Log Date:
	1/16/00

Log Cast:
	Han Solo, Chewbacca, Leia, Luke

Log Intro:
	It has been weeks since Han, Chewbacca, and Skeezix went to Nar
Shaddaa in search of the kidnapped Gabrielle Veran -- and for all that the
three have managed to recover Gabrielle, Han, injured in the chase of the
fleeing miscreant who had led them to where Veran had been being held, has
been missing ever since. And Chewbacca, Gabrielle, and Skeezix have stayed
on the Smugglers' Moon, combing the countless levels of the place for the
missing Corellian.
	Now, they've tracked Han to a bounty hunter hideout... and after
a fierce firefight, have rescued their missing friend and headed back to the
safety of New Republic space at last. Much to their dismay, however, they
have discovered the reason that Han has not contacted them: he hasn't 
remembered to, because he hasn't remembered who he is.
	And although his memory has begun to return Han is still in 
battered shape, much to the concern of Leia and Luke who come to meet the
_Millennium Falcon_ when it comes limping home at last....

----------
After harrowing weeks of hunting on Nar Shaddaa, Chewbacca, Gabrielle Veran, 
  and 'Skeezix' Calhoun have finally limped home in much-delayed and rather 
  exhausted success. The original mission -- the rescue of Gabrielle Veran -- 
  had been rather overshadowed by the abrupt disappearance of Solo... and for 
  many days, the distraught Wookiee and human officers have been giving their 
  all to recover the missing Corellian. And the Corellian in question, rather 
  disoriented and exhausted himself, has been napping frenetically in the bunk 
  room towards the aft half of the _Falcon_, waiting for the giant Wookiee 
  who's been hovering so protectively over him ever since hauling him out of 
  the bounty hunters' hideout to tell him they've come home.

Hovering, for a creature as overwhelming in size as Chewbacca is, can't come 
  easily, though that is exactly what the fuball is doing. Expressive blue 
  eyes pin a deep focus on the scoundrel, gaining some much needed rest on the 
  bunk. He'd left him alone for just a moment, having checked to make certain 
  Luke and Leia had received his initial transmission. A soulful but quietly 
  expressed howl comes from the wookie's chest as he lumbers down onto another 
  bunk, while watching Solo. He was definitely relieved to have him back and 
  in one piece.

For the same weeks, Solo's wife, companion and love for many years has allowed 
  herself little time to worry until the last several days. Before that, her 
  concern was an undercurrent in all she did, the NR in crisis with the 
  strengthening of the Empire and her time wrapped up in the post Sluis-Van 
  attack hub-bub. She was about to embark on her own journey to find Han when 
  Leia got the word, one glistening communication among the daily raft of 
  them, that the Falcon had finally re-entered Coruscan space. In her 
  brother's company and support, she made her way through the city levels from 
  the Palace to the port here and now, as she walks back into the bunk room of 
  this most familiar ship, her dark brown eyes are wide, worrisome as her gaze 
  falls first on the mass of fur that is Chewbacca and then the prone form 
  behind the wookie. A sound, a small gasp emits from her coral lips as a 
  small delicate hand raises to her face, the full weight of Han's situation 
  beginning to hit her mind now with some force.

Han_Solo(#1491POUA)
This tall, rangy man is quite battered of appearance, looking like he's been 
  through seven or eight kinds of hell. A recently healed scar just over his 
  left eye suggests he's suffered quite the crack to his forehead as of late, 
  and in addition, he is pale and haggard and carries himself rather stiffly 
  when he moves. His hair is a strange mix of shades of brown, lighter on the 
  ends and darkening closer in; that tumbled mop is in desperate need of a 
  trim. His eyes are strangely piebald as well, somehow intermingled in hue 
  between sky blue and a crystalline hazel. Somewhere under layers of grime 
  and exhaustion might be lurking ruggedly handsome features, but at the 
  moment it's a trifle hard to tell. He takes in everything around him with a 
  strangely confused stare, and speaks in a rough, rasping baritone voice.
He is currently clad in a non-descript dark brown shirt of a coarse weave, 
  held securely round his waist by a battered utility belt off which is slung 
  a blaster holster at his thigh. His trousers are dark green, tucked into 
  scuffed brown boots. Over the shirt he sports a loose jacket of slate green, 
  with a collar he wears turned up behind his neck, and a number of pockets. 
  All of his garments are in a fairly dirty state, though along his upper left 
  shoulder and the collar there are stains of something that might be old 
  blood.
                -=-=-=-=-=-=<<Carried Virtual Objects>>=-=-=-=-=-=-
=> DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol 
=> 890 Galactic Standard Credits 

Luke Skywalker enters behind his sister, his expression both of concern and 
  support for his sister, and an even deeper worry for his friend who's been 
  missing for so long. When they finally pass through the door into the bunk 
  room, he breathes out a long sigh of relief, holding back so that Leia can 
  go to her husband. He's alive, and for that much Luke is grateful. He moves 
  into the cabin slowly, peering over Leia's shoulder to get a better look at 
  the wayward Corellian. "Han!"

The last time Han had looked so badly off, he'd just been recovered from 
  captivity at the hands of no less than three different entities: the CSA, 
  the Dark Lord Sabbath, and the V'ez-tcha in the person of one Grathix. Then, 
  Han had looked just about as haggard, just about as pale, and just about as 
  battered... but then, this man has never been one to do anything by halves, 
  even getting captured. The temporary coloration he'd used on his hair and 
  his eyes is in the process of reversing itself, giving him a slightly 
  strange air that he hadn't had that other time... but still, despite the 
  lingering golden-brown highlights in his otherwise dark hair, despite his 
  wan appearance, he's still quite obviously _Han_. And the Wookiee's call, 
  not to mention the ringing voice of the young Jedi, are enough to make him 
  stir where he lies, summoning him up out of restless slumber. "Wha?" he 
  mumbles, rubbing the back of his hand across eyes that have more or less 
  returned to hazel, though they still carry a shadow of blue. "We there 
  yet...?"

The wookie's hearing is keen enough to pick up on Luke and Leia's approach 
  just a split second before the doors open to admit the two. Chewie too 
  looked bedraggled and unrested. Fur mussed from weeks of less than cursory 
  care, not to mention a lack of sleep. One might safely say Chewbacca had 
  covered more of Nar Shadda in those few weeks, than most residents of the 
  smuggler's moon did in a lifetime. He stands, tiredly, but does so none the 
  less, the excietment of Han's return fading into a worry and a type of 
  "mothering" that the wookie tended to fall into when it came to his 
  honor-brother. *Leia..Luke* Chewie greets in a soft worfle before answering 
  the Corellian. *We're here*

Hearing him speak lifts Leia's heart. Luke's elated cry that stirs Han had 
  begun the elations she is feeling, but the Corellian's rumbling velvet tone, 
  no matter how haggared, take her even higher. Carried on those strong 
  emotions, she moves past Chewbacca, her hand brushing the fur of the 
  wookiee's arm with affection as she goes by. She then carefully sits at 
  Han's side on the bunk, leaning over to embrace him tenderly. She doesn't 
  care how he looks. The fact that he is here and warm, conscious and speaking 
  are all she needs now. "Yes, my darling. You're home," she says, her cheek 
  on his chest. Her eyes stray now to the wookie, gratitude radiating from her 
  towards Han's life-long friend.

Moved by the emotional scene, Luke shuffles his feet a bit and stands closer 
  to Chewbacca, grinning widely. Any guilt over his failure to have found his 
  old friend sooner is lost in the joy of Solo's return as well as his 
  sister's relief. His shoulders relax somewhat, and he glances at Chewbacca 
  just as Leia does. "I hope you'll be able to tell us the whole story," he 
  says to the Wookiee almost playfully. "And yes, Han, you're here now."

For a fraction of an instant, just before the Princess reaches him, Han can be 
  seen to hoist himself up stiffly on one elbow and peer with a strangely 
  uncertain gaze towards Leia and her brother. And then Leia's arms are around 
  him, her face is against his heart, and a surge of consternation and 
  confusion and what can only be wonder crosses his face. "Leia," is all he 
  says, his voice bizarrely small, husky, strained. Sitting up in a rush, 
  ignoring the protests of battered muscles, he crushes the Princess's 
  delicate form against him and turns his face into her hair. "Can't believe I 
  forgot..."

Chewbacca returns the Princess's look with a warm growl. Though if truth be 
  told he didn't quite feel like he deserved much gratitude. If he had stuck 
  with Han in the first place none of this would have happened. *Sure, sure. 
  The whole story, or as much as I know about. Han will have to fill in the 
  gaps once he's feeling up to it.* Chewie returns to Luke. At Han's apparent 
  confusion, Chewie steps forward, offering in a careful tone. *He's having 
  trouble with his memory. Just getting back most of it.*

His memory? Luke looks even more concerned. He reaches out delicately to get a 
  sensation of the state of Han's surface thoughts, wanting to make sure his 
  brain didn't get scrambled by gods-know-what this time. The recent run-ins 
  with Sith trainees have left him a more than a little shaken up. He stands 
  behind Leia and touches her shoulder reassuringly.

Leia is brought to sitting as Han rises. She feels his forehead as if looking 
  for a fever, then rubs the stubble on his cheek. "Forgot what?" she asks 
  lightly, then catching Chewie's growls. "His memory?" she shoots a look to 
  the wookiee, wanting more explaination. "Has he seen a doctor yet?" She 
  looks back to Han, mothering him. "Have you had a medic check you out yet?" 
  Urgency is building in the Princess once again.

There's no heat in Han's brow, but Leia's anxious fingers can find the traces 
  of a mostly-healed gash above his left eye. And despite alleged holes in his 
  recall, the look the Corellian gives her is entirely cognizant, entirely 
  familiar... and entirely sheepish. "Just a little bump on the head," he 
  mutters in gruff and rasping tones. "Yeah, I-I got a little... out of it for 
  a little while, but I'm okay, Your Worship. I'm okay." By way of 
  underscoring that particular sentiment, he then proffers forth an admittedly 
  haggard but still steady edition of his best 'no problem, got it under 
  control' grin. So far as _Luke_ can tell, however, the flavor of his 
  thoughts seems akin to a man who's been stumbling around the Tatooine desert 
  with sunstroke... and just reached an oasis.

*Medic? I was lucky to get him in here to lie down until we got back to 
  Coruscant* Well the truth, stretched a bit. Han's protests that he was fine, 
  were dully overridden by the tiredness of a man run to the maw and back. 
  Chewbacca, reponds in a series of growls and worfles indicating his 
  continuing inistance that Han see a medic. *I think with you here now, we 
  might just get him close enough to a medic.* He places a large be-furred paw 
  on Luke's shoulder, eyes taking in the trio that had become far more than 
  his friends, far more than family for that matter. *If you two will keep him 
  here, I'll find a medic.* Drawing brown furred apendage away, he ruffles his 
  own hair, before turning and tromping off out of the bunk room in search of 
  a medic with enough patience to deal with his Corellian companion.

"Of course we'll keep him here," Leia answers the wookiee's worfles. "You're 
  not going anywhere," she says, looking straight and sternly into the 
  Corellian's nearly now hazel eyes. She shifts again to mothering, shaking 
  her head as she continues to inspect him with her hands, counting his 
  fingers and then looking back into his eyes. "What in all the galaxy did you 
  do to yourself?" If she sensed Luke's reaction to the mention of Han's 
  suffering memory, she doesn't let on, trying to lend Han all her energy and 
  support right now. Though, Luke may sense a question in her own mind. She 
  too hopes no permanent tampering has occurred.

The young Jedi watches Chewbacca disappear, then turns back to Leia and Han. 
  He crouches next to the bunk, balancing his elbows on his knees. Though his 
  mind is brimming with a barrage of questions, he knows now is not the time 
  to ask them. It's better to have Leia being motherly to the newly found 
  Corellian at this point. Still, he has to ask one thing. "Who can we thank 
  for getting you here, Han?"

Solo certainly appears to be in possession of all his digits, though his 
  hands, much like the rest of him, are rather more battered than usual. There 
  are scrapes across his knuckles -- perhaps he's been in a fistfight? 
  Grinning crookedly at the Princess as she frets over him, he promises 
  straightfacedly, "Your wish is my command, Your Worship." Then his slightly 
  bemused, still slightly blue-tinged gaze swings back to the Jedi; he blinks 
  a few more times, seeming to only really now register Luke, now that he's 
  already devoted a lion's share of his attention to the Princess. Staring 
  down at the younger man as though seeing him for the first time, he answers 
  vaguely, "Uh, well... Chewie and Veran and Calhoun, as far as I know... 
  they're the ones that busted me outta that hunter hideout I got dragged 
  into... Chewie says we were lookin' for Veran when I vanished, and um--" 
  Then he abruptly cuts off, looking sheepish all over again, realizing he 
  might have just revealed more than he likes about the state of his memory.

"Hunter? Oh, Han..." Leia's tone mixes horror with disgust. Hard to believe 
  some one actually had the nerve to try and cash in on any lingering bounties 
  on the former smuggler's head. "That's right," she says more gently, coaxing 
  him with frequent combing of his hair with her fingers. "You went on a 
  mission to find Gabrielle. Then what happened?" She is not afraid to ask. 
  Her Worship has an enquiring mind and wants to know.

She's the wife, Luke tells himself, glancing at Leia from the corner of his 
  eye. Let her ask, then. A little amused, he nonetheless expresses concern 
  for Han's recent plight. The time Jabba had him in his clutches was so long 
  ago, yet the memories are freshened by the similarities of this occasion. 
  "Do you remember which bounty hunter it was, Han?" he asks, thinking that 
  with Poguala's recently displayed investigative talents, they might be able 
  to track him or her down.

In an apparently new reflexive gesture, the Corellian rubs his fingertips 
  across his brow where something has apparently recently injured him. As he 
  does he shoots a now vaguely uneasy glance between the dark-haired young 
  woman who is his wife... and the earnest-eyed Jedi who is her brother. "I 
  was chasin' the guy who nabbed Gabrielle... got hit by something, I, uh, 
  it's kinda fuzzy still, can't remember what," he rasps in a tone of 
  self-directed irritation, perhaps at his own vagueness. Then he shakes his 
  head frustratedly towards Luke. "I dunno, kid, sorry... I was gettin' chased 
  around by so many people last few weeks I damn well couldn't tell most of 
  'em apart."

[We paused the log here as Leia had to go. To be continued...]