Two Steps Forward

By Susan Zahn

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Summary: As things grow rocky for Han, Leia, and Chewbacca while out on a mission, it's difficult to tell whether or not they're making progress. Part of my Kismet Series. Revised in 2016.

Disclaimer: All characters depicted herein are the property of Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. My only profit is in the form of readers' feedback. Please be generous!

Note: This story was originally written in 2010 and has now be revised and updated for consistency with the rest of the Kismet Series. A very special thank-you to my lovely proofreaders: Erin Darroch and Marjorie Joyce.

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Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.
—John Lennon

It was a cold steady rain, the sort that always managed to find gaps in one's protective weather gear, no matter how secure, and brought with it a chill that seeped through to the bone.

Princess Leia Organa shivered and tried to pull tight the neck of her poncho. The rain pattered upon her hood and shoulders, splattered on the cracked pavement of the back alley, and drummed on the metal refuse bins around her.

He's taking too long.

Because this was the shabby backwater port city of Cresy, on the planet Thertur Major, it had been decided that Captain Han Solo, of all people, would be the least conspicuous choice to make initial contact with the increasingly desperate band of fighters that had emerged from the struggling population. What had begun as peaceful demonstrations against newly imposed and unfair trade restrictions on their main export, Camiun ore, had quickly escalated into riots and outright revolt in some regions of the planet.

That was why her team was here now.

While she and Chewbacca, Captain Solo's partner and ever-present friend, had found a secluded spot down the block from which to observe, Han had gone on alone and disappeared into what was a very busy nightclub. The gaudy colors of the bright lights wreathed around the front façade glittered in the puddles and reflected in the windows of nearby buildings. For almost an hour now, she and the Wookiee had watched in miserable silence as the nightlife of the port city rushed in and out of the rain, their talk and occasional peals of laughter echoing down the street, belying the dangerous times and a pending curfew.

Chewbacca growled something. Still having only a fledgling understanding of his complicated and subtle language, Leia was forced to guess at his full meaning as she looked up at him, exposing her face to the fat raindrops. Her towering companion had chosen to forego any ill-fitting rain gear. He was now drenched, his long hair dark and plastered to his muscular body, making him look even more menacing, if that were possible. There also seemed to be a deadly battle taking place between the disagreeable odors of dank alley and very wet Wookiee, promising no winners.

"It's still very busy. Maybe it's just hard to find anyone in there," she speculated.

Although she said this in hopes of reassuring him, she couldn't stem the rising tide of doubts in her own head.

Establishing a solid connection with an independent rebel cell was always a risky endeavor, all the more so when that cell was new and unfamiliar. These were freedom fighters not vetted or trained by the usual Alliance channels, but rather an organic uprising of unprepared citizens who now found themselves in a desperate struggle as the Empire began its inevitable crackdown. Because of this, there was legitimate doubt as to how robust their security discipline could be. For all she knew, this group had been infiltrated and their meeting tonight was nothing more than a trap to draw in larger prey from the Alliance proper.

Of course, maybe the trap had been sprung already. That could explain Solo's lateness.

Damn it, Solo! Five more minutes and I'm going in after you.

Her mission, over which she had fought her own little battle with High Command, was to establish contact, assess ability and need, and then arrange for whatever supplies possible according to her knowledge of available stores and connections. While some of the generals had questioned whether diverting badly needed resources to this isolated theater was worth it, nearly all of them had voiced concern about her personally leading the dangerous mission. She had chafed at both implications: in her opinion, every voice of opposition was valuable, every potential uprising worth fomenting until the Empire was overwhelmed and smothered in the landslide. As for the danger to herself, she'd never asked them to serve as her keepers, and she certainly hadn't risked and lost nearly everything already just to be coddled and patronized now.

At the moment, however, this first vital step was out of her hands, and that's what made her nervous as the night wore on. Instead, she found herself relying once more on a mercenary Corellian pilot she'd only known for a few standard months. While her opinion of him varied from day to day, ranging from affection to exasperation to bewilderment, and she suspected that his considerable skills were too often offset by his recklessness, Leia again reminded herself that Han seemed to know what he was doing in these situations.

The heavy rain tapered off suddenly, leaving the distinct scent of ozone in its wake. Taking that as her sign, she drew a deep breath and checked one last time the slim blaster hidden beneath her poncho.

All right. That's it.

Before she could take a step out into the pool of diffused yellowish light in the street, the doors to the club swung open, spilling out a shaft of angled red light, the loud thumps of music, and a couple of humans into the dark, rain-slicked street. As the doors banged closed behind the couple, cutting off the noise, they paused and appeared to exchange a big, if somewhat sloppy, kiss before the female was sent on her way in the opposite direction with a slap to her backside that made her shriek with laughter. She tottered off down the darkened street, her dangerously high heels clicking loudly on the pavement. The man turned and began staggering in Leia's general direction.

Despite the long duster coat and dark shadows, Leia recognized Captain Solo in an instant, although her unspoken relief evaporated quickly, burned off by a mix of anger and antipathy.

Is he drunk? And who the hell was that woman?

Coming abreast of the alley where she and Chewbacca were hiding, Solo wobbled and then abruptly left the main road, falling into the shadows where they were hidden and banging against the nearest trash bin. The awful din made her cringe and she shot a worried glance down what appeared to be a fortunately empty street.

"Fancy meeting you here, Sweetheart," he slurred.

Despite the oppressive odors lingering in the alleyway, Leia could detect a new infusion of alcohol, an illegal stimulant, and cheap perfume. "What took you so long? This is a serious mission, Han. Now is not the time to be working on your sad social life or—"

Han straightened up to his full height, any evidence of intoxication gone in an instant. "Relax. My job was to blend in with the local color, remember?"

The smuggler was tall enough that she had to tip her head back to see his face, allowing a rivulet of rainwater to sneak under her hood and run down the back of her neck, making her shudder despite herself. "Does blending in involve hooking up with cheap portside—"

"It could. And what makes you think she was cheap? Do I detect jealousy, Your Highnessness?"

"Just keep telling yourself that, Flyboy. By the way, you've got some of that local color smeared all over your chin," she added with disgust.

One thick eyebrow arched up as Han swiped a hand across his mouth. He actually looked a little sheepish as he glanced at the remnants of garish lipstick with a chuckle. "You'll be happy to learn that she didn't know anything."

Irritated by his misplaced enthusiasm for his role in this mission, Leia sighed in capitulation. "Well?"

With a shake of his head, Han reached to flip up the collar of his coat, and then shrugged in an attempt to keep the damp air off the back of his neck. "Nobody fitting your description showed up."

Although her fear of springing some trap had abated, it was now replace with worry. "He never showed?"

"Nope."

Her heart fell at the prospect of their mission failing. "It's possible they sent a different contact…."

"And how would I know that? I'm not exactly walking around with a sign around my neck saying, 'Join the Rebellion. Ask me how.'"

Leia gritted her teeth; the combination of weather and Corellian was not benefiting her mood tonight. "Very funny."

"Well, when's the last time you heard from them?"

"Three days ago, right before we left Serricci."

Han didn't voice his next thought, but she could guess at it.

A lot can happen in three days.

"Maybe if you go back in and—"

Han shook his head. "It's too late. He won't show up now, not with the city curfew in fifteen. We might as well go back to the Falcon and dry out."

Even though he was correct and there was no point in standing out in the damp and cold night any longer, Leia was unwilling to give up so easily. Another sudden shiver nearly made her teeth chatter together. He must have noticed it because his expression changed, seeming to grow softer; that or it was a trick of the poor lighting.

"Come on, Princess. We'll try Plan B in the morning."

"What's Plan B?"

"No idea. I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

The End