Skywalker's Legacy, page 13
Chapter One
Han Solo had once been captain of the fastest freighter ever to grace the stars. He had been a smuggler and an outlaw. He had even been a general in the Alliance fleet and the Commander for the Corellian Defense Force. But the job that had lasted the longest over the years was that of husband/father/family man, and right now he was concerned with living up to the duties which that job title conferred on him.
He made his way to Leia's private study, nodded briefly to Corran Horn, who was standing guard outside the door, and without any announcement entered the private chamber. Corran had been one of Luke's closest friends, but that had been over fifteen standard years ago. Regardless of that, Han trusted Corran implicitly. The man was Corellian, like Han, and Corellians might fight like school children among themselves, but they never, ever betrayed one another to outsiders. It just wasn't done.
Leia looked up from her desk. Her face was drawn and tired. She looked over at the security 'droid when she saw Han and asked, "Clear?"
The floating sphere answered in the affirmative. It detected no electronic activity that indicated someone might be monitoring the room. Leia had the room swept twice daily anyway, just in case, per Corran's suggestion. So far she hadn't found anything in here, but these days it paid to be cautious.
"Critton's gone," Han said gruffly. "Disappeared. Just like the others."
"I know," his wife replied in a strained voice.
"Did you know that Critton's wife and daughter were killed when they took him?"
She looked at him sharply, and Han realized that she hadn't known that. She stood up and held her hands out to him. "Oh, Han---"
He went to her, held her, comforted her. She was getting older now. Streaks of gray had lined her otherwise dark hair. But she was still strong. Still fighting, despite the odds, for what she believed in. She would never give up.
"You know what this means?" he whispered.
She nodded. "The children."
"They're in danger now, Leia." He moved slightly away so he could look at her. As I see it, we have two choices. One: you can withdraw from the Senate."
"No. This Constitution is too important. I'm the only one left now to argue for it."
"You can't argue for it if you're dead."
"It's my life's work. I can't abandon it."
"I'm not suggesting you stop your work. We can go away, all of us you, me, Chewie, the kids, even Corran and you can do your fighting from the back door, organize an underground movement "
"I've been through that before, Han. I can't wait for the roots of a new Empire to take hold and for people to start realizing what's happened before I act. Besides, I'm getting too old for that sort of thing."
Han nodded, having known what her answer would be even before he had asked. "Well, then, that leaves our second choice. Two:"
"Two " Leia finished, "you and the children could go away."
"No," Han countered. "Just the children. With Chewie to look after them."
"Please, Han, I want you to "
He hushed her by pressing his fingers to her lips. "We've been through a lot together, Leia. You're not going to get rid of me so easily."
Leia looked at her husband with eyes full of love. Vanity had prompted him to dye the signs of age out of his hair, so it was impossible to say just how much of his original color he retained, but the lines on his face were a little deeper, his jowls a little heavier then when they had first met. Nevertheless, she loved him as much as ever---more, in fact, because their years of marriage had developed a closeness that could only come with time.
"So where do we send them?" Han asked.
The question didn't require much thought. "We send them to Luke."
"Are you sure that's the best place for them?"
"He'll take good care of them. After all, he is still a Jedi Knight."
"I don't know. I never put as much stock in that religion as you have, and besides, Luke renounced the Jedi faith long ago."
"He hasn't renounced it."
"What else do you call it? He doesn't see anyone, doesn't visit anyone, doesn't---"
"He is still a Jedi Knight."
"Like that counts for anything. The only one left is Corran."
"None of the others had my brother's capabilities. Including Corran."
"Yeah, whatever." He didn't much care where they sent the kids, as long as it was away from here. "If you want to send them to Luke, that's fine by me. Maybe we should send Threepio with a message, let him know they're coming. Damn 'droid belongs to him, anyway."
"I sent Threepio as soon as I heard about Critton," Leia replied, "even though I didn't know about Critton's wife and daughter."
Han crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, Leia, just once it would be nice to actually have a say in some of the decisions that are made around here."
Leia smiled. "You do have a say. But it was a foregone conclusion that we'd send the kids away, and there's no one else I trust. I did tell Luke that I hoped you would be with them, but I doubted you would be. If you convinced me to send the kids somewhere else, I'd send another message to cancel Threepio's."
Han sighed, and his annoyance left with the breath he expelled. He hated when she did that. But at the moment, it didn't much matter. There were other things to worry about.
He wished he had Leia's confidence in the abilities of the Jedi Knights in general, and in Luke in particular. It didn't matter how powerful the Jedi were supposed to be, it just wasn't enough. Look at what happened to the rest of them. Most of them were probably dead. They were all missing, at least. Corran Horn was the only one left, and he said the others were dead, if you could count on that Force-thing as accurate. The others had been sent to guard the other senators, the most prominent targets, and had disappeared along with the people they were supposed to protect. Corran had chosen to stick next to Leia, which was probably why Leia hadn't disappeared yet. Corran was the best, but he wasn't infallible. The others had been strong, too, but they hadn't been strong enough to prevent the kidnappings.
"Don't worry," Han said softly, as much to himself as to Leia. "Chewie will take good care of the kids, even if Luke doesn't want 'em. I'll make sure there's enough diapers and baby formula in stock."
Leia smiled. It was a private joke between them. None of their three offspring had been in diapers or baby formula for more years than either of them cared to count. Lucy was already a sophomore at the Academy, and she was almost a year younger than Rupert. Even the youngest, Poul, only had a couple years left before he entered adolescence. Referring to them as 'children' or 'kids' or 'babies' served to make them feel a little less old, a little less 'over the hill.'
But even the two older ones needed someone to watch over them at times. They weren't quite grown up yet. They still had the impulsiveness and recklessness of youth. If left on their own, they'd probably want to stay behind and defend their parents which, of course, was out of the question.
Also, somebody responsible would have to look after Poul and make sure he stayed out of trouble. Han wasn't sure Lucienne and Rupert were the best people for that, the two of them getting into so many scrapes themselves.
Therefore, Chewbacca would have to act as chaperone for the troupe.
Suddenly there was a commotion in the hall. Han had already unholstered his blaster and was on the point of shoving Leia under the desk when loud Wookiee growls, punctuated by familiar-sounding human shouts and muffled arguments came to them through the door. Han relaxed and put his blaster back. He gave Leia a smile that said this was the last time things would ever be this normal, and waited.
The door to the study was kicked open by a large hairy foot.
Han shook his head. "I keep tellin' ya Chewie, you're gonna break it that way."
Chewbacca ignored the comment and hauled his dual burden into the room with a gentleness that was apparent only in the fact that his charges didn't have broken necks. In each hairy paw he held one of Han and Leia's older children. He gave them a light shove that sent them staggering towards their parents. The mortu, Rupert's constant companion, was right behind them, and padded over to its cushion, too used to the Wookiee to consider it a threat. Poul followed Wookiee, humans, and mortu into the room with a high-pitched, "Now you're gonna get it!"
Corran appeared behind the entire group, and discreetly closed the door from the other side.
"Okay, Chewie, what's going on?" Han asked.
"Tell 'em, Unca' Chewie!" Poul piped, coming out from behind the Wookiee's legs.
Han shot his youngest what he hoped was an appropriately withering look. "I wasn't talking to you."
The gaze had its desired effect. The boy sunk into a silence which, Han knew from experience, was only temporary.
The Wookiee relayed the story in a series of barks, hoots, and growls that only a few people could understand. Han was one of those people. Leia was now, too, having had nearly two decades to practice. The children, of course, understood the Wookiee tongue as if they had been raised in it---which was essentially true. Chewbacca spent nearly as much time in the Solo household as he did on his homeworld, and with the recent disappearances of the senators, had returned for another extended visit.
As Han listened to the tale, he grew angry with Rupert and Lucienne, but he couldn't really blame them. Being cooped up and confined in the home at their age was difficult. He couldn't really expect them to enjoy being confined to the house, but damn it, didn't they realize the risks they were taking? How dare they sneak off like that! They could have been killed.
Furthermore, the Wookiee related, Rupert and Lucy had been irresponsible enough to take Poul with them. Here Han wondered whether Chewbacca wasn't prejudicing the story in Poul's favor. The big lug always tended to champion the underdog, which to a Wookiee was usually the smallest being around. Around here, the smallest was Poul. Probably what had happened was that Poul, seeing Lucy and Rupert leave, had decided to follow them on his own without their even knowing about it.
Sometimes, Han reflected, Chewbacca was just as much of a child as Poul.
When the Wookiee finished, Leia looked from one older child to the other. "Whose idea was this?" she asked angrily.
Of course Lucy had thought of it. Of course Rupert would take all the blame. And of course, Lucy would let him. Han wondered if Leia would ever catch on.
"It was my idea," Rupert said, hanging his head. "Lucy came after me to try to stop me. I didn't know Poul had tagged along, too."
"And just where do you think you were going?" Leia demanded.
Rupert shrugged. "For a walk."
"Knowing full well that it was strictly forbidden, and taking your sister and brother with you?"
"Like I said, I didn't know Poul would tag along."
"Is that right, Poul?" Leia asked.
"I didn't do nothin'!" Poul declared.
The kid would go far, Han decided, even if he were a rotten liar. But there was nothing to be done for it now, except hope that Rupert and Lucy would learn from their mistakes. "Let it go, Leia. There are more important things right now."
Leia nodded, but Han could still see the anger and fear in her face. These were her children. She didn't want them hurt or injured, and their stupid behavior could possibly have cost them their lives.
"Aren't you going to punish him?" Poul demanded.
"Not this time," Han answered.
"Why not?" he asked petulantly.
"Because," Leia said, stepping forward and taking him by the arm to lead him back to his room. "We haven't got time. And besides, if we punished Rupert and Lucy, we'd have to punish you, too, for following, and we haven't got time for that, either. So count yourself lucky. Now go to your room for a few minutes. I have to send a message, and then I'll be right up. You're going on a trip, so you have to decide what to pack."
Instantly Rupert and Lucy straightened up, and exchanged glances. That's when Han realized that they really did understand the seriousness of the situation and knew that it was time to be adults. This was not play any more; this was the real thing.
"A trip!" Poul exclaimed. "Where we goin'?"
Rupert waited until his mother and little brother had left the room. "Something's happened," he said, concerned. "What is it, Dad?"
"Critton's disappeared, and his family's been killed."
Rupert started, and looked over at his sister.
She was staring at her father. "His family killed?"
"Yes." So Lucy had known about Critton, but not his family. That was probably why she had left. Critton was a good friend of the family's. He had promised Lucy a political internship when she completed her next year at the Academy. His daughter was about Lucy's age, and they had been fairly good friends.
Rupert said, "So we're going away?"
"Well, you kids are, anyway."
"Where?"
"The most desolate, miserable hunk of space-rock in the galaxy. Sorry, but that's the place your mother chose."
Rupert took a deep breath. "Dad, let me stay. You know how good I am with a blaster."
"I know you're good, Son. That's why I need you to go with Lucy and Poul."
"Dad---" Rupert lowered his voice so that only Han could hear. "Dad, Lucy and Poul can manage without me. I'd rather stay here. I can't leave Mom unprotected."
Han spoke in a return whisper. "Believe me, Rue, I know how you feel. But I can't have you weirding out on me just at a critical moment. You'll do a lot more good with Lucy and Poul. You've never weirded out while spacing, and it's going to be a long trip."
Rupert pressed his lips together, then nodded understanding. As much as he wanted to stay, he couldn't risk having another episode and being more of a burden than a help.
Chewbacca, his sensitive Wookiee ears picking up their low conversation, growled an interrogative.
"Yeah, Pal." Han replied. "I want you to go with them. Keep your god-children out of trouble, will you?" To Rupert he said, "Don't worry. Everything will be fine here."
Rupert sat on the bed, watching his sister stuff the travel case beyond what it was made to hold, and scratching the mortu on the head between its curled horns. Lucy wasn't particularly neat about her work, and she wasn't particularly choosy about it, either. She stopped long enough to glare at Rupert when a sudden thought struck her, and glanced at the animal lay on the floor under the bed where Rupert was sitting, head stretched up to meet Rupert's hand and hooves sticking out towards her. "You're not bringing that damn mortu along, are you?"
"As a matter of fact," Rupert said, "I am."
"Dad's not going to let you."
"He already said I could."
"Figures," Lucienne muttered, then went back to flinging things indiscriminately into the case.
"You're gonna need anti-grav caddies to carry that thing," Rupert observed.
"None of your business," Lucy said.
He went back to watching her in silence. He knew what was eating her. Lucy had been looking forward to attending the Academy next semester. Critton was gone, her friend Kara, Critton's daughter was dead, and their own parents were the next logical target.
Rupert shared her worry over their parents, and if he didn't feel the affection for Critton and his family that Lucy did, he at least understood it. He suddenly felt lonely, and as if in response to his thoughts, the mortu, whom he had given no name and whom everyone referred to as "the mortu" or as "the damn mortu", crawled out from under the bed and sat next to Rupert, laying its head on Rupert's lap. It was a shaggy beast, with tan-brown fur and two rows of straight, sharp teeth used primarily for cropping plants. The animals were vegetarian by nature, but they made good watch-animals and were easily housebroken. Though they were common enough as pets, Rupert had developed a special affection for this particular beast, and he and the mortu were seldom if ever seen apart. They had been constant companions ever since Rupert had been about the age that Poul was now.
Lucy turned with another armload of stuff and almost stumbled over the animal. "It's not enough I have to put up with that smelly, flea-ridden beast on the ship, do I have to trip over him in my own room, too?"
Rupert made a motion with his hand, and the mortu got to its feet and left the room.
"Thank you," Lucy said. She grabbed a handful of jewelry and threw it on top of the clothes.
"I don't think we're gonna attend many social functions," Rupert pointed out.
"For your information, that's for emergency purposes. It's an untraceable source of currency."
"Untraceable, except for insurance forms, and guild marks, and public photographs of you wearing the stuff---"
"---and when you melt them down, all of that disappears."
"Oh." Rupert said contritely. "But won't you miss some of that junk?"
"Like I said, it's for emergency purposes only. Besides, Deities know when we'll be back here again."
"Well," Rupert replied, rising, "you obviously don't need my help. I'll go check on Poul."
"Why don't you?"
Lucienne was the last of Leia and Han's three offspring to reach the private docking bay at the first sub-level of the Organa-Solo estate. She had to carry huge her travel case, which was bulging, on anti-grav lifts. Han sighed. Maybe it was a female thing. Rupert had made do with a small satchel, and Poul's stuff was already onboard. Except, Rupert had also loaded sacks and sacks of mortu food, and Poul had long ago stowed every three-dee game and war toy that had ever been made. So maybe it all averaged out in the end. Han let Leia and the service 'droid deal with Lucy's luggage, and went to Rupert.
Rupert was talking with Corran as Han approached. Corran saw Han coming, said something that Rupert nodded a response to, then himself nodded to Han and moved away politely.
"What did Corran want?" Han asked.
"Not much," Rupert said with a shrug, showing Han a paper that had been folded and sealed. "He wanted me to give this to the man you're sending us to."
Han supposed he couldn't fault Corran for wanting to send a message to his former teacher.
"So...where are we going?" Rupert asked.
"Chewie's got the coordinates. When you get where you're going, fly low. Ta your destination world never spent much on its air-traffic equipment they don't get that much to begin with. No reason to. You'll see why when you get there. If you stay low, they may or may not spot you coming down, but if they do, they won't know where you've landed."
"Okay," Rupert said. "Anything else?"
"Yeah. I'm depending on you to look after your brother and sister. Don't weird-out on me."
"Don't worry, Dad. I've never had a problem in space."
"Yeah, I know. That's what I'm counting on. Okay." He gave Rupert an embrace which was returned. "There's one more thing," Han said. Rupert was already wearing the blaster that Han had given him, identical to the one Han was wearing, and looked a lot like Han had looked in his younger days. The only thing missing from the outfit was the Corellian blood-stripe. But there was something else Han wanted Rupert to have. "Chewie won't be flying in the co-pilot seat just to give you practice flying. From now on, he is your co-pilot."
"What do you mean?" Rupert asked.
Han lifted his fist and opened it to show Rupert the insignia pins he'd once had made, and pinned them to Rupert's collar. "The Falcon's yours, Son. Her registry's in your name now, and she's programmed so that she'll respond to you rather than Chewie. Now, if you do weird-out, I've installed a transfer switch at the co-pilot station that Chewie can punch to gain control. But he won't do it unless you're incapacitated. Otherwise, if you ram her into a star, he won't stop you."
Rupert was silent for a moment, a little awed at this pronouncement. Then he said, "I'll give her back to you in one piece, Dad."
"No," Han said. "She's yours. Forever. Unless you wreck her."
Rupert grinned. "I won't wreck her."
"See that you don't. She doesn't look like much on the outside, but she's got it where it counts. Saved my life more times than I can remember."
Lucy had finished giving the service 'droid directions on how to unpack her things, and was busy trying to talk Leia into changing her mind about not going.
Han nodded to Rupert, and said, "Say goodbye to your mother." Then he took Lucienne's arm and drew her away from Leia so that Lucy's back was to Leia and Poul, and her body acted as a shield to hide what he was about to do. "Loose," he said, using his special nickname for her, "I want you to do something."
"What?"
Han pulled out a blaster and holster from under his jacket, a smaller version of the twins he and Rupert wore. "I want you to take this, and wear it at all times. But keep it hidden. Tell Rupert and Chewie you've got it, but not Poul. It ain't a toy."
"I'm not as good with that as Rupert."
"I know. But Rupert and Chewie are carrying their weapons openly. That means any hostile eyes are gonna be on them, not you. That might give you a little extra advantage."
Lucy took the weapon and folded it inside her skirt. "Mom know about this?"
"What she doesn't know, she can't forbid," Han replied.
Lucy looked up at him with eyes that reminded Han of her mother. She was so much like Leia. Headstrong, refreshingly rude most of the time, sickeningly polite the rest of the time.
It was scary.
The thruster valves began hissing, indicating that the ship was just about ready to lift off. Rupert had already trotted up the gangplank to help Chewie finish the pre-flight. Han kissed Lucy on the cheek and gave her a shove in the direction of the gangplank. The longer the kids stayed here on the ground, the greater danger they were in.
Poul was the only one left to deal with. Apparently, from the argument Han was overhearing, Poul had refused to pack, and Leia had done the boy's packing for him.
"I don't want to go," Poul said. From Leia's expression, Han gathered that this was not a new utterance. "And I'm not going!"
"You are going," Leia said firmly, then looked at her ultimate resource in situations like this. "Han---?"
Han took the boy by the hand and pulled his small unwilling body up the gangplank. Once inside the ship, he knelt down to the boy's level. "Poul, listen to me," he said. "Everybody thinks that because you're just a kid, you can't do much except get in the way. But I know that's not true." Han rolled up his pants leg and unstrapped the sheathe that held a crystaline knife. With no electronics and no metal, the crystaline blade didn't show up on most weapons scanners, which was why Han had paid top dollar for it. "You take this," he said, "and you wear it on your leg, like that. In an emergency, it might come in handy. It's sharp, so it's only for emergency use. Got that? You're not to be playing with it, understand?"
The boy nodded, somewhat in awe of owning a real weapon.
"Okay," Han said. "Now, if Rupert sees it, he's liable to take it away from you, so keep it out of sight. He is captain of the ship, and he's the oldest, so whatever he says is law. If he wants to take it away from you, then he can. If he sees it, he just might. Zneeka?"
Zneeka was the Reeban word for "Do you comprehend the implications of what I am saying?" It had become a common word in the Organa-Solo household after the visit of a Reeban ambassador, although the original use of it had been more or less in making fun of the ambassador---after he had left, of course.
Poul nodded, still awed.
Han fastened the knife sheathe to Poul's leg---it was more than a little loose on the boy---pulled the pants leg back down, and clapped him on the shoulder. Then he yelled for Lucy to come get her brother and make sure he was strapped in, and when Lucy appeared, remanded his charge to her, hit the delay button on the gangplank, and went back down to where his wife was waiting.
A second later, the gangplank rose. A few seconds after that, the thrusters came online, and the Falcon started to lift from its landing pad.
"What did you give to Lucy?" Leia wanted to know.
"A blaster," Han replied.
"Oh," she said.
Han looked at her. "I didn't think you'd approve," he said.
Leia kept her eyes on the ship just beginning to lift off. "What makes you think I wouldn't?"
It was a testimony to the seriousness of the situation that she didn't mind. Han decided to come clean. "I also gave Poul a knife."
Leia nodded. The Falcon moved forward, gathering speed, and in a few seconds, was out of sight.
"Good," she said.