AN: Thanks again to the readers and reviewers! And yes, I had to put Lando in this story somewhere. I have no idea what he's up to in the TFA timeframe, but he deserves a role here.

"Without a Heart"

By EsmeAmelia

Chapter 4

The city planet of Coruscant was larger and busier than Rey could have imagined. After she and Chewie touched the Falcon down on the landing platform, she stared out the viewport for several moments, watching the speeders zip to and fro in their hypnotic manner around the buildings so tall they looked like they could peek into space.

"So much . . ." she murmured.

"So much what?" Leia asked from the back seat.

"Well . . . everything." Despite all that had happened, Rey found herself smiling. "I've never seen any place so busy."

"Yes, it's busy," said Leia. "Han and I used to live here back . . . back when things were happier." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, it looks like our escort's here, so let's get going."

A few minutes later, the group of Rey, Chewie, Leia, Luke, and the droids descended the Falcon's ramp. Around them, other Resistance ships were landing and disembarking, including Poe's X-Wing and the medical transport that housed Finn.

"Excuse me, General," said 3PO, "but who did you say our escort is?"

"You'll see," said Leia.

As the small band of Resistance members made it across the landing platform, with the medical droids guiding Finn's hovering stretcher bringing up the rear, a group of the chancellor's guards made their way to greet them. Leading the guards was a dark-skinned older man with graying hair, a mustache, and a wide grin that reminded Rey of Han's grin.

"General Organa!" the man exclaimed. "Good to see you!"

"General Calrissian," Leia greeted back, allowing the man to kiss her hand.

However, once he was done with the formalities, the man's grin faded and he looked at Leia with sincerity in his eyes. "Leia . . ." he said, ". . . I . . . heard what happened to Han."

Leia's mouth twisted. "I'm . . . I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" the man exclaimed. "I'm just his friend, but you're his wife." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm the one who should be sorry." He wrapped his arms around her. "It's . . . it's not gonna be the same without him. I'm not ashamed to say that I broke down and cried when I heard."

After pulling out of the embrace, he noticed the company she was keeping. "Luke? Is that really you? I thought you'd vanished off the face of the galaxy."

Luke looked slightly embarrassed as he approached the man and they shared a quick hug. "Yeah Lando, it's me."

"Lando?" Rey exclaimed, her eyes widening at the man. "You're Lando Calrissian? The general who helped destroy the second Death Star?"

Lando grinned at her. "Well well, looks like I've got a young fan. And who might you be?"

"I'm Rey."

"Rey?" For some reason he glanced up at Luke before offering her his hand. "Well, nice to meet you, Rey. I take it this is your first visit to Coruscant?"

Rey shook the general's hand. "Yes, it is. In fact, up until a month ago I'd never been anywhere."

"Then remind me to show you the sights sometime – but right now, the chancellor's waiting for us." He nodded up at the group. "Come with me."

As the group followed Lando and the other guards, Rey kept glancing back at Finn's stretcher, praying that the hospital he was being transferred to would be able to cure him.

. . .

"Leia!"

The instant Leia, Luke, and Rey entered Chancellor Pooja Naberrie's office, the chancellor ran up to her cousin and threw her arms around her, squeezing her in a long, tight hug. Chancellor Naberrie looked close to Han's age, with gray hair tied up in a bun and held in place by a golden hairdress. Rey found herself unexpectedly swallowing. The idea that someone could be Han's age and alive somehow felt strange to her.

"I'm so, so sorry about Han," the chancellor was saying. "I loved him like he was my cousin too. Leia, if there's anything I can do for you, let me know. I don't just mean helping the Resistance – I mean helping you."

"Thank you, Pooja," said Leia.

After pulling out of the embrace, a grin crept into Pooja's cheeks. "Luke? You're back? You're finally back?"

This time it was Luke who initiated the hug with his cousin. "It's been too long," he murmured.

"Darn right it has," said Pooja. "The next time you think of abandoning the galaxy, get your sister to kick your ass first, all right?"

Rey couldn't help but snicker at that, which drew the chancellor's attention to her. Upon laying eyes on the young scavenger, Pooja abruptly released Luke, her eyes widening.

"You . . ." she whispered, ". . . you're Rey, aren't you?"

Rey swallowed. "Um . . . yes."

Pooja approached Rey with the hesitance of approaching a ghost. "You look . . . you look so much like her . . ."

"Like who?"

Only now did Pooja seem to realize she was acting strangely. "I'm . . . I'm sorry . . . you just look so much like my late aunt Padme – Leia and Luke's mother. She died suddenly when I was a girl."

Rey swallowed, unsure how to respond to that. Suddenly she found herself imagining the look of disbelief that would be on Han's face if he were here, which brought a twist to her stomach.

"Oh, look at me," said Pooja. "I gave you a fright, didn't I?" She took a deep breath. "Let's start over here." She offered her hand. "Hello, I'm Chancellor Pooja Naberrie. Leia's told me about you."

Rey shook the chancellor's hand with only a bit of hesitance. "Nice to meet you."

"All right," said Pooja. "Now, everyone have a seat. We've got a lot to discuss."

. . .

The sound . . .

In, out, in, out, in, out . . .

On and on, never ending, never changing . . .

Han had been trying to sleep for an unknown amount of time, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Vader's mask – occasionally merging with Kylo Ren's mask.

And the sound droned on . . .

In, out, in, out, bringing memories of switchboard torture and carbon freezing . . .

Ben was right – that wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to him.

Ben . . .

Why did things turn out this way?

Why Ben?

Why couldn't they save him?

Why?

Why?

Why?

He was finally starting to drift off when the door slid open and Ben came storming into the room, his brow furrowing, his breath sounding like an angry animal, glaring at Han as if he were diseased.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not really," Han answered in his still-unfamiliar rasp. "I haven't moved in ages, after all, but thanks for askin'." Once again he gave his son the tiniest of grins. "Would you like to have a chat, Ben? Maybe you could read my mind again and we could have some father-son bonding time."

Ben growled, pacing back and forth next to his father's bed. "Do you think everything's a joke, Han Solo?"

"Only funny stuff." Han swallowed, sending soreness down his throat. "But if you wanna be serious, I could use some water."

Ben growled again, but to Han's surprise he actually went over to the sink and filled a paper cup with water. He slowly made his way back to his father – was that a bit of hesitance in his eyes? – lowered the cup to his lips . . .

. . . and dumped the water on Han's face.

"There, water!" snarled Ben. "Happy now?"

Han breathlessly sputtered, finding that without air coming out of his mouth, he couldn't spit the bits of water out, so he had to resort to swallowing over and over. He shook his head from side to side as fast as he could without disturbing the tube in his neck, but the droplets insisted on rolling down his skin.

"Just remember, if it were up to me you would be dead, Han Solo!" Ben shouted. "I ran a lightsaber through you once and I'll do it again once your usefulness has been expended." He placed a hand on the machine, above where Han presumed his artificial heart was. "Or maybe I'll just turn that machine off and let you savor a slow, agonizing death."

"Ben . . . please, just listen . . ."

"And if you keep calling me that I might just disobey my orders and kill you early!" In a second his lightsaber was drawn. "Oh yes . . . you fear this, don't you? Every time you see it you're immediately taken back to the day your life was supposed to end." He slowly lowered it again towards his father's trembling wrist, the blade's heat drawing sweat from Han's skin. "It's so easy for me to just press down . . . yes . . . just a few more inches and you'll be without a hand. I could cut off all four limbs and then you'll be even more like my grandfather than you already are."

"Son . . ."

"I'M NOT YOUR SON!" Ben screamed, turning the lightsaber around and flicking one of the side extensions up Han's arm, leaving a piercing, burning cut, making Han raspily cry out in pain.

"Yes, scream!" said Ben. "No one could hear you even if they were around."

"B-B-Ben . . ."

It was the only word Han could utter as he gazed up into his son's hateful eyes, looking for some trace of regret, some sign that his little Ben was still there . . .

"What's that?" Ben asked. "Is that a tear?"

Only now did Han feel the warm tears emitting from his eyes and drizzling down to his ears, and once he became aware of them they came at a greater pace. For several moments neither father nor son said anything. Ben just stared down at his father, watching his tears flow.

Was Han imagining it, or was there a flicker of something other than hatred crossing his son's face?

Whether Han imagined it or not, it vanished within a moment and Ben snarled at his father once more. "Tears can't sway the dark side, Han Solo. Your son is dead."