Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters or situations are not mine. Star Wars was originally created by George Lucas and is owned by the Walt Disney Company. I make no profit from this work, and do not intend to infringe on the rights of the creator or rights-holder.
Han Solo was falling.
He wasn't sure why. There was also a pain in his abdomen. He couldn't recall what had happened. The pain was growing less searing by the moment. But he felt he had been falling for a long time. By now, he wasn't worried about hitting the ground. He wasn't sure if he ever would.
He struggled to remember. The last thing that came to mind was the feeling of a blaster in his hand, his finger pressing the trigger...a green, Rodian face falling face first onto the table.
No...that wasn't right. That wasn't the last thing that had happened. He had won that day.
That had been a long time ago, he realized. Exactly how long ago, he wasn't sure. But that had been shortly after he'd agreed to take the job that had changed his life forever.
His life...did he even have one anymore? He didn't think so. But it didn't seem to bother him like he always thought it would.
His thoughts returned to that job he and the furball had taken. Hauling a kid, an old man, and two droids to a planet that had been destroyed by the time they arrived. Names? No names came to mind at the moment.
Things had not gone according to plan. Had they ever? But they had ended up rescuing the princess, in the end.
The princess...Leia...
That name and face broke through, and the others followed after. Chewie, Luke...the old man, Obi-Wan: The man who had been so instrumental in bringing him and his friends together. He had been the reason he and Leia had met, the reason their son existed, Ben...
Ben...
Ben was the reason he was falling. He had opened his arms to Ben, tried to bring him home...Ben had not wanted to come home.
New faces now, new names, briefly...Finn, Rey...the girl lingered longer. Who was she, where had she come from? Maybe he already knew, maybe he just couldn't remember...
He hoped they were all right, all of them...that they found each other...most of all, that one day Ben would want to come home...
Han was suddenly aware that he was lying face down on a hard surface. He had been falling just a moment ago, now he had hit the ground, but not hard. Not hard at all. In fact, he didn't remember the moment of impact.
He wondered if he should get up, assess the damage. Or maybe not. Maybe he would just lie here for a little while...
Small hands, helping him up. Like another time. A soft voice was speaking near his ear. "It's all right. You're safe now."
Han opened his eyes. Before him stood a small woman. She was young and beautiful, and...
So much like Leia...
He knew who she was. He didn't know her name, but he knew who she was.
He didn't know what to say. Asking for confirmation of the worst would do, he supposed:
"I'm dead, aren't I?"
Her mouth turned up slightly at the corners. "I'm afraid so," she said gently.
"Where am I, then?"
She looked at the thick fog around them, obscuring their surroundings. "Where would you like to be?" she asked.
"Anywhere else," he muttered.
"Hm," she said.
He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, they were standing on a stone balcony overlooking a lake. The sun was setting in the distance. Birds were singing nearby.
The woman walked over to the railing, leaning against it. "This is my little corner," she said.
"It's...nice," Han said. "Not my style, but nice."
She turned back to him with a smile. "You can make your own in a little while. It can be wherever, whenever, whatever you'd like it to be. But first, I want to know how my children are."
Han blinked at her. "How do you know I know them?" he asked.
She frowned. "I'm not sure," she said. "You're the first person I've greeted that I don't recognize. I assumed you must have had something to do with them. Forgive me if I was mistaken..."
"You're not," Han said. "At least, I don't think you are. Luke and Leia, right?"
The woman beamed. "How old are they now?"
"Uh..." They'd all agreed to stop counting a while back. Well, at least he had. He did the math quickly. "Fifty, fifty-five, maybe?"
The woman looked stunned for a moment, then smiled in a bittersweet way. "Goodness, they've flown right past me, haven't they? And they're well? They're happy?"
"Well, I haven't seen Luke in a while. Leia was pulling herself along, like she always does, last I saw. I guess they've...been better. I know I have."
The woman's face fell. "I'm sorry I didn't ask. I know I didn't want to talk about it when I first arrived, but maybe you do...How did it...end?"
He knew what she meant. "My son...he..." He didn't know if he could speak the words just yet.
The woman understood, though. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know what that's like...to have someone you love and trust turn on you that way." As she spoke, she gently lifted a hand to her throat.
"What happened to you?" Han asked. If Luke and Leia had known, they'd never spoken of it. It seemed wrong somehow; that he was meeting this woman, speaking with her, learning about her before them. But then he remembered he was dead and they were alive.
The woman sighed, looking desperately sad. "My husband-Luke and Leia's father-he attacked me after he turned to the Dark Side. I don't remember much after that...next thing I knew, I was delivering the twins. I somehow managed to do that. But the next time I opened my eyes, I was here."
Han was spluttering. "He attacked you? While you were pregnant?"
The woman looked away. "Yes. But it's all right now. He came back. Luke saw to that. He came home."
There was silence between the two of them. As Han stared at her, the woman turned back to the railing. She looked into the distance across the lake, as if she could hear something he couldn't in the distance. "Speaking of Anakin, I think he's coming. He must want to meet you."
"I've already met him. I don't want to see him! This whole thing is his fault! You tell him-you tell him if he's gonna talk to anybody, it should be his kriffing grandson! If Luke couldn't save him, if Leia couldn't, if I couldn't...he's the only one Ben will listen to! Tell him to talk some sense into the boy!"
"Very well," she said. "If you don't want to see him now, he'll respect that. There are still times when that day is fresh in my mind. I don't want to see him either, sometimes. But you'll meet eventually. You can't avoid him forever."
"The pfassk I can," Han muttered.
She turned back to him, a fresh sadness on her face. "So, Anakin and I have a grandson. Your child and Leia's?"
Han avoided eye contact and nodded.
"And...he's the reason you're here."
"He's Force-sensitive. Luke was training him. But then he found out about Vader and became obsessed."
The woman shook her head sadly. "For a Chosen One, Anakin was remarkable at destroying everything he touched."
"Tell him to talk to Ben!"
She looked away from him again. "The living need to take care of themselves, without our interference."
"That's bantha fodder and you know it!" Han realized he was yelling.
"Maybe it is," the woman said calmly. "But there's nothing you or I can do about it."
He hated to admit it, but she was right. He sighed. "Why can't the stupid Jedi spread the wealth of cool powers around?"
She smirked. "Tell me about it."
It was quiet between them. Then the woman sighed. "You should go. Make your own space. We'll see each other again, I'm sure. And you'll see others you know. You won't be lonely, if you don't want to be. And someday, those you love who still live will join us. Including your son. If he's anything like Anakin, he'll return to the Light, too. You must believe he will. It helps."
"Helps who?"
She just smiled. "On with you now, dear."
He blinked. He couldn't remember the last time someone had called him dear.
"My name's Han. Han Solo."
The woman's smile grew. "I'm Padmé. I'm glad to have met you, Han."
She turned back to the lake. Han got the feeling he'd been dismissed. He started walking.
Back to the fog he couldn't see more than a few inches through. "Guess this is as good a place as any," he said.
Padmé hadn't explained how to "make" his space. He closed his eyes and thought of home.
When he opened them, he was standing in the cockpit of the Falcon.
He grinned. He knew it wasn't the real thing. But by the Force, it felt like it.
"Won't be the same without a copilot," he said. But he realized Padmé was right-the living would join them eventually. Maybe Chewie would want to bunk with him every so often, when he arrived.
Han sat at the controls. Padmé had sort of implied that each person only got one space. And that that space stayed in one place. But there was this cantina on Corellia that he'd been meaning to visit. The years had somehow gotten away from him. He'd love to go there, just one more time...
He'd always been an expert at finding loopholes. He wondered if his selection of space had just made another. If this place was going to convince him it was the Falcon, it had to have all of the amenities, right?
He rubbed his hands together, a faraway look in his eye. "Let's see if this hunk of junk hallucination can fly."
A/N: I know, according to the Jedi, that non-Force-sensitives become "one with the Force," when they die, but what if they were mistaken? What if everyone keeps their consciousness, but only a few Force-sensitives have found the secret to interacting with the world of the living? That's kind of where this story came from.
Of course, I don't know what they're planning for later episodes. I don't have any clue about Rey's origins or if they're planning the appearance of Force-ghosts. So I kept everything as vague as possible. Still, the content of this story may be totally upended by events in Episode VIII or IX. If it is, I may edit or delete. In the meantime, enjoy!
Special thanks to my best friend, who was kind enough to pre-read this and gave me the confidence to put it up.