Chapter 4 – Kashyyyk

Sam felt a rush of excitement and trepidation as they decanted from hyperspace, half expecting to find a Goa'uld mothership waiting but instead, she saw the verdant green and blue world of Kashyyyk.

She had only just woken after eventually falling back to sleep after her nightmare. At the time, she'd waved off Luke's concerned inquiries, still unsure as to what she was going to tell them about her past.

It had been decided that they would make the smaller jump to Kashyyyk and return the dozen or so Wookies to their home world before making the jump to the Perlemian Trade Route, and from there to Coruscant.

As they dropped through the tallest layer of trees—which were half a kilometre taller than the average—Sam was surprised and awed to see a full grown city suspended in the air. She'd known from the Wookies to expect extraordinarily large trees and knew that though the city seemed to float, it was, in fact, built on a large platform formed from the branches of the giant trees that had grown together, yet she hadn't been able to comprehend just how bit it was.

Their pilot—Sam thought that it was Han—guided them smoothly down and landed on the pad in Rwookrorro. Moments later, Chewie came barrelling out of the cockpit, shortly followed by Han, Luke, and Mara. Luke turned and led them down the ramp and into the warm air of the planet.

Sam was surprised to find that all of the humans were now looking on her as their leader and representative, even as all of the Wookies except Dentralla rushed out and noisily voiced their pleasure at being back on their own planet. Sam watched a tall, brown-furred Wookie stride energetically over to Han and Chewie, giving the former an affectionate head rub and grappling the latter in a violent-looking embrace.

"Don't you want to go with them?" she asked Dentralla, turning to the black and tan Wookie. Dentralla growled a vehement reply and Sam's eyes widened. "You owe me a life debt?" She asked incredulously and more than a little too loud. Dentralla noisily voiced another comment. "On behalf of the others?" She gestured to the rest of Terrell's Wookie task force, eyes nearly popping out of her head. "Look, you don't owe me anything!" Sam told her adamantly. "I didn't do anything!" she told the tall alien.

Dentralla growled a reply, gesturing widely. Because I made it safer for them and I helped them survive long enough to get out? she repeated Dentralla's words in her head, doing a surprisingly good impression of a guppie.

"But-" she protested weakly.

"Hey, I tried that with this great lump of fur, and he hasn't left me in what…about twenty-five years," Han drawled at her with a grin, his affection for Chewie evident in his voice.

Sam had been so busy trying to comprehend what Dentralla had told her that she hadn't noticed their four rescuers and the new Wookie walk up, although she did finally manage to shut her mouth.

"I don't need anyone's help," she growled, pain obvious on her face. Luke and Mara shared a significant look but refrained from commenting.

"I'd like to introduce you to Rallracheen. He's a liaison, of sorts."

You may call me Ralrra, if you find it easier. When he spoke, Sam was surprised to find that it was much easier to understand, not the more difficult Shyrywook language that she had been expecting. Noticing the blank looks of her fellow ex-slaves, she quickly translated for them.

You are their spokesperson? Ralrra asked her.

"Uh, yeah, it looks like it," she replied awkwardly, shortly followed by an uncomfortable silence.

Do you have a name? Ralrra finally inquired.

Sam looked at him blankly…a name…nobody had used her name since she was first kidnapped. They had just called her 164 or "Oi, you!"

"Sam, Sam Carter," she finally replied, blushing slightly at the stupidity of it and pointedly ignoring the amused looks in Han and Mara's eyes, though their outward expressions were calm. Luke shot them a reproving glare, silently reminding them that it was hardly something to laugh at.

Well then, Samcarter, if you would advise them that we will be going into the city, where you will be given food and a chance to rest. Sam did as she was asked and obediently followed as they were led to dwellings where they were given a meal and directed on how to use the 'freshers to shower, much to Sam's relief. Having had to wear the same pair of dirty, sweat-stained clothes for the last couple of days had started to get annoying, to say the least.


Sam was lying on the oversized bed in the oversized building, sleeping lightly but peacefully when she suddenly awoke with a start, swiftly grabbing the blaster that lay under her pillow, turning and pointing it directly between the eyes of the person that had woken her.

She expelled her breath in relief when she recognized Mara, who was standing, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry," she said quietly, running her hand through her hair, revelling in the feeling of being clean.

"Don't be," Mara told her with a shrug. "You didn't shoot me." Though she didn't say it, Sam got the feeling that Mara understood what it felt like to be that jumpy and nervous all the time. "I just came to tell you that the feast in honour of the return of the Wookies is going to be starting in a half hour. Ralrra's going to meet you all and lead you there in twenty."

"Thanks," Sam said with a smile, which Mara briefly returned before heading out to wake the others. Standing and stretching in the soft, woollen Wookie robe that was almost drowning her. She had put it on while her clothes were washed for her and, glancing at the chair by the door, she saw that they had been returned to her.

Padding over to it, she quickly dressed in the black pants and tank top, deciding to pull the blue head sheath over her head too, expecting it to get cold as night drew on, though she left the cylinder of material draped around her neck for the time being.

She glanced at her wrist chrono—she would have called it a watch years ago, but the terms of this galaxy had slipped themselves into her speech—and noted that she had slept though the night and into the evening and now felt much better for it. Frowning, she re-adjusted the positioning of the chrono so that it once again covered the dark shapes of the number 164 that had been tattooed into the inside of her wrist, unchanged by the thin white lines of scars that criss-crossed her hands and lower arms.

Slipping into the knee-high nerf hide boots, she quickly strapped on her holster, sliding the blaster into its rightful place. Grabbing her jacket as she went, she walked silently out to the hall of the dwelling and leaned against the doorjamb, gazing out on the forest as she waited for her fellow humans and Ralrra.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Turning in surprise, she saw the tall, dark-haired form of one of the newest workers. He hadn't been there more than a couple of days, but he'd been one of the most outspoken of the slaves that she'd seen.

"Yes," she replied simply, giving him a small smile.

"Sam, right?" he finally asked, as if he'd been debating with himself whether or not he dared to ask her. She nodded at him. "I'm D-"

"Derren Smithson, I know."

"How…?" he asked, eyes wide with wonder. Sam shrugged.

"I know everyone's name," she told him, grinning at his surprise. He didn't fail to notice the sad look that never left her eyes, though.

"Then why do you never use them?" he asked quietly, almost knowing the answer intuitively. Every trace of amusement vanished from her face, and she diverted her eyes back out of the forest.

"Because no one was ever going to live long enough for it to matter," she said quietly after several minutes of silence.

They remained in silence during the long minutes until the rest of their group arrived, followed shortly by Ralrra.

Everyone is present? He asked her, receiving a nod in reply from Sam, who had subconsciously checked that none of the group had been killed since she last saw them. Then let us go.


The feast was spectacular by any standards. There was little left now of the copious amounts of food that had been laid out for the family and close friends of those Wookies that had returned, including several dishes of cooked meat for the human contingent, for which they were very grateful.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to smile," Han said as he sauntered over to her, a glass of honey-water in each hand. "I mean, it's not everyday you get rescued," he quipped. Sam smiled at him, though that hint of sadness was still in her eyes, and reached out to take the cup he proffered.

"Thanks."

"No pro—wait, what's that?" he said, cutting himself off with a frown.

"What's what?" Luke asked as he joined the duo.

"Here." Han handed Luke his cup and snatched Sam's from her before thrusting it into the startled Jedi Master's hands. "These. I've seen scars like this before," Han told them.

"So?" Sam growled, trying to pull her hands back to herself defensively.

"You've worked in a glitterstim processing factory," he accused her, an odd look on his face.

"So? What if I have?" she replied gruffly, still on the defensive, though she didn't know what she should be defensive about.

"Han," Luke warned, sensing Sam's unease.

"Oh, it's uh, just…the only place I've ever known that to happen, they had the workers addicted to this creepy exultation thing," Han said, shifting uncomfortably.

Sam frowned, scrutinising Han closely. "You knew someone who-"

"Yeah." He cut her off brusquely. "Knew," He said with more than a tinge of sadness.

"I heard about that place," Luke said, handing the drinks back to their respective owners, "when I was looking for information on the Jedi. But the records said that it was destroyed by a rebel leader who managed to gain a lot of funding out of it." Han snorted. "Bria Tharen, that was the rebel leader." Sam could see the skin around Han's eyes tighten perceptibly, and Luke felt his pain through the Force at the mention of the name.

"Oh, it's definitely gone. Blown to hell if I remember rightly."

"You were there?" Luke asked in surprise.

"Yeah, they wouldn't have managed it without us - me and Lando and a bunch of other lowlifes."

"Then why doesn't it say anything in the-"

"Because Bria double crossed us. We were supposed to get a share in the takings, but the rebels took it and ran." Han spat bitterly. "Didn't you ever wonder why I seemed so angry at the rebellion way back when, kid?"

"Han, I'm sorry."

"Don't be…" Han's voice softened. "I'd probably be a notch in some bounty hunters belt by now if it weren't for the rebellion." Han shrugged, visibly shrugging off the veil of sadness and bitterness that had fallen on him at the mention of his first true love, the woman who had died for the rebellion. Luke nodded and turned back to Sam.

"So how long were you there then?" he asked her, curious about the woman who was so closed off about her past.

"About 3 years."

"THREE YEARS?" Han spluttered. "How'd you manage to survive that long?" Sam shrugged.

"It's a habit," she told him briefly, a flicker of amusement crossing her eyes for a moment. Luke decided to ignore the strange comment as Han headed off to see Malla and Waroo, Chewie's wife and son, Han's honour family.

"Have you thought about coming to the academy?" Luke asked as he seated himself cross-legged on the floor.

"Yes," she replied simply, though Luke could feel her underlying pain through the Force. "I'll come; although I don't think I can do all of this…Force stuff."

"You're wrong. You do it all the time without even realising it," he replied, unable to keep the grin off of his face.

"What?"

"I spoke to Mara earlier. She said that you knew she was in the room before you were properly awake. Just now, you knew what Han was feeling, and in the cantina, you knew you were being watched, and you knew you were being followed," he told her earnestly, his face alight, forcibly reminding her of Daniel when he found an interesting new site.

"That's just paranoia, body language, and experience." She waved him off, pushing all thoughts of her life on Earth away.

"Don't belittle yourself Sam; it's more than that!" he reprimanded her.

"Damn it, its not…it's what happens to you when you spend every night for a long time wondering if you'll survive the next day, if you'll be killed in your sleep because some slime-ball thought that if you weren't in the way, they could get your food, or, or take your workplace because it might be just that little bit better than theirs. Why do you think Terrell let me have a blaster? I couldn't shoot him because a dead-man switch would have killed us all. I had to be able to protect myself. He didn't want his star worker going and dieing! How else would he be able to keep his profits up?" Luke stared at her in stunned silence as she took a deep breath and reigned in her anger, feeling strangely better after her outburst.

"I'm sorry…I can't imagine…"

"No. You can't."

"But I still think you are wrong." Sam glared at him and he shrugged. "Let's try a quick exercise, just a meditation technique." Sam nodded slowly and he continued. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Concentrate on your breathing and reach out with your mind, try to feel the Force, feel the life around you."

It took a long time - time which Sam lost all track of - but with Luke's constant coaching and soothing encouragement, she finally managed it.

Her eyes snapped open and she lost the connection, but it had been there, a wonderful, uplifting feeling of life that rushed through her.

"I did it!" she breathed, a broad grin on her face.

"Do you believe me now?" Luke asked her, grinning with her.

"Maybe…a little," Sam conceded playfully, thinking that she maybe would have a place here after all. It wasn't home - wasn't Earth - but she could maybe make herself a new home.

Luke watched her as she left after bidding him goodnight, his thoughts more troubled than she knew.

He wondered if he was doing the right thing in training someone who was so closed off, so secretive, and who held so much anger within her. Something within himself told him that she wasn't the type to be calm, that she was passionate about everything, and he hoped that she could learn to control those passions, to forsake her anger.

On top of this, another worry plagued his mind…why had she found it so difficult to reach out to the Force? With a sigh he levered himself off of the floor and went in search of Mara, knowing that his friend would understand him and maybe help.