Han Solo

In a galaxy full of space fairing captains who know their ships, Han stands out among them for being obsessive. From the moment he first sat in the pilot seat, before he could even call the ship his own, he’s been studying it.

He remembers what parts he’s replaced over the last two years and when. And he’s got a fair idea of what’s running down on him, though even the best mechanics can’t foresee every breakdown before it happens … especially not on a ship as persnickety as the Falcon. Han knows which of the hidden panels in his ship screech when you remove them. He could even tell which pads on the walls have a crack on them or what square on the holochess board has a chip on it.

He knows his ship.

However, even for a man who knows his ship as well as Han does, it’s hard to pick out some things. In this case, the something in question is an … optic? Some sort of camera? It’s by chance that he even notices it at all, considering the thing is hardly bigger than the size of his thumbnail and tucked into a grove were some power lines are running. He just happened to catch it out of the corner of his eye while walking up the ramp ...

It makes him wonder when did it get there? Who would have placed it there? The location doesn’t suggest they want to find any of the secret compartments of his ship as much as see who is going in and out. Odd. Does he know anyone who would want to watch every single person who came aboard the Falcon and left? He can’t think of anybody who would.

Anyway, he takes the camera over with him to the small section of the ship that he’s allocated to be the lounge and takes out his phone. He shoots a picture of the small camera in his palm and sends it to the only person he can think of that would be able to offer him any thoughts at all on the subject; the spy who has captured much of his attention of late.

The text that accompanies the picture reads:

Do you know what this is?