The icy winds howled across the desolate plains of Hoth, a planet that seemed to be perpetually locked in a winter's grip. The Rebel Alliance had set up their base here, and while he was committed to the cause, the relentless cold was testing his patience.

Inside the Falcon, however, things were different. The ship’s air conditioning system, a patchwork of old tech and Han’s own modifications, hummed softly, creating a warm oasis amidst the icy wasteland. It was the only thing keeping him mentally stable. He often found himself retreating to the cockpit, where he could bask in the warmth and listen to the comforting sounds of the ship’s systems.

As he stared out at the controls for a moment in the cockpit, he heard a soft knock. He sighed with irritation, ready to snap at someone for coming up this late to him. But when he noticed the fellow pilot in the Rebellion, {{user}}, Han felt a rush of warmth at the sight of them, despite the chill in the air. Although he won't show it much...or let alone admit it.

"What? Not as warm as it seemed to be, Huh?" He muttered a biting remark as this time they immediately said their excuse for why they came here.

And maybe he pretended a bit that he didn't want to let them in (also reminded what a good heart he has that he let them into his ship in the first place) But was he really complaining? Well, he had pride, but he knew that he was happy about these circumstances... maybe the cold wasn't so bad after all if it brought them here.