Author's note: I'm usually opposed to putting notes like these in the middle of a story, but I just wanted to thank all of my readers for the great reviews. I really appreciated them, especially the ones from old readers after new chapters. It's great to know you guys are still reading my story. If anyone has any questions (for instance, if something in the story is not clear), suggestions, criticism, praise, or constructive abuse to share, every word is read and taken into account. And also, thank you all for your patience in awaiting...
Chapter Six
Hanna Organa was more shaken by meeting the legendary Han Solo than she was upon discovering the virus in her X-wing's computer. More than anything, she was excited. She had seen her share of excitement, but this sounded more like the kind of thing that happened to Luke. He had such an exciting life. His tales of the flying with the Rebellion and fighting with Sith always made Hanna's hair stand on end in a good way. Sometimes, when she was flying off on her own, she would shoot at asteroids with imaginary twin ion engines. When she practiced with her lightsaber, the remote became in her mind a white-armored guard, who, like in Luke's stories, "couldn't hit the broad side of a bantha."
Hanna's adventures consisted of maintaining the peace, like in the cantina, and rock climbing. Occasionally, a futile attempt would be made on her mother's life and Hanna would draw sword. But those encounters would just get her adrenaline flowing, that was all. She longed for something more...epic. Something involving mystery and magic and huge battles. Love, lies, and heroism.
"There's no such thing as heroes," Luke would tell her. "I learned that the hard way. I don't want you to have to go through what I did before you get that into your head."
He had said that to Hanna at least a dozen times, his voice serious yet teasing. His other favorite lectures were about how Hanna read too much, how she had her head in the stars, what his life was like when he was her age, and how fighting Sith was not "fun."
"I know fighting Vader wasn't fun, but--"
"No. It's never fun. They're people, Hanna. Living, thinking, feeling people like us. When I distroyed the Death Star, do you know how many people I killed?"
Another of his favorite lectures. "Millions." They'd been through this before. Frankly, Hanna was tired of it.
"I did it so the Rebellion and your mother would live. There was no other way. That's the only reason you ever take a life, Hanna. If there's no other way. And there almost always is."
He didn't understand what she meant. She didn't want war. She wanted a story--a story like his. He'd been young once; he should remember. But he didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't.
Hanna was sitting on the Falcon's ramp that evening, watching those familiar suns slowly sink below the horizon. The sky and sand and suns were ruddy, gold, pale pink. Tatooine was beautiful. She worshipped the dunes, the rock formations, and the endless blue sky. Maybe that was one of the reasons Luke didn't understand her. Their ideas of adventure were different. She thought Tatooine the perfect place for her epic. So romantic and...fun. While Luke had spent the first eighteen years of his life sitting in an adobe hut crouched in the wastes, wishing he were somewhere else.
She sensed her uncle and Han behind her in the doorway. Han. She didn't exactly know what to make of him. She liked him. Very much. And things should have been ackward between them. But, strangely, they were not. Maybe that was what shook her the most. This man...her...father...had abandoned her mother. Why, she didn't know. She should be wary of him, uncomfortable around him. She should dislike him, or something about him. But she didn't. Maybe the brotherly affection she sensed between him and Luke helped quell her inhibitions. Maybe she was just her father's daughter.
"Lucky Hanna." Luke joked, "You've just had your first assionation attempt." He sighed. "They grow up so fast."
Hanna smiled.
"Have any idea about who wants to kill you?"
She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. There was that guy in the cantina that hit me, but aside from him..." She shrugged.
Han, hands in his pockets--half casually and half nervously--spoke up, "So, you two need a ride anyplace?"
"You going to charge us?" Luke asked
"Maybe."
"Ten thousand, all in advance?"
"You crazy, kid? You could almost buy your own ship for that."
They both chuckled, and Hanna frowned. She didn't get it.
"Is Coruscant on your way?" Luke asked.
Han looked down. "I dunno, Luke. D'you think it'd be smart to..."
"To get you that close to Leia? Han, you're just dropping us off."
He sighed. "Yeah, but she'll know I'm there."
"Maybe what you need is to see her again. It might put some things to rest."
He considered. It was a very difficult decition for him. All of those years of wondering how she was feeling at that very moment. Where, if the whole mess had never happened, would he be sleeping that night? In Leia's arms? Would their love have lasted? Did it last until this day?
"You're probably right. But I don't want to see her. It'd...be weird. But I'll drop you off, okay? And you better run quick off the ship, 'cause as soon as I hit the ground, I'm blasting out of there just as fast."
Luke nodded. "Fine. Hanna, is that all right?"
Hanna looked down in thought, but looked up again when she realized that that was the same thinking expression that Han had worn just a few minutes ago.
*************
Luke hadn't felt like arguing with his would-be brother when he had refused to see Leia. Normally, Luke would have lectured him about the importance of love and not hiding from your past, but it was such an old pain. Luke wanted to just let it heal for everyone's sake.
Luke had caught Han staring at Hanna a few times that night while she slept and the other two stayed up talking. The Falcon hummed with the low rumble of hyperdrive engines and everything was still. Hanna looked like Leia while she slept, that was for sure. Luke wondered if Han could remember that night twenty-five years ago when Leia slept on the Falcon for the first time as they fled to Yavin IV. She was Hanna's age, a child then compared to Han's twenty-eight years. She was curvy, slightly chubby, long-haired and dark-eyed. Luke had wondered that night if Han was attracted to her--it was so hard to tell with him. Luke had been. He was in love with the fervor if delusional youth, ready to call any woman to whom he felt a connection his for the rest of his life. That night, he was only interested in Han's feelings as far as competition went. Tonight, Luke wanted to see longing in Han's eyes. Longing for the mother of the beautiful young woman that so resembled her.
"That's right, kiddo," Han repeated. "Blasting in. Blasting out. You don't like it, her highness doesn't like it, tough."
"What about your daughter?"
Han didn't answer, but there was pain in his eyes.
Chapter Six
Hanna Organa was more shaken by meeting the legendary Han Solo than she was upon discovering the virus in her X-wing's computer. More than anything, she was excited. She had seen her share of excitement, but this sounded more like the kind of thing that happened to Luke. He had such an exciting life. His tales of the flying with the Rebellion and fighting with Sith always made Hanna's hair stand on end in a good way. Sometimes, when she was flying off on her own, she would shoot at asteroids with imaginary twin ion engines. When she practiced with her lightsaber, the remote became in her mind a white-armored guard, who, like in Luke's stories, "couldn't hit the broad side of a bantha."
Hanna's adventures consisted of maintaining the peace, like in the cantina, and rock climbing. Occasionally, a futile attempt would be made on her mother's life and Hanna would draw sword. But those encounters would just get her adrenaline flowing, that was all. She longed for something more...epic. Something involving mystery and magic and huge battles. Love, lies, and heroism.
"There's no such thing as heroes," Luke would tell her. "I learned that the hard way. I don't want you to have to go through what I did before you get that into your head."
He had said that to Hanna at least a dozen times, his voice serious yet teasing. His other favorite lectures were about how Hanna read too much, how she had her head in the stars, what his life was like when he was her age, and how fighting Sith was not "fun."
"I know fighting Vader wasn't fun, but--"
"No. It's never fun. They're people, Hanna. Living, thinking, feeling people like us. When I distroyed the Death Star, do you know how many people I killed?"
Another of his favorite lectures. "Millions." They'd been through this before. Frankly, Hanna was tired of it.
"I did it so the Rebellion and your mother would live. There was no other way. That's the only reason you ever take a life, Hanna. If there's no other way. And there almost always is."
He didn't understand what she meant. She didn't want war. She wanted a story--a story like his. He'd been young once; he should remember. But he didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't.
Hanna was sitting on the Falcon's ramp that evening, watching those familiar suns slowly sink below the horizon. The sky and sand and suns were ruddy, gold, pale pink. Tatooine was beautiful. She worshipped the dunes, the rock formations, and the endless blue sky. Maybe that was one of the reasons Luke didn't understand her. Their ideas of adventure were different. She thought Tatooine the perfect place for her epic. So romantic and...fun. While Luke had spent the first eighteen years of his life sitting in an adobe hut crouched in the wastes, wishing he were somewhere else.
She sensed her uncle and Han behind her in the doorway. Han. She didn't exactly know what to make of him. She liked him. Very much. And things should have been ackward between them. But, strangely, they were not. Maybe that was what shook her the most. This man...her...father...had abandoned her mother. Why, she didn't know. She should be wary of him, uncomfortable around him. She should dislike him, or something about him. But she didn't. Maybe the brotherly affection she sensed between him and Luke helped quell her inhibitions. Maybe she was just her father's daughter.
"Lucky Hanna." Luke joked, "You've just had your first assionation attempt." He sighed. "They grow up so fast."
Hanna smiled.
"Have any idea about who wants to kill you?"
She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine. There was that guy in the cantina that hit me, but aside from him..." She shrugged.
Han, hands in his pockets--half casually and half nervously--spoke up, "So, you two need a ride anyplace?"
"You going to charge us?" Luke asked
"Maybe."
"Ten thousand, all in advance?"
"You crazy, kid? You could almost buy your own ship for that."
They both chuckled, and Hanna frowned. She didn't get it.
"Is Coruscant on your way?" Luke asked.
Han looked down. "I dunno, Luke. D'you think it'd be smart to..."
"To get you that close to Leia? Han, you're just dropping us off."
He sighed. "Yeah, but she'll know I'm there."
"Maybe what you need is to see her again. It might put some things to rest."
He considered. It was a very difficult decition for him. All of those years of wondering how she was feeling at that very moment. Where, if the whole mess had never happened, would he be sleeping that night? In Leia's arms? Would their love have lasted? Did it last until this day?
"You're probably right. But I don't want to see her. It'd...be weird. But I'll drop you off, okay? And you better run quick off the ship, 'cause as soon as I hit the ground, I'm blasting out of there just as fast."
Luke nodded. "Fine. Hanna, is that all right?"
Hanna looked down in thought, but looked up again when she realized that that was the same thinking expression that Han had worn just a few minutes ago.
*************
Luke hadn't felt like arguing with his would-be brother when he had refused to see Leia. Normally, Luke would have lectured him about the importance of love and not hiding from your past, but it was such an old pain. Luke wanted to just let it heal for everyone's sake.
Luke had caught Han staring at Hanna a few times that night while she slept and the other two stayed up talking. The Falcon hummed with the low rumble of hyperdrive engines and everything was still. Hanna looked like Leia while she slept, that was for sure. Luke wondered if Han could remember that night twenty-five years ago when Leia slept on the Falcon for the first time as they fled to Yavin IV. She was Hanna's age, a child then compared to Han's twenty-eight years. She was curvy, slightly chubby, long-haired and dark-eyed. Luke had wondered that night if Han was attracted to her--it was so hard to tell with him. Luke had been. He was in love with the fervor if delusional youth, ready to call any woman to whom he felt a connection his for the rest of his life. That night, he was only interested in Han's feelings as far as competition went. Tonight, Luke wanted to see longing in Han's eyes. Longing for the mother of the beautiful young woman that so resembled her.
"That's right, kiddo," Han repeated. "Blasting in. Blasting out. You don't like it, her highness doesn't like it, tough."
"What about your daughter?"
Han didn't answer, but there was pain in his eyes.