orders be 
  damned!"

That takes the furry co-pilot back for a moment, but he shakes his mane in 
  response. The leg is inconsequential, so that question isn't even responded 
  to. "For once in your life you obey orders, and I'm grateful," he rowls. "If 
  you'd come they would have caught you for sure, then they would have known I 
  was alive and probably have found me ... I'm wanted for murder there and 
  you're wanted period. They would have flayed us alive." The bright blue eyes 
  are somber in their regard and leaning over, Chewbacca drops one paw to 
  Han's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to suffer so my friend, so terribly sorry 
  I brought you this pain. I'd rather cut off my arm than do so."

Han looks up, hazel eyes turning suspiciously liquid. All at once he chugs 
  down the rest of his glass's contents, then clears his throat, and confesses 
  as straight-facedly as he can manage, "I was... a little worried about yah, 
  yeah, pal..." The poker face doesn't work with those liquid eyes, though.

The paw grips the shoulder it's resting on, tight. "I'm here, you're here, 
  we're together. Now is all that matters," replies the Wookiee sagely. Of 
  course it is wisdom he himself cannot quite master over his own guilt and 
  strain, but that doesn't make the words any less true. And, hopefully, they'll 
  be words enough to comfort and sustain his friend.

"I'll drink to that," replies Han, trying to smile again. He gestures for the 
  bottle of brandy, waving his glass at it.

Chewbacca refills Han's glass and clinks the bottle against it once again, 
  taking a hefty swallow himself. "So, you never told me what happened ..." he 
  rumbles softly, as he takes another bite. He deliberately keeps his tone 
  low, his mouth full, so if Han should not wish to answer, he can feign 
  misunderstanding the Wookiees mumbled question.

Han pauses in the middle of beginning to down the refill, then he deliberately 
  inhales a huge draught of it, before lowering the glass and letting out a 
  sigh. He attempts another lopsided grin, and tells his partner, "Well, the 
  Authority had me for... months. Real frekkin' dull in their cells, I can 
  tell yah, pal... they had to call in the Empire to liven up my life..."

Eating at a more sedate pace, but still eating, Chewbacca nods to indicate 
  that he is still listening, all ears, but is hesitant to interrupt for fear 
  of causing Han to close up, to bottle all of this inside of himself.

The Corellian pauses again, considering his words. Then, slugging down another 
  swallow of brandy, he says roughly, "The Empire's got themselves another 
  Darth Vader type, pal... he, uh, took me offa Etti IV."

That stops the eating cold. Placing the food back onto the platter, Chewie 
  bares his fangs in unconscious reaction to the thought of another "Vader". 
  "Why .... what did he do to you?!" His growls and grolphs are low and 
  dangerous, as all that comes to mind is what Vader did to all of his 
  friends, especially freezing Han in carbonite like some experimental lab 
  womprat.

To his consternation, Han realizes that, ever so slightly, his hands are 
  trembling around his glass. Annoyed at this realization, the Corellian 
  decides to steady them by finishing off the rest of what's in his glass; 
  only then does he allow himself to answer the Wookiee. Putting on a 
  mirthless wisp of a grin that wouldn't fool Chewie for an instant -- and is 
  not really intended to -- Han smirks a bit and replies, "_He_ didn't do
  nothing... much. Roughed me up a bit getting me from the Authority..." But
  he doesn't finish the sentence, and he still seems, at least subtly,
  deeply troubled.

Refilling the Corellian's glass, Chewie finds himself at a loss for words. The 
  rage is boiling inside of him, at the idea that something happened, 
  something frightening enough to affect Han this way. His own hands shake, 
  but in fury, not in fear. A low, ferocious growl manages to strangle out of 
  his throat before he can stop it.

A third of this second refill is gone before Han is braced enough to continue 
  in an almost normal voice, "Well, so... Sabbath's pet creature took a few
  turns playing Pound the Corellian, before the medic they gave me finally 
  decided she didn't really care much for that game and helped me sneak out." 
  He smirks a little, though his eyes are somber. And he abruptly drinks down 
  another third of the glass, adding gravely, "Amylynn risked her family 
  getting me out of there."

Chewbacca can't conceive of doing otherwise, but that is his oath and his 
  choice. "I owe her a debt," he responds gruffly, "for doing what I could 
  not." The Wookiee also take a swallow, which finishes the bottle. He tosses 
  it aside carelessly and grabs the next one, opening it up and taking yet 
  another gulp before adding more to Han's own glass.

Slowly, ever so slightly, a tension begins to drain out of Han's frame. "After 
  that... we got to Palanhi. Luke and Leia were there... Lando and Winter, 
  too. Coupla redheads I didn't know, ah... Jessalyn. Kid named Shenner, too. 
  And this brain-type, Nighman. Couple more I didn't know. Sabbath came after
  us, though, and the kid turned out to have a boss after me, too..." And Solo
  frowns.

Chewbacca says, "Sounds complicated." Cocking his head to one side, Chewbacca 
  growls again. "What came of the dark Jedi?""

At this, too, Han frowns, sighing heavily. "Leia says Luke went after him, 
  'cause he took Jessalyn. Got her out of there, but his ship blew up."

"Jessalyn too?" The Wookiee remembers the lovely woman well, and his mind 
  begins to spin with all of the connections. It feels like he was trapped on 
  that cursed planet for a year, not just over a month. Growling impotently, 
  he nods his head, indicating that Han should continue.

"Didn't _see_ it, you understand," says the Corellian, gesturing with his 
  glass. "The kid, Shenner, she had this boss, see." A smirk crosses Han's 
  lean features, briefly, but his eyes are still solemn, rather more solemn 
  than usual. "Told me the Hutts have bounties out on all of us...."

That elicits a threatening growl as well. "Damn slugs, Jabba was a wart on 
  society ... he deserved to die ... they should be grateful, now someone else 
  in their chain of thieves can advance." Looking Han in the eye, Chewie 
  clinks his bottle to Han's glass. "Let 'em come," he growls pridefully, 
  "We'll salt them all."

Han gives an actual grin to that, and a firm, "I'll drink to that, too!" He 
  does. But a moment later, his grin wavers down to a rather more sheepish, 
  plaintive expression, and he adds, "Grathix -- the kid's boss -- wanted me 
  to do a frekkin' Kessel Run. Race him."

"Without the Falcon?" roars Chewbacca, "What would be the point?!" Shaking his 
  head bemusedly, Chewie slumps back into the couch, snatching up some kind of 
  vegetable thing as he does so.

His dark eyebrows drawing together in self-directed annoyance, Han mutters in 
  the direction of his glass, "Knew I didn't have the ship. Couldn't think of 
  anything else at the time but... just... I dunno. Makin' sure Luke and Leia 
  were safe. We had the Empire on our collective behinds at the time, though, 
  and when I didn't show up to meet the guy... Grath's goons jumped me."

That brings the Wookiee forward again, his eyes darkening, his fangs bared. 
  "Gods Han, seems like neither of us could catch a break to save our lives." 
  Although the term is used figuratively, it has an unpleasant ring of truth 
  literally as well.

Blowing out a breath, Han half-smiles, without enthusiasm. "That jail was a 
  hotel room, at least. Nice place, if you didn't mind the goons guarding the 
  door. Startled the hells outta Grathix when I told him I didn't have the 
  _Falcon_, though..."

Growling discontently, like a Wookiee that didn't get to rip any arms off 
  after a hard days work, Chewie settles back into the couch, but he doesn't 
  look happy about it. "Prison is still a prison, no matter how pretty the 
  cage ... what did he think he was doing? Who the hell is this Grathix 
  anyway? If I so much as see the man, he's adding his legs to my personal 
  collection."

Solo releases a tired-sounding sigh. "Some kinda crime lord on Tatooine... 
  that's all I know. Took me to Mos Eisley. Took Winter and Lando to get me 
  back... and Luke." For some reason, Han suddenly looks depressed again. "Had 
  me two weeks, I think... if I counted the time right..." And he shifts where 
  he sits on the couch, restlessly.

"Beats eating squirrels and hiding out in trees I suppose," he growls 
  cajolingly, "'Bout time Lando earned his keep anyway, right?" Cocking his 
  head to one side, Chewbacca lays a furry palm on Han's arm once again. "From 
  the sounds of it, you weren't in any condition to do anything about it ... 
  guess we should both cut ourselves a little slack, eh?"

The Corellian looks up at his furry partner, and cracks a grin. "Since when 
  did you turn psychologist, fuzzball?"

That earns Han and snorting urf urf of laughter from his friend. "Somebody's 
  gotta look out for your sanity," he schnorfles good-naturedly, "Guess I must 
  have hit my head on that tree as well as my leg," he teases somewhat 
  embarrassedly. Good thing Wookiees are so damn furry ... Han might be able 
  to spot a blush otherwise.

"You musta, 'cause you oughtta know I can take care of myself," retorts Han, 
  mock-sternly, pointing a finger at the Wookiee.

The urge to guffaw gracelessly is strong ... could be that Han's statement is 
  that funny, or maybe it's just the brandy. Either way, the massive Wookiee 
  realizes that such a reaction would most likely not be appreciated. Turning 
  the urf urf into a cough cough, he pours Han yet another glass full of said 
  brandy. "Take care of this," he orders the Corellian with a toothy grin.

Taking that as a challenge, Han promptly takes down a few hefty swallows of 
  the alcohol. "You still sufferin' under the delusion that you can outdrink 
  me?"

"You still under the delusion that you are better looking than me?" counters 
  the Wookiee with a dangerous grin, and he finishes the rest of the bottle 
  with one hefty swig. Wiping his mouth with a bedraggled arm, the Wookiee 
  opens the third bottle with a snork.

"Hey," snaps back Han briskly as he drains his glass, "I get more babes than 
  you without even looking." He starts grinning, bigger, broader.

"That's just because you're so ... so ... -obvious-," the Wookiee finishes, 
  not being able to come back with a better word. "I have more tact, more 
  finesse ... in other words, I'm discreet!" Then he takes a hefty slug and 
  eyes hie friend, his brow furred, literally and figuratively. "Hey, you're 
  not supposed to be getting babes now that you're a married man ..... " He 
  gives Han a mock-threatening growl, lifing his paw as if to cuff a naughty 
  cub. "Leia will fry your ass with a light saber if you're not careful."

In immense satisfaction, Han says smugly, "Leia knows better things to do with 
  my ass." His hazel eyes spark with a devilish glint. "Makin' up for six 
  months apart...!"

That elicits and satsified roar of laughter from the Wookiee. "Sure you're up 
  to it? After all, you haven't had any practice in six months ... you're 
  bound to be a little rusty at it." He winks, slugging back about half of the 
  bottle of brandy clutched in his paw. That makes about two bottles worth 
  inside the Wookiee. He can just begin to feel the warmth spreading out from 
  his belly, easing the pain in his broken leg. He takes another swig, for 
  medicinal purposes.

"_You_ didn't see us when I got out of the shower," Han taunts, and grins yet 
  again as memory helpfully supplies him with, "She expressed her true 
  feelings for me!" And then he pauses momentarily, baffled. He's starting to 
  feel _quite_ warm inside, as though a small sun had begun to kindle itself 
  in his chest, and the sensation startles him. _How much have I had? Only a 
  few glasses... I can't be drunk yet, can I?_

"Where have I heard that before?" muses the furry co-pilot. "'Course her true 
  feelings are that she loves you for your mind, not your body ... poor 
  woman." At the mention of a shower, he looks down at his bedraggled and 
  stained condition. "Rrrrrowwwmmmmmmmm," he murmurs consideringly. "Maybe if 
  I shower too she'll express her true feelings for me? Like that she want's 
  me to lie in front of the fireplace and be her personal rug?"

"Hey," Han protests, shooting his forefinger at his partner, "I'm the one 
  that's supposed to be Leia's personal rug!"

Chewbacca ruffles the Corellians hair again, cocking his head in an appraising 
  look. "Nyah, you aren't furry enough ... who would want to lie on you?" His 
  whorfling voice is full of mock disgust and bafflement. "Besides, the first 
  person who tried to wipe their boots on you would get a blast to the head. 
  What kind of welcome mat is that?"

Batting at the Wookiee's paw in instinctive "quit it don't muss my hair!" 
  self-defense, Han considers, then slugs down the rest of whatever's in his 
  glass at this point -- he's not sure he remembers, and he's even less sure 
  that he cares -- and declares, grinning, "I'm _real_ hospitable, to the 
  right people!"

The Wookiee, in the middle of swigging back the last of the current bottle 
  gripped in his furry grasp practically spits it out all over Han, but 
  manages to just sputter a bit. He whacks his friend and partner on the back, 
  shaking his head smugly. He then turns, heading for Han's personal stash to 
  get them yet another bottle.

Han sways against that enthusiastic whack, ever so slightly, and squints with 
  one eye after Chewbacca. "Ain't touched that since I got back," he says 
  abruptly, sounding surprised.

Pulling out the very last bottle, Chewie blows the accumulated dust off of the 
  plum colored glass, his mischeivious blue eyes darkening slightly at the 
  implications. "Well, then we're making up for lost time now," he rowls, 
  opening the bottle with a flourish. He limps back over to Han, filling the 
  man's glass yet again. "I say we need to go shopping," he notes gravely. 
  "This is your last bottle .... this is practically sinful ... there should 
  have been at least three more bottles ready and waiting for us."

Looking just a trifle sheepish, Han mumbles, "Didn't exactly cross my mind, 
  yah know?" He is most assuredly relaxing, now, at least of stance, and his 
  expression has begun to mellow. Then he squints, switching eyes this time, 
  and he shakes his head for a moment, surprised at himself. "Shoppin'. Yeah," 
  he finally affirms, his voice sounding mellowed as well.

"Well, if you haven't had any, how were you to know?" rationalizes the 
  Wookiee. "Maybe Leia's developed a habit," he insinuates with a fangful 
  grin, jabbing lightly at his friend with one elbow. "Next time we'll invite 
  her to join us in the fun, eh?"

Solo snorts back a burst of laughter. "Her Worship, imbibin'? No way..." His 
  current glassful follows its predecessors, while the Corellian jabs back at 
  the Wookiee, playfully now, with his other hand.

"Then I think we need to introduce her Highness to the Light side of the 
  Liquor, as it were." The Wookiee gives his partner a broad wink, just to 
  make sure that he actually gets the joke. Chewbacca reaches out with one 
  furry paw to grip Han's arm and begins to limp toward the doorway, tugging 
  insistently. "Come on, we gotta re-stock!" He then turns and teeth dominate 
  his face. "And then we can get something for your cupboards too."

His wits apparently undulled by alcohol, Han snickers, but as he is tugged 
  quickly to his feet, he stumbles in Chewbacca's wake. This, too, surprises 
  him, but he hastily covers it as he follows his partner. "What, three 
  bottles ain't enough for yah?" he challenges. "Gettin' ambitious, furball!"

The Wookiee casts an snorfle over his shoulder. "Who's talking about -me-? 
  This little adventure is to refill -your- depleted stock ... I'm as sober as 
  a judge, and Leia knows what a fine and upstanding Wookiee I am." He 
  snookers at that, giving Han's somewhat wiggly legs and knowing glance and 
  wondering if they'll make it to the Falcon before he'll have to swing his 
  partner over his shoulder and carry him there.

Determinedly striding to the door, Han straightens, as if to demonstrate that 
  he is quite perfectly capable of standing, thank you. "Leia likes _me_ -- 
  you think she's a sterling judge of character?" he sallies back. Out the 
  door, then, and past a pair of very startled sentries, to whom the Corellian 
  bellows, "Tell Her Highness we're goin' shoppin'!"

The two guards straighten, one of them nervously saluting before the other 
  slaps his arm. They both cast twitchy gazes to Han and then to Chewbacca. 
  Like before, neither of them feels up to countering Han Solo, and they 
  wouldn't even dream of trying to stop the Wookiee. "Y-y-yes sir, Captain 
  Solo sir!"

The Wookiee gives them a warning growl, his cheerful face turning fierce and 
  frightening for a moment. The expression evaporates as soon as his furry 
  back is to the two young cadets. He worfles plaintively to Han, "You ever 
  feel like you're the only one getting old in this army?"

With that, then, his strides bearing a rather sharper than usual precision -- 
  as if, perhaps, he's needing to pay just a little bit more attention than he 
  might otherwise do to where he's putting his feet -- Han barrels out through 
  the base. Not paying attention to any who might actually see him, the 
  Corellian is perhaps also not paying attention to the huge lopsided grin 
  that's settled itself on his face, and every third second or so he sneaks a 
  look at his partner that suggests that Chewie's presence at his side is the 
  most marvelous thing in the galaxy. At the question, though, his grin turns 
  into a smirk and he promptly retorts, "I don't age. I decided I'd stay 29 
  forever, didn't I mention?"

"Nice trick," the Wookie gurfles, noting those slight glances with pleasure 
  and reassurance. "How come you never choose to share that little tidbit with 
  your 200 plus pal, huh?" Chewie allows Han to take the lead, curious as to 
  where the Corellian will choose to select some of Corellia's finest from.

"Yeah, and how come _you_ never told me how you got us out of that scrape on 
  Khilooie, huh?" fires back Han, as he and his partner exit the base in short 
  order. The warm night air halts the Corellian momentarily, as he slows his 
  pace in reaction to the temperature shift; in that brief instant he looks 
  just a trifle dazed, before he shakes it off and grabs Chewbacca's arm. 
  "C'mon, pal, I know this old squid who's got _shelves_ fulla brandy older 
  than me, but you gotta beat him in three rounds of sabacc for it...!"

"In your shape? We'll never make it. Where's that thievin' Lando when ya need 
  him? Useless cheat, just gets us in trouble, but never out of it." Whorfling 
  cheerfully, Chewbacca drops a companionable arm over Han's shoulders, giving 
  him subtle support, just in case. "As for Kilhooie, you don't wanna know 
  what I told those tech boys to get the Falcon out of quarantine without an 
  inspection -and- to get you sprung from interrogation with nary a scratch." 
  The Wookiee then stifles a grawluff of laughter from escaping his furry 
  muzzle.

Han protests firmly, "Whaddya mean, 'in my shape?'" He flashes Chewie a smirk 
  and pretends that he's unaware of the Wookiee's arm. "I've done some of my 
  best gambling drunk, you overgrown Ewok."

Chewbacca says, "Eerrrr-rrr yub nub!" is Chewie's sarcastic retort. "Yeah, and 
  I've been on the purse end of that galatically reknown drunken gambling .... 
  like that time on Greelat, where I had to make a quick run of blacklisted 
  parts just to cover your bet and keep the Falcon from becoming some 
  blacklisted parts herself." Catching up his partner in a playful headlock, 
  Chewie rubs the Corellian's hair one more time, messing it up but good. "And 
  all the while you were drunker than an Imperial on shoreleave after five 
  years spaceside."

"Hey quit it!" Han yelps, batting at those scruffying paws, and stumbling once 
  before he looks up and grins again, widely. "The _Falcon_," he breathes, 
  then he turns back to the Wookiee, lifting his gaze to his befurred face. 
  He doesn't have to ask what's on his mind. It's broadcast quite clearly in 
  his weathered features: my ship?

Catching the drift of Han's mind, Chewbacca grins down at the scruffy man at 
  his side. "Now? or do you want to get something to christen her with on her 
  miraculous rebirth?"

Solo just smiles, hugely, eagerly. "Yeah," he says, softly at first, then more 
  loudly, "Yeah. Let's go... c'mon, pal. I know another place....!"

[To be continued....]