What Do You Think of Her?
by Carol A. Addison

        Han Solo sat in the Millenium Falcon's pilot chair, grumbling silently to
himself.  He didn't even bother to turn and watch Princess Leia Organa's angry
departure from the cockpit, nor did he listen to the words she murmured
disdainfully to the young man who came as she went.  Han didn't even notice Luke
Skywalker's approach until the young farmboy took the seat next to his.
        Han watched out the corner of his eye as Luke seated himself, but the
Correllian chose to ignore the boy from Tattooine.  After his obvious failure to
impress the Princess with his navigational prowess, Han was in no mood to
entertain a hyper kid who wanted to know all the Millenium Falcon's secrets. 
Hell, Han wouldn't tell his secret formula of circuit hacking in the space
freighter to anyone-he couldn't, if for no other reason than the fact that he'd
done so much to the ship he couldn't remember every modification.
        "So, what do you think of her, Han?"
        Huh?  Where'd that come from?  He'd expected a question about the Falcon's
instrument panels, hyperdrive, anything about the ship-but the Princess?  
        Why couldn't everyone just leave Solo in peace with his ship?  He had come to
the cockpit, his favorite place in the universe to be alone, and had found
Princess Leia there in the copilot's chair.  Always the gentleman, he had
decided to plop down next to her and strike up some polite conversation,
willingly sacrificing his safe haven by allowing her to stay.  But instead of
returning his generosity and cordiality, she had done nothing but put him down
and stomp off in a huff to leave him alone in the cockpit-which was what he had
wanted in the first place.
        "I try not to, kid."
        Skywalker responded, "Good," though Han could barely make out the word.
        The Correllian smiled to himself.  So that's it, he realized.  Farmboy's got a
little crush on Her Highness.
        Han knew he wasn't being very nice, but he just couldn't resist taunting his
younger companion.
        "Still," he amended, delighting as Luke's body froze, "she's got a lot of
spirit."  He paused, gleefully giving Luke time to thoroughly absorb his words. 
The kid did not look happy about this turn in the conversation.
        "I don't know," Han finally continued.  "You think a Princess and a guy like
me-?"
        "No," Luke cut him off immediately, almost defiantly.  He looked briefly at
Han, then looked away, his face growing red.
        Must be that damned infuriating smile on my face, Han told himself, chuckling
softly.
        Luke got up suddenly and left the cockpit, leaving Han to his peaceful solitude
once again.  Solo sighed and leaned back in his pilot's chair, stretching his
arms and legs.
        As he raised his hands above his head, he took a deep, cleansing breath,
sifting the wonderfully familiar smells of his beloved ship.
        He sat up suddenly.  Something wasn't right.  There was a vague-perfume to the
air.  Perfume?  On my ship?
        He stood, walking around the cockpit slowly and testing the air with his nose.
        It was a very light scent, so it was hard to pinpoint.  But it was nice, barely
noticeable.  Almost like a spring breeze in the waterfall parks of Correllia. 
Yeah, it was an organic-type scent-a nice organic scent.
        Wait a minute, Han thought as the word "organic" sounded out in his brain,
bringing to mind a very similar-sounding word.  Why didn't I think of that?  Her
name practically is "organic"!
        He stopped and shook his head at himself.  So what?
        He leaned against the instrument panel behind his pilot's chair.  So, that's
what you smell, stupid.  She's probably wearing some herbal perfume or something
expensive like that.
        He circled the chair and sat back down.  Now that he had the smell figured out,
he could relax.
        He leaned back again and closed his eyes, but instead of relaxing, every muscle
in his body seemed to refuse to let him rest.  He also noticed that the room had
gotten a little warmer.
        Am I sick?  he wondered.  That garbage compactor was probably loaded with all
sorts of good stuff.  Great.  What I won't do to earn some credits.
        His shoulders felt tense, and his neck ached.  He suddenly found himself
wondering what the Princess knew about massage.
        Solo jumped out of his chair as if something had bitten him in the posterior. 
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"  he exclaimed.  "I must be going crazy!"
        Chewbacca chose that moment to enter the cockpit and said something in response
to Han's exclamation.
        "What d'ya mean, I already am?"  Han demanded.  "You're supposed to be on my
side, remember?  What good's a life debt if you don't honor it, shaggy?"
        Chewie's eyes widened in a hurt expression, and Han instantly felt guilty.
        "Hey, pal," he reassured the Wookiee.  "I'm just in a bad mood.  You know how I
get.  I didn't mean anything by it."  He reached over gave Chewbacca's fur a
healthy scratch.
        The Wookiee grinned in appreciation and relaxed noticeably.
        "Good," Han said.
        Chewie sat up, then, giving his friend a curious look.
        "What?"  Han asked, suddenly uneasy.
        Chewie let out a series of conversational barks and growls.
        "Why do you want to know what's bothering me?"  Han asked.  "You never needed
to know before.  Don't I get any privacy?"
        More noises from the Wookiee.
        "Concerned about me?"  Han asked.  "What am I, an old man?  And I have not been
acting weird since we picked up the kid."
        Chewie said some more.
        "What do you mean, 'Okay, since we rescued the Princess?'  If I'm acting
different since we broke her out of that Imperial cellblock, it's because one
price on my head is enough!  Don't you think so?  Besides, the Empire is a
little better at chasing down its enemies than Jabba is."
        Chewie shrugged and made some noncommittal barks.
        "Oh, no, you don't," Han said, grabbing the Wookiee's arm as only he could. 
"We're not done with this little talk until you tell me what you really mean by
all this crap."
        Chewbacca shrugged again and released an even longer series of Wookiee-speak.
        "Now, wait just a minute," Han said, eyes wide.  "Where do you get off saying
something like that?  You've only seen me around a girl I like once, and that
was years ago."
        Chewie chuckled, then said some more.
        "What do you mean, 'It was worth remembering?'"
        Still chuckling, the Wookiee elaborated through his laughter, the speech
patterns so broken up by his mirth that Han had difficulty translating-but he
got the gist of it.
        "I did not look like an idiot," Han argued.  "Was it my fault she didn't see me
for who I really was?"
        Chewie made a mockery of a lovesick human male, then let his face relax, and he
broke into huge Wookiee guffaws.
        "All right," Han said in a warning tone.  "That's it.  Get outta here.  Go find
something in the hold that needs attention-something that you won't break by
looking at it."
        Still laughing, Chewbacca let Han shove him out of the cockpit.
        "Damn smart ass," Han grumbled, watching the Wookiee's retreating back.
        He turned back into the cockpit, heading once more for the pilot's seat.  He
made himself comfortable, leaning forward to grab his piloting gloves.  He
stared at them thoughtfully, remembering that he had been pulling them off when
he had entered the cockpit to relax and found the Princess there.
        He thought he remembered her staring at his hands as he removed the gloves. 
So, the prim and proper Princess likes leather, huh?
        He shook his head.  What do you care?
        Oh, I care, he reassured his subconscious.  I like a woman who has good, basic
tastes.  And usually if they like leather, they'll wear leather.
        He stood up again, running his hand through his hair.  I gotta stop this.  It's
crazy.  She's an aristocrat, Solo-way out of reach.
        Who says?
        Shut up, Han told his inner voice.  I don't need this right now.  Besides, she
can't stand me anymore than I can stand her.
        Aw, c'mon, you know you like her.
        "Damn it!"  Han said, slamming his fist into the instrument panel on the
nearest wall.  It beeped in protest.
        "Is something wrong, Captain?"  came a voice from behind him, a low, yet
distinctly feminine voice.
        Han turned around to see a confused but genuinely concerned Princess standing
in the doorway to the hold.
        "Um, uh-"  He stammered for a minute, then got himself together.  "No,
nothing's wrong.  Why?"
        "Well, you certainly sounded upset a minute ago," she reminded him.  "Or do you
make normal use of expletives without cause?"
        Well, she's got me there, he thought.  And there's that stupid perfume again. 
Damn, it smells good!
        "Look, do you have something to say, or are you just here to annoy me?"  he
asked, subconsciously deciding anger was his best defense.
        The Princess's face reddened, and a familiar expression crossed her face, one
that an intelligent man would take as a warning sign.  Han took it to mean he
was winning a tacit battle.
        "Well?"  he asked.

        "I certainly wouldn't want to annoy you, Captain," she said hotly.  "I had
thought to apologize for my rude behavior earlier, but I can see there's no
point in such a gesture.  I'll leave you alone to your-whatever it is you were
doing."  She turned on her heel and once more disappeared down the corridor.
        Good one, a voice in Han's head said sarcastically.  You had the chance to sit
here and look at a beautiful woman, watching her lips move while she talked,
learning her figure when she wasn't looking-and you blew it!
        "I thought I told you to shut up," Han said aloud.  "She may be beautiful, but
nothing can make up for that mouth."
        That mouth is pretty nice, isn't it?
        "Oh, Hell."  Han began to pace around the cockpit.  "If Chewie was right about
this, we gotta get away from here-and fast.  I don't have time to fall for a
woman.  Even if I did, I don't think I want to.  I like being independent-free. 
I can do whatever I want.  A woman would just screw that up.  Nope-this can't
happen.  As soon as I collect that reward money, we're history.  I'll go to
Jabba's Palace, clear my name, then fly off to find something new for Chewie and
me to get into.  Yeah.  Maybe find a place that has a nice selection of portside
girls."  His eyebrows did a little dance.  "Now that's the kind of female
companionship I can deal with."
        Convinced he had rid his mind of thoughts of Princess Leia Organa, he began to
study the pilot's instrument panel.  As his fingers traced the last course that
had been set on the navigational computer monitor, they unconsciously stopped in
the place where Alderaan was indicated-the place where, in reality, Alderaan was
no more.
        So, what do you think of her, Han?  The words echoed in his mind.
        "Damn," he said, and sighed.

THE END