Kalon - Han Solo [1]

Chapter 15 : No, We Agreed

The technician plugged Artoo into the consol, the little droid giving a little squeak. Tasha would normally have laughed, but she was concentrating on the information that sprung up onto the screen. She knew how to read technical read outs, her eyes scanned the black and white lines, her eyes tracing the outlines of the battle station she had just escaped. She let out a low whistle. It certainly was impressive, and she felt almost privileged to be one of the only rebels to be able to see it. As her eyes followed the movements of the lines, the image zooming in, she concentrated harder than she would usually, and she knew why. That goddamn smuggler, Han Solo. Yes, he knew he was self-centred. Yes, she knew he didn't care about anything but his money, but she had been almost certain he would stay with her, for her.

Well, once again she was wrong; just as she usually was about caring about her. Everyone in her past had hurt her, or left her, or tried to kill her. Except for Ben, but now even he was gone too, destroyed by someone who Tasha used to think of as the most important person in the whole galaxy. Now, he was nothing to her; or at least she hoped so. She hadn't yet had a chance to test that, the opportunity had never presented itself. Tasha only hoped that she would be strong enough once the time came.

"There!" said the voice of one of the technicians, watching the images of another section zoom past his eyes. Tasha's head shot up, looking over at the other screen, glad to be distracted again. He paused the image, zooming in on a section.

"What?" Tasha said impatiently, "what is it?" the technician shook his head.

"Oh, no, it's nothing." He said, frowning again. Tasha patted his shoulder.

"Keep at it," she said, placing herself back less than delicately into her seat, "it must have a weakness somewhere."

The screen flashed in front of her, but Tasha was only half watching it. Someone touched her shoulder, and Tasha spun around, swinging her fist in the direction of whomever it was that had touched her.

Han ducked, lifting his hands up in mock surrender.

"Calm down princess," he said, "it's me." Tasha's hard look didn't change, except for maybe a touch more frostiness and a tad of recognition.

"I don't want to talk to you," she said, sitting down in her chair again, making a point of ignoring his existence.

"Please, Tash." He said. She scowled at her screen; the only acknowledgement that she had even heard him was that her jaw tightened slightly.

"Look, lover boy-"

"Captain Ryann, report to the command centre." The intercom binged out to the whole base, and Tasha smirked. She bashed into him with her shoulder as she walked past him and out the door.

"For God's sake, can you stop doing that?!" he called angrily after her. She just smiled sarcastically to herself and kept walking. All the technicians were watching the exchange in some sort of awe or amazement, it was impossible to tell which. Nothing that interesting ever happened in their section, it was reserved for the quiet nerds and old commanders who could no longer work in the mechanics workshops. Han glared savagely around them as they all scrambled back to their work.

Tasha walked into the control room, and was greeted by a group of grim faced officers, whose eyes all followed her as she walked in.

"Ah, Tasha," said general Dodonna, walking over to her and her confused, uncertain expression.

"You sent for me, general?" she asked, her voice conveying as much uncertainty as her face.

"Yes, Tasha. Well, obviously we all know that you are truly a princess, as does Leia, but," he sighed, "do you're, um, travelling companions?" Tasha cocked her head to the side, frowning slightly.