The More Things Change
Han jerked his hand away from the irritated pitten sitting on the dejarik table.
"Hey, pull those claws back in, buddy," he objected. "I'm not having any fun either." Han glared at the pitten as held his hand to his mouth, sucking on the three neat puncture wounds in his knuckle. Spot glared back.
Tossing the now filthy rag across the hold toward the recycler, Han missed. He spread his arms and shrugged at his outraged pitten. With a lightning fast motion, Han's hand shot out, pinning the unwilling pitten to the dejarik table. His captive wiggled, spat, and hissed as Han wiped engine grease from Spot's ears. The task complete, Han released the pitten, who skittered to the far side of the table. One corner of Han's mouth slanted upward; his famous speed apparently applied to blasters, freighters, and ticked-off house pets inclusively.
"It's not my fault," he objected.
Spot slowly blinked his eyes, his disdain obvious. Turning his back to Han, the pitten hoisted one rear leg high over his head, and settled in to clean his private parts.
"Same to you, buddy," Han grumbled as he strode across the Falcon's hold to retrieve the greasy cloth and stuff it in the recycler. After cleaning his hands of engine grease and pitten spit in the small galley sink, Han spread his hands along the ledge and leaned forward, distress evident in his posture.
It's not my fault! Han shook his head defiantly. Well maybe it's partially my fault, he conceded. Yes, the Falcon was renowned for having important parts break at inopportune moments, but there was no way anyone could have predicted the failure of the ion capacitator. Its demise had thrust them unexpectedly out of hyperspace and forced them to layover at Space Station Omega 9 Alpha to wait for a new one, instead of arriving at the lush, green world of Kashyyyk.
####
The Solo flat had been fairly bursting with chaos, which was not unusual for the young family. This day, however, it was a happy sort of chaos. The entire family, including Threepio and Spot, were leaving to visit Chewbacca and his clan on Kashyyyk. Han wasn't sure why his friend had included the pitten in his invitation, but he wasn't going to complain about it; he knew Chewie was fond of the Solo pet. On the other hand, Han had been very vocal in his objections to the Wookiee's inclusion of the droid in his invitation. As to why the Wookiee had felt the need to include the droid, Han had no idea, but he'd complained bitterly, at least until Leia told him to shut up. Being a smart husband, he shut up.
At this moment, the golden nuisance was packing the twins' bags, happily criticizing every choice of clothing Han and Leia had made for them the night before. Han, painfully aware that his 2-year-old children were both mobile and fast, had suggested all black, that way it wouldn't show the dirt. A brief shudder and a scathing look from his wife—she would never be comfortable with any reminder, however unintentional, of her genetic parentage—had quickly changed his suggestion to greens and browns. Leia had readily agreed. Both parents were certain that Jacen and Jaina would be spending most of their time within the clan creche, and there was no way two young human children would possibly stay clean while playing with a small herd of equally young Wookiees. Though he didn't say so to his wife, Han was hoping they could make it through the trip without any broken bones.
At the sound of a wail from the other room, Han dropped his and Leia's bags the door for Threepio to take to the speeder, and headed into the front room to see what family drama was taking place now.
"Sweetie, you need to put Spot down," Leia was saying reasonably, squatting in front of Jacen. Tears streaming down his face, the little boy clutched his well-loved and well-worn stuffed bantha in one arm, while hugging the grey and silver pitten to him with his other. Remarkably, Spot was not squirming, only staring at Leia with solemn bi-colored green eyes.
"No!" Jacen hiccoughed through his sobs. "Uncle Chewie said he could come. Uncle Chewie wants him to come!" the toddler argued. He squeezed Spot more tightly to his side, causing the pitten to wince.
Han took a step forward, intent on helping his wife reason with their son, but Leia halted him with a look. Leia had always been the better of the two in dealing with their son. She was even more so now, since Jacen's Force sensitivity had blossomed early, and seemed to be quite strong. Jaina stood on the far side of the room, her eyes focused on her twin. Han knew the siblings were deeply connected through the Force, he could only hope that now she was telling her brother to be reasonable.
"Of course, Spot's coming with us," Leia agreed. "It's just that he'll be safer in his carrier while we go to the Falcon. Once we're on board, he can run free."
Han opened his mouth, the shut it again, mute. He didn't really want the pitten roaming the ship, but three of the things he'd learned as a father were: compromise, compromise, compromise. Or, at least, only fight the battles you know can win.
"Spot doesn't want to get in the carrier," Jacen explained, calmer now.
"But we want him to be safe, don't we?" his mother asked.
Leia looked at Jacen, who looked at Jaina, who, in turn looked at Leia. Han always marveled at his family's communication through the Force, even while he was pleased as hells he wasn't part of it.
After a long moment, Jacen relented. "Okay," he said, loosening his death grip on the pitten. Han grabbed the carrier and rushed over to his family as Leia grabbed Spot.
No, Spot did not want to get into the carrier. Suddenly, it seemed, he'd developed six legs, each ending in four-inch claws, before Han and Leia got the him safely restrained in his carrier. They both ignored the ominous rumblings issuing from inside the crate.
"Oh, Captain Solo!" Threepio tottered from the twin's room carrying the bag containing the twins' belongings. "Two more bags?" he whined as he saw the two by the door. "I am a protocol droid, not a laborer. To expect me…"
"Goldenrod," Han snarled in a low voice. "Take all three bags to the speeder and wait for us there." He might lose an argument to a two-year-old, but he wouldn't cave for a droid, especially that one.
"Yes, Captain Solo, as you wish," Threepio tutted as he waddled out the door with the bags. Leia hid a smile behind her hand.
Mumbling under his breath, Han grabbed the carrier containing the irate pitten and followed the droid out into the hallway.
"Come on, kids." Leia grabbed each twin firmly by the hand. "Lights, one quarter, alarm set," she ordered the home system then, followed her husband out the door.
They were on their way to Kashyyyk.
####
Leia dropped into the co-pilot's seat with an umph. She leaned her head back and stretched her legs out in front of her, something Chewbacca was never able to do when he occupied that seat.
"Kids down for their nap?" Han asked her, flipping the occasional switch on the control panel. While they were in hyperspace there really was nothing for him to do, but he tended to get twitchy. Who would have thought that having kids would make him a jittery gundark?
"Yup." Leia breathed a sigh and closed her eyes, looking like she might like a nap, too. "Remember when I called you a half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder?" she asked, eyes still closed.
"Yeah…"
"I seriously underestimated nerf herders, if chasing our two kids down is even remotely close to what they do."
Han huffed out a laugh. "You remembered to put up the crash webbing around their bunks, didn't you?" he asked. He reached over to flip another switch, the one that activated the monitor for the twins' tiny berth.
One dark brown eye opened, looking askance at her husband, as Leia shifted in her seat. "Of course, I did," she answered curtly. "You really are laser-brained, aren't you?" she added for good measure.
The retrofit to the Falcon to accommodate first infants, then toddlers, had been a challenge, but Han wasn't about to let any harm come to his children, not if it were under his control. Crib-like bunks, crash webbing, special safety seats in the cockpit; it had taken Han months—and no small amount of money. And he'd had to put up with a constant stream of good-natured ribbing from his co-pilot. Chewbacca had found it quite amusing to see the devil-may-care Han Solo making any sort of safety changes to the 'the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy.'
Since blessed silence issued from the twins, and Threepio was in the lounge charging, Han relaxed, letting his own eyes slip shut. He was tired, too. Somehow, every little thing seemed to take at least four times as long, now that they had the twins. Not that he minded, Leia and the kids were the best things that had ever happened to him.
A noisy jolt brought Han back to immediate attention, one hand grabbing the control yoke, while he extended an arm to keep Leia from falling out of the co-pilot's seat. He watched with dismay as the mottled mosaic of hyperspace melted back to streaks, then pinpoints of stars, as the Falcon transitioned unexpectedly back to real space.
"What the…?" Han's hands flew over controls as his eyes checked gauges.
"I don't see any interdictor ships," Leia reported, scanning one of the sensor screens. "I don't think we were pulled out of hyperspace." She breathed a sigh of relief. The thought of encountering an enemy ship of any sort while they were traveling with the babies…
"That's good," Han muttered, his own relief evident.
"So, what happened?" Leia asked, one eye drifting toward monitor speaker. Instead of silence, now they could hear two crying babies and one angry pitten. The children were probably scared; Spot was likely tangled in the crash webbing. Someone needed to get in there and take care of them, but she wanted to know where they stood, first.
"It looks like mechanical failure," her husband answered after a minute more checking of switches and gauges.
"Oh, really?" Leia levered herself out of her seat and headed toward the access tunnel. "Haven't we done this before? It feels familiar," she snarked on her way out.
"Very funny, your Worship," Han grunted as he pushed himself out of his own seat to head for the repair bay. "Very kriffing funny."
####
"But, Captain Solo, as I've said before, ship repair, especially a freighter such as this, at least when it's in its usual state of repair—," Threepio stopped short when he saw the murderous look on Han's face. He wasn't a stupid droid; he had no desire to be blasted to bits. He certainly hadn't enjoyed the experience the last time, and now there was neither Chewbacca nor Artoo to put him back together.
"All I meant, sir," he corrected himself, "was that this is not really my skill set. As you know, I am fluent in more than six million forms of communication—"
"And all I want you to do is use one of those six million forms to talk to the ship and help me find out what's kriffing wrong." Han's voice was menacing. Without another word, he lowered himself back into the repair bay, confident he'd made his point.
"Well, certainly, sir. There's no need for profanity." The golden droid moved to the engineering panel and began his task.
Work proceeded quietly, except for the occasional tsk from Threepio. The silence was broken when the droid let out a panicked Captain Solo! and Han's head rose out of the bay, a pained look on his face.
"It's the ion capacitator!" Han and Threepio cried out in unison. However, Han's announcement was followed by a stream of profanity so rarified it would have made the denizens of any spaceport cantina blush in horror.
"Sir! Oh, sir! Such language! Even with my profanity filter set on full, I can't possibly bear to hear this!" With his arms waving in horror, Threepio shuffled as fast as he could down the access tunnel, away from the angry captain.
Losing his audience, Han laid his head against the edge of the repair bay and moaned. The ion capacitator regulated the power supply to the hyperdrive engines; its failure had initiated the safety protocols that pulled the ship out of hyperspace. Which was better than blowing the Falcon up, Han had to acknowledge. But still, without it they were stuck only with the regular drive, and of course, there was no replacement on board. Those things were expensive.
There was an ancient saying, probably from one of those sanctimonious Jedis of the Old Republic, that said something like Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it. And here they were, stuck in the middle of nowhere without the hyperdrive. Again. Really, what were the odds? Maybe this was one of the few times he should calculate them. They had to be incredible.
"Ahem."
Han looked up to see Leia standing just inside the hold, Jaina perched on her mother's hip, Jacen holding tight to her hand, and his bantha. Spot sauntered past them and began a slow circuit of the hold, sniffing and pawing.
"Are the kids okay?" Han asked.
"They're fine, though you may have scarred Threepio for life," Leia answered. She let her now squirming daughter slip to the ground. Jaina was fascinated by the Falcon, and had never seen this part of the ship before. She wanted to explore. Jacen headed off after the pitten.
"I can only hope," Han answered fervently.
"Han," Leia warned, her eyes traveling between the twins. "Little ears."
Their father only waved a hand that in no way indicated apology. He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bay.
"I take it it's not good news?" Leia asked.
"No hyperdrive," answered Han shortly.
Leia's face went through a series of strong emotions: annoyance, frustration, disbelief, and just the tiniest hint of humor, quickly hidden.
"And you can't repair it?" she continued, already knowing the answer.
"Not without a new ion capacitator and a repair bay." Han rubbed his eyes wearily and hauled himself to his feet. "I suppose we ought to figure out where we are."
"I suppose," Leia agreed.
####
"Our options are, take the long scenic route to Kashyyyk, or head toward Station Omega 9 Alpha," pronounced Han as he checked the navicomputer.
"How long is long? Leia asked, without much hope. She shifted Jacen in her lap, leaning over to read the navscreen past Jaina's head.
"Four to five weeks," was the depressing reply. Automatically, Han reached over and pulled Jaina's curious hand away from the control board. The little girl had been trying to get her hands on the controls the entire time they'd been in the cockpit. "It looks like we're heading for the space station," he declared.
Leia cocked one eyebrow at her husband. "Have any friends there? Someone who owes you a favor?"
"No, no one there owes me any favors! I'm not sure I've even been there!" Han said angrily. "It's not like the last time."
"It certainly isn't," said Leia, looking down at her son's dark head. "Is there anything there for the kids to do? It's their first long trip."
"Leia, it's a space station," Han said with exaggerated patience. "It's filled with docking bays, repair bays, and a few cantinas I'm sure the kids would find fascinating." His scowl softened. "I guess we'll just have to make do. Let me set the coordinates and activate the autopilot." Flipping off the navscreen, Han pinched the bridge of his nose; he could feel an ache of tension starting behind his eyes. "Then I guess I'll go back and see if I can get the old girl to move any faster at sublight. I'm sure I can wire something up. He reached for the autopilot control console.
"You aren't going to leave me alone to entertain these children, are you?" Leia's eyes were filled with cold fire.
"Uh, no," Han answered quickly, though from the irritiation he sensed radiating from his wife, he thought it sounded like a pretty good idea. "Let me just set the autopilot and I'll be right there."
"Can I help, Daddy?" asked a small voice from his lap. Chubby fingers reached up. "No, sweetie, you're not quite a big enough girl yet. But you can watch." He bent over and kissed her soft hair; gods he loved this little girl.
"Where's Goldenrod?" Han asked, when the ship was programmed to head toward the space station. He glanced around the cockpit. Something niggled at him—something was missing— but he couldn't quite bring it into focus.
"He's in the lounge, hiding from you," was Leia's tart reply. But Han knew that wasn't what was bothering him, if only…
Wait, that was it! "Uh, where's Spot?" Han asked. The pitten certainly wasn't in the cockpit with them, and it was unlikely he was in the lounge. Spot and Threepio loathed one another.
"I can find him!" Jacen wriggled off Leia's lap and hurried down the access tunnel on pudgy little toddler legs, his family following along behind him.
Please let him be in the lounge, annoying Threepio, Han begged whichever deities happened to be on duty at the moment. If the little bugger had gotten into something that could hurt him—and there were so many things he could get into on the Falcon—it would be very hard on Jacen, who seemed to have a special bond with the pitten. And it wouldn't do much for Han either. Spot was like another firstborn to him.
The troop moved past the lounge area without stopping, continuing around toward the repair bay.
"Is there anything I can do?" Threepio called out as they rushed past.
"Shut up, Goldenrod."
"Shutting up, sir," was the droid's automatic reply.
Jacen didn't stop until he reached the open repair bay in the floor of the hold. The little boy got down on his knees, ready to dive into the workings of the Falcon's hyperdrive. Han scooped him up and took a firm grip on his hand.
"He's down there," the toddler said, pointing into the bay. Han's quick hand rescued the stuffed bantha as Jacen started to drop it in.
"I don't see him Jace. Are you sure?" Han looked around the rest of the hold area, hoping to see the missing pitten. There were so many things he could get into inside the bay, live wires, dangerous coolants. Han didn't want to think about it. Krif! How could he have left the repair bay open?
"Ooh!" Jaina cried. "I'll go get him." Leia caught her daughter before she toppled headfirst into the bay.
"I'll go," Han announced. He just hoped that for once Jacen was wrong, and that Spot was hiding somewhere else. Someplace safer. "Why don't you guys go play dejarik while I get him. It might take a few minutes." He lowered himself into the bay while Leia shepherded the twins into the lounge.
Twenty minutes later there was good news and there was bad news. Han walked into the lounge carrying the dirtiest pitten anyone could have imagined. Only Spot's bright green eyes glinted out of fur turned black by engine grease.
"Oh, my gods!" Leia muttered. "Is he okay?" she asked aloud.
"He's fine," Han assured her. "Just dirty."
"Spot!" Jacen cried out, slipping off the bench and running to embrace his furry friend.
"I told you we should have brought black clothes," Han reminded his wife, watching Jacen smear grease across his green shirt as he hugged Spot tightly.
Leia only rolled her eyes.
####
Except for dozens of greasy pitten prints spread around the Falcon—Spot wanted no part of a bath—the trip to Station Omega 9 Alpha went as well as could be expected, traveling at sublight speed with two energetic children. The twins lost interest in kiddie dejarik pretty quickly, but were intent on investigating cargo holds, gun turrets, and the cockpit. By the time they reached the station, both parents were exhausted, and even the children were growing tired, and irritable. Han knew that was a dangerous state for a toddler to be in.
Leia managed to bathe the children while Han negotiated with the stationmaster for a new ion capacitator. He knew that if it had been any other ship but the now famous Millennium Falcon, he would never have gotten the part. Han also knew that if it had been any other ship than the famous Millennium Falcon, the stationmaster wouldn't have jacked up the price so high, either. Just because they'd helped win the war, did the world think he and Leia were made of money? Probably, he thought sourly, even though they most definitely were not.
Han did win points with both his wife and his children, however, by bringing back bantha burgers for dinner. After stuffing themselves and the children full of greasy food, the twins were much more agreeable to being put to bed. Leia left Han to the unenviable task of cleaning the uncooperative pitten while she tucked the twins in for the night.
####
"Hey?"
Han's head popped up as he spun around from the galley sink. He plastered the cockiest smirk he had onto his face, preparing himself for the reaming out Leia was sure to give him. He might even deserve it. He'd managed to strand his wife and children in the middle of nowhere, almost killed the pitten by leaving the repair bay open, and their fun vacation on Kashyyyk was still several days away. Yeah, he'd messed up this time, not that he would admit it.
"Yes, your Worship?"
"The kids had a good time today."
Han kept the smile plastered to his face as he waited for the hold to stop spinning around him. The kids? Had a good time? Today? That wasn't exactly the scolding he was expecting.
"They did?" was all he could manage to spit out.
"Well, they weren't too thrilled waking up from their nap by being knocked around their cribs, but other than that, they enjoyed themselves." Leia smiled at her dumbfounded husband. "Look at it from their point of view," she continued. "They got to spend the entire day playing on Daddy's ship, doing all the things they're never allowed to do. It was, and I quote, an adventure."
"Well, okay," Han recovered quickly. "I'm glad I could help." He looked carefully at Leia's face. "How about you?" he asked. "How did you like your day, stranded in the middle of nowhere? It had to have been pretty miserable for you."
"It wasn't what I'd planned, but it wasn't so bad, either. It was fun to have fun with the kids." Leia smiled at Han's bewildered look. "However, I think I liked the last time better."
"The last time?" Han didn't bother to keep up the pretense any longer, he let his confusion show. "You mean the time when Darth Vader and the Empire were chasing us, and we were losing the war? That time?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of awful." Leia ignored her husband's ironic laugh. "But think of all the alone time we had the last time, and how we put it to good use." Her voice went deep and sultry; she glanced at the chrono. "I think we've got nine hours this time. Tops."
With an answering smile, Han grabbed his wife's hand. "Then let's make good use of it."