Men Are from Corellia, Women Are from Alderaan
story by Helen Potter
art by Kristin Brown
PART 2
"This is all your fault!"
"Excuse me? Who insisted that we go before it got dark?"
"And exactly how was I supposed to have known about that blasted dust?" She was definitely on the defensive now.
Han gave her a version of his formerly annoying grin--it amazed Leia how odd it looked on her face. She wondered bleakly if her own expressions showed up as bizarrely on his face. The one advantage she had now was that she could look down her nose at him without any sort of complex maneuvers.
It would help,she thought, if he could even try to look like me.She noted that her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and she wondered if they had been there before Han had taken over her body.
"So, what do we do about this mess?"
With a shock, Leia realized that not only did her voice sound reasonable, but also quite pleasant. Han was at least making an effort to be a good sport about this whole debacle. Racking her brain for a solution, yet finding none, she suggested, "My best guess would be to try to get that lightning to strike again."
"You're hankering after another week in the hospital?" He had managed to get the snide tone right.
"You have any better suggestions, flyboy?"
"Flygirlfor the duration, Highnessness." Her eyebrow achieved a previously unknown suggestive quirk, and Leia wondered momentarily if Han's habitual expressions would give her early facial wrinkles.
"Whatever." As payback, she drawled the words in an excellent imitation of his laconic manner of speaking. "But our best bet would be to give the research team a chance to work on it. At least they might come up with something remotely plausible."
"And in the meantime? Research is not known for their speed."
She looked him deep in the eyes, practically begging him to deny the only obvious solution. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.
"So we're stuck being each other for the time being? Oh, joy and happiness and jubilation!"
"Han, there are worse things than being stuck in my body--such as being stuck in yours!"
"Listen, Princess," he said insultingly. "My body has been working fine and I'm not taking well to your borrowing it." He turned on his dainty heel and flounced out of the room.
General Carlist Rieekan was a veteran of many harsh campaigns against the Empire. And right now he would give anything to be reliving any of them instead of explaining the demands of the Command Council to two of the most impatient people he'd ever known. They were glowering in tandem at him, looking exceedingly annoyed. He tried again.
"I'm sorry, but Security is insisting that this matter not be disclosed. To anybody."
"Why? Do they need that much time to get their puny brains into gear?" Solo asked. The sardonic words sounded freakish uttered in the princess' cool, businesslike voice.
"They merely wish to prevent all knowledge of this incident from reaching Imperial ears. Think what the Emperor could do with this ability." Seeing that Leia was about to start an argument, he quickly added, "The quicker and easier we can clear this mess up, the more time we can have planning the new attack campaigns." She nodded her agreement, her dainty posture contradicting Han's lanky frame.
One down, one to go.Turning to Han, he decided that the only way to convince him was to appeal to the smuggler's sense of humor.
The attempt failed. Carlist decided to make his excuses, fast.
"Besides, the sooner we can have you back to normal, the better! Chewbacca is getting tired of carrying the Falcon'smaintenance load by himself," the general continued.
Only one day into the false identity act, and Han Solo was on the verge of madness. This little body was so damn frustrating! It couldn't reach anything above a normal person's head, it had possibly the shortest stride he'd ever seen, and he now was forced to spend much of his time viewing the undersides of peoples' nostrils.
Feeling as if he were continually banging his head into a duracrete wall wasn't helping matters, either. Stepping out of the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and felt momentarily like a voyeur. Her Worship had been hiding a damned fine body under those pristine shrouds she insisted on wearing. Suddenly intrigued by her simple beauty, he reached up and removed the clasp from his hair. The sight of Leia's auburn tresses cascading over her shoulders was breathtaking. It freed her beauty; she looked younger, more alive.
He abruptly recognized the fact that he was admiring, for all intent and purposes, his own reflection as if he was studying a fine painting at the Imperial museum. He looked around guiltily, even though he knew he was alone. After all, it could be considered bad form to stand around and admire one's own good looks.
Opening the cabinet, he was greeted by an array of jars, bottles, and tubes. What the hell....?It looked like a cross between a pharmacy and a paint store. What, by a Jedi's head, did one dowith plomine foot powder? He couldn't even think of a reasonable explanation for that one. There were some odd-looking, smelly products at the back of the cabinet that he didn't even want to investigate. That did it. With a look of extreme skepticism, he shut the door to the cabinet, deciding there were just some risks even he didn't want to take. Surveying the mass of hair he had unleashed, he realized that he didn't have the first clue how to control it. He knew that Leia braided her hair, but he suspected that doing one's own hair was a very different matter from casually messing up a girlfriend's. He sighed in resignation and picked up the hairbrush.
Solo, you are many things, but artistic in the hair department ain't one of them.He managed a ramshackle ponytail, before deciding to give up gracefully and ask Leia to handle the mess when he next saw her. After that ordeal, dressing his newly acquired body wasn't much of a problem. Anyway, it was a legitimate excuse for rummaging through her underwear drawer. He was marginally surprised by what he found. He had to admit he approved wholeheartedly of her choice of undergarments--simple, yet alluring.
Leia was beginning to realize that being able to tower over everybody was not the blessing it had always seemed to be. Shifting in the cramped confines of the bunk, she tried yet again to rearrange the improbably long limbs she had inherited. To hell with this,she thought, and began the fairly complicated procedure of extricating her legs from the blanket. Standing up, she found that she hadn't been completely successful, for the blanket snared around her foot, bringing her crashing to the cold deck. Gritting her teeth against a string of curses, she clambered unsteadily to her feet. Walking into the 'fresher, she started a search for something to tame the bush that seemed to be growing on her head. The idea of what the careless Corellian was probably doing to her own cherished locks sent a shudder down her spine.
Catching her reflection, she grinned mischievously. She casually flexed a biceps, watching the muscle movement in the mirror. She tried out a few more bodybuilder poses, admiring the clean lines of the muscles. Hmmm, not bad, flyboy.Exiting the 'fresher, she opened his small closet to find only four identical shirts, and two pairs of pants with the red Corellian bloodstripe and two with the gold stripe. Not exactly a fashion maven, are you?
Dressed and ready for action, Leia settled the blaster against her thigh. Its weight was unfamiliar, but in some way comforting. Walking out the hatch to the corridor, her skull cracked on the low bulkhead outside the cabin, making her see stars. Turning to inspect the offending beam, she promptly walked into the open engine pit lying nearby. If this is what Han has to live with,she thought, wincing as an exposed wire gave her a shock, it's no wonder he's developed the vocabulary he has.
At the sound of his pilot crashing around, Chewie ambled out of the cockpit. Surveying her situation, he let out what sounded like an amused rumble. Leia realized that she still could not understand Wookiee; life was about to get very interesting if she couldn't understand a single word her best friend was saying. Leia started to pull herself up, only to wrench her knee in the process. Finally making her way out of the pit, she noticed that Chewie already had the med-kit in hand. The Wookiee whuffed questioningly before applying a dressing to her head. She shrugged noncommittally, hoping it would be answer enough.
Badial wrung his hands in apology, trying to avoid the increasingly angry stares of the two beings before him.
"You are not seriously expecting me to believe that there is nothing you can do in the meantime?" Leia sputtered. Han assumed a fatalistic I-told-you-so look.
"We are devoting as much time and resources to the problem as we can, Your Highness, Captain."
Leia gave a resigned shrug, which caused Han to promptly lose his temper. "Will you quit playing royalty in my body?"
The doctor decided that the oath he had taken to preserve life certainly must include his own. He hastily said, "With the Millennium Falcon'ssensor data regarding the electronic structure of the dust, we'll hopefully understand the situation soon."
Feeling as if he might soon be lynched by an irate Alderaani masquerading as an angry Corellian, Badial continued hurriedly, "However, the problem lies in how to reverse the effects. It may have been any number of random factors that caused this to happen..."
His voice failed him as he realized that neither was listening to him make excuses. To his surprise, it was Han who covered for Leia's behavior.
"Sorry about that, she's a little--unstable."
"Unstable? Listen, you..." Her eyes flashed angrily at this attack on her sanity, particularly as Leia was feeling a bit rattled anyway. She realized she was only making herself appear more ridiculous, and settled for a grudging apology, something Solo's voice didn't lend itself to.
"When do you estimate that a reversal could take place?"
"If all proceeds as planned, then there should be a solution within a week." Deciding that the Alliance could never pay him enough to deal with this, Badial cavalierly showed them out the door before any more outbursts came his way.
Still fuming internally, Leia stalked along the corridor to her office, making herself unpopular with other pedestrians in the corridors. Her brain was conjuring up all sorts of horrible deaths for the doctor, Han, and whichever deity's sick sense of humor set up this whole fiasco. She palmed the door lock to her office--a fairly grandiose name for a room the size of a packing crate. Preparing to inspect a new report labeled SECRET, she sat down and activated the terminal inlaid into the plastimorph desk, and quickly became absorbed in the details of the apparent incompetence of a general named and shamed in a report for the intelligence agency. So engrossed was she in the account explaining how the pompous old twit had kept his job, that she failed to notice when he appeared in the doorway.
"Excuse me. I do not believe you are qualified or cleared to read that report." Leia looked up, aching for a good fight. He was such a stickler for rules and regulations. He was also an unrivaled windbag with a severe dislike of Corellians. The man continued, "Captain, I realize that you may not be a fully involved member of the rebellion, but that still does not give you the right to violate our security protocols. I personally have extreme doubts about your ability to be trusted, and you are not ingratiating yourself to me."
Leia's brain did a quick double take. What the...And then realization dawned on her. Oops, wrong body!She'd probably created a huge mess that would cost General Rieekan much time and effort trying to straighten it out.
But she did note the change in his attitude when he wasn't trying to smarm up to royalty. A little duplicitous, are we, General? Her body, appearing in the doorway, saved her from having to find a plausible excuse. Han had obviously managed to obtain that acid-sweet tone she liked to employ on people she found too contemptible for words.
"Good morning, General. I'm sure your concern for our security is well placed. However, Captain Solo is here to meet with me. Good day." He finished by dismissing the obviously shell-shocked general, who left with his nose in the air and out of joint. Leia wanted to applaud.
"Admit it, you've been practicing," she said drily.
"Once or twice, but don't tell me it wasn't worth it." They exchanged knowing smiles. Leia slid out from behind the desk, keeping close tabs on her legs as she moved.
"I suppose I'd better get back to the Falcon,"she said. "It's all fairly straightforward paper pushing, but call me if there are any negotiations."
"Sure thing," Han agreed, looking none too pleased with this arrangement. "I've explained to Chewie, so you shouldn't have any problems." He grimaced at the thought of what she could do to his beloved ship. Leia nodded and slipped nonchalantly out the door.
Han walked over to the desk and sat down, surveying the paperwork with extreme distaste. He'd never had any use for bureaucrats; it was one of the reasons why he'd turned down the fast track at the Academy. Officers, in his opinion, had all too little to do with flying and all too much to do with making life difficult for those who did. Checking the terminal, which seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to boot up, he saw that it was happily displaying Leia's user profile. His lip twitched in amusement. Did your parents not like you or something, Princess?He'd heard of the Alderaanian tradition of giving ridiculously long names to children, but this one had to have been a drunken joke. Well, well, Senator Princess Leia Leona Lianne Organa! Try saying that in a hurry.
As she walked down the corridor, Leia realized that the fact that Han had been nice to her had brightened her day. Why did he have this effect on her? Why did she continually regret being cool to him when she knew it was no less than he deserved? And why did her heart melt every time he flashed that cajoling lopsided grin her way?
Her mind suddenly registered the attractive redhead walking purposefully towards her. The Command Council had assigned Pamma Rylst to Leia's staff, and in Leia's opinion, the woman was a complete waste of space. She was an expert at appearing to be industrious while never actually getting anything done. Leia really couldn't stand the woman, or the way she was always playing up to Han Solo. Her skin crawled uncomfortably at the enveloping stare Pamma bestowed on her. Meeting her eyes, the ensign raised her eyebrows suggestively, batting her eyelids flirtatiously. Pity she doesn't put as much effort into anything useful. Please let her just walk past.Leia became uncomfortably aware of the number of women who were admiring her backside. Dammit Solo, why do you have to wear such tight pants? Note to self: be much more subtle while watching Han in future.
"Hi, Han, how's the shoulder?" The woman could purr like a Ralltiir tiger. Leia had a sudden impulse to get out of there, fast.
"Uh, fine, I guess."
"I'm so pleased." Lowering her voice seductively, Pamma continued, "I tried to see you when you were in the med-center, but they said you were in isolation."
"Oh, just the docs being stuffy again. Y'know how they are." Leia was rapidly running out of conversation topics.
"Better or worse than Her Iciness?"
Leia's brain kicked into overdrive. Remind me to give you the budget invoices when I get back to work.She figured that she might give herself a few points, and knock a bit of the shine off the other woman's ego at the same time.
"Oh definitely worse. Leia's really not the worst person on the planet to spend two days in bed with." She left the double entendre hanging, enjoying the way Pamma's jaw dropped at her comment. Serves you right.
Luke finished up the checks on his X-wing, closing the engine cover with a satisfied thud. Wiping his hands on a rag he'd appropriated from the Falcon,he proudly surveyed his ship. The Imperials are gonna eat space dust.As he turned to put away his tools, he noticed Leia striding purposefully toward the Millennium Falcon.He was about to call out to her when he saw the expression on her face. It looked as if she was almost glad to be boarding the ship--Han's ship. Something twinged inside him. He had to admit she was spending an awful lot of time with Han--voluntarily, it seemed. A Jedi feels no anger,his subconscious spitefully reminded him. And did this Jedi know Leia Organa?He felt the almost electric attraction between his friends, no matter how they denied it. He was also perceptive enough to realize that their constant bickering stemmed not from a violent dislike of the other, but a fear of discovering what could happen if they were actually nice to each other.
He'd realized long ago that while Han was around, he would always be second best where Leia was concerned. The thought rankled, but he knew he'd have to accept the truth: that they were simply meant to be together. They just hadn't noticed yet. Both he and Chewbacca were deriving great amusement from some of the confrontations into which the princess and the smuggler maneuvered themselves. Not to mention they had a few credits on the long odds at the base bookmakers that Han and Leia would not kill, or maim, or publicly destroy each other. The main betting centered around not ifbut wheneach would happen. Reaching a momentous decision, he followed the sound of the princess' footsteps up the ramp.
As he approached the lounge, he heard what sounded like a typical fight, until he realized that Han was arguing Leia's part and vice versa. Must have been prescribed to them in therapy,he mused. So they can understand each other's point of view. They must have a pretty good understanding though, considering that Han is having no problems reproducing Leia's arguments on his lack of commitment to the rebellion. The gods know she's presented them enough times.Almost instinctively, he reached out with the Force, probing the air between his two friends. The static that flooded his mind from that simple exercise forced him to take a pace back, trying to regain control over his senses. It was as if there wasn't a coherent presence in either of their bodies; instead, a mashed jumble of elements clashed, forming a swirling, encompassing vortex. Shaking his head to rid his mind of the effects of the shock, he quickly dismissed it as an error on his part. That's what you get for pulling all-nighters between missions.
He entered the lounge just in time to prevent a new round of insults from flying. Surprisingly, it was Han who looked more pleased to see him than Leia. Just another strange thing to note about these two since their injuries. He noticed Chewie was an unobtrusive spectator by the other hatch, no doubt enjoying every minute of the show. Sliding into a seat by the holochess table, he attempted to start a nonviolent conversation.
"So, how's it going, Princess?"
Leia looked at Han for a second--Luke almost didn't catch it --and then answered carefully, "Fine, used and abused, same as always." This time there was a definite look of accusation in Han's direction. The smuggler merely glared back at her obvious play for support from Luke.
Unwilling to endure any more taunts that came from her own body, Leia decided to get out of the fight for the time being. "I'm gonna make some kaffe. Coming, Luke?" They were fighting over the Jedi like toddlers and neither of them cared.
As they boiled the water for the drink, Luke finally got to the real point of why he was there.
"Listen, Han, I really wanted to talk to you about Leia." Leia had to stop herself from grinning; she'd always wanted to know what went on in these man-to-man talks. Feeling in no mood to make Han's life easier, she acquiesced.
"Sure, what's the problem, junior?"
"Well, see, she hasn't really talked to me for a while, and I wondered how I could make it up to her. I mean, every time I get close to her, she starts making excuses."
Gee, I wonder why?Leia almost doubled over in silent laughter at the thought of how Han would have felt with Luke trying to chat him up. Luke looked slightly hurt at her reaction. Time to play agony aunt.
"Listen, kid, she's been under a lot of stress lately and she's not quite herself." There's the understatement of the year.."Look, I'll finish up here, and you can go straighten things out with her. Be bold and understanding." That's payback for you, Solo!Gratefully, Luke went back to the lounge. Leia altered her position so she'd have an unobstructed view of the festivities.
Luke went eagerly back to his princess, and sat next to her. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she noticed that Han was gradually becoming more uncomfortable. She had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop her laughter when Luke not quite nonchalantly slid closer to her, and Han desperately slid further away. This game continued until Han was in real danger of ending up on the floor. By this time, Leia was having hysterics at the antics of her friends. Luke slid closer one last time and Han hurriedly jumped to his feet and exited, yelling back over his shoulder, "I think your technique might need a little work, kid."
Han paced restlessly around Leia's quarters. Her Worship obviously had a very puritanical idea of entertainment--the holovid didn't work and he didn't feel like trying to slog his way through a political treatise on the ongoing conflict between two races he'd never heard of. Leia had urged him to spend some time practicing applying makeup; his earlier attempt had made him look like someone had given him two black eyes. Was it his fault that liquid black stuff intended for eyelids was uncontrollable? How the hell did one keep a steady hand to draw lines with black pencils, anyway? In the end he'd given up in disgust, vowing that he'd never again be impatient when a woman took a long time in the 'fresher. He now knew the reasons for that firsthand.
Feeling at a loss he miserably went back into her bedroom, so-called because it held a bed, one of the few items of furniture in the place. He sat heavily on the military-issue bunk and surveyed the bare walls. On impulse he leaned over, wondering if there was anything interesting under the bed, when he caught sight of a small datapad lying down the side of the bedside cabinet. He picked it up and opened it, noting that unlike many datapads, which required a typed password, this one identified the user by a thumbprint. Definitely intended for private viewing only. Too bad that the manufacturers hadn't foreseen the problems that could occur if bodies were swapped. Come to think of it, neither had he a week ago. Solo, you're a considerably wiser person, and just think how much you'll appreciate knowing how desperately boring those staff meetings are.He grimaced at the thought; no wonder they had to train people to be diplomats. The job overcame the pain threshold of normal sentients in minutes.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back, trying to shrug some of the tension out of his shoulders. The datapad beeped happily, and Han saw that instead of the file screen he'd been expecting, the display was a long series of text entries by date. Scrolling through the first one, he realized abruptly that this was her diary, and she would think of a thousand terrible things to do to him if she ever discovered that he'd seen it. Caught in a momentary dilemma, wondering if there might be anything juicy about him in there, and if it was explicit, he glimpsed a few words on the screen. Luke? Why would she dedicate time to analyzing him? That wasn't what he was interested in, as the eager young Jedi was rapidly finding out. For once in his life, he decided it would be more interesting to do the right thing and shut down the program with a click. Must be Her Worship rubbing off on me.
Leia had seen many places in her time--the outrageously ostentatious, the tastefully coordinated, the artistically minimalist, and the militarily sparse. And none of them had prepared her for the headache that was Han Solo's cabin. Or junk pile, as it was probably more aptly called. She'd spent a long time clearing up the various manuals (all starship repair), tools, and carbon-scored pieces of circuitry that he seemed to use as decoration. Currently, she was attempting to extract a drawer from his closet in the hope that it might contain something remotely interesting to do. She had to admit that his arms were incredibly strong--it was just that she'd appreciate the fact more if she wasn't trying to control them.
Her self-defense teacher had once told her that every body is unique; the strengths are there to be exploited and the weaknesses controlled. It was a pity that it was one's own, familiar body he was talking about at the time. The drawer shifted suddenly, catching her below the belt. She bent double, caught off guard by the pain. Of course, it was an injury she'd never had to contemplate before. Whichever woman designed the male body had one hell of a warped sense of humor.Grimacing, she straightened up, moving uncomfortably back to her task.
Upon closer inspection, she noted the jumbled nature of the contents, as if he'd just stuffed things in there that he no longer wanted to see, but couldn't bear to throw away. A sixth sense she'd had since childhood kicked in; she could feel some of his pain from the memories. A pain he obviously couldn't let go, kept to remind him how being alone was beneficial. Picking up a small holocube, she inspected the image of an attractive woman inside. She felt sure that she had met her, or at least seen her. The auburn hair and green eyes were very distinctive, triggering a memory. A Corellian rebel? So Han had known her. A flash of jealousy struck. She wondered how close they had been.
Throwing the artifacts back into the drawer, she shut it with an angry thud. Pacing nervously up and down the cabin, she eventually reasoned that the only intelligent and intelligible conversation she was going to get was if she went to visit herself. If nothing else, it would provide fodder for the numerous scandalmongers currently inhabiting the base.