The last chapter! I never would have made it without the help of my two wonderful betas: jublke and StatsGrandma57. Thanks, guys! I couldn't have done it without you. And a huge thank you to everyone who read, followed and reviewed the story. I'm truly grateful to you.

What Makes A Hero?

Chapter Eleven

"I know what I told him then, but that was…" Han paused, his sleeves rolled up against the stifling jungle heat, a calibration tool poised over the forward sensor bay. He still wasn't sure just what had prompted him to tell Astin that they were part of the Alliance. If it was jealousy, insecurity, or some other even more distasteful emotion, Han did not want to think about it. And he certainly didn't want to think about the fact that he'd uttered those words where the Princess could hear him!

"That was just something that particular situation demanded," he continued. "It doesn't mean I actually committed us to anything. C'mon, it's not like I've never shaded the truth a little before!" Like you are right now? a voice inside his head asked him. Han told it to shut up.

Chewbacca merely raised one furry eyebrow and rumbled out another possible reason.

"No! I wasn't trying to impress the Princess. I just needed to say something to shut the kid up, okay?"

Then why, Chewie growled, was Han now agreeing to work with the Rebels?

"Because now we're gonna get paid, that's why! What is this, an inquisition? I can get that from her Worshipfulness!" Han tossed the instrument he'd been using into a nearby tool carrier. The resultant clang echoed off the walls of the nearby Massassi temple.

Both the Wookiee's eyebrows soared skyward. He snarled under his breath.

"Listen, we've had this discussion before, pal," Han continued defensively. "I know how you feel about helping these guys. I understand." He waved his hand, indicating the bits and pieces of the Millennium Falcon strewn out across the jungle floor. "But we can't keep her flying without parts, and we can't get the parts without credits."

Chewie started to say something, but Han silenced him with a raised hand.

"And it's got nothing to do with the princess," he interjected quickly. "This new guy, Rieekan, I think he's being straight with us. You heard him, he's offering a fair fee for our services." Han smiled, warming to his subject. "It'll work great, we can earn a few credits, keep an eye on the kid, and keep off Jabba's screen for a while." He looked down at the Wookiee. "That work for you?" he asked.

But the princess, Chewie warbled out.

"Why do you keep bring her up?" Han countered irritably.

"Captain Solo?" Leia called out. She came around from behind one of the landing struts.

"Oh," Han said, hoping he was hiding his embarrassment.

The Wookiee didn't quite stifle his chuckle.

Leia looked up at Han. Her face was serious, and showed none of the disdain he usually saw there. Or, at least, that he expected to see there.

"Is there something I can do for you, Princess?" he asked her, climbing down from his perch on top of the ship's starboard mandible.

"I was hoping to have a word with you, if you have a minute." Leia looked over the collection of parts spread underneath the ship with a brief flash of concern. "Are you having trouble with the ship?"

"No, why?"

A smile flared in Leia's eyes at the innocent response, then vanished so quickly, Han didn't catch it.

"Whatever it is, it must be pretty important to bring you way out here," Han continued.

"I wanted to speak to you privately."

"Sure, sweetheart," Han said, "whatever you want! Just let me get rid of Chewie. Wouldn't want an audience." He leaned back against the landing strut and folded his arms across his chest. A self-satisfied smile slanted across his face.

"Han!" Leia nearly stamped her foot.

Holding up his hands in a defensive posture, Han took the opportunity to look her over; he hadn't seen her since she'd been released from the medcenter yesterday. She looked fine, he noted, pleased to see how well she'd recovered. Her face showed only the slightest of shadows where the bruising had been.

"Privately," he said. He turned to look at his first mate, but Chewie was already heading down the path away from the ship.

"So, your Worship?"

"I wanted to thank you, for what you did for Astin."

A picture of the young man's laser burned body passed through Han's mind and his face lost all traces of amusement. "I didn't do anything for him," he said flatly, "except let him get killed."

"No, you didn't let him get killed." Leia's eyes met Han's across the assemblage of mismatched parts on the ground. "You couldn't have stopped him; I couldn't stop him. He wanted revenge for Alderaan more than anything, even his own life." She swallowed once before she continued. "The Astin I knew when we were growing up, he was brilliant, and funny, and gentle. That wasn't the Astin you met. That wasn't the Astin who poisoned bacta."

Leia moved around to stand next to Han. His stomach twisted oddly at her nearness.

"By not telling anyone what really happened on Thyferra, you let Astin keep his dignity in the end. The people who knew him can remember the old Astin." She laid a hand on his arm; her eyes were filled with tears. "Thank you for that."

An ion cannon couldn't have caused more of an electric charge than the presence of Leia's hand against his bare skin. It took almost more willpower than Han had to keep from jerking his arm away—or covering her hand with his. He shifted his feet nervously.

Leia looked down at her hand and let it fall away, balling it into her fist at her side. Han felt his heart slow to normal.

"Uh," Han stuttered, "is there some kind of ceremony or something for him? I don't know what you do, uh, did, on Alderaan." That was smooth, Solo, he chastised himself. Remind her of everything she's lost, all at once!

"I think…something private…" Leia said softly.

Han nodded. "If I can do anything…" He reached down and picked up a random engine part, juggled it in his hands.

Leia nodded.

"I really need to get back to work on this," he said, breaking into the heavy silence that had settled over them.

"It certainly looks that way," she said sharply, once again eyeing the assemblage of parts spread out before them.

"Listen, your Worship," Han shot back, "it takes a lot of work to keep the Falcon running the way she does!"

Leia arched a brow. "I'm sure it does," she needled, but her eyes smiled. "I need to be getting back."

Han nodded once. "I'm sure there's a meeting that needs your presence."

She turned to leave, her lips forming the faintest of smiles. She was obviously as relieved as Han to be back on their old, familiar territory.

Han watched her walk away, enjoying the view as he always did, and wondered what it was about the prickly-tempered princess that always had him off balance.

As if she could read his thoughts, Leia stopped and turned around to look at him. Han immediately found something to adjust on the ship's underside.

"Han," she called to him, "I talked to General Rieekan today."

Here it comes, Han realized, the comment he'd been waiting for. He braced himself for the standard comment on his mercenary ways.

"He said you're going to be staying with the Alliance for a while."

"That's right." Han's look defied her to say more.

"I'm glad you're staying," she said clearly, then turned and headed down the path toward the Command Center.

####

Leia's smile broadened as she walked slowly through Yavin 4's heavy air toward the old temple. The look of shock on Han Solo's face when she'd told him she was glad he was staying had been priceless. She was glad, she realized, and not just because he and his skills would be an asset to the Rebellion. There was something about the man; something kind, and brave, and noble. Certainly nothing he wanted the world to see, but it was there, all the same.

And her memories of the trip back from Thyferra were much clearer now. Leia was aware of Han's careful handling of her while she was injured. She could clearly remember his genuine concern and his gentle touch. It was almost as if…he cared for her.

No! That unspoken thought was absolutely ridiculous, she told herself. Han Solo did not care about anyone, or anything, except himself…and Chewie, and Luke. And maybe her. She shook her head, as if she could shake her confused thoughts into some reasonable order. It didn't work. But one thing was clear, Leia realized she needed to rethink the difficult Corellian pilot. What he had done on Thyferra for Astin and for her, and for the Rebellion, had been nothing short of heroic. And he had done it without expecting anything in return: no money, no recognition, no thanks. He had done it simply because it was the right thing to do.

With a sigh of relief, Leia stepped into the coolness of the base hangar. She quickened her pace as she wove through the parked fighters; she really did have a meeting she needed to get to—curse Han Solo for being right! As she climbed the steps to the Command Center, Leia realized one other thing—Han had forced her to redefine just what it was that made a hero.