Han wrenched the hydrospanner hard, trying to unstick the bolt in the ship component lying in his lap. He glanced back up at the kid, still talking to somebody or other that had met his old man in passing once upon a time, trying to get every scrap of information he could about him.
The old Clone Wars veteran chuckled and clapped Luke on the shoulder. "Yes, your father was a sight to behold. I only ever met him a couple of times, but he was the talk of the galaxy. Always saving some new planet or winning a battle in some outrageous and completely brilliant way. General Skywalker was one of a kind, that man." The veteran turned and made his way through the crowded hangar of the Rebels' new base on who knew which planet, leaving Luke standing alone.
Han's hands froze, the hydrospanner still up in the air. General Skywalker. Surely he couldn't mean…that General Skywalker?
Sure, the kid had said about a million times his dad was a Jedi named Skywalker, and he occasionally mentioned his first name, too, but Han had never thought the kid's dad could be that General Skywalker. It wasn't possible the kid's dad could be that famous. He thought he must have just shared the name or something.
Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear. Han's best friend's father. Now that he thought about it, he guessed he could see the resemblance. He could see the connection to the face he gazed at on the tiny holo he had kept precious, hidden in his shoe when he had one so none of Shrike's other kids could steal it. The greatest pilot in the galaxy, they called him. The greatest fighter. He freed systems, fought for millions.
Han had always liked to pretend Anakin was fighting for him, too. For the little downtrodden kids forced to steal for slavers. He'd scour every Corellian holo broadcast for mentions of his name, glory in his exciting exploits. Anakin Skywalker was everything Han had ever wanted to be. Brave, bold, daring, the greatest pilot ever, and winning. Always winning and fighting for the little guys. Like Han wanted to. Like he never could.
Sometimes, at night, in the dark, whenever the boys had pushed him around too much, stolen his stash, when Shrike would beat him or he'd go to bed hungry, he'd dream that the Hero with No Fear had learned about these kids being pushed around and forced to steal for Shrike. He'd picture Anakin Skywalker coming in with lightsaber swinging, just like in the war holos, and arresting Shrike's whole gang, killing those who resisted. Shrike would beg for mercy, and Anakin would say, "I don't offer mercy to slaver scum," and drive his lightsaber through his heart. Then he'd notice Han and say, "I hear you're quite the pilot," and offer to take Han with him in his fighter squadron. Han would get to fly in a spaceship and fight for the Republic, and Dewlanna would get to go home to Kashyyyk, and Han would earn a medal saving Anakin's life and take it home to Dewlanna to show her how he'd become a hero of the Republic.
It had been his favorite dream.
Then the Empire had come, and all the Jedi died. Anakin Skywalker died, and eventually, Han's dreams died with him. He did escape Shrike, but on his own, and Dewlanna couldn't come with him. She died getting him to freedom. Eventually, he did join a fighter squadron to fight for the Empire, as the next best thing to fighting by Anakin Skywalker's side for the Republic. But that dream had died almost as soon as it began. His very first mission he had saved Chewie and been kicked out because of it.
But it was better that way. It was better his dreams died because of Chewie than because of disillusionment. It had been a bitter pill when Han had finally realized the Republic he had dreamed of fighting for his entire life was completely gone. The Empire wasn't just a fancy way of saying the same thing. It was something completely different. Something that had killed his hero.
"Are you all right?" Luke asked.
Han started. Luke was sitting on a crate in front of him, his brows furrowed.
Han scowled and tossed the ship part into the crates in front of him, pretending his frustration was all due to the stubborn bolt. "Ah, that bolt won't come loose. What did I need it for anyway?" He tossed the hydrospanner to the ground and put his hands on his hips.
A gentle smile came to Luke's lips. He bent and picked up the part and the hydrospanner and got to work on the bolt. "I'm sure it's not that stuck."
Han swallowed uncomfortably, his eyes on the kid. The overeager, wet-behind-the-ears kid that would do anything for information about his father.
"You, uh, didn't tell me that your dad was that Anakin Skywalker," Han started.
Luke glanced up swiftly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Han scratched his ear. "I didn't think that your dad could be that…" Amazing. The word burst out of the little boy that still lived inside Han. "That…" cool. He swallowed the word down, but it didn't help.
"That what?" Luke put the hydrospanner and ship part aside on the crate next to him, his eyes trained on Han.
"That Anakin Skywalker. General Skywalker. The Hero with No Fear. You didn't tell me your father was the Hero with No Fear," Han said.
"The Hero with No Fear?" Luke repeated. He leaned forward. "You knew him?"
"Well, yeah, I mean…" Han scratched behind his ear. "Everyone knew him. He was all over the holonews, fighting off droids, flying some…" awesome, cool "daring formation, saving kids, freeing slaves. I always thought…" Stop talking, "maybe he'd…" No, seriously, shut your mouth! "Stop by Corellia and…take me with him." You think Luke will still look up to you if you keep talking? "Save me too."
Luke's eyes glowed. "You heard about him? On the news?"
Han shrugged. "Yeah. Everyone did. He was the talk of the galaxy. Hero of the Clone Wars. Went toe to toe with Count Dooku himself time and time again." He felt like a small boy again, standing with a group of street kids gathered around a public holo, listening to their debates about whether or not Anakin's most recent fight with Dooku made him more cool because he'd survived or less cool because he hadn't won.
"Who's Count Dooku?" Luke asked.
"Who's Count…" Han trailed off, squashing the shock. "Just about the only thing people talked about in the Clone Wars. He was their leader. Their big bad. Had a big red lightsaber and called himself a…what was it…something the Jedi liked to talk about Said was their enemy. A…Sith Lord. Yeah, that was it. Your dad fought him a lot. And won, too, eventually. 'Course, then the war ended…" The war ended and suddenly the Jedi, the street kids' heroes, were dead or traitors. They never knew quite what to make of the sudden shift. For some of them, a lot of them, what happened at the end of the war came like a stab in the heart.
"Did you ever…meet him in person?" Luke asked.
Han shook his head. "I wish. That would have been my…" He faltered, hesitant to keep going. But it was Luke. The kid was nice to everyone. He wouldn't make fun of Han. After all, he practically hero-worshipped the guy himself. "That would have been my dream. I always thought maybe he'd…come with his lightsaber and…kill all the guys who were raising me…they were…real awful, you see, real pieces of work…and then he'd see what a good pilot I was, or know with his Jedi-ness and take me with him and I'd be…" He shrugged. "Free."
Luke's eyes shone. He opened his mouth several times, but didn't seem to quite know what to say.
"It's stupid, I know. I was just a stupid kid. Why would a Jedi ever pay attention to me?" Han got up swiftly and turned toward the Falcon but stopped. "I've got something to show you…if you'd like."
Luke nodded and followed him to the ship, taking the ship part and the hydrospanner with him. He dumped it in the common room on the Falcon.
Han led Luke into his room on the Falcon. He dug under his bunk and pulled out the holo he'd managed to keep safe all these years. The sign he'd kept that Han's dreams weren't dead. That the hero Anakin Skywalker inspired wasn't completely dead. He sat down on the bunk and took a deep, steadying breath, then activated it.
A tiny Anakin Skywalker appeared looking as he had during the height of the Clone Wars. A Knight with his own padawan, but not with that longer hair he'd gotten at the end of the Clone Wars. Han had let his hair grow out as Anakin had grown his. It was a very short clip of him swinging his lightsaber, clones by his side. The words "The Hero with No Fear!" spun above the short clip of Skywalker charging forward deflecting blaster bolts. He pressed a button to activate the sound that was on repeat.
"For the Republic!" Anakin cried.
Luke knelt to become eye level with the holo. He reached out, his fingers brushing the holo. Tears glistened in his eyes. "He was so…" He fell silent for a bit. "Full of life."
Han nodded. Before he could lose his nerve, he passed the holo into Luke's hands. "You can keep that. It's, it's probably better. He would want you to have it, it's… He's your father, and… you don't have him." Han shrugged.
Luke's hand tightened around the holo. He smiled, his eyes shining. The gaze he leveled at Han made him uncomfortable, as if he was his big brother he saw as his hero. Han was no hero. Luke would just get disappointed if he believed in Han like that. He wasn't like Luke's father was.
"Thank you," Luke said. "Thank you so much." He stood and drew Han into a hug.
"Aw, kid," Han said. He patted him on the back, his face growing hot.
Luke drew back, his smile shining. "It means a lot, Han. Thank you."
Han nodded jerkily, then stood up swiftly. "I've got some repairs to do on the Falcon. You can join in if you want to."
Luke nodded back. "Sure."
Han walked back to the common room to grab his hydrospanner.
"I wonder if Ben was just as famous as my father apparently was," Luke mused.
"Hmm?" Han asked, picking up the hydrospanner from the gaming table. "The old man?"
"Ben—Obi-Wan Kenobi. He trained my father. He said they were good friends," Luke said matter-of-factly.
Obi-Wan Kenobi. Hardly anybody used that name in connection with the old man around Han. It was always Ben this, Ben that, or Kenobi this, Kenobi that. Kenobi wasn't a completely uncommon name, at least on Stewjon, where Han had smuggled spice once. There was an entire massive Kenobi clan he had interacted with while he was there.
The hydrospanner fell from Han's hand, clattering to the table. "General Kenobi?" His voice was faint and far away.
"Yeah. Leia said in her message in Artoo that he fought with my father in the Clone Wars," Luke said.
Han's legs grew weak. He sat down hard on the bench. "That old man was the Negotiator?"
Notes: I have a lot of feels about tiny fanboy Han, okay? You can't tell me Han didn't hear about the Hero with No Fear a lot on Corellia, and the way he is, there's no way he didn't become a fanboy. Just the Empire killing them all killed his dreams and his belief in the Jedi until another Skywalker came along to restore his faith in them. Not making up the hair thing. Not sure why his hair was actually that long when he was ten, but google Han Solo Revenge of the Sith concept art. You won't regret it. Just think how Han'll react if he ever finds out Chewie met his hero. Also, I've got a lot of feels about big Han in my On Second Thought universe growing up staying a fan of Anakin Skywalker and finally one day getting to meet him. One day I'll actually get around to writing it. I don't know if Han ever took spice to Stewjon and met Obi-Wan's family, but indulge me.