Inspired by a conversation with tumblr user AbsolXGuardian, and betaed by tumblr user tabaaha.

Note: Han is a time traveler here. He is traveling from before Solo even started, to the time of TFA. That means he is coming from the very very best period in his first relationship, and entering a time period where his older self is married to someone else. As a quick glance at my author profile and other fics would show you, I am a Han/Leia shipper. That is the lens I am writing from. However I really do love Qi'ra as a character, and Han is beyond head over heels for her at this age. She isn't in this fic herself, but Han thinks about her and their relationship a lot.

This is not a shippy story. It's a gen story. I want to explore Han as a character and have fun with him. Any shippy stuff in the story is not the main focus of the plot at all. However, again, I am myself very much a Han/Leia shipper so it is coming from that perspective.

Warning that this story contains major spoilers for the book Most Wanted by Rae Carson, which is set a few months to a year before the opening scene of Solo.

Not too bad a day, if Han said so himself. He'd caught a rat, and brought it by Old Man Powlo's place to split. Honestly, it seemed like a lot, but he owed the guy. Hell, he owed the guy for the laugh he'd gotten when Powlo'd called Qi'ra ugly alone, much less everything else the weird old alien had done.

"Han, friend," Pawlo said, mouth full of rat, "is'good."

"Yeah," Han responded. "Real good."

Sometimes when eating food like this, Han would shut his eyes and just picture how one day he and Qi'ra would be out of this place for good. Get their hands on a ship, and never look back. He'd never even gotten a good look at the stars before in his life. The thick smog of Coronet's industries blocked all light from the sky, so there was no sign of the stars even when he was sent on tasks outside the sewers. But one day, he'd be living among that imagined splendor, and what could possibly be better than that?

Somehow that thought always seemed to make his food taste better. He wasn't sure how that trick worked, but it did and that suited him just fine. The more he slipped into fantasizing as he ate, the better the food tasted.

Especially when he imagined he was actually eating at one of the fancy restaurants they had up on the street level of the city. He'd heard that there were even people at those places who'd send food back if it wasn't hot enough or too hot or who knows why. Han'd never turned a meal down before and he no intention of ever doing so, but wouldn't it just be wild to one day beable to? To be able to eat something other than rats or dog food, and to be picky about it. He squeezed his eyes tight, and thought about it, flying across the galaxy as he pleased, and eating real food.

Han swallowed his mouthful, went to take another bite but… something caught his attention. The smell was gone. Han may be used to the smells of the sewers, but he still noticed them, and the smell was definitely gone. His eyes flew open and... wait… this wasn't old man Powlo's. What the krizz was going on here?

Looking around frantically, Han found himself in an empty room. He stood quickly, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Was it just him or did the floor seem further down than it normally did? The room's proper occupant had left a huge plate of food on the table. Nicer food than anything Han'd had to eat, at least since his parents died. No way anyone would just abandon food like that. Whoever it was, they must have left here in a hurry. Well, their loss. Han got to work demolishing the food, looking around the strange room he found himself in as he ate. All told the room was pretty empty. Lots of clothes scattered all over. There was a bed in the corner, nicer than anywhere Han'd ever slept, ever. It had a blanket, and pillows, and a real mattress. All of the works, all at once.

There was a banging noise at the door, and someone shouted in… Was that Shyriiwook? The occupant of this flashy space was a Wookie? No, that made no sense. The food was all wrong for a Wookie's diet. Under the banging and the Shyriiwook and everything, really, Han heard an odd humming noise, constant like some sort of generator. Or a ship's engine. Was he on a starship?

He tried to parse out what the Wookie on the other side of the door was saying. He'd only just started to really study Shyriiwook recently, after all that business with the Engineer, so he wasn't anywhere near fluent. Still, he knew a few words here or there from Wookies he'd delt with over the years while running errands for Lady Proxima. That was how he knew the Wookie on the other side of the door was talking about something to do with… Finding something he'd lost? Huh. He listened for more words he understood, and recognized his name. Whoever it was the Wookie was trying to talk to, they were also named "Han." That was one hell of a coincidence.

Han moved to open the door and let the Wookie know he had the wrong Han, but something stopped him dead in his tracks. A mirror, positioned right by the door, reflecting a stranger's face back at him.

No.

Not a stranger's face, not quite.

It was still his face, but so much older than Han ever expected to be. It was a Force-blessed miracle for a Scumrat to even make it to twenty, which was part of why he and Qi'ra had so desperately wanted that position of Head. It had been the best way increase their odds of making it any longer. At eighteen years of age, Han knew that unless he did something drastic, the end of his life would soon be upon him.

Except apparently not.

The man staring back at him was way past twenty.

He wondered how old he was. He didn't have much to compare things to to judge his age. Something told him he was older than thirty, or even fourty. Both seemed so impossibly old.

The Wookie bellowed something about the ship again, his voice sounding further away from the door, and Han stepped out of the room and into the hall.

Han vaguely recognized the specs of the ship from when he'd been a toddler and his father was still alive. His dad had taken him on some tours of his work. The man had been so damn proud of that job, and had thought his son would one day follow in his footsteps and work at Corellian Engineering Corps. Han liked to fudge the truth of course, tell people that his dad had told him not to follow in his footsteps and be a pilot instead. He could tell no one ever really believed him when he did, but he felt like the more he told his version of events the more that story supplanted what had actually happened. His dad had been a mean drunk devoid of any sentiment, and the only fragging thing he'd really cared about had been that job. Well that job and the idea that his son would one day work there too and transform into some sort of carbon copy of him. Of course it hadn't worked out like that, not at all. Han'd do anything to make sure he never became anything like that man.

Still, Han remembered the ship type - Baleen-class bulk freighter made by CEC - well enough to figure out where the cockpit would be.

The Wookie was seated there, gesturing excitedly at another CEC made ship just outside the viewport - a much smaller and intensely beat up YT-1300f. Han may have lived in a sewer and been cut off from Corellia's industry, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of offense on the part of his homeworld for just how trashed the thing was. This was what the Wookie was excited about? Could that piece of garbage even have parts worth salvaging?

It didn't hold his attention that long, honestly. 'Cause the backdrop of what else was out that window? It was way more appealing than any junker could ever be. Space. Stars. Freedom.

Like the lights of the ships being worked up in Coronet's sky, just a millionfold over and laid out against a pure black backdrop. He'd imagined this sight more times than he could count, every damn night gazing at a sky full of smog. It wasn't his very first time seeing the stars from in space, of course it wasn't, but it was close, and somehow it exceeded his every last expectation.

The Wookie was still acting all enthused, gesticulating at the ship, so Han groused out a "I see it, I see it!" hoping to get him to shut it. His voice sounded strange, all low and rumbly and old. Stang, what the hell was going on here anyway?

The Wookie had more excited chatter, but Han ignored it, his head hurting from trying to understand a language he still hadn't fully mastered alongside, well… His confusion with the situation in general.

Not sure he'd be able to understand the answers if he even asked the Wookie any of the questions he had, he declined to comment, just staring at the smaller ship slowly entered the Baleen-class freighter's hold.

Wait. No way a ship the size of a Baleen had a crew of two. Sure it could be operated with a two person minimum, but these things were intended for at least six for its systems to run smoothly. Where were the others who should be here? Just what kind of jacked-up pirate situation was he a part of?

More importantly, who were they working for? Had Lady Proxima expanded the cartel from a local operation into a galactic one? Had he found a way out, changed his colors, and started running things for some other gang? At least he could rule out joining up with the biggest gang of them all, the Imperials, what with the Wookie there and all. The Empire didn't tend to take too kindly to the big guy's kind. Best case, he and Qi'ra had really done it, had gotten out and made it. He wondered where she was, wasn't like her to just trust the operation to others. He would have thought she'd be in the cockpit being her usually bossy self.

She must be wherever the rest of the crew had gone.

The Wookie left the cockpit, and Han decided to follow him. It wasn't like there was anyone else around, and being left alone in this strange old body in this weirdly empty ship just didn't seem right at all. His body ached as he walked, joints he'd never given much thought to before making sure he didn't forget their presence.

Had he any question about this body being his own, it was that pain that strangely assuaged those worries. Through all the otherwise strange aches, one of them mirrored an injury he'd had in his arm a few years back when tussling with Rebolt. The damn injury had shot pain through him for months after that, Han'd had to work doubly hard to make sure it didn't impact his usefulness to the White Worms and thus mean his death. He could never forget it, that injury had taught him to be careful and never let himself get hurt like that again. Damn arm was hurting like it had back then, in the exact spot. It was the same injury come back to haunt him, no question about it.

The Wookie asked Han about his blaster, and with a grin Han felt one strapped to his side. He must have gotten pretty high up then. Which, given the age he'd apparently lived to, was no surprise. But still, he'd never been important enough to have a weapon like that before. He had survived by his fists and wits alone for as long as he could remember, it was comforting to know he now could back things up with plasma if need be.

With startling familiarity the Wookie opened the entry hatch of the YT-Freighter, banging at the ship's side as the ramp lowered, like one who was expecting mechanical trouble and already knew how to deal with it. Had Han not seen the guy scoop the thing out of space just now, he would have thought he owned it.

Cautiously the two of them crept onto the ship, and Han had to wonder - again - where the rest of the hauler's crew was. Hell, where was the YT's crew, or was the ship they were hijacking a full-on ghost ship? There was a clang under the floor, as if to answer Han's internal question. There was someone onboard then.

The Wookie gestured at Han, the fact they'd worked together enough to have a whole unspoken language between them was pretty clear. With one mighty jerk the mangy guy lifted one of the floor panels, revealing the two occupants within.

"Where's the rest of ya?" Han asked, hopeful that not every ship in the future Han was hallucinating was actually crewed by just two people.

The two crew members - Human, both of them, and around Han's age (his real age, not the strange older one he now seemed to be) - made all kinds of noise about defending themselves, and being fugitives. They shut up real fast when the Wookie said something to them in Shyriiwook about someone named Chewbacca and there was Han's name again and something about a bird? At the very least, Han learned the big guy's name out of that. He was sure it would come in handy.

Whatever he said, the pale Human they'd uncovered seemed to understand it, face going wide with shock and awe. "This is the Millennium Falcon!" She exclaimed. "And you're Han Solo!"

Solo? What the kriff was that? Only name Han had was his first one. If anyone had ever asked him for more than that, he was just Han of the White Worms, or Han the Scumrat.

Solo.

Huh, he almost liked that. It suggested he wasn't affiliated with anyone, that he was just on his own. There was only one problem though - how could he be Solo if he had Qi'ra by his side? Where the kriff was she?

"Han Solo!" The other Human cried. "The Rebellion General?"

The WHAT now?

As if addressing just how absurd that sounded the first Human scoffed. "No, the smuggler!"

Yeah ok, now that he could see. Getting a ship and making a name for himself moving goods. He always knew he would be an excellent pilot.

Not satisfied merely stating his job, the light-skinned Human continued, starstruck it seemed. "This is the ship that made the Kessel Run in under fourteen parsecs!"

Fourteen? Seriously? Kriff he knew he was good, but that good?

Han grinned, chest puffing out, content to absorb this praise.

The Wookie - Chewbacca - gave him a weird look, like he was expecting Han to deny these claims or something. Which, let's be real, even if they weren't true he'd happily take credit for them. No shame in gassing up one's own rep. Things like that could be the difference between starving forgotten in the gutter and moving on up in the ranks.

The other Human, the one who thought Han had been a General of all things (and for a Rebellion? A Rebellion against what?) turned to them with confusion. "Weren't you a War Hero?" He asked, and Han had to laugh. Imagine, a gutter trash thief like him, being called a Hero!

"Nah, not me," he shook his head, certain that no matter how old he'd gotten that would never be true. Although, he didn't know about the Wookie, did he? Weren't they supposed to have been warriors or something, way back when? The guy did look upset with Han's pronouncement, so Han waved a hand in his direction. "He might've been a Hero, sure, but not me."

The Wookie's expression only got odder at that, blue eyes scrunched slightly as his head tipped to the side, whining something at Han. Han had clearly misspoke, he guessed the jig was up. Thankfully the girl seemed to understand Shyriiwook, better than Han could in any case. If need be he could always ask her to translate Chewbacca's speech into Basic for him.

The four of them stood there, staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before a thought occurred to the girl and her face perked up with delight. "We could use your help!" she said. "The droid with us has to get to the Resistance base as soon as possible!"

Ok, he could negotiate this, he supposed. They thought he was a smuggler, and they needed something smuggled. He had no karking idea where this Resistance was or what it was or anything like that, but they wanted to hire him for a job - the very type of job he'd always dreamed of having, and he didn't really want to turn them down.

"Yeah? How much you offering?" He responded, hoping to get a good price for transporting the goods.

The Wookie's surprised squawk really made no sense at all.

"We don't have creds to offer you, but this is really important," the guy said, frowning at Han. "The droid's carrying a map to Luke Skywalker." He said that name like it had meaning. Like Han was supposed to know who this Clodplotter guy was.

Everyone was giving Han weird looks now. "You do know him, yeah?" the guy asked. He really was acting like Han never hearing of this guy was weird.

Before he could tell the man to shove it, Chewbacca interrupted, asking follow up questions about the claim the droid had a map and all. The girl translated, letting them know that the Wookie said the two of them did in fact know this Luke guy.

The guy nodded, looking serious as could be, facing Han. "So you are the Han Solo that fought with the Rebellion."

Han didn't know how to respond to that, so he shrugged, ready to give a non-committal response. He was interrupted by a banging noise from the heavy freighter they had just left.

Everyone stared at him for a long awkward moment, and when he didn't say anything Chewbacca began to move toward the door. He said something about… About rathtars being loose? Oh kriff no, nope, no way, Han was not getting back onto the heavy freighter if there were rathtars roaming the halls, no thanks.

Wait, oh frag, what if Qi'ra was still on there?

Thankfully after the girl had translated the Shyriiwook for her companion, he asked the question Han wanted to but couldn't without throwing off a potentially delicate situation. It wasn't really like he wanted to keep this act up, but he worried expressing he wasn't the smuggler they thought he was would lead to losing his usefulness and then he'd be killed. Far better to pretend to be who they thought he was and stay alive.

"What?! Did you just say rathtars? Hey! You're not hauling rathtars on this freighter, are you?"

The girl's face scrunched up, confused. "What's a rathtar?"

"Ever heard of the Trillia Massacre?" The guy asked her.

"No," she responded.

Han hadn't either.

"Good," the guy nodded. "Wait, how did you get them aboard?"

That was a great question, one that got to the heart of what Han needed to know - would he be leaving anyone important behind (namely, of course, Qi'ra) if he just took this crappy little ship and bolted? No need to deal with rathtars of all things.

Again the Wookie was looking at him, waiting for him to answer. He frowned, and gestured for the big hairy guy to speak. How long could he keep this up before he'd be forced to spill the truth? Not much longer, he didn't think. If Qi'ra wasn't on the other ship, he was going to take this smaller one and bolt, no question about it.

Sure enough, the Wookie confirmed that he and Han were all that was left of the larger ship's crew. Han shoved the pain over what that meant for Qi'ra down, and made his way toward the YT freighter cockpit, determined to get the hell out of there. He could scream and cry and rage about her being gone from this future of his later.

The girl followed him, as did the Wookie, and trailing behind all of them was the guy who kept asking questions Han couldn't answer.

Han sighed, realizing there was no way he was going to ditch these three. At least he could try and convince them he was who they thought, that he had power and leverage in this situation and wasn't some rube they could easily pick off. Plus, if he played this right, he could get one of them to show him the basics of flying one of these things by example. He was a great pilot, he knew that. The girl had only confirmed that further - but he'd never flown a ship like this and could benefit from watching someone else at the controls - just a for a moment before he figured things out for himself.

Thankfully the girl seemed all too happy to beat him to the controls, plopping down and flipping switches and levers like no one's business. She told him about something to do with the fuel compressor, and made adjustments to the ship as she spoke. Han vaguely remembered being a toddler and his dad taking him to the factory with him, going over the various systems of the ships he built. With time, he'd probably pick it all back up, and then some. As it was, he hadn't really been able to study anything larger than a speeder since he'd been orphaned. He nodded along with the girl though, and it seemed to be all the encouragement she needed.

They pulled away from the larger bulk freighter, Han quickly figuring the controls out as he watched the girl work. As they pulled away he caught sight of two other ships docking to the freighter as they cleared the mouth of the docking bay.

Well kriff that.

He pulled the navicomputer over, only to realize it was far more complex than any interface he'd ever worked with before. Oh stang it. He glanced about at the sparks and bangs as the ship buckled under the stress of flight, and waved Chewbacca over, hoping his excuse would pass muster. "I'm going to focus on doing some repairs," he said, confident his mechanical knowledge would be up to snuff, "Can you program this thing?"

No question that the Wookie knew there was something very wrong. He bellowed something at Han about taking them home, or at least that was what Han assumed. Han didn't really understand all the words, but he nodded along all the same. The Wookie's expression was some weird cross between relieved and worried.

Han's attention was only on the repairs for a moment, but there were so many that were needed, the ship had been so badly neglected. Outside the cockpit, displayed through every viewport, the void and stars of space (already so precious and new to Han) were turning into white streaky lines and then, suddenly, replaced by bright blue lights swirling and dancing in a tunnel.

He wiped at some dust that had gotten in his eye, and hoped his reaction to the spectacle taking place through the viewports wouldn't be mistaken for weakness. Wouldn't get him killed. At least he didn't feel sick the way he had the first time he'd ever been in hyperspace.

Everyone was filing out of the cockpit now, headed back into the main cabin. Han wanted to stay there, just gazing at the way the various shades of blue danced about outside, but it was too conspicuous. He followed the others, and tried to blend into a wall, hoping to avoid being found out. He'd barely fired blasters before, for kriff's sake, and he didn't want to test his fists against whatever sort of weapons proficiency the others might have.

Still, everyone was watching him. Waiting. Expecting him to say something.

He must be some big boss or something, the way everyone seemed to hope he'd speak first.

"So, fugitives, huh?" He knew it wasn't the best opening, not by a long shot, but hopefully they'd be so distracted by detailing why they shouldn't get handed over to authorities they'd forget to really pay attention to him. It was a trick he pulled all the time with his fellow Scumrats, diverting attention away from whatever he did by making them justify their own actions.

Sure enough, the girl perked up. "The First Order wants the map!" She declared, giving her companion a massive grin. He didn't return it. "Finn's with the Resistance!"

The guy, Finn, looked beyond uncomfortable. The girl didn't notice it, but Han did. He was lying about who he was then. Han didn't need to know who the krizz the First Order or Resistance were to find Finn's reaction interesting. Just how much of his story was real then, and how much was a fabrication? Was he trying to impress the girl, or did he have some other goal here?

The girl was still talking, finishing up her statement. Now she was the one who looked almost ashamed. "I'm just a scavenger," she finished with a shrug.

He wondered if she worked independently, or for some cartel. If it was the former, then she was higher up in the way of things than Han himself, that was for sure.

"So errr, tell me about this map then," Han asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. So long as the other two kept talking his own lack of knowledge wouldn't be apparent.

"It leads right to Luke Skywalker," Finn responded. The words weren't his own. Han could tell he was quoting someone else, perhaps the real person with this Resistance group whose identity he was stealing.

"Right," Han responded, pretending that any of this meant something to him.

"Do you know what happened to him?" Finn asked, pressing further on his earlier question about Han knowing this Luke guy. Funny, from how they talked about him, the guy was famous. Why would Han know him personally?

Then again, they had both acted like his name was of galactic notoriety, so it could be whatever badass gang leader he grew into being, he had crossed paths with this missing guy. So rather than respond, Han shrugged, and made as if he was interested in one of the broken down parts of the ship that left the machinery exposed.

Stang, this thing was junked up real bad.

The Wookie was saying something, making an excuse for him, and there was something in his tone that made Han stop and reconsider everything.

The way the Wookie sounded, he was acting like he genuinely cared about Han. He'd only ever really heard that tone in Qi'ra's voice before, well, and Tsuulo's before he'd died.

The truth was, he'd seen through Finn's lie in an instant, and he actually seemed to know who and what they were talking about. If Han didn't have that same sort of knowledge, how was he supposed to pull this off?

He sighed, turned around, and walked into the center of the cabin, set on owning what was really going on.

"Hey, it's ok. You don't need to make excuses for me," Han started. "Probably best I just come clean now, before I get in too deep."

They were all watching him. The Wookie with a weird paternalistic pride, and the two Humans with all kinds of misplaced hope and respect.

"I aint the guy you think I am. Or maybe I am, who the kriff knows. Thing is… I have no karking clue where I am, or who any of the people or organizations you're talking about are. Hell I don't even know him!" He pointed at the Wookie with one thumb, hoping that really highlighted his point. "I think I've got amnesia or something, 'cause last thing I remember I'm about eighteen, nineteen years of age or so and eating dinner… and then suddenly I was here and old and in space."