Chapter Twenty-two
Wearing much more conservative clothing than was usual for Evin Daysun - just a plain white shirt, black slacks, boots and his gun-rig - Han paced the hallway outside of Ambassador Chewbacca's fancy office, trying to work up the courage to go inside the lobby. He knew once he opened the door, there would be no going back, and that made his mouth dry and his heart beat noticeably harder in his chest. So far in his new existence he had not revealed his former identity to anyone. Luke and Leia had both discovered him through the Force, and Luke had told Mara his secret. Starting from scratch was going to be a new experience entirely.
He glanced at the chrono on his wrist, noting that he was a bit tardy and he was only delaying the inevitable, especially if Chewie decided the human entertainer wasn't worth his time if he didn't appreciate his busy schedule. Steeling himself, he entered the office lobby where a smallish female - smallish for a Wookiee, anyway - sat behind a desk, tilting her head slightly to acknowledge him as he stepped forward.
"Hello," Han managed to say in a fairly normal tone. "My name is Evin Daysun?"
*Are you certain?* the Wookiee secretary responded.
"Huh?"
*You asked if your name was Evin Daysun. It sounded like there was some question to this matter.*
Well, yeah, Han thought grimly. There sorta is, considering. "I have an appointment to meet with Ambassador Chewie... err, Chewbacca."
*If indeed you are Evin Daysun, then yes, you do have an appointment,* the Wookiee replied shaking her head, indicating how obviously dense she thought Evin Daysun was. She pressed a small button, and woofed into the comm, informing Chewie that his appointment had decided to finally show up. Han heard Chewie respond in the affirmative, and the secretary looked up at Han. *You must have caught him on a good day. He will still see you.* She pointed at a wide wooden door. *Enter through there.*
Obeying her directions, Han pressed another button which granted him access to Chewie's office. Stepping inside was like stepping into the forests of Kashyyyk, with dark paneling, deep greens and muted lighting. The Corellian was impressed and let out a low whistle of appreciation. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he saw Chewie sitting in a large chair, behind a desk made from wroshyr trees. Han felt his throat close up, blinked back the tears that unexpectedly threatened. It felt so incredibly good to see his friend again, and a surge of guilt swept over him. Chewie never deserved for Han to willingly, knowingly, cut him out of his life.
*Have a seat,* Chewie said, waving his large paw toward a chair in front of his desk and watching with keen eyes as Han sat down. *I am very interested in knowing why a human would seek to get my permission to conduct a concert on Kashyyyk. I am even more curious as to why the human believes Wookiees would pay to hear any human sing a concert, as most Wookiees have no interest in human music whatsoever.*
"Well, see," Han said nervously. "That's not why I'm really here."
The Wookiee leaned forward, resting his massive arms on top of the desk as Chewie's eyes took on a predatory gaze. *Then, please, enlighten me, Mr. Daysun. I have never heard of you until you made your appointment. I took the time to research who you are, watch vid-snips of your songs and concerts, and I did not like what I read, heard or saw. You do not seem like the sort that would commit to a single female and you have hurt someone I care very deeply about. I do not take kindly to a human male that takes advantage of a human female that I care about - and that someone I once loved cared very, very deeply about.*
For even though Chewie had been upset and disappointed in Leia for leaving Han, he also understood that his human cub never stopped loving his Little Princess. The Wookiee recalled how, in the throes of fever, Han called out for Leia, whispering through his cracked lips how much he missed her. Watching Han slowly die, knowing his cub felt abandoned and unloved, had ripped Chewie's heart in pieces. After Han had passed away, Chewie held a grudge against Leia for several years, only releasing his own bitterness in the past year. And now, watching the holo-news about her crumbling marriage and having her child kept away from her by the vengeful husband, Chewie had thawed even further. Han would not have desired Leia's unhappiness, and neither did Ambassador Chewbacca.
Han blinked, blindsided by Chewie's words. Of course the Wookiee was referring to Leia. It hadn't occurred to Han, up until this very moment, that Chewie would be highly upset over Evin Daysun's affair with the Princess, an affair that cost Leia her marriage, her title and most importantly, her child. This conversation was not going as Han had anticipated.
He swallowed, suddenly concerned over his own safety. "What you've read isn't what really happened."
*So you are not having an affair with the Princess? And she did not leave Hapes and move into your home with you? And she has not lost her female cub because of you?*
"Listen, Chewie..."
The Wookiee stood up suddenly, letting loose with a tremendous roar. *DO NOT CALL ME CHEWIE! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU WORTHLESS GUTTER-VRELTH?* The Wookiee stalked around the edge of the desk, and Han jumped up, trying to put his chair between the enraged Wookiee and his own body, knowing it would be like trying to protect himself by holding up a sheet of flimsi.
"Wait! I can explain!" Han shut his eyes, expecting to be physically thrown from the office, at the very best.
Chewie stopped in front of the frightened human. *Why did you not pull your weapon?*
Han tentatively opened one eye, looking up at his tall friend. The thought of shooting Chewie hadn't even crossed his mind. "I would never, ever shoot you."
The Wookiee gave a sniff in Han's direction. *You have the Princess's smell on you.*
Han grinned warily. "I'll be sure to tell her you said she smells, especially since she said the same thing about me."
Chewie frowned. *I do not mean she smells. She has her own scent. It is not the same as smelling badly.*
"Yeah, that's what she said, too." Han coughed. "Chew..bacca? I have something really, really important to tell you, pal. Can you please go sit back down?"
*Yes, but do not call me 'pal', either. Only one human was ever allowed to call me that.* Chewie went back around the desk and sat back in the chair.
Han remained standing, figuring it gave him a two second head start to make it out the door should the Wookiee change his mind and attack him. He took a deep breath, wishing that Luke or Leia had come along to help him. As fast as he could speak Han said, "MynameusedtobeHanSolo."
The Wookiee didn't move or speak for several agonizingly long seconds. Then he finally said, *This is not funny. I am about to pull your arms out of your sockets for making jokes about him.*
Nervously, Han rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not joking. When you took me to that medical center on Corellia, I was kidnapped by an Imperial doctor that had ..." Han trailed off, realizing how unbelievable this all sounded. It hadn't been so difficult to explain to Luke or Leia, because they could already feel, sense, he was Han Solo. His strange tale then only had to explain how it happened to people who already believed him. "I asked you to let me die on the Falcon," Han said softly. "You should have let me die. Then I wouldn't still be here, messin' up Leia's life."
Chewbacca leaned back in his chair, stunned. He had told no one about Han's last request, although he had lived with the guilt of ignoring that request for the past three and a half years. How did this stranger, a human that looked nothing like Han, that sounded nothing like Han, nor did he smell like Han - how did this human know?
Solo took a deep breath. "Can I tell you what happened to me? Please?"
The Wookiee leaned toward his comm, and contacted his secretary. *Cancel all my appointments for today.*
Attorney Kassidy Mardic gave a sympathetic smile at her client, Princess Leia Organa, formerly Queen Leia Ta'a Chume of Hapes. "Of course, I will do all I can to get your daughter from the Royal Hapan family, but you have to understand what we're up against. While the Hapans have aligned themselves with the New Republic, they are under no obligation to obey our laws regarding custody, even if you should win your case."
Leia gave a frustrated hiss. "And the fact Isolder is lying, the fact he's had countless affairs since our marriage has no bearing on this? The Queen Mother keeps two dozen concubines, for Sith's sake! The reasoning they used to force me to leave the Consortium is that Evin has pubic hair, not that I had sex with him! That Royal Family is mentally ill, Kassidy!"
"I understand, Princess Leia, and I'm on your side, here," Mardic replied. "I know you didn't abandon Isabell, but that's not how the public sees it. At least not right now." She smiled gently. "I know you're continuing your Jedi training with your brother on Corellia, but living in Evin Daysun's house isn't doing your case any favors right now."
"It's not what anyone thinks. This isn't just a fling with a good-looking celebrity. I love him, and he loves me."
"Then you have the envy of millions of females throughout the galaxy, including me," she said lightly, although Leia could tell she wasn't joking. "Are you and Evin planning on getting married? Or am I too forward for asking?"
Leia considered the question, and she replied truthfully, "When I win my daughter back, I fully intend to marry Evin - if he asks me."
Attorney Mardic's smile grew wider. "Really? You don't strike me as the type of woman to sit and wait around for a man to pop the big question."
"What would you suggest I do?"
"If he dawdles, ask him." Mardic pursed her lips. "But if he says 'yes', be prepared to face the wrath and wailing of ten million heartbroken Evin Daysun fans."
"If I could handle fighting the Empire, I can handle Evin's fans," Leia said dryly. "Just get my Isabell back."
*So you waited for over three years to tell me all this?* Chewie questioned, his blue eyes betraying hurt. He had listened to Han's entire story, but the only thing that had truly convinced Chewie was that this human knew every single answer to questions only Han Solo would have known. After more than a timepart, Chewie now believed.
Han had retaken his seat after realizing that his Wookiee friend wasn't going to attack him. He looked down at the marble floor, feeling ashamed. "I went to Kashyyyk to find you, right away after I recovered from the transfer. Then I found out you moved here, and you'd taken a big, important job as Ambassador. I... just couldn't bring myself to take that away from you." He looked over the desk at Chewie. "You would have left this job, Malla, Lumpy... for me. And it wasn't necessary anymore. You'd fulfilled your Life Debt to me, 'cuz I'd died."
*That was not your decision to make, Cub.*
Han didn't know how to respond. He rubbed the edge of the smooth desk with his fingers. "I wish you'd have kept the Falcon."
*If I had known you still were alive, I would have.* The Wookiee opened one of the large drawers and rummaged inside. *I kept these, as a memory of you.* He pushed long ribbons across his desk toward Han, two gold and two red stripes. *Your bloodstripes.*
Solo felt another wave of shame as he recalled telling Luke that Chewie destroyed the Millennium Falcon so he wouldn't remember him. Yet, here was proof that the Wookiee kept a reminder of Han Solo by his side every day.
With a trembling hand, he reached over and took the bloodstripes. "I won't be able to wear these anymore, you know. Evin Daysun didn't earn them, and I'd have a lot of explaining to do if I tried."
Chewie gave a soft wuff and stood up again. This time Han didn't put a chair between them when he rose from his seat and accepted the bone-crushing hug from his partner. Chewie set Han back on his feet and said, amusement in his voice, *I would like to hear you explain those tight, white flight suits I have seen you wearing in those holo-vids. You know, the one with the sparkles... or the one with the fringes...or the one...*
Han held up his hands to stop Chewie. "Okay, okay! Enough. I get it. I fell into a really bizarre career, but I don't think I can extract myself from it anymore. I'm stuck like a bantha trapped in a tar-pit."
*What does the Princess think about all those females throwing intimate undergarments at you? Or, better yet, what does she think about all the sweaty rags you give out to those love-crazed females?* Chewie shook his head ruefully, then said with a laugh, *I always made you throw away your sweaty rags. When I think about what they'd be worth now if I'd kept them...*
"They'd be worth nothing," Han said, vaguely annoyed. "I was Han Solo then, not Evin Daysun." He frowned, thinking about Chewie's question. "I'm not too sure what Leia thinks. She seems, um, okay with it, actually. I guess."
*The Princess is becoming a Jedi. She will soon carry a lightsaber, if she doesn't already. With all those females screaming for you to bed them, you had better watch your step with her Cub, or you will have a certain attribute removed with said lightsaber.*
Han gave a weary laugh, and decided he'd tell the part of his story about now being Force-sensitive himself for a later time, and that Luke was nagging to train him. It could wait for another day, especially since he could already anticipate Chewie's laughter over his long-ago comments about 'hokey religions.' "Do you want to go get some ale? My treat."
*Considering the amount of your wealth, it had better be your treat.*
Han grinned. He was looking forward to heading into a seedy bar with Chewie. If anyone recognized him there, it would be unlikely they'd bother him too much with a huge Wookiee baring his fangs in their direction.