Missing and Presumed Dead

Attracting Trouble

Han almost wished he was back on the Executor.

Almost.

At least there he wasn't completely out of his element. He had, after all, once been an Imperial. Not that Vader cared. But Leia was there, and being so far away from her while she was in the clutches of Vader--her kriffing father --didn't sit well with him.

Here, on the pleasure barge that was Prince Xizor's mobile headquarters, he was almost totally out of his depth.

Sure, he was used to dealing with crime syndicates. The Hutts. Crimson Dawn. Hell, he'd run into Black Sun a few times, too. But he'd avoided them as much as possible due to their stronger entanglements with the Empire.

Prince Xizor especially. The Falleen had some sway with the Emperor that even Jabba hadn't had. That alone made him lethal.

But he stood in the man's office with a relaxed posture anyway, swirling a drink in his hand.

"You're no longer a wall ornament," Prince Xizor observed from behind his desk, with a grin that definitely didn't touch his eyes.

He gave a non committal one-shoulder shrug. "I don't recommend it."

That got a raspy laugh. "I heard you were a charming one. Han Solo. Legendary outlaw. Though you're missing your furry companion, and your famous ship."

"The Falcon needed some repairs. Chewie should have it done as we speak." Where Vader had gotten the non-descript cargo ship he'd flown here, Han had no idea. He wasn't about to have a ship conversation with the second most powerful man in the galaxy. It was too...normal. But it had done decently enough getting there.

It wasn't the Millennium Falcon, though.

"Yes, I've heard that about the ship, too. A hunk of junk, people call it."

"She's the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy." He tried not to sound offended. He'd rather have a conversation about ships with Vader than get into an argument about them with Xizor.

"I didn't mean offense. I'm just curious why Han Solo, Rebellion pilot and smuggler, is seeking an audience with me." He leaned forward in his seat, blue eyes flashing.

"Former Rebellion pilot," Han corrected, taking a gulp of the drink.

He tried not to make a face. It was...far too sweet. But one thing he'd learned about crime lords: they didn't like it when you insulted their food.

"Former?"

"Yeah. Wasn't in it for the cause. My friend is dead, and the girl I loved..." He trailed off. "It didn't work out."

"Ah." He leaned back again, steepling his fingers over his chest. "Too bad about Skywalker. I expected a more glorious death for a Jedi."

He took another drink. That one wasn't for show. "Yeah. Too bad," was all he said on that subject.

He didn't want to think about what was currently happening to the kid, but it was why he was there. As much as he didn't like or trust Vader, they could agree on Luke, it seemed.

"So who does Han Solo serve now?"

"'Fraid that's confidential, Your Highness."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. All I can say is they were the ones who destroyed Jabba."

Just as Leia predicted, that got the prince interested, though he tried not to show it. "Now that is a mystery that everyone is talking about these days. And you say it's confidential?"