Log Date: 11/8/98 Log Cast: Han Solo, Megan, Leia Log Intro: The New Republic forces have found their stay in Caspar space prolonged by a number of prickly incidents: the shooting of Morganna Tazecks and the kidnapping and disappearance of Ariana Millikin, to name a couple. Ariana has quietly sought out Han's help in rejoining the NR, a situation that has concerned both Han and Leia since the woman _had_ been under the control of Valak... and in the meantime, the situation with the Empire and Pride-1 has grown steadily worse, prompting the NR to do what it can to rally forces to go and aid the beleaguered Griffons. In the midst of it all, you'd think that Han could at least rely upon his beloved ship to hold together while quietly sitting in the docking bay of Home One. However, as generally seems to be the case, the _Millennium Falcon_ has her own ideas about how to sit docked anywhere... ---------- You head down off the entry ramp of the _Falcon_. Landing Bays -- Main Deck The cruiser's landing bays are large enough to facilitate a full complement of X-Wing, Y-Wing and B-Wing fighters. There are several marked and unmarked shuttles laying in wait as well, doing their best to avoid the bustle of the area. A blue magnetic barrier holds out the void of space, protecting the giant cove in the side of the ship. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Megan => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Axis => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Millennium Falcon => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Intrepid => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 6 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 2 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 4 => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Hope => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 2 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 4 => STARFIGHTER: Slayn and Korpil B-wing -- Ghost 9 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 6 => STARFIGHTER: Slayn and Korpil B-wing -- Ghost 10 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 3 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 3 => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Tydirium => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 1 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 7 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 8 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 5 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 5 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 1 -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ut leads to Space. tarboard leads to Main Corridor -- Main Deck . Han_Solo enters Landing Bays -- Main Deck It is generally not the rule for Generals to be wandering around covered in oil and coolant fluid, but then again, most Generals are not Han Solo. Solo comes stumping down the lowered ramp of the _Millenium Falcon_, his hair rumpled, his shirt of a militarily khaki hue just as rumpled. Armed with a tool pouch slung off one side of his belt and a pair of protective goggles dangling on a cord around his neck, the Corellian can be heard grumbling to no one in particular, hazel eyes intent as he aims himself for an access panel on the underside of the battered freighter. Sitting to one side of the hangar, Megan sits with her legs crossed reading over what appears to be a full list of information. "This is stupid.." she comments quietly, reading the small screen intently. She sighs as she finally grows tired of the words on the screen and looks up past to the blue hue forcefield that protects the entire bay from the vacuum of outer space. The stars twinkle in the distance, which just seems to make her yearning to be out there worse, drawing a soft sigh from her. The activity in the hangar -- for there's always activity in the hangar, at any hour of the day or night -- seems to make little impact upon Solo. There a pair of pilots scurries off for a briefing with their unit commander; somewhere else, an astromech droid rolls along purposefully on who knows what business; there, a woman is intently reading. The Corellian's hazel regard takes in all of it in a brief sweep before he yanks the goggles up to protect his eyes, and goes to work delving into that access panel. Sounds of tinkering very shortly waft out from under the freighter, accompanied by a few ominous sparks, and Solo's baritone voice continuing a low muttered stream of irritable curses. Megan turns her gaze around the hangar for what must have been the one millionth time tonight, she thought. She looks over the ships, and the people around them, wondering how it must feel to be able to hop in your fighter and take a ride around the fleet when you felt like it. Her gaze finally rests on the Millennium Falcon as she notices finally someones working on it, the ship she had read about, nay, studied the princess' journeys about. All of the reports of the missions that it had been on that she could get her hands on. It wasn't so much the people, or the ship, but the modifications she was interested in. She watches the man weld the ship thoughtfully, the man that made the modifications that she was so intent on learning about, but she couldn't move herself over to finally meet him. Another shower of sparks rains down out of that access panel -- and with it comes a louder spate of curses, in three different languages. At last, with a flare of near-blinding light, something goes *pop*, right in the face of the lanky figure huddled there under the freighter, and that figure is abruptly flung down onto the tarmac. With a moments hesitation, Megan watches the Captain's ship spark back at him suddenly, attacking him and putting him to the durasteel floor that they call home. She shakes her head quickly, confusion over whelming her, whether to embarass herself and by the time she made it over there nothing be wrong, or sit and watch the captain hurt on the tarmac. After the moment's decision, she drops her datapad down to the bench and gets up, jogging over to the General that lays on the ground. "Sir! Are you alright?" she calls to him when she's fairly close, not more than a few meters away. A few meters puts the anxious newcomer almost at the curved edge of the _Falcon_'s hull, and well within earshot. The man on the deck snaps his head briefly in Megan's direction before clambering unhurt to a crouch, grimacing -- and with probable good reason, if the gray tendrils of smoke issuing out of that access panel are any indication. The grimace set firmly into place, Solo comes out from under the hull, his steady muttering growing more audible: "... shoulda replaced that a long time ago, Chewie was right, _damn it_, never mind command if I can't keep my own freggin'..." As he emerges from underneath the ship, straightening up to his full height, he lifts up the goggles off his eyes and then stops in mid-lift, blinking bemusedly at the woman he finds there. "I'm okay," he says gruffly. "Have we met?" Megan Before you stands a beautiful young woman. From looking at her you might determine that she is in her late teens or early twenties at the most. She has medium length brown hair that seems to flow down to just below her shoulders like it was poured into place. Her skin is a very light golden brown, and her figure is very trim, indicating that she has spent some time working on her appearance as well as her demeanor, which is for the most part usually happy-go-lucky. Her eyes are emerald green, and her lips rosy read. She seems to stand alittle over 5 and a half feet from the ground overall, somewhere between 5'7" and 5'10". She currently has on a light blue T-Shirt that goes well with her eyes and fits loosely over her upper torso, showing off her slim figure and giving some estimations of the size of her chest, but still not curving around her exact figure. The shirt is tucked into a pair of blue denim jeans that fit what would appear to be tightly around her thin waist. The jeans fit snuggly around her legs, showing off how long and sleek they are. The jeans end at a pair of white tennis shoes. The woman stands there and looks at the General with a dazed look, her first instinct having being right. "Ah.. No sir.. I.. I'm sorry, I thought you were hurt.. I just wanted to help," Megan stammers out, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind her ear with a brush of her hand. -Now- she'd done it, her cheecks slowly fade from their normal crisp golden brown to a bright red as the embarassment grows. She steals a glance from the man, to his ship, alot of the modifications visible with the naked eye to one who knew where to look across the craft's bottom and top. She quickly turns her attention back to the General and prepares to leave as quickly as she came after hearing his reaction. Dark brown eyebrows arch up beneath the goggles now precariously perched up on the top of Solo's head, framed by disheveled dark brown hair. "It's all right," the man rumbles, jerking a thumb at the ship. "She does that to me a lot -- I'm fine. Are _you_?" Leia comes down the entry ramp of the _Millenium Falcon_. Leia has arrived. Leia enters Landing Bays -- Main Deck Megan nods slightly. "Yes sir, it's just," she says, letting out a small sigh afterwords, trying to calm herself down. "It's just that things don't seem to be going my way today, sir. I wanted to help, but with the confrontation.." her voice quiets down, what was she doing, realing off all of her problems to a general, get real. "Again, I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to take up your time. I was just admiring the ship and thought you might have been hurt," she apologizes. "You're not taking up any more of my time than she is," is Solo's steady reply, as he shoots a sharp glance over his shoulder at the still-smoking access panel on the underbelly of the freighter's hull. "Don't apologize; I'm off duty anyway, ah..." And he pauses, those dark brows still arched, as his hazel gaze sweeps the young woman up and down. Finding no sign of any kind of rank insignia upon her person, he asks, "Who do you report to, kid?" Leia's descent from the _Falcon_'s ramp is soft-stepped, her heels making nary a sound as she pads downward and pauses near the bottom, hands on hips, to take a gander about the bay. If she's seeking something specific, her expression betrays none of it. The whiff of ozone, however, beckons to her, and with something of a smirk she espies the ship's owner - Lando's opinion notwithstanding - and heads toward Han and his companion. Her gaze follows Han's, Megan looking over at the panel with a soft sigh. She looks back to Han respectfully as she's asked a question. "Oh, to my training officer, at the moment, sir, whoever is assigned to me at the time. I'm still a flight cadet, according to the powers-that-be up in the command staff, but so far I have yet to touch the controls of any of these fighters." Megan's voice seems more confident now that she's on a subject she knows something about. Herself. "They give me a-buncha information packets to study before they let my try my skill at the fighters. Truthfully I wish they'd let me show them what I can already do, sir," she states. Ah; a pilot. Or at least, a pilot-to-be. General Solo's expression doesn't exactly turn blatantly friendly, but a kind of ease does come into his expression, as if he sympathizes with the position this young woman before him holds. "What _can_ you do?" he inquires. There's a hint of a drawl in his voice, of bland polite amusement, but perhaps there's also honest interest there. But his gaze flicks past her to the approaching dainty figure, and Solo's hazel eyes abruptly take on a spark of warmth. To Leia, he rumbles pleasantly, "Your Worship." Leia just manages not to roll her eyes at the affectionately tendered yet just-a-hair-annoying moniker with which she was saddled on the first Death Star. Instead she peers around Han toward the access panel and its puffing pollution, gives Han a seraphic smile, and queries sweetly, "Problem, dear?" before levelling her brown gaze on Megan. The look is friendly but decidedly assessing. "I can _do_ lots of things, sir. I'm not exactly..." Megan's voice suddenly stops as Han's gaze leaves her and he addresses the approaching Princess. Megan immediately straightens her posture up, not that it was that lax infront of the general, but she does manage to find some error in it. "Your highness," she greets the princess approperiately, "I was just checking on the General after the ship.. ah.. fought back, ma'am." Solo clears his throat, and says straightfacedly to the Princess, "Don't have a problem here, why do you ask?" Leia smiles as dulcetly as she earlier spoke. "Oh, no reason of course, Han. I expect the access panels to sent out gouts of smoke from time to time." Without skipping a beat she turns toward Megan, presents her hand, and states, "Leia Organa Solo. And you are...?" Megan smiles softly as she sees the princess' sense of humor, her body relaxing slightly as she extends her hand back out to shake Leia's gently. "Megan Guildstone, your highness, a new StarOps recruit." She decides to give up her job title too, to illiminate any confusion later on. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, I was just trying to make sure everything was alright," she explains. [OOC: Unfortunately, at this point, Han's player had to log off and we never finished this scene. I've preserved it for posterity nevertheless since Megan has continued on in the NR.]