SO WHERE WERE YOU?
Chapter 2
Leia pushed a loose tendril of hair back. This was going to be a data entry and report writing day, for which she was grateful. She was somewhat burnt out; these tasks were calming in their mundane nature.
The stranger who'd rung their apartment last night made her feel unsettled. She was good at reading people, but needed more than a fast exchange via comm to do so. It was why she traveled so extensively; comm conferencing was cheaper and didn't have her flying so many places, but sometimes, nothing beat a face to face.
Han was going to demand DNA. If there was no match, it would be a forgotten incident. In a way, that was her preference; they could move on easily.
But her intuition nagged at her, and something told her that the visitor last night was not quite a stranger. That, for her, raised a million unpleasant questions. What if he was related to Han? What would that mean to their children? Was he a safe person to allow entry to their home and access to the kids? Why had he waited so long to contact Han?
It then occurred to her that she had top level clearance and she could look up anyone she wanted. She typed in 'Jonash Solo' and waited for her computer to reveal him.
The basics came first. Born to Den and Tira Gama Solo in 54 BBY with a twin sister, Tiion. Grew up on Den and Jonash kidnapped by pirates and returned to Tralus in 52 BBY. Left home in 41 BBY. In 31 BBY, married Jaina Rashell, whom he'd met working on the Corellian Independence Underground. One child, Han Solo, born 29 BBY. Shot an Imperial soldier while trying to protect Jaina, who was murdered by the Imperial forces. Was not permitted to take his son Han, then aged two, with him. The child Han was 'adopted' by Garris Shrike.
It spit back a listing of various dates of imprisonment, aliases, presumptive sightings. He'd escaped from some very high security facilities. For a perverse reason, that made Leia smile; apparently her husband's cleverness had some genetics involved.
It should have settled her mind, but it only raised more questions in her mind. As for judging him for being in prison, these were during the times of the Empire, and many were unjustly imprisoned, languishing there for years or worked to death for no legal reason. She did need to know more about him; it was possible that he was legitimately imprisoned for violent acts, and that would definitely rule him out as having any relationship with their children.
The only murder charge was the one for killing an Imperial soldier; he'd served twelve years for that, because somehow he managed to escape. Leia thought he must have had his retinal patterns altered somehow. Han had indicated that he himself had had the surgery done. There were several other bouts in custody; seven years for 'transport of illegal substances.' Two shorter sentences for burglary.
And there was something about the voice. Older, yes. But something about the timbre had struck her ears. It was a deep voice and sounded as if it was her husband about forty years older than he currently was.
That Jaina had been awake for it disturbed Leia some, although she knew that Jaina would read by flashlight or backlight from her datapad of stories. She never corrected her daughter on it; she did the same growing up and she wanted her kids to love stories and poems as much as she did. But Jaina was Force sensitive, and she had big ears. It was hard to pass anything by her.
"Leia!" a sharp voice broke her reverie. The voice belonged to Mon Mothma. Leia felt as if she'd been woken from a sound sleep.
"I've been standing here for the last three minutes. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to get some of the taxation documents drawn up for the Inner Rim," Mon Mothma said simply.
"Of course, I'm sorry, I'm preparing a summary on that as we speak," Leia said, attempting to regain her composure.
"That's fine. Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine."
Mon Mothma wasn't buying, but she let it go. "If you need to talk, you know where my office is."
That also startled Leia. "Thank you, but I'm fine," she said very quietly and returned to work.
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"Mr. Solo and Mr. Solo," a droid called to them.
"Age before beauty," Han said to the person that might well have been his Y-chromsome donor.
"Let's see how you look at my age," Jonash remarked dryly.
"If I look like you, shoot me."
The droid handed each of them a report.
The report stated: Positive Match.
The two stared at each other as if to say, what now?
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Leia was finishing her summary on tariffs when her comm went off. It was Han. He looked...confused.
"Did you get some DNA out of your presumptive father?" she asked.
"He's no longer presumptive."
"I'm going to go out on a limb and say yes, he's your father."
"I'm just wondering how Luke felt when Vader told him he was his father."
"I'm hoping your father's not in the same class."
"Well, he's not a Sith. So he's got that going for him. Beyond that, not sure."
"He does have a long criminal history."
"Yeah, but so do I."
"Yours was expunged. His wasn't. So what are you going to do now?"
"Get both of us drunk. Unless you have a better idea."
Leia was actually unable to come up with something better. "Just don't bring him home. I'm not ready for him to be there."
"Neither am I. And tonight, I'm not springing for the Maranai."
"Comm Luke. He's on Yavin and his place on Coruscant is vacant."
"Yeah, I'll do that. I dunno, sweetheart. I've flown from one end of the galaxy to the other, seen a lot of strange stuff...and this has to be the weirdest thing I've ever had happen to me."
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Han took Jonash to his favorite dive bar. It was a place he drank only with male colleagues and friends. There was a sign upon entering that weapons were not to be used inside. He'd never taken Leia there and never would. Women did drink there, but they tended to be of the shoot first and ask questions later variety. There was at least one fight between women per night, along with several between the men who went there.
"My kind of place," Jonash remarked as they entered.
"It's okay. Ever been to Chalmun's on Tatooine?"
"Yep. Not for a while, but I've been there. Ever meet Ackmena?"
"Yeah, I know her. She never said anything about you."
"I used a lot of aliases."
"Yeah, been there, done that. You must've had your retinal patterns changed," said Han as the two men were served Alderaanian ales.
"Did you ever hear of Nici the Specialist?"
"He's the one that did mine." Han was really becoming more than a little unnerved.
"Does fake Ids that are so good the Imps couldn't tell 'em," Jonash said, relishing the memory.
"I'm guessing you used an alias."
"One of many." Jonash took a long pull on his ale.
"Yeah, well, join the club," Han said, his tone more than a little sulky. "I got drummed out of the Imperial Navy, I had to get work so I could eat and every now and then live indoors." Han shook his head. "Hard to believe that once upon a time my ambition was to be an Imperial officer."
"And I was proud of you when you refused to kill - what was it, a Wookiee?"
Han's eyes widened. "Who told you that?"
"One hears things," Jonash said, shrugging. It's not as if your life's been a big secret these past few years."
"Yeah, well, I hate the holorazzi," Han said, taking another drink. "I'd take more of 'em out except that it looks bad for Leia."
Jonash smiled. "She truly is a lovely woman. There's one thing you and I have in common." He became wistful. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve her. She was amazing. How she ever fell in love with a bum like me, I'll never know, but I'm greatful she did. I miss her every day."
Han contemplated this. "So you know she's dead."
"Since I ended up going to prison for twelve years for killing an Imp officer trying to protect her, yeah, she left this galaxy a long time ago because I failed to do just that."
Han nodded, now listening raptly.
"Jaina Rashell and I met working in the Corellian Independence Movement, back during the time when the Empire was rising. Some of us saw the writing on the wall. Me, I just went for the food. I'd gotten out of prison on a drug rap after seven years."
"You were using?"
"No. I had enough of Den Solo beating the crap outta me every time he got drunk, and that was most of the time. So when I was sixteen, I bailed out. I didn't have enough money to stay anywhere, what with cleaning dishes in local restaurants. Occasionally I'd stay in some flophouse but winter came around and I figured that if I couldn't afford any place by myself, I'd look for some roommates. So, I was busing tables in this decent place I was lucky enough to get a job, and I'm hearing these guys, they're older than me but not by a lot, saying they really needed a new associate. I decide to bust in and say I'm looking for a room, not too expensive, just somewhere I can sleep and I wouldn't bother anyone. The three say they'll talk about it, tell me where to meet 'em when I'm done. I'm sixteen and I can't drink, and I'm wondering what they want with a bum like me. But it was winter coming on, and sleeping in the streets is a good way to get dead fast. So I went in, and they start giving me drinks, no one asks for ID in this joint, which is a even more of a dive than this place, which is kinda weird 'cause I was working in a good place, and they didn't mind me eating there. I'd even started to put some meat back on my bones and I sure didn't have much those days."
"So what'd they want you to do?" Han asked.
"It's a long story." Jonash indicated his ale bottle was empty.
"You're an old man. All your stories are long."
Jonash pointed a finger at him. "And if you're lucky, someday you're gonna be an old man with long stories."
"In that case, we'll need more ale."