The Summer Strikes Back, Part 14

“I don't believe this.”

“I do.”

They had only been able to gun the engine for so long before it started to give out. The Falcon finally sputtered to a stop about twenty minutes after they left Ackbar's. Hank's face was nothing less than flabbergasted. “It's not fair,” he whined.

“I told you not to push 'er so hard!” Charlie's deep growl had more in common with King Kong than any actual human noises. “That engine of yours is bloody damn capricious, and you know it!”

“We're doomed!” Chip wailed. “We're all going to die out here!”

Charlie glared at him. “Why don't you be quiet for a change, you bloody arse?”

“No, I will not be quiet, Charles!” the tall blond complained. “Why doesn't anyone listen to me?”

The muscular navigator was checking the charts and scanning the horizon out of the corner of his eyes. “I think we're off Holly Beach Inlet.” His eyes slid to the series of buildings and busy beaches on their right. “I can see the Holly Blossom Hotel and the Pan Pacific.” The bright blue eyes squinted at the blur of dark shapes beyond the yellow sands. “If you really look, you can even see the Pan Pacific's rotating sign.”

Leia wrinkled her nose. “Those relics? They're tacky as all get out.”

“But at least we know where we are now.” Hank cut what remained of the engine. “We'll anchor here and find out what the problem is.” He handed an old blue “Ocean View” t-shirt and tossed it to Leia. “Here. We're going to need all the help we can get.”

Leia pulled it over her tank top. “I'll look at the engine. You check out the electrical system.”

The handsome fisherman gave her his annoyingly lazy grin. “Sure, Princess.”

“Here, mate.” Charlie waved Chip over. “We can check out the valves up here. See if there's any electrical failings with the navigational equipment.”

“All right, mate.” Chip made a face. “I'm going to warn you, I'm not very good with mechanical equipment. Arturro is so much better than I am.”

Hank tossed him a booklet. “Just read the manual. Most of it is in Spanish. We don't understand a word of it.”

“Stop your damn fussin'.” Charlie knelt down under the radar console. “All you've got to do is read the thing.”

“Well, you don't need to be rude.” Chip sniffed. “I'm only trying to do my job.”

Leia followed Hank down below to the engine room. She was no mechanic, but she knew enough about engines from hanging around with Luke and his friends to at least figure out what went where. The engine was older than she was, and likely older than dirt. The valves were clogged with more grease than Chirrut and Baze used for cooking in a decade. She cleaned those as well as she could, then set about tightening a few bolts. The metal pieces, despite the recent cleaning, were stubborn. She had no intention of admitting she might not be strong enough to really make them as tight as they should have been.

Hank leaned over her shoulder, trying to help her with the wrench. She glared at him and shoved him off. “Hey, Princess,” he insisted. “I'm only trying to help.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Leia finally heard the bolts click into place. “I am not a princess.” Her lips sucked at where she'd yanked at the grimy handle of the wrench. A blister was already forming under the heavy black grease. “I'm the niece of a normal hardware store owner from South Philly.”

“Ok, Leia.” Hank shrugged. “You could be a little nicer to me, you know. Sometimes, you think I'm all right.”

“Occasionally, maybe.” Leia wiped her hands on the old towel she found in a hamper in the galley. “When you're not acting like a total jerk.”

“A jerk? Me?” Hank gave her the famous grin as he rubbed her hands, pulling her a little closer. “Maybe you need more jerks in your life.”

Her doe eyes flitted downwards to where his massive hands rubbed her delicate white ones. “Stop that. My hands are dirty.”

His eyes never left hers. “My hands are dirty, too. What the hell are you afraid of?”

“Afraid?” Leia's dark eyes locked onto his ever-changing hazel ones. They were...almost blue, now. “I've never been afraid in my life.”

Hank gently pulled her into his arms. “You're trembling.”

“I'm not trembling.” She couldn't help it. His embrace was warm, cozy, almost...electrical. It was like sparks from the engine had passed between them. “I just like nice men, that's all.”

Hank gently lifted her lips to his. “I'm a nice man.”

“No, you're not, hotshot. You're...” Any remaining protests were drowned out by Hank's lips gently pressing against hers. Leia's knees turned to pudding. This was nothing like kissing Tommy Isolder. It was pure passion, and it warmed her from her head to her toes.

“Mr. Solokowski!” Chip came charging down. “Mr. Bachman and I have isolated the central turbo valve! We may have found the problem!”

Hank glared at the blond nerd as Leia pulled away. The look in his eyes could only be translated as murderous. “Thanks for ruining the moment, Goldenrod.”

Chip gulped and moved back. “I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't realize you were that busy!” He saw Leia hurry past him and into the gallery. “I suppose...I'd better to speak to Mr. Bachman. He, uh, may need me.”

“Yeah.” Hank continued to glare at him, his hands on his denim-clad hips. “You do that.” It only took one look at the raging angry fishing captain for Chip to race upstairs after Leia.

Hank's hazel eyes followed them. He started upstairs, then decided he was better off working on the engine. It would clear his head. He hadn't realized until then how much he loved that girl. She was simply amazing, everything he'd ever wanted in a woman. The kiss had pretty much indicated that she returned his feelings...or did she?

He shoved at a valve. Once they got to Bespin Island, he'd be able to get her alone...and then, they could gauge where their relationship was going. If they even had a relationship. For now, they weren't going to get anywhere until he fixed the damn ship.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Vader was glad the damage to his nostrils made it hard to smell shit. Fett would park at the Crest Marina near Fat Fluke Fisheries, a fish processing plant situated between the Ocean View Bridge and the Holly Beach Inlet Bridge. They'd been cutting up local fish for delivery to far-flung locations for thirty years, and their perpetually incoming product stunk up the whole area. People held their noses or rolled up their car windows when they drove past, even in the dead of summer. The swamps around them didn't help, giving off their own kind of nasty gas.

The guys standing with Fett on the dock down on the edge of the marina looked more like extras from a B slasher flick than bounty hunters. One tall, thin guy with an eye patch moved stiffly, like a robot. Another had bandages on his face and shoulders that gave him the look of a mummy who worked out. The largest guy in the orange jumpsuit was a bald dude with scaly skin and arms the size of Vader's head. He was tempted to ask him if he ever ate Tokyo, but finally decided it wasn't worth having his face mangled worse than it already was.

“All right, boys. You're goin' after Solokowski and that heap he calls a fishing boat. Do whatever you want, but don't kill anybody. You can turn Solokowski and that human ape he hangs out with over to your boss, but I want the chick and the nerd. And the chick better not have any of your finger prints on her.” He turned his visor to Bobby Fett, whose Ray Bans hid whatever expression might have been on his tanned face. “No killing, Fett. I know your methods. Got that?”

Fett only nodded, somehow managing to remain impassive, even in Vader's intimidating presence. “As you wish.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Millennium Falcon finally limped into the Sky High Marina two days later. The trip should only have taken a few hours, but every time Hank thought he could get the engine started, it stalled again. They spent a lot of those days doing repairs or dodging large, annoyed marine mammals. At one point, they almost ran into a shark Chip swore looked like it could swallow them whole.

“My goodness!” The tall blond nerd gasped dramatically as they managed to circumvent the creature. “Did you see that creature's jaws?”

Of course, it didn't swallow them whole. It did leave a nasty bite in the back end of the ship. Charlie tried to grin. “I guess that shark was a tyke cuttin' his teeth.”

Leia crossed her arms, trying not to show how scared she was. That shark was no rubber Jaws. “If that's the baby, I don't want to meet it's mother!”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. It'll be ok.” Hank grinned as another jolt, this time from some rough waves, landed her in his lap. “Hey, babe. Excited to be down there?”

“Captain,” she snapped, “being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited.”

He smirked back at her. “Sorry, sweetheart. Haven't got time for anything else.”

Charlie's amused braying was loud enough to scare a few seagulls lingering on the deck. Chip blushed, then added “Um, ahem. Since we'll be docking soon, why don't you tell us more about your friend? It does seem rather odd that this man is putting us up out of the blue.”

Leia finally climbed off Hank, retreating to the seat behind him. Hank pulled out a tattered book of phone numbers with orange flowers on the cover. “Lance Callahan. Card player, gambler, con man. “ He aimed his lazy grin over his shoulder at Leia. “You'd like him.”

“Sure I would.” She peered over his shoulder at the worn newspaper clipping that replaced her on his lap. “Cloud City? That's one of the most popular dance clubs on Bespin Island!”

“Yeah. Lance conned somebody into sellin' it to him. He manages it with a local DJ and a guy he knows from Mexico.” Hank leaned back in his cracked brown vinyl chair. “Don't worry. We go way back, Lance and me. We both fished on the same ship for a while, before he decided to do jobs that were easier on his clothes.”

Something in the back of Leia's head was giving off warning signs, but she only ended up muttering “Who's worried?”

The Marina they docked at was pretty fancy, much fancier than Ackbar's. Most of the boats surrounding them were yachts and pleasure fishing boats. The grimy old Falcon was an aging minnow squeezed between sleek, silver tunas. Even the dock seemed to have been built recently, with its dark wood boards and nylon ropes and sandbags that didn't reek of the bay.

As they stepped off the splintered plank, a handsome black man with a thick, dark curly mane and a perfectly trimmed mustache strode over to Hank. His look could only be described as what Leia's friends called “preppy” - a blue polo shirt with a gold stripe and the ubiquitous embroidered alligator, perfectly creased tan shorts, and navy boaters with no socks. A gold sweater with a navy-blue collar was draped around his shoulders like a cape. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing eyes the color of thick coffee that were arresting...and not happy.

“Well, hello there, old buddy.” Lance strode up easily, followed by a lanky young man in a loose-fitting Michael Jackson t-shirt, jeans, and headphones, along with several more preppies. “What brings you here? Going to try to win another ship out from under me?”

“I might, but right now, we're in for repairs.” Hank aimed his thumb at the moldering ship behind him. “The Falcon decided she was in the mood to play games.”

Lance put his hands on his hips, nicely encircled by a red and navy striped woven belt. “What have you done with my ship, you old pirate?”

“Your ship?” Hank snorted. “Remember, you lost her to me in that game of poker two years ago.”

They finally ended up hugging each other as Lance's dark eyes lightened. “It's good to see you, Hank. Been waiting for you to come up this way.” He grinned as Charlie took the plank in three long strides. “How are you doing, Charlie? Still hanging around with this loser?”

Charlie brayed again. “He wouldn't know what to do wit' himself half the time if it weren't for me, mate.”

Lance's handsome face broke into a wide, gleaming Big Red smile under his mustache as Leia and Chip made it onto the dock. “Well hello there.” Lance took Leia's knuckles to his lips. “My name is Lance Callahan, an old and dear friend of Hank's. And yours is...”

“Leia Walker.” Leia didn't think she trusted this guy further than she could throw him, but he was at least charming. There had been a serious dearth of charming men in her life lately. The fact that Hank was nearly turning green with jealousy didn't hurt, either.

Hank just smirked and took Leia's hand. “Ok, ok. You old smoothie.”

Chip came up to Lance next. “Hello, sir! It's so nice to meet a real gentleman. My name is Chip Thompson, translator for Miss Maz Kantana at the Marine Adventure Pier. My abilities are...” He finally stopped when he realized he was chattering to the air. “Well, really! How rude!”

He lead them to a dark blue Lincoln Continental parked in the front, where it was most likely to be noticed. “I should have room to put all of you up at my place. I've got a sweet little condo up on the bay, near the Bespin Bridge and the bus terminal. Have my own dock and everything.” He opened the back door for Leia. “Shall we?”

Leia gave him a slightly terse smile. “Thank you.” Lance reached over to help her in, but Hank took her hand and got in the back with her. Chip went in next to them. Charlie called shotgun, mainly because he was too big for anyone to argue with him.

“How'd you like to see the town after we get settled in?” Broken shells used for gravel crunched under the Continental's tires as Lando pulled her onto Ocean Street. “Hank told me you guys sorta left in a hurry. I know a guy who owns a really swank boutique on Ryder Street. He could get us good deals on some nice threads.”

“Sounds good to me,” Chip chirped. “Anything but a boat!”

“I've been wearing the same clothes for two days.” Leia nodded. “I need at least a few things to tide me over until we go back.”

“Charlie n' I already packed. We were gonna leave for the dock right after the block party finished, anyway.” Hank shrugged. “But a night out to stretch our legs and get something to eat that isn't out of our pantry would be nice.”

“And we need to take a better shower than that piddlin' thing we have.” Charlie sniffed himself and wrinkled his long nose. “I'm pretty sure we all must smell like the bloody bay by now.”

“There's a nice little Italian restaurant in town that might be to your liking.” Lance gave Leia another smooth white grin. “Dark, lots of potted plants. Really nice ambiance.”

Hank took her hand. “It'll be great for a group dinner. Thanks, Lance.”

Lance just kept smiling. “Anytime, buddy.”