The Back of a Good Pilot - response to a challenge (Fin)

[jedi_master_gimpy]

Hellooooooo. So, as you all know, I have been pretty crazy busy lately, but I was finally able to finish this. It is a response to a very old challenge, which was to "Write a story about a significant event in a main OT character's life."

 

I chose to write about a major decision which affected the rest of said character's life, but in a roundabout view so that you see only the outside signs of the decision process through a fairly short time frame.

 

That said, a warning: This is definitely not my best stuff. It was written, literally, a sentence at a time, over the last few months...pretty sad, eh? Also the reason I have yet to pick up BLU again and probably won't until the end of the semester. I am dreadfully out of practice and it might show itself to be very disconnected, but after taking so long so far, it was finish it as is or quit. So here you are, and please feel free to point out specific areas that could use improvement should I decide to polish it later.

 

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The Back of a Good Pilot

Timeframe: Yavin 4 at the end of A New Hope as the Death Star closes in...

 

They could use a good pilot like you. You’re turning your back on them.

 

“Stick out a hand to help and get it cut off at the wrist, kid,” Han muttered. “The rest of the galaxy ain’t like you.” He shoved the box of credits into place with more force than necessary and then reached back to the second box he’d carried in and gave it similar treatment.

 

A low growl broke the one-sided conversation with a snuffling observation.

 

“They’re cred chips. They ain’t got feelin’s.” Han turned back only to discover that Chewie had grabbed the last of the boxes as the furry body moved past him.

 

Which meant that it was time to go, the inconspicuous metal boxes were the last and most important detail. It was a good thing, too. The sooner he got them to Jabba the better.

 

“Make sure everything’s secure, will ya buddy?”

 

Chewbacca’s disgruntled yowl made it clear that the fact it had to be said was rather insulting.

 

Han waved his hands in front of his chest to ward off the protests. “Hey, all I’m sayin’ is that this stuff is our ticket back onto Jabba’s good side.”

 

Chewie moaned loudly from his position hunched over the boxes of cred chips, sending his shaggy hair dancing about him.

 

“Longer?” Han asked, brows raised. “Any longer and we’ll have every two-bit bounty hunter in the galaxy after us. Luke knows what he’s getting into.” He pivoted on one heel to head for the cockpit, waving a hand vaguely behind him. “Just make sure it’s strapped down, alright?”

 

They could use a good pilot like you.

 

Han focused on the comfortable echo of his boots on the deck as the reverberations pursued him to the cockpit, leaving the accusation to float aimlessly behind. He slid into the pilot’s seat and immediately began flicking switches for the pre-flight checklist, a highly evolved process understood only by Chewie and himself in order to safely maneuver all the Falcon’s modifications.

 

You’re turning your back on them.

 

Han paused, hands jiggling nervously against the console. Then, just as quickly, he was slapping controls in reverse to shut down the barely started systems. He strode back down the corridor, through the main hold and leaned into the cargo hold. “Hey, Chewie.”

 

His copilot lifted his shaggy head from securing the credit tins and snuffled inquisitively.

 

Han jerked his head towards the corridor. “I wanna make sure we’re not gonna have any trouble clearin’ out.”

 

Chewie tilted his head to the side and growled a question.

 

“Nah, flight control’s probably up to their ears in ships. I thought I’d go to the command center.” He pushed away from the doorway to leave but was halted by another question. “How should I know if Her Worshipfulness is there or not?” Han barked out and stomped away from the sight of his copilot smoothing both hands over his head in evident satisfaction.

 

Han made it only a few steps before he pivoted on one heel and stomped back, thrust his head into the cargo hold and jabbed a finger at Chewie. “And take a look at the starboard lifter when you finish, will ya? It’s been actin’ up again.”

 

It was easy enough to find the command center even though he had never been there before: anyone who looked important seemed to be scurrying towards either the flight hangar or command center. He melded into the flow of traffic, quickening his characteristic lope to keep up. The Bothan next to him was juggling an armful of datapads, the woman heading in the opposite direction was barking questions into her comlink. There was no uniform and no-one seemed curious or questioned him, but Han felt the invisible wall which separated him anyway.

 

They could use a good pilot like you. You’re turning your back on them.

 

“Attention all non-essential personnel. Please begin evacuation process.”

 

The message repeated as Han shouldered his way into the command center; everyone was too busy to take notice over whether or not the newcomer should be there. He roamed the room with his eyes until he spotted someone familiar, the Princess leaning over a lighted display next to one of the ranking officers – Dodonna, wasn’t it? A few steps later the buzz near the doorway dropped away and he could hear what was causing the slight furrows on the Princess’ face.

 

“…pull in! ”

 

“Watch your back, Luke! ”

 

His ears perked at the familiar name, despite his attempts to let the snubfighter exchanges wash back out of his conscious awareness; he wasn’t part of it nor did he want to be.

 

“Watch your back! Fighter’s above you, coming in! ”

 

The Princess saw him – her shoulders squared and her lips pinched as she watched him approach. “Did you lose some of your credits already?” she asked derisively.

 

Han purposefully stopped closer than decorum indicated just to annoy her further, enjoying the way her head reared back slightly. Her eyes flickered uncertainly down the length of him before jumping back up to shoot angry sparks, yet she refused to step back from his more imposing height. “Nah,” he drawled, “I just wanted to make sure I had your Worshipfulness’ permission to leave. Didn’t wanna offend my one royal connection.”

 

Leia’s mouth tightened. “I can assure you that you have my full approval. Try not to damage the hangar too much when you blast off.”

 

Han smirked even as his eyes cooled slightly. “Don’t worry, sister, I won’t risk scratchin’ the Falcon.” Without breaking their gaze or giving her time to do more than increase the level of disapproval radiating from her small figure he waved a hand to encompass the various officers talking into headsets around the edges of the room. “Is there somebody in particular I should talk to, to stay out of the way?”

 

Leia took her time glancing around them, clearly calmer when she turned back to him – it annoyed him to no end. “No. Just talk to the control tower and they’ll take care of it.”

 

He cocked his head. “Well, I guess this—“

 

“I’m hit, but not bad. ”

 

The familiar voice caught both of their attentions.

 

“Was that Luke?” Han frowned and moved to tap the shoulder of one of the communications officers hunched at a nearby station. “Hey, was that Luke Skywalker?”

 

“Captain Solo, he said—“

 

The officer blinked up at him and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

 

“Captain—“

 

Han ran his eyes over the console, trying to find the information he was looking for. “Do you have any readings on his ship?”

 

“Well, we can’t get much with the inst—“

 

“Han.” Leia placed her hand on his arm.

 

“What?” he turned to her in frustration. “I just wanna know if the kid’s okay.”

 

Her entire face had softened, she offered a small, sad smile. “You can’t have it both ways.”

 

He looked down at the hand on his arm for a long moment as her words registered. “Yeah, well…” he took a step back and her hand dropped from his arm. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Keep him outta trouble, will ya?”

 

“Goodbye, Han,” she said softly.

 

You’re turning your back on them.

 

He mustered a lopsided smirk which fell slightly short of its normal glory. “Goodbye, Your Worshipfulness.” And then Han Solo did something he almost never did – he retreated. He hurried down the less-trafficked corridors at the same pace as everyone else, now, racing the keen pang of loss and something else that he couldn’t define but tried to outrun nonetheless.

 

When he burst into the hangar Chewie was atop the Falcon, protective mask in place as he welded shut the plating over the starboard lifter. As the Corellian strode over the violent explosion of sparks around the wookie ceased and he lifted the welding mask, cocked his head to one side and growled out a question.

 

“I always get antsy when I have superweapons pointin’ in my direction,” Han grunted. “Done with that yet? We’re takin’ off as soon as I get her started.”

 

Chewie growled and affirmative and flipped the mask back down to finish the seam he was working on.

 

Han retraced his earlier steps to the cockpit to start the pre-flight checklist; this time he didn’t waste time connecting to flight control. “This is Captain Solo of the Millennium Falcon, lookin’ to take off.”

 

“Captain Solo, this is flight control. We’ve been alerted to your departure” – Han frowned – “and have a safe exit vector for you. Transmitting data now.”

 

Han slapped at the blinking light that appeared on the console. “Copy that, control.” He heard the topside hatch cycling as Chewie came back inside. When the wookie appeared in the cockpit he toggled the communications controls again. “Control, the Falcon’s ready to go.”

 

“Hold, Falcon.”

 

A few seconds later they were cleared and Han fired the repulsorlifts. The Falcon rose gracefully from the floor, rotated on its axis and moved towards the large bay doors. They broke atmosphere and headed for the exit vector of their first jump; it required getting free of the gravity shadows of both Yavin 4 and the gas giant it orbited and brought them enough around the planet to see the giant battlestation drawing near and faint flashes of laser fire and occasional explosions, the only visuals of the desperate dogfight which was occurring.

 

Chewie growled.

 

“Millennium Falcon, why have you deviated from your safety vector?”

 

“I know what I’m doin’,” Han grunted to his copilot as he reached across the panel to respond. “Control, we’re just checkin’ things out on our way past.” As an afterthought, “Can you send us your telemetry?”

 

There was only the faint crackle of empty air for one insufferably long minute. Then, “Falcon, you’ve been cleared. Sending now.”

 

The jumble of targets on the sensor feed coalesced from a confusing muddle to a giant ball of red with little green and red dots flittering about it like gnorrt flies on a nerf’s hide. As they watched a green dot fizzled out; there was a small cloud of brilliant color in the front viewscreen to match its demise.

 

“Roger, control. Thanks.”

 

Han kept one eye on the display as he began to curve back towards their exit vector. “Hey, Chewie, when you’ve got the first jump programmed then see about punchin’ in to the squadron frequency.”

 

They could use a good pilot like you.

 

Chewie yowled in relieved agreement; a moment later the cockpit was filled with the loud, tense voice of the pilots.

 

“-eavy fire zone on this side. Red Five, where are you?”

 

“I can’t shake him!”

 

Han’s fingers tensed against the controls at the familiar voice. Chewie whined mournfully. “Yeah, sounded like him.”

 

“I’m on him, Luke!”

 

Han unconsciously began to slow the Falcon as it neared their exit point, his entire focus on the sounds of the battle.

 

“Hold on!”

 

Chewie leaned into his line of sight and snuffled a question.

 

Han flexed his fingers against the controls and shook his head. “We’ve got Jabba to deal with, remember?” Resolutely he boosted up the speed of the sublight engines and double-checked the course laid into the hyperdrive unit. “Get ready to engage the hyperdrive,” he warned.

 

There was a harrumph from the other side of the cockpit but the wookie moved his shaggy paws accordingly.

 

Han paused.

 

“Blast it! Wedge, where are you?”

 

Silence.

 

With a sudden grunt Han spun the Falcon towards the battle with enough force to momentarily overcome the inertial compensator and press them into their seats. “Check the shields, will ya?” he barked.

 

Chewie roared in approval but the Corellian’s attention was already focused elsewhere. The Falcon put on a burst of speed at the smuggler’s demand.

 

“Hang on, kid,” he grunted. “Can’t say you don’t owe me one.”

Edited May 8, 2014 by Guest

[Amidala Skywalker]

Wow! That was great Gimpy!! I'm sure I've told you this before, but you have Han (and Chewie for that matter) down perfectly! Very nice use of the challenge too!

 

There were a couple of little things--"outta" should be "out a" because "outta" means more like "out of" (paragraph 1).

 

Which meant that it was time to go, the inconspicuous metal boxes were the last and most important detail.

 

This should be two sentences.

 

There were a few other little things--none of which I can think of right now. Otherwise, it was really good. Amusing, and it showed a good deal of Han's character.

 

And your Leia was really good too. Especially this line:

 

Leia's mouth tightened. ”œI can assure you that you have my full approval. Try not to damage the hangar too much when you blast off.”

[jedi_master_gimpy]

Thanks for pointing out some of those things, Ami, they're very helpful. Han going back to the Command center is pretty inconceivable with cannon considering how quickly we flipped back and forth to it in the movie, but I thought it was interesting to see him try to say goodbye to Leia...they are so amusing to write together!

[The Jedi Master]

That was awesome, gimpy! I'm glad I ventured in here to read it.

[jedi_master_gimpy]

Thanks, TJM!

[Anakin T Skywalker]

Wizard! Missing scene! I liked how you showed the beginnings of Han and Leia's liking eachother, too.