(no subject)

He steps back into the Falcon, well, crawls actually, through one of the hatches in the floor, and once he's certain that she's empty, he makes his way into the crew quarters. The wrapped bundle of bread goes into a storage box where it will stay fresh and won't freeze, and he tucks the small Ratchet plushie in next to his pillow, hidden where nobody will really see it unless they go rifling through his things, which people don't do.

(Not if they like having their hands with all fingers attached.)

For a thief and a beggar, a pirate, a smuggler, and most importantly, a man who made his own rules, Han was rather particular that people followed them when it was in his best interests.

An opportunist, perhaps.

(At the very least, a man who knew how to get what he wanted.)

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(no subject)

"The first transport is away. The first transport is away."

A cheer goes up through the base as pilots and gunners scramble for their ships. Han is busy welding bits of steel together and making sure not to set any more fires when the walls of the base shake softly.

Outside, they've spotted AT-AT walkers approaching.

Each step brings more snow falling from the walls of the base. Cracks start to show as the explosions and blaster fire get louder and louder past the muffled shield doors.

"I don't know Chewie," Han growls. "Whatever it is, it ain't good, that's for sure."

A large chunk falls on the Falcon when word comes that they're going to scramble the last of the transports and evacuate all staff.

"That, there," he barks. "C'mon, we got our clearance to go, now hurry up."

More warbling and groaning from the Wookie, as Han climbs off the Falcon and grabs his comm. "I'm gonna go get Leia. Get her ready to go," he orders, before he runs off towards the heart of the base, amid the falling ice blocks and crumbling snow walls.

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