Fic: A Wanted Man
Title: A Wanted Man
Author: MamaLaz
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Han/Luke pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: God, if I owned them... :D
Summary: Luke could have asked anyone to pilot his newest cause. But he wants only one man.
Notes: The beginning chapter for a story I wrote yonks ago. For now, it's a one shot.
Link:
A Wanted Man
If a passer-by happened to pass the commotion around the Millennium Falcon as she sat in Mos Eisley Space port, they probably would have thought that they would shortly be witness to a rather violent murder.
However, little did the hypothetical passer-by know that when it came to the Corellian and the threatening looking Wookiee who were bickering heatedly under the ship, the Corellian was the one with the shorter temper.
“Why’d you go and re-route the hyperdrive for?” Han Solo demanded as he squeezed himself out from under his ship, his face irritable and his clothes streaked with engine grease. “I didn’t have that fixed so you could put your paws all over it, pal! We’re trying to get off this rock, not stay for an extended visit.”
In response, Chewbacca threw back his head and growled rather heatedly, snarling a few choice words that made Han take a step back and raise his hands up in a mixture of disgruntlement and repentance.
“Jeez, alright, calm down, buddy,” Han said both placatingly and bad-temperedly. “Damn crazy fuzzball, no need to get so defensive. ‘Just saying we need to get her fixed, is all. Look, just pass me the hydrospanner and I’ll- what? What do you mean you can’t find it?!”
“Problems?” asked an amused voice behind them.
Han, who was giving the search for his hydrospanner his full attention, simply grunted in response to the newcomer.
“Yeah, you can say that again, kid,” he grumbled, rummaging through his toolbox in vain. He then suddenly stopped, lifting up his head.
Wait a minute - kid?
And sure enough, when he turned around, “Luke!” he cried out in an almost embarrassingly high voice. “What the hell are you doing here, huh?”
Before Luke could open his mouth in response, however, Chewie bounded down the ramp towards the Jedi and pulled him up into such a strong hug that it lifted Luke clear off the ground, his feet barely scraping the floor. Wheezing out a chuckle, Luke stroked at his fur warmly.
“Whoa there, easy, Chewie! I’m glad to see you, too!”
Han, unable to stop himself from smirking at the grand mess Chewie had made of Luke’s neat Jedi get-up, remained where he was. Arms crossed, he cocked his head to one side and raised his trademark brow.
“Now, why do I get a funny feeling you’re following me?” he asked.
“I grew up here, Han, it’s not that inconceivable I’d return, is it?” Luke asked a little breathlessly, pulling away from Chewbacca with his hair in wild disarray. Chewie made a snuffle-like sound and patted it down fondly.
Han narrowed his eyes a little at Luke in suspicion before lifting up his finger with a lopsided smile.
“Leia sent you, huh?” he said with realisation.
“I’m her brother, Han, not her errand boy,” Luke responded a little too quickly. Then, looking a little sheepish, “Besides, she’s worried about you. We both are.”
“Nothing to worry about there,” Han returned smoothly although he pointedly didn’t look at him, wiping his hands on a cloth so filthy it made his hands greasier. “Just back to doing an honest bit of smuggling, that’s all.”
Luke frowned a little, his pale eyebrows furrowed.
“I thought you were going to come back and help with the restoration on Coruscant,” he said through a bit of a pout, his voice reminding Han of that whiny kid who first stepped aboard his ship.
Han rolled his eyes but there was a look of wry amusement his face. He always liked that whiny kid.
“Come on, Luke, you know that sort of thing ain’t me. Hell, the whole General thing wasn’t me.”
“Are you saying you regret it?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Han said defensively at the hurt expression on Luke’s face. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m just back to where I should be, that’s all. Hell, why’s it bother you so much?”
“Because I miss my friend,” Luke replied softly. “And because it looks like he doesn’t even care.”
Oh, I care, kid, Han said to himself. Care more about you than you’d care to know…
Running a hand through his hair, Han just let out a sigh.
“Luke, what’re you really doing here, huh? Come back to be my conscience?”
“Heaven knows you need one,” Luke replied, his mouth twitching slightly. “But no. I came back for something else.”
And Han, looking both confused and shrewd at the same time, just stared back at him.
“And what’s that?” he asked. However, he soon answered his own question five minutes later as he found himself sitting in a shady booth in the Mos Eisley Cantina where it had all started, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Smuggling?” Han repeated, his eyes almost comically wide as Luke calmly sat opposite him and sipped at his juma. “As in illegal smuggling? You’re kidding me, right?”
Luke, who had been the one to suggest they relocate to the Cantina to discuss things more comfortably, placed his cup carefully back on the table and Han was suddenly transported back to their first meeting and his first impression of the kid.
As green as they could come, mouth too big for common sense and eyes bigger and bluer than anything the Corellian had ever seen.
Luke simply screamed naïve little farmboy back then.
Now though…
Looking across at his friend, Han just shook his head, a dry half-smile on his lips.
Now Luke exuded such an aura of power that the usually hostile patrons weren’t just looking warily at him, they were trying not to look at him at all.
Funny how much could change in a few short years. How much they had all changed…
“Before you ask, the smuggling I’m asking of you is perfectly honourable,” Luke assured, pulling Han back to the present. And Han, far from snorting at Luke’s words, believed him. This was Luke after all. He was nothing but honourable.
Leaning forward, genuinely interested, Han gave him his full attention.
“Go on, kid, I’m listening,” he said. “What’s the cargo and where’s the destination?”
“Medical supplies and Taris,” Luke replied promptly, his voice and his stance confident but his eyes seemed to be watching Han closely. “Ever since the quarantine, ships haven’t been allowed on or off planet and the Baoman’s Serum is running low. Just this morning, we received confirmation that several thousand more people had died deaths that would have been perfectly preventable had they simply had the serum.”
“Never read that on the holonets,” Han replied, scratching his chin. “Last I heard, it sounded like the government had it all under control.”
“They have the Upper City under control,” Luke returned, something akin to disgust in his voice. “But they’re leaving all the poor souls in the Undercity to die. At least a million of them have been wiped out and not a thing is being reported about it.”
“Why waste money or press on the dregs of society, right?” Han supplied deprecatingly. “Sounds like politics to me.”
“Han, we’re their only hope,” Luke implored as he leaned forward, placing his hand on Han’s arm, his eyes wide and full of all that damn compassion that always got him into trouble. “If we don’t do something, millions more will die. The Republic have already got the supplies and the clearance codes all ready. We just need someone to fly it in. It can’t be a Republic ship or the Taris administration will say we’re overstepping our purview and the Alliance can’t afford to send out any of their own pilots.”
“Luke,” Han began hesitantly, his drink leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as his eyes trained on where Luke’s hand was still resting on his arm, “look… you don’t need me for this run. You’re sitting in contraband club, buddy, got your pick of every smuggler in the galaxy, all under one roof.”
“Yes, but I want you,” Luke persisted.
And damn if that didn’t go straight to Han’s groin.
Pulling out his arm from Luke’s grip, Han refilled his drink with a shaky hand and quickly knocked it back in one go.
He really had to get over this already.
“Okay, junior, say I do do this…” Han said eventually, licking the alcohol from his dry lips and briefly closing his eyes to get his vision to stop spinning, “And I’m not saying I will now. But say I do, how much will it get me?”
Luke seemed to let out a little wince before mumbling something into his drink.
Raising an eyebrow, Han cocked his head.
“Speak up, kid, I don’t speed Selkatha.”
“Three hundred credits,” Luke repeated reluctantly, looking a little abashed at having to speak the sum aloud.
“Three hundred credits?!” Han laughed incredulously. “Kid, that barely covers my fuel…!”
“Come on, Han, I know it isn’t much,” Luke conceded. “But it’s for a good cause. And I can pay you extra out of my own funds in a couple of weeks. I just need a little time and...”
“Wait one minute here,” Han suddenly said, lifting up his hand to get Luke to shut up. Closing his mouth, Luke did just that. “If the Republic are so willing to ship all this serum, why can’t they afford to dish out good money for a pilot?”
“… this, this isn’t exactly their first priority…”
“Luke…” Han ground out, knowing when the kid was hedging.
Letting out a sigh, Luke scrubbed a hand over his eyes which, when Han looked at them closely, looked bloodshot and lined.
“Alright,” Luke finally admitted, his voice tired but earnest, “this isn’t technically for the Republic.”
“Then who’s this generous donor?” Han demanded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He soon got his answer however, at the pink tinge around Luke’s cheeks.
“Aww, kid, you didn’t…” Han said thickly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not with your inheritance…”
“How else was I supposed to spend all that money Vader gave me?” Luke responded in a quiet voice. “In any case, I’ve got a lot of it left. It just takes a while to transfer the funds. But I’ll definitely have a few thousand for you in a week or two, Han. I give you my word.”
“Hells, Luke, you think I’m turning this down because of money?”
Although Luke had become a master at hiding his feelings when he wanted to, Han couldn’t ignore the slump of his shoulders.
“You’re turning this down?” he asked, the disappointment in his tone practically cutting into Han like a knife.
Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to get Han to do anything he wanted. And damn Han for being unable to resist him in the first place.
“Never said I wouldn’t do it, kid,” Han responded grudgingly, hating himself and his inability to refuse.
Luke’s eyes immediately lit up and Han hated himself some more for finding that look was payment enough.
“So you’ll do it?” Luke asked, his voice breathless and hopeful and grateful all at once.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Han confirmed gruffly, realising that he had been doomed to this the moment Luke showed up outside the Falcon a half hour ago with that damn look in his eyes. “I got one condition though.”
“And what’s that?” Luke asked, genuinely curious.
Downing yet another drink, Han lifted up his hand and pointed at his friend around the shot glass in his fingers.
“You’re coming with me, junior.”
And Luke, his smile widening and his eyes twinkling in the low light of the bar, simply nodded his head.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Han.”
Author: MamaLaz
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Han/Luke pre-slash
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: God, if I owned them... :D
Summary: Luke could have asked anyone to pilot his newest cause. But he wants only one man.
Notes: The beginning chapter for a story I wrote yonks ago. For now, it's a one shot.
Link:
A Wanted Man
If a passer-by happened to pass the commotion around the Millennium Falcon as she sat in Mos Eisley Space port, they probably would have thought that they would shortly be witness to a rather violent murder.
However, little did the hypothetical passer-by know that when it came to the Corellian and the threatening looking Wookiee who were bickering heatedly under the ship, the Corellian was the one with the shorter temper.
“Why’d you go and re-route the hyperdrive for?” Han Solo demanded as he squeezed himself out from under his ship, his face irritable and his clothes streaked with engine grease. “I didn’t have that fixed so you could put your paws all over it, pal! We’re trying to get off this rock, not stay for an extended visit.”
In response, Chewbacca threw back his head and growled rather heatedly, snarling a few choice words that made Han take a step back and raise his hands up in a mixture of disgruntlement and repentance.
“Jeez, alright, calm down, buddy,” Han said both placatingly and bad-temperedly. “Damn crazy fuzzball, no need to get so defensive. ‘Just saying we need to get her fixed, is all. Look, just pass me the hydrospanner and I’ll- what? What do you mean you can’t find it?!”
“Problems?” asked an amused voice behind them.
Han, who was giving the search for his hydrospanner his full attention, simply grunted in response to the newcomer.
“Yeah, you can say that again, kid,” he grumbled, rummaging through his toolbox in vain. He then suddenly stopped, lifting up his head.
Wait a minute - kid?
And sure enough, when he turned around, “Luke!” he cried out in an almost embarrassingly high voice. “What the hell are you doing here, huh?”
Before Luke could open his mouth in response, however, Chewie bounded down the ramp towards the Jedi and pulled him up into such a strong hug that it lifted Luke clear off the ground, his feet barely scraping the floor. Wheezing out a chuckle, Luke stroked at his fur warmly.
“Whoa there, easy, Chewie! I’m glad to see you, too!”
Han, unable to stop himself from smirking at the grand mess Chewie had made of Luke’s neat Jedi get-up, remained where he was. Arms crossed, he cocked his head to one side and raised his trademark brow.
“Now, why do I get a funny feeling you’re following me?” he asked.
“I grew up here, Han, it’s not that inconceivable I’d return, is it?” Luke asked a little breathlessly, pulling away from Chewbacca with his hair in wild disarray. Chewie made a snuffle-like sound and patted it down fondly.
Han narrowed his eyes a little at Luke in suspicion before lifting up his finger with a lopsided smile.
“Leia sent you, huh?” he said with realisation.
“I’m her brother, Han, not her errand boy,” Luke responded a little too quickly. Then, looking a little sheepish, “Besides, she’s worried about you. We both are.”
“Nothing to worry about there,” Han returned smoothly although he pointedly didn’t look at him, wiping his hands on a cloth so filthy it made his hands greasier. “Just back to doing an honest bit of smuggling, that’s all.”
Luke frowned a little, his pale eyebrows furrowed.
“I thought you were going to come back and help with the restoration on Coruscant,” he said through a bit of a pout, his voice reminding Han of that whiny kid who first stepped aboard his ship.
Han rolled his eyes but there was a look of wry amusement his face. He always liked that whiny kid.
“Come on, Luke, you know that sort of thing ain’t me. Hell, the whole General thing wasn’t me.”
“Are you saying you regret it?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Han said defensively at the hurt expression on Luke’s face. “You know that’s not what I meant. I’m just back to where I should be, that’s all. Hell, why’s it bother you so much?”
“Because I miss my friend,” Luke replied softly. “And because it looks like he doesn’t even care.”
Oh, I care, kid, Han said to himself. Care more about you than you’d care to know…
Running a hand through his hair, Han just let out a sigh.
“Luke, what’re you really doing here, huh? Come back to be my conscience?”
“Heaven knows you need one,” Luke replied, his mouth twitching slightly. “But no. I came back for something else.”
And Han, looking both confused and shrewd at the same time, just stared back at him.
“And what’s that?” he asked. However, he soon answered his own question five minutes later as he found himself sitting in a shady booth in the Mos Eisley Cantina where it had all started, a look of incredulity on his face.
“Smuggling?” Han repeated, his eyes almost comically wide as Luke calmly sat opposite him and sipped at his juma. “As in illegal smuggling? You’re kidding me, right?”
Luke, who had been the one to suggest they relocate to the Cantina to discuss things more comfortably, placed his cup carefully back on the table and Han was suddenly transported back to their first meeting and his first impression of the kid.
As green as they could come, mouth too big for common sense and eyes bigger and bluer than anything the Corellian had ever seen.
Luke simply screamed naïve little farmboy back then.
Now though…
Looking across at his friend, Han just shook his head, a dry half-smile on his lips.
Now Luke exuded such an aura of power that the usually hostile patrons weren’t just looking warily at him, they were trying not to look at him at all.
Funny how much could change in a few short years. How much they had all changed…
“Before you ask, the smuggling I’m asking of you is perfectly honourable,” Luke assured, pulling Han back to the present. And Han, far from snorting at Luke’s words, believed him. This was Luke after all. He was nothing but honourable.
Leaning forward, genuinely interested, Han gave him his full attention.
“Go on, kid, I’m listening,” he said. “What’s the cargo and where’s the destination?”
“Medical supplies and Taris,” Luke replied promptly, his voice and his stance confident but his eyes seemed to be watching Han closely. “Ever since the quarantine, ships haven’t been allowed on or off planet and the Baoman’s Serum is running low. Just this morning, we received confirmation that several thousand more people had died deaths that would have been perfectly preventable had they simply had the serum.”
“Never read that on the holonets,” Han replied, scratching his chin. “Last I heard, it sounded like the government had it all under control.”
“They have the Upper City under control,” Luke returned, something akin to disgust in his voice. “But they’re leaving all the poor souls in the Undercity to die. At least a million of them have been wiped out and not a thing is being reported about it.”
“Why waste money or press on the dregs of society, right?” Han supplied deprecatingly. “Sounds like politics to me.”
“Han, we’re their only hope,” Luke implored as he leaned forward, placing his hand on Han’s arm, his eyes wide and full of all that damn compassion that always got him into trouble. “If we don’t do something, millions more will die. The Republic have already got the supplies and the clearance codes all ready. We just need someone to fly it in. It can’t be a Republic ship or the Taris administration will say we’re overstepping our purview and the Alliance can’t afford to send out any of their own pilots.”
“Luke,” Han began hesitantly, his drink leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as his eyes trained on where Luke’s hand was still resting on his arm, “look… you don’t need me for this run. You’re sitting in contraband club, buddy, got your pick of every smuggler in the galaxy, all under one roof.”
“Yes, but I want you,” Luke persisted.
And damn if that didn’t go straight to Han’s groin.
Pulling out his arm from Luke’s grip, Han refilled his drink with a shaky hand and quickly knocked it back in one go.
He really had to get over this already.
“Okay, junior, say I do do this…” Han said eventually, licking the alcohol from his dry lips and briefly closing his eyes to get his vision to stop spinning, “And I’m not saying I will now. But say I do, how much will it get me?”
Luke seemed to let out a little wince before mumbling something into his drink.
Raising an eyebrow, Han cocked his head.
“Speak up, kid, I don’t speed Selkatha.”
“Three hundred credits,” Luke repeated reluctantly, looking a little abashed at having to speak the sum aloud.
“Three hundred credits?!” Han laughed incredulously. “Kid, that barely covers my fuel…!”
“Come on, Han, I know it isn’t much,” Luke conceded. “But it’s for a good cause. And I can pay you extra out of my own funds in a couple of weeks. I just need a little time and...”
“Wait one minute here,” Han suddenly said, lifting up his hand to get Luke to shut up. Closing his mouth, Luke did just that. “If the Republic are so willing to ship all this serum, why can’t they afford to dish out good money for a pilot?”
“… this, this isn’t exactly their first priority…”
“Luke…” Han ground out, knowing when the kid was hedging.
Letting out a sigh, Luke scrubbed a hand over his eyes which, when Han looked at them closely, looked bloodshot and lined.
“Alright,” Luke finally admitted, his voice tired but earnest, “this isn’t technically for the Republic.”
“Then who’s this generous donor?” Han demanded, leaning back and crossing his arms. He soon got his answer however, at the pink tinge around Luke’s cheeks.
“Aww, kid, you didn’t…” Han said thickly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not with your inheritance…”
“How else was I supposed to spend all that money Vader gave me?” Luke responded in a quiet voice. “In any case, I’ve got a lot of it left. It just takes a while to transfer the funds. But I’ll definitely have a few thousand for you in a week or two, Han. I give you my word.”
“Hells, Luke, you think I’m turning this down because of money?”
Although Luke had become a master at hiding his feelings when he wanted to, Han couldn’t ignore the slump of his shoulders.
“You’re turning this down?” he asked, the disappointment in his tone practically cutting into Han like a knife.
Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to get Han to do anything he wanted. And damn Han for being unable to resist him in the first place.
“Never said I wouldn’t do it, kid,” Han responded grudgingly, hating himself and his inability to refuse.
Luke’s eyes immediately lit up and Han hated himself some more for finding that look was payment enough.
“So you’ll do it?” Luke asked, his voice breathless and hopeful and grateful all at once.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Han confirmed gruffly, realising that he had been doomed to this the moment Luke showed up outside the Falcon a half hour ago with that damn look in his eyes. “I got one condition though.”
“And what’s that?” Luke asked, genuinely curious.
Downing yet another drink, Han lifted up his hand and pointed at his friend around the shot glass in his fingers.
“You’re coming with me, junior.”
And Luke, his smile widening and his eyes twinkling in the low light of the bar, simply nodded his head.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Han.”