SOMETHING OF A ROUGH START

Chapter 1

(Han)

I'll admit it. I love Winter Fete. I really do. It's a great time of year, one I only began to appreciate once a certain princess entered my life. Now it's my princess and four kids, which is even better.

Well, most of the time.

Jarik's four. He's easy. Anything that functions as a hammer, projectile or explosive works for him. The older kids are doing most of his shopping, and I don't want to even think about how many credits Leia gave them.

Jacen wanted a Nelargon, a keyboard made famous by Max Rebo. I finally reached Max while he was on a concert tour of the Core Worlds. Max hooked me up with his dealer and I walked off with a top of the line Nelargon, at a fraction of what I expected to be soaked for.

Jaina and Anakin wanted their own tool sets, and I was only too happy to oblige them. We fight incessantly over tools. The kids misplace them or lose them and do everything but put them away properly. I bought two complete sets and had the handles on them color coded, red for one, blue for the other. And they come with the warning that using my tools will result in death or banishment from the Falcon's repair bays.

I just flew in from Naboo, where I found Leia's favorite perfume. It's not widely available and I love it on her. I also stopped at a ladies' specialty store to get her a gift (mostly for my benefit). You are not allowed to know what it is. You're not even allowed to speak. You may ask about the deep red kabah goat wool shawl should you feel it necessary. But it doesn't mean I'm going to give you an answer.

I'm exhausted from a week of deliveries, and I'm so happy to be entering the atmosphere of Coruscant. Coruscant's atmosphere is a bit bumpy but I'm totally used to it. Chewie, not so much, but he's tired, too. A tired Wookiee is not someone to trifle with.

"You're coming to dinner tomorrow night, aren't you?" I ask Chewie.

{I'll eat first, but of course I'll come}.

We're all kinda grateful Chewie eats before he comes. Raw meat is the mainstay of Wookiee diets. That doesn't apply to dessert, though. Chewie loves dessert and it's a lot less unattractive than him ripping through the main course.

{I'm going to meet up with my friends}, Chewie informs me. There's a small Wookiee population on Coruscant, and they get together from time to time. {You don't need to take me. They'll come for me at the landing pad}.

"Works for me."

{I know how much you want to see Leia and the kids}.

"Really? Now why would I want to see my family?"

{Face it, Han. You're a softie when it comes to your family}.

"I'm Han Solo and I'm not soft about anything!"

Chewie laughs.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball!"

{I'll tie down the ship while I wait. Hurry on home}.

"Sometimes, Chewie, you're not a bastard. Thanks."

We touch down, very gently. It comes from having a long relationship.

I'm looking forward to touching down with Leia later tonight.

Chewie starts the tie down work, and I grab my speeder. Leia and I each have one these days. It simplifies a lot of things, although I admit that I kind of miss seeing her as soon as I walk down the gangway.

And then there's traffic on Coruscant. It's hideous. Whether on the ground or going by air, it's bumper to bumper ridiculousness. And that'll be amped because Winter Fete starts tomorrow night. Last minute shoppers, the whole quad in the government sector turned into merchandise and food stalls.

Flying through a solar storm's a snap compared to navigating drive time traffic. I find myself calling on the skills I'd acquired going through asteroid fields way too often. Toss in the so-called 'wintry mix' as the holocasters so delicately label it, and it feels way too much like trying to dodge TIE fighters.

I exit the hangar slowly so as to not be hammered the moment I get out. It take a lot longer than I'd like to get into traffic, but at least, for now, I'm not going to be taken out in a vehicular accident. When I'm on my way home, I look forward to being mauled by my kids, not by idiots who should never have been given a permit.

The weather is typical Coruscant winter. Icy rain slams down on everyone; anyone fool enough to use the streets is sliding all over the place. Me, I always feel safer in the air, or more specifically, out in space.

I'm really tired and I know I'm not running on optimum, but believe it or not, I actually am careful. How do you think I held out against being blasted by Imperials for years? Sure, some of the things I did might have been considered daring, but daring without being careful just gets you dead.

What the nine hells?!