"No, Sir, I don't believe we've met."
"Oh, I'm sure we have." Luke corrected quickly, "Very sure."
Again Luke left a long silence as he stared at Han, who shifted uncomfortably, partly at the rocky situation and partly in trepidation, which wasn't Solo's style, Luke reflected. Maybe he was realising that the changes in his old friend were something more than skin deep. Luke narrowed his eyes, letting the moment hang...letting Solo sweat a little for being as reckless and as rash as to think he could get away with this...
Then he cut him a break. "It was... at the opening of a gallery on Coruscant. We spoke about a piece of art... 'Night Battle' by Inego, I think it was."
Han let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Yes Sir, I think you're right. I still have... a copy."
"Really? I thought you'd have sold it by now."
"No, Sir. It has sentimental value."
"I think you overestimate it." Luke said with dismissive finality. "I find I've lost my taste for Inego's work as time has passed. He was always so naïve- trying to paint pictures which didn't exist in reality anymore."
"See, that's what I like about the picture- every time I see it, it's like visiting an old friend."
Luke smiled at that; Solo hadn't lost his sharp mind- though it was wasted if he thought he could change anything here... or return to the past. "Perhaps it's time to move on. I have."
"Thank you Sir but I think I'll keep it... the uh, the artist may not be in favour where I come from, but that doesn't change my own view of him."
"Perhaps popular opinion is right."
"They don't know him like I do." Han said firmly. "Everybody's passing judgement on someone they never met."
"Did. Inego is dead, Petty Officer Solin."
"Maybe..." Han began- But Luke cut him off, voice decisive.
"Oh trust me; he's gone. One cannot come back from the dead."
Han paused for a long time before making one last effort. "That's a pity, Sir. I always thought we had a lot in common."
Luke stepped back, purposely dismissive, bringing the conversation to an abrupt end as he turned about. "You should take care it's not your demise, Petty Officer Solin."
He walked coolly away before Han could speak further, leaving him to lean out slightly to gaze down the row of Officers at Luke's receding back as he left the bay, every Petty Officer in the line-up staring first at The Heir then, when the bay doors finally closed, turning about in unison to look at Han.
Han straightened up again, letting out a slow breath; Now he was sweating.
.
.
.
Han was wandering nonchalantly down the main corridor on the Navigation Level, trying to look like he was sufficiently bored to be on official business, a borrowed automemo tucked under one arm- always handy to pull out and pretend to read when travelling in turbolifts and someone looked like they might try to engage him in conversation.
No more had been mentioned about the uneasy meeting, aside from the Personnel Officer, who'd given Han ten minutes of grief then suddenly changed his mind and decided that it might just be in his interest to suck up to the new Petty Officer who apparently went to the same art galleries as The Heir, and had consequently given Han an easy ride for the next few days. Which never hurt.
They'd gone into hyperspace the first night and no-one in the assorted messes and common rooms seemed to know where, so when the Patriot made a short drop into realspace, offering a chance to gain co-ordinates, Han had decided to go straight to the source and try a little trip to Navigation.
Now he just had to pick a room- there were about thirty so far in the Navigation section; way more than the last time he remembered being on a Star Destroyer, but then he'd never actually been on a Super Star Destroyer- He smiled a lopsided smirk at that; actually it wasn't true; he'd been taken to Coruscant onboard the SSD Executor with Luke... they just hadn't seen much of it.
And now the kid from Tatooine owned one of them... had been given it by Palpatine himself. Funny how the galaxy turned...
Han finally chose a room at random and wandered in, looking busily down at his automemo screen as the door slid shut behind him. He risked a quick glance up, but there were only four men in the long, deep room, none of whom were looking. The nearest was stood before a screen of what looked like it might be useful info, so Han walked up casually, glancing back to the automemo as if reading it.
"Hey, I'm looking for Lieutenant Antilles?" Han picked the name of Rogue Group's Flight Commander at random.
"Antilles?" The non-com shook his head, "No- not here."
Han raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "Doesn't work this shift?"
"Doesn't work any shift, Sir- not in here."
"Great." Han feigned frustration, glancing about, "Does anyone know him?"
The man finally turned away to the others, giving Han an unguarded look at that screen. "Anyone know a Lieutenant Antilles?"
As the non-com's spoke, the door behind Han whispered open and he heard light footsteps. Turning casually, he recognised the man immediately; he'd taken the time to shoehorn all the leading players in the Patriot into his head before he'd set off but even without that, Commander Wez Reece was a well known figure around Skywalker these days, having risen from something between a bodyguard and an Aide to Adjutant-General of The Heir's household.
Han glanced away immediately, looking back to his automemo, and the man walked by without a second glance, heading to the input console at the far side of the room, all the non-com's immediately trying to look busy.
Han stared at the automemo in his hand until the backlit screen burned into his vision, wondering how soon he could retreat without drawing attention to himself...
Finally he looked up to the man beside him, "Ya know what, I think I need to check that name. Don't worry about..."
Wez Reece glanced back then away... then, as if changing his mind, he looked up again; "Can I help you, Lieutenant?"
Uh-oh. "No thank-you sir. I'm just trying to track someone down- it's not a..."
"Who?"
"Oh..." Han stared again at his automemo; well this wasn't going well... "Lieutenant Antilles. It's not a problem; I'll just..."
Reece stepped around the console, heading toward Han.
"Lieutenant Antilles is in System Analysis." He drew level, head set slightly to one side, "Let me take you- I'm passing right by it."
Han stared for long seconds at the big, bulky man...
"Thanks." He said at last, and fell into step behind him as he headed for the door - what else could he do?
They walked in silence down the long, gray corridor, Han wondering firstly what the hell was going on, secondly, who this Lieutenant Antilles was - what were the chances of there really being someone with that name onboard - and lastly, more realistically, if he could take Wez Reece down and get off the Destroyer before they caught up with him.
He slowed as they reached Systems Analysis, but the tall man kept walking, so Han stopped, pointing at the door, which slid open, "Uuuhh?"
"This way please, Lieutenant." Reece turned away and continued, leaving Han to stare after him.
See, now this really isn't good. Han reflected, glancing momentarily inside before stepping away and continuing behind Reece.
They walked in silence to the turbolifts and travelled in silence to who-knew-where. By now, Han fully expecting to come out into a room full of stormtroopers- or maybe the Detention Level; just cut out all that chasing around and take him straight there then arrest him.
He leaned back against the wall, feeling the reassuring push of the small holdout blaster he wore concealed beneath his jacket at the small of his back. His expert eye had already clocked that Reece's expensive, perfectly tailored clothes couldn't quite conceal the blaster he wore in a shoulder-holster beneath his own jacket- and he was pretty sure the guy also wore a vibroblade or something at the small of his back. He stood like a soldier too, back straight, shoulders just slightly tensed, expecting trouble. He turned to glance at Han, who tried an easy smile; it wasn't returned.