A small, scruffy boy pelted down the alleyway, splashing through puddles and bursting through a small scrum of street kids, two furious teenagers on his heels.
Freezing cold rain and a harsh wind bit at his face as he ran, his hair dripping water and sweat into his eyes. As he went to turn a corner he slipped in a patch of mud and fell, skinning his elbow. He grunted and started to push himself up but felt a sharp tug at the back of his vest where one of them had grabbed him.
He was lifted up off the ground, squirming and kicking as the pursuer who wasn't holding him, the leader, came to face him. Feeling completely desperate, the boy swung his head forward to head-butt him sharply, before wriggling out of his vest and falling to the ground. He took their brief moment of confusion to slip out of their reach and down a narrow alleyway, taking a series of sharp turns in the hopes that he'd lose them.
Once he reached a larger street, with stores, bars and cantinas lining the road where speeders slid by, he slowed down. A small enforcement squad were patrolling across the street. He heard the footfalls of his pursuers slow when they saw them too.
"Hey!" One of the teenagers suddenly yelled. "Hey, troopers! Thief! This kid's a thief! Stop him!"
The young boy's eyes widened in disbelief. Bringing troopers into the midst of any dispute was never a good idea. By the time he'd gathered himself, the squad had crossed the street and were approaching him. "Stop right there, kid!" One of them shouted as he moved to walk away.
He froze and turned back to face them. "What's wrong?" He asked, doing his best to sound innocent.
"They say you stole from them. I think we'd better check your pockets."
"I didn't steal nothin'!" He shouted as a trooper grabbed his arm and held him still. "Hey, come on! I'm just a kid! They've got deathsticks!" He said desperately.
The trooper staring him down paused for a moment, turned to the teenagers behind him. "Is that so?" He said slowly as the one holding the boy let go. As soon as he felt the enforcer's hand move, the boy bolted.
He'd never run faster. He ran until his chest burned and his legs felt that they might collapse under him.
He finally reached his home, tall, grey and imposing from a distance, rusting and derelict up close. He stopped outside the entrance of the towering apartment block to make sure he hadn't been followed before making his way inside.
A group of children a little older than him sat just inside to shelter from the rain, playing with a shabby Sabacc deck. He was tempted to stop and play for a while, but shook the idea from his head and moved upstairs instead. He climbed and climbed until he reached the fifteenth floor, entirely puffed out. He slid their door open and stepped inside, pulling his muddy boots off.
"Ma, I got two extra portions!" He said excitedly, hurrying into the bedroom and clambering up at her side. "And some medicine. So you'll feel better," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small packet of medication.
Jaina lay curled up on her side under a blanket, her black hair limp and thin. The fever had given her a flush high on her cheeks and red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes which she opened when she heard her son's voice. She reached a thin, trembling arm out towards him and beckoned him closer.
"Hi, Han," Jaina smiled, brimming with love for her little boy. He was so strong. At eight he was providing for them better than his father ever had. She knew he did so by stealing and scamming. But they had little choice. Jonash had lost his job over a year before, and had no hope of finding another.
Her health was worsening by the day. She knew one day, probably quite soon, Han would come home to find her gone. This in mind, she reached out to him. He snuggled close, forgetting how wet and muddy he was. "What kind of medicine is it, baby?" She asked, pushing his wet hair out of his face.
"It's so it doesn't hurt so much. That's what the man said. Will you try it?"
She'd try anything. Anything that might buy her an extra day, even an extra hour with her boy. Anything that might stop it from hurting when she pulled him too close or when he spoke too loudly. "I'll try it, sweetheart," she said quietly.
He nodded and carefully got two tablets out of the bag. "He said to start with two but you can have more if you need them."
"Where did you get them, baby?" She asked, swallowing the pills.
"From the medic place," he said, watching her carefully.
"You went to a real medic?"
"Uh-huh. I told him you were sick and hurting and he gave me those."
"Did you have to pay?"
Han nodded. "I had some credits. Are you feelin' better now?" He asked, rubbing at his skinned elbow.
She smiled and kissed his forehead. "Much better. Are you hurt?"
He shrugged. "It's not bad. I just fell over."
"You're all muddy." She wished he was muddy with skinned elbows from playing like an eight-year-old should, but she knew he wasn't.
"I'll go clean up," he said, leaning up to kiss her cheek then climbing down from the bed. Before he left, Han reached a small, grimy hand out to touch her forehead. "You're hot again, Ma. I'll get some water too."
"No, love. Just stay with me for now," she said, taking his hand in her own and giving it a squeeze. "Where's your vest, little one?" She asked.
Han cleared his throat and looked at his feet. "I lost it. I'm sorry. But, Ma, they grabbed me and I slipped right out of it and got away. Can I have a new one?"
She smiled fondly and pushed his limp hair back from his eyes again. "I'll make you another one, baby. But you have to be more careful. You scare me. Who grabbed you?"
Han smirked. "Don't worry, Ma. I can take care of myself."
"I know," she whispered. "You're my brave boy. I need to sleep now, little love."
Han cocked his head to one side. "Don't you wanna eat now?"
"In a little while, baby. I just need to sleep."
"You need some water first, Ma. I'll be right back," he said, pulling away from her and hurrying out to their tiny kitchen. His father was reclining on the sofa. Han couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. But he made sure to keep his steps quiet as he searched for their water rations. The pile of portion packets was alarmingly small. It was collection day tomorrow, so he'd be able to restock a little. But that didn't help his mother now.
He heard a grunt and his father's tread before his voice. "What're you doing in there?" Jonash often reminded Han a little of a Rancor. He'd seen pictures of the beasts on holo-commercials and their hulking figures, oversized shoulders and bulging muscles made him think of his father. He towered over his son who was, in comparison, small and skinny. Jonash had grown up on the wealthy side of Coronet City, well-fed and cared for before he'd gambled his inheritance, his dignity, and his reputation away. His son, therefore, had grown up on the other side of the city, malnourished and a little neglected.
Han stood up and spun around. "I'm getting water for Ma. She's hot again. I can't find the rations."
"We're out," he said gruffly, heading down to the bedroom and leaving Han alone in the kitchen.
The small boy frowned and looked again before giving up. He didn't bother trying the sink, their plumbing had been cut off for nearly six months and the water wasn't always clean enough to drink anyway.
Han snuck out of the kitchen and made his way over to the corner of the living room where he slept. A small mattress was pushed up against the wall, a few thin blankets strewn over it. Han's clothes lay in a messy pile beside the bed, and on the wall right beside the mattress, he had taped a piece of torn flimsiplast which showed a section of a navigational chart. He couldn't read the words that noted the planets, stars and systems on the map, but Han knew they were far away from here.
He knelt on his mattress and very carefully peeled the star chart from the wall. He looked over his shoulder, listening for a moment before turning back to the wall. He nudged a panel on the wall which once covered some kind of ventilation system. It had been years since the system had worked, so one day while his father was out at the cantina, Han had pried the panel open and pulled out every mechanical part he could reach. He'd sold most of them, and they'd kept the family fed for days.
Now, the panel easily came loose, and Han set it beside him, reaching into the cavity which now held his stash of portions, spare parts, credits, and a tiny model freighter he'd made out of scrap - modelled after the ships he'd once seen his father working on at the CEC plant.
He rummaged around the hiding space until his fingers closed around a water portion. Han grinned to himself and stuffed it into his pocket, quickly replacing the panel and taping his map back up. His hair and clothes were still dripping wet and muddy, his elbow still bleeding. He grimaced as he stood up from his mattress and saw the patch of mud and rain he'd left there, but he didn't have time to wash up just yet. His Ma was only ever able to stay awake for a few minutes at a time.
"Ma," he called as he hurried back to the bedroom. His father glared at him.
"She's resting, you get outta here," he snapped.
Han frowned at him. "No," he said defiantly. "She needs water. She's got a fever."
"I told you we were outta water," Jonash said, grabbing him roughly by the collar. "You hidin' something from me, kid?"
"No!" Han said, trying to squirm away from him.
Jonash glared at him and pointed a finger in his face. "Don't you lie to me."
"I'm not," Han said, wriggling some more. "I found it. It was in with the food rations. It was under stuff. Ma needs it," he said quietly.
His father glared at him, but let go of his shirt. "I better never catch you lyin' to me, Han."
He shook his head. "No, sir," he said, looking at his feet.
"Take it to your mother then," Jonash said firmly before leaving the room.
Han quickly made his way to Jaina's bedside. "Ma, you need to wake up for just a second," he said, reaching over to gently shake her shoulder. "Ma."
She stirred and slowly opened her eyes, trying to suppress her groan at the pain in her head. "Han, you're soaked."
He'd forgotten he was even wet. The little boy shook his head and opened the portion packet "You need to drink some of this. Then you can go back to sleep."
She sat up, wincing and closing her eyes for a moment before taking the packet from her son's trembling hand. "Baby, you need to get dry and warm," she said, sipping at the water.
"I will in a minute. Are you feeling better?"
"Much better, love," she lied. "Let me help you dry off," she said, starting to pull herself out of bed.
"No, you just rest. I'll go change, I'll be right back." He tucked her back in and hurried out into the living room where he found some dry clothes and a raggedy towel, going to the 'fresher to get changed. Once he was as dry as he could be, he redressed and went back to his mother's room.
"Come lie with me, little one. You must be tired," she said when she saw his small silhouette in the doorway.
He nodded and made his way over to her, curling up at her side. Jaina pulled a blanket over him and held him close. "You're freezing," she said softly, rubbing his back.
Han shrugged, still shivering a little. "It's cold out. And raining."
"You should have stayed inside today," she sighed.
He shrugged again. "You didn't tell me to."
Jaina smiled and kissed his nose. "Now what would be the point of telling you to do something?"
Han smirked. "Sometimes I think about doing stuff you tell me to."
She held him impossibly closer and sighed, breathing him in.
"Ma?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Are you still awake?"
She chuckled. "Yes, love. I'm still awake."
"When I'm big, I'm gonna be a pilot," he told her, very seriously.
"Is that so?" She asked, gently running her fingers through his damp hair, his skinny form relaxing in her hold.
"Uh-huh. The best one in the whole galaxy."
"Mama's gonna get you an ID chip so you can do just that," she promised, kissing the top of his head.
"Needles is gonna show me how to fly. He already showed me how to boost…" he trailed off, fiddling with his hands.
"Han," Jaina said firmly. "You better not be boosting anything."
"I wasn't. Just practising."
She sighed. "Well I don't want you practicing either. You're a good boy. You're not a criminal."
"I am," he said softly. "Sometimes I just have to be, Ma."
"Stealing a few ration tickets is different to boosting a speeder," Jaina said quietly. "Just try to do the right thing, okay?"
Han nodded and closed his eyes for a few moments, resting in her arms. "Ma? Are… Are you gonna get better?" He asked softly, not looking up at her.
Jaina sighed. "I don't know, baby. Maybe not."
"Are you gonna die?"
"Maybe," she said quietly. "I hope not. I hope I get to see you grow up to be a big, handsome pilot," she said, tilting his face up so she could look at him. "But either way, you'll be okay. You're a brave boy."
"I can take care of myself," he nodded, rubbing his eyes.
Jaina kissed his cheek. "Go to sleep, little one," she whispered.
"Can you sing, Mama?"
She smiled and nodded, starting to sing softly, gently running her fingers through his hair.
Han woke up to somebody roughly shaking his shoulders. He blinked slowly and squinted in the low light until his eyes focused on the figure of his father. "Get up, boy. You don't sleep here," the man said gruffly, grabbing Han's arm and tugging him out of the bed.
"I was just helping Ma go to sleep," Han said quietly, rubbing his eyes as his father took his place on the bed, pulling Jaina's sleeping body close.
"Get outta here. It's late," his father grumbled, rolling over and closing his eyes.
Han made his way out of the room and briefly considered going to his corner to sleep. Instead, he grabbed a blanket from his bed and quietly left the apartment, climbing the stairs until he reached the top of the building. He pulled a small piece of scrap metal from his pocket and jimmied the lock on the door open. He closed the door behind him as he made his way to the centre of the roof.
It had stopped raining, but it was still freezing as Han lay on the concrete, pulling the blanket over himself and putting his hands behind his head as a pillow.
He looked up.
The cloud covering had cleared, and while the light and air pollution of the capital hindered the view of the night sky, Han could still make out the stars. Even at this hour, ships were occasionally taking off from the Coronet Spaceport. He could see them blasting into the sky, away from Corellia. He was sure they were leaving for good. He would too, one day when he had his own ship. He'd take his family far, far away from here and they would be happy. His father would stop yelling, his mother would get better, and he'd be a pilot.
In the meantime, he was content to lie on the roof watching the ships take off and the stars, planets and systems flicker away in the sky above him.