Academy Days
By Kate Jinn

Prologue: Departure

Imperial Academy

"Hard-Nose Hansen's exams are *brutal,* Meela Tarkin complained as
she and Han Solo sat down across from each other at a table. Dipping
her spoon into a bowl of soup, she stirred seasonings into it before
tasting it. She made a face. "Bantha meat," she complained, pushing
the bowl away.

"It's cheap. Banthas are plentiful on Tatooine," Han agreed,
avoiding his own soup and poking a fork into the unappealing slop on
his plate. He took a bite and made a face. "Yuck! Weekday lunch
specials," he said. Meela picked up her sandwich and handed half to
Han.

"Whad'ya get on Hard-Nose's last exam?" Han asked. She glared at him.

"I failed it, as usual. He has some kind of grudge against me
because of my father," she said bitterly. Han nodded. He knew Meela
resented being judged just because her father happened to be an
ambitious Moff.

He and Meela had been seeing one another for the better part of a
year and Han was in love with her. He knew she felt the same way,
and he hoped that when they graduated next year they could make a
life together somewhere. He studied her face and was surprised to
see sadness in her eyes. She met his gaze after a long moment.

"Han...I got my papers this morning. I'm being shipped out next
week, after grad, to start my new assignment." Meela was a year
ahead of Han and graduated this week. He'd hoped she would wait for
him. He stared at her, uncomprehendingly, for an endless moment.

"Where?" He finally managed. She sighed.

"Star Destroyer Executor, at the request of Lord Vader himself."

"The Executor? Meela, that's wonderful! It's the best ship in the
fleet, everyone knows it!" Han exclaimed. She looked down at the
food she'd barely touched. "Are you all right?" Han asked. She
looked up, meeting his concerned gaze.

"I received a message from Lord Vader, Han," she told him
quietly. "I've been assigned to Executor for an extended mission.
Vader wants me at his beck and call because of my intelligence
training. There's been a lot of unrest in the outer colonies, and
Vader wants to tighten the Empire's grip. Things are changing,
Han... and Vader wants me on his ship."

"When... when will I see you again?" Han asked as the unbelievable
words set in. She sighed.

"Han, an assignment to Vader like this is usually a lifetime
commitment. I guess what I'm saying is... unless you're assigned to
Executor, you won't," Meela said miserably, trying to hold back
tears. She loved Han, and telling him this was harder than anything
she'd had to do before. She looked into his eyes and saw her own
misery reflected there.

***

Part I: Arrival
Star Destroyer Chimaera
15 years after the destruction of the second Death Star.

Meela Pellaeon stood next to her husband, staring at the Millennium
Falcon in disbelief. She'd been on the Executor fifteen years
earlier when Vader had captured the Rebellion's Princess Leia, and
Solo and Skywalker had come to rescue her, but she hadn't seen Han
then. She'd stayed on the Executor while he'd been on the Death
Star, not trusting her own feelings enough to face him. Then, ten
years ago, she'd been a weapons officer on the Chimaera under then-
Captain Pellaeon and Grand Admiral Thrawn. She knew from his reports
that Thrawn had seen Han then, but she hadn't... now, she was
Chimaera's second in command and seeing him was, unfortunately,
inevitable.

Meela, now an Admiral directly under Pellaeon, had served aboard
Chimaera for twelve years, virtually the only experienced officer
besides Pellaeon himself. When she came aboard, she'd been a
Commander and the Weapons Chief, transferred after an extended
recovery at an Imperial base after the Executor died. Meela had
barely managed to escape herself, and only then with severe injuries.
Her life pod had not been fast enough and had been caught in the
backwash of the explosion of the unfinished Death Star. She cringed
at the memory.

Three weeks later, she'd woken up with a severely damaged right leg
(that had taken three years to regenerate the necessary tissues and
muscle) and a serious concussion. The next day, she had met
Pellaeon, who had transferred her to Chimaera and eventually became
her husband.

Now, the Executor was dead, she was an Admiral and not only the
second in command of Chimaera but of the entire Imperial fleet (what
was left of it) and face to face with a ghost from her past. She
wanted to grip Gilad's hand but knew better than to do so on the
bridge of his ship. They were perfectly professional while on duty
despite their marriage of eleven years. He turned to her.

"Admiral, take a couple of stormtroopers and meet our guest, would
you?"

"Yes, Sir." She spun about in a perfect military turn though she
could feel Pellaeon's eyes on her. She suspected he was, as he often
did, remembering the glory days of the Empire. She strode off the
bridge, motioned to two of the stormtroopers nearby, and headed for
the docking bay.

***

Part III: Ghosts

They were met in the docking bay by another squadron of
stormtroopers, who had gained access to the Falcon and were holding a
struggling Han Solo. It took every ounce of Tarkin willpower in
Meela not to turn and run when she saw him. Even after so many
years, it was hard to face him.

"General Solo, I bring greetings on behalf of Supreme Fleet Commander
Pellaeon. He requests that you join him on the Bridge." Taking
comfort in her military voice, Meela felt it safer to stay in the
present than to bring up the past. Han's opinion apparently differed.

"Meela... by the Force, it *is* you."

"I thought you didn't believe in that hokey religion, Han." She
allowed him he smallest of smiles, ignoring the stormtroopers looking
on in confusion. None dared question her.

"Meela, I..."

"Do not disrespect the Admiral," one of the stormtroopers said,
moving to hit Han. Meela held up hand.

"It's all right, Lieutenant. Han and I know each other too well for
that kind of formality. At least... we used to."

"Yessir," the trooper apologized quickly, stepping back. Meela
sighed.

"It *has* been a long time, Han."

"I hear you're Admiral Pellaeon now," he said. She nodded.

"Gilad and I are very happy. I hear you married Princess Leia," she
said, deliberately mispronouncing Leia's name, saying it "Leeah" like
her father. Han nodded, apparently ignoring the mispronunciation.

"Leia and I are happy too," he told her, saying the name right.
Meela ignored the correction.

"Good. If you'll come with me, Admiral Pellaeon is waiting," she
said, gesturing. Han looked at her.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"All right then. Lead on." Han followed her, escorted by the
stormtroopers.

***

Part IV: Memories

Meela lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling while Gilad snored in
an exhaustion-induced coma next to her. Oblivious to his wife's
internal struggle, he slept soundly. Giving up, Meela rose from
their bed and dressed, glancing at the chronometer on her way out of
their quarters: 0300, three o'clock in the morning. Meela started
her shift at five, so she may as well give up. She made her way down
to the detention level.

"I want to speak with the prisoner," she told the bored guard, who
let her in with an unemotional

"Yes, Sir."

Han sat up as she stepped into the room and used her access code to
disable the security camera. She sat next to him on the edge of the
bed, saying nothing.

"Here to interrogate me, Admiral Pellaeon?" he asked her bitterly.
She shook her head.

"No, Han. I'm here as Meela, not Admiral Pellaeon."

"Then what's up?" he asked curiously. "I should think you'd have
forgotten all about me by now, being married to the Supreme Fleet
Commander," Han said, uncharacteristically snide. She glared at him,
offended.

"I didn't marry Gilad for his position, Han Solo! You should know me
better than that. I love him!"

"You loved me once." His voice was bitter. She sighed.

"Yes, I did, Han," she admitted. "But it was a--"

"Long time ago," Han finished for her, still bitter. She nodded.

"Yes, it was."

"Then why did you come here?" he asked her.

"Because... oh hell, Han, I don't know. I guess... we've been
through too damn much to end like this."

"You're the second in command of the Imperial Starfleet. I'm married
to one of the leaders of the New Republic. I don't think we have
anything more to say to each other."

"Fine," she said, glaring at him. "I thought you might like a
friend, being in here. I guess I was wrong." Fighting tears, she
stood, activated the camera and motioned for the guard to open the
door of the cell. She left without a backward glance, leaving behind
the man that part of her still loved.

***

Part V: Release

The next night, Meela, in stormtrooper armor, came and silently led
Han out of his cell. A blaster in his face, he followed her
obediently and realized with some surprise that this silent
stormtrooper was taking him back to the Falcon. Meela had left
orders to let the ship go, and stood watching as Han climbed back
aboard without so much as a backward glance. She handed him back his
blaster, then turned and walked away, and stood by the viewport
watching as he flew out of her life for the last time.

"Meela." The hand on her shoulder made her turn to see Gilad
standing close beside her. He knew. Pulling off the stormtrooper
helmet, she met his eyes, almost afraid--but to her surprise he
wasn't angry.

"I had planned to release him anyway," Pellaeon told her. "I just
want to know why you did."

"Because... I loved him once," she admitted, hesitating as she
searched for words. "I... I'm sorry, Gilad. I just couldn't stand
to see him stuck in a cell. Letting him go... I was letting go of my
past, Gilad... and saying goodbye."

"Then... he's no longer a part of your life? Even in your dreams?"
he asked her hopefully. He'd known there was some part of her past
she still clung to, someone else she had loved, but she'd never told
him who, until now. She shook her head.

"No more, Gilad. He's just a ghost now. I love you," she told him.
They kissed, then... the first kiss they'd shared without Han Solo
haunting them, and they both felt the difference, the new meaning.
Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to his touch.

That night, for the first time since her academy days, she slept
well, wrapped in Gilad's arms.

~Finis~