Han was three when Chewbacca made his decision. Malla hated and dreaded it, but she could not deny the necessity for it. Jowdrrl said goodbye to his little playmate sadly. The whole village gathered to say goodbye, almost suffocating the tiny boy in huge, furry hugs and nearly deafening him with their farewell moans.
Chewbacca turned as Malla tugged his shoulder. *if you can't find his family, will you bring him back?*
*I have to find his family, Malla. We can't raise him as a Wookie*
She pulled more insistently. *I…we can move to Okikuti ourselves, save up, take him on long trips through the galaxies, teach him the Basic language!*
Chewbacca chose to ignore the fact that Wookies can't even speak Basic. But his eyes softened as he looked at her. *you love him that much, don't you?*
*I do! I do! He has fire in his eyes, and such a bright smile, and eyes like the sky! He is so small and weak, yet so brave and strong. He is the equal of any of our Wookie cubs, despite his tiny form! He is a cub I would be proud of. I love him.*
Chewbacca smiled, feeling something swell in his heart. Her words had released many of his own feelings for Han, feelings he had never tried to come to terms with or describe. Perhaps females were better at that sort of thing. He barked sharply, and Han extricated himself from the Wookie group and came running. Chewbacca picked him up and held him towards Malla. *If I cannot find his family, I will bring him back.* He said quietly. *He is our cub.*
Emboldened by his words, Malla reached out to stroke Han. *I love him.* Han smiled at her touch. Then, to both the Wookies' surprise, she reached over and touched Chewbacca's cheek. *I love you, too.* She woofed softly. They stared at each other.
Han wrinkled his brow at both of them. From his vantage of height in Chewbacca's arms, he put a hand on his head, *Grraar* (Daddy) he intoned almost majestically, then put his other hand on Malla's head, *Mrraar* (Mommy) he ended. They stood together, two Wookies looking into each other's eyes, with a human cub's hands joining them together.
They both leaned towards each other impetuously, touching noses. Just as suddenly, Jowdrrl broke the moment. *I told you, she likes you. Three cheers for our new life mates!* he barked. The village roared together in a huge wave of triumphant, echoing sound. Having been raised around it and knowing what it meant, Han threw back his own head and screamed, a high pitched note against the low, rumbling tones.
Chewbacca smiled at Malla. She smiled at him. They raised their heads and joined in.
SWSWSWSWSW
It was a long, dangerous journey, full of stress. Stress because Chewbacca was ever afraid Han would, through his ceaseless wriggling, work loose from the carrier and fall out to his death as Chewbacca climbed, or that, while they slept during the night, some predator might come and drag Han off before he was aware. Also, Chewbacca looked impatiently forward to the time when he could return to the village and claim Malla for his own. Finally, the Wookie had a deep fear someone would claim Han.
His intentions were pure, and he knew that to be among his own was best for the boy, but that idea was no balm to his heart, his stupid heart that loved Han and wanted him to stay forever on Kashyyyk with him and Malla.
When he finally reached Okikuti, it took some haggling and arguing to get passage aboard a trade cruiser that had finished unloading its technician supplies and engine gears. The captain first noticed the Wookie with the human child on his back when Chewbacca stopped longingly at the crates to finger some tools. He loved all things mechanical, and whenever he came to Okikuti, he would partake in any project available that involved building and powering up anything from space ships to swoop bikes.
The captain gave his holopad to a subordinate and came over. "Hey you!"
Chewbacca wheeled around and barked in greeting. *Hello?*
The man laughed at the Wookie's anxious expression. "Nah, don't worry. I know Shyriiwook. No way in a Hut's Diet am I gonna deal on Wookie Planet, with Wookies, without being able to speak Wookietalk." His skin was a light tinge of brown and slightly mottled around the neck. His hair was black, but his eyes were a striking green save where a mechanical implant covered the left one, its lenses shining out red.
Fascinated by his first good look at a human being, Han gaped over Chewbacca's shoulder. The captain noticed his gaze and laughed. "What's this? Who's the mother?"
Chewbacca growled menacingly. *If you understand Shyriiwook, then understand not to speak thus of this human cub or myself. I found him in the wilderness and raised him for two years. I am trying to get to Corellia, where I may perhaps find his family.*
The Captain lifted up his hands appealingly. "I got it. Cut the phobium. Sorry. You must be one of those backwoods Wookies who can't take a joke. But I don't mind. In fact, I'm more interested in your strength…you know anything about mechanics?"
*More than many of my people, yes.* Chewbacca said reluctantly, still rankled by what the man had said.
"Good! I'll give you passage to Alderaan if you'll sign aboard as handyman and engineer's assistant. The barve I hired previously got drunk and picked a fight with a Wookie. He's missing an arm and now a passage home." His face turned dark. Chewbacca did not like that face. But the shadow was wiped away quickly as the man looked up again. "Anyway, you can easily get passage from Alderaan to Corellia. Whaddya say?"
Chewbacca cocked his head to one side, considering the idea. Than he barked in agreement.
The man grinned. "Sweet! I'm captain Stue, by the way. Captain Gary Stue." He extended a hand missing the tip of its pinkie. Chewbacca hesitated, and then took the hand in his huge paw.
SWSWSWSWSW
Chewbacca growled angrily as Han stuck his head too close to the hydro dip, where the super coolant trickled down, clear and white. Han jerked back at the sound of his voice, nearly backing into the other assistant, Greb.
Greb was yet another new being that Han had latched onto with fascinated obsession. Greb was new, completely different with his three eyes and scaly skin and the long tail he kept tied in a strap around his forehead. He had a huge nose and a very friendly grin. Of course, the fact that he sparkled like a color hologram might have contributed to his mesmerizing appearance.
Chewbacca himself found it rather annoying and grating on his acute senses. Greb knew this and apologetically tried to keep out of his sight. But in an engine room that was virtually impossible. Chewbacca was grateful for the extra effort, however, and tried to get used to the nauseating color display.
Han, however, with all the oddity of his race, adored it. He held out his little hands and watched the colors playing on his hands, pretending he himself was a sparkling man. Greb responded to the unabashed adoration, as all others who met Han seemed to do. He adored Han. However, he also shared Chewbacca's concern over Han's penchant to push the extremes beyond safety limits. He reached into a pocket and handed Han a mostly clean wrench. Han sat on the floor and began pounding the ground with it. Chewbacca growled, and Han pounded softly.
Greb wiped his hands on a cloth and pulled some levers, hearing the hiss of steam and clanging farther back in the room. He had been rather helpful in putting together some real clothes for Han, not the rags he had been comfortable in before. Chewbacca, much as he understood the need for coverings on a tiny, naked baby, but he wasn't very skilled at putting it together properly. Greb was a skilled tailor, often mending the crewmen's clothes for an extra fee. Han now had a handsome pair of green pants and shirt, with Greb taking the idea from the long outgrown baby robe Chewbacca had shown him.
"Yep, green is the color of Corellia, Chewbacca." Greb crossed his legs and flipped through his material. "Nice, dark green perhaps, that rests the eyes a little."
Chewbacca woofed in agreement and pulled Han back into his lap.
Greb looked up as he took out some scissors. "No charge for the clothes, by the way. Han's been a good little buddy to me on this trip, and I hope he finds his family." As he spoke, he looked carefully at the Wookie and saw his head droop, while a sad sound rumbled from his chest. Greb frowned. "Or maybe he's already got his family?"
Chewbacca looked up suddenly. *I'd rather not talk about it.*
Greb shrugged. "Suit yourself. But remember, Chewbacca, its love, not bloodlines, that make a family. Seems to me his family would have tried to find him by now, probably on Kashyyyk, if they really cared. Seems to me you've given Han all the love he needs for a family."
Chewbacca felt the words smash into his heart, awakening dark ripples of doubt and regret, ripples he thought he had stilled forever. He felt cold all over as he felt Han twisting in his arms. He nearly lost it when the boy looked up at him with blue eyes and smile, so big and trusting and loving. *Grraar*(Daddy), Han growled affectionately.
And to Chewbacca's shock and surprise, the Shyriiwook sounded so beautiful and right coming off his cub's tongue.
SWSWSWSWSW
Chewbacca marched through the busy, loud streets of Coruscant. Speeders and transports zoomed overhead while aliens of all kinds swarmed around him, and an overwhelming wave of music and smells and languages assaulted his senses. It was so, so different from Kashyyyk, where everything was a part of his life, and so familiar. Here, the crowd swept by him so fast he felt it safe to keep Han in the carrier, even though Han could walk quite well by now.
He read the signs and thought as he wandered. Where to find a missing family? Stopping by some city holo-maps, he quickly found a route to the Children's Center in Quadrant 6 of the Corellian Capitol.
It was not a friendly looking place, with tall, smooth durasteel walls and a door of glass with two home guards standing on either side. The Wookie felt more and more nervous as he stepped inside. The invasive smell of chemicals and soap and medicine choked him. Han thought so too, and buried his nose in Chewbacca's neck with a mutter.
The man at the steel desk ahead looked up and seemed somewhat disgusted and impatient with the huge, furry biped. "What do you want?" He asked stiffly. A translation droid trundled up behind him and spurted out the question in Shyriiwook. But every sound was hard and harsh and metallic, not soft and rumbling and lilting. It seemed almost like a blasphemy to hear his native language spoken in that way. Chewbacca growled an answer. *I am looking for a family who lost their newborn son around two years ago*
The man raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You are asking me to go through our records and see who lost…listen, Wookie. Do you know how many billions of babies are lost, killed, or abandoned every year on Corellia? Why have you just brought the baby to us?"
*His name is Han.* Chewbacca felt a little irritated at them calling his strong, fast-growing cub a 'baby'. *He was in a Corellian CR90 Corvette that was shot down in a battle over Kashyyyk. There was a dead man inside the escape pod who gave his life to keep the child safe*
The man shrugged. "Probably the father."
Chewbacca reached into his pouch and pulled the baby clothes he had found Han in. *I do not thinks so. Han was wearing this. It is a rich cloth from a rich family. And this.* he pulled out the wooden medallion.
The man started to look interested. He reached forward and examined the medallion. "I have seen this design before." He admitted. Suddenly dismissive, he shoved it back. "In my kreffin history books. Corellia used to be a monarchy. Who knows what lords' family bred that boy you raised? I have no time to go searching through the crumbling remains of our proud planet's dead aristocracy."
He looked up as Chewbacca gathered the medal and gown with a disappointed, irritated air. The man gestured placatingly. "Hey, Wookie, if you want you can enter in a form and our orphanages can find a spot for Henry…what was his name?"
*Han.* The Wookie growled dangerously, stuffing the things back in his pouch. *And if this is how Corellia treats its cubs, I can see why he was lost.*
He twisted around angrily and stormed out, resisting the urge to deliver a devastating punch to the unrelenting, cold, unsympathetic walls. He was mad. How could anyone abandon a child like this? Why would they not even try? How could anyone see his Han's smile and not want to help? Could people in the world really be so cold…so selfish?
A small, unrelenting joy bubble inside him, but he immediately, almost guilty crushed it down. No, he should not hope…even if Han was allowed to stay with him…it would not be easy.
He stopped to pull a piece of bread out of his belt and push it to Han, who had started pulling at his head hair unceasingly, asking for food. Han took the bread, but instead of laying into it as was his custom, he leaned his head against Chewbacca's and began to grunt and growl some endearing baby words in Shyriiwook. Chewbacca woofed comfortingly to him, getting the gist of the message. Han was tired of the trip. Han wanted to go home to Malla and Jowdrrl and the treetops. Chewbacca explained they still had farther to go. Han kicked irritatedly; if they couldn't go home, then he at least wanted to get down and stretch his legs.
Chewbacca hesitated. But the crowds had lessened considerably and evening had come on, with the starry sky above peeking through the clouds. Somewhere, Malla was looking at stars just like those, wondering which of them her Han and Chewbacca were on, and when they would come home. Chewbacca felt something tighten in his chest, and he moaned softly to the sky. People barely stopped to give him a glance; you saw a lot of weird stuff on the streets.
Chewbacca untied the straps and lowered Han easily. The boy ran a few steps before Chewbacca's long arms grabbed him and lifted him back with a remonstrating growl, clasping the tiny hand firmly in his paw before they started walking again.
Han bit into the delicious, warm wastril bread, relishing the taste and smell as it brought him back again to the fireside and his big, furry family there. He missed them, especially Malla and Jowdrrl and Rowrakruk, that cub he had just begun to strike up a good friendship with. There, there were friendly faces and good smells and the beautiful world to look at. Here, there were strangely shaped beings, almost hiding in the shadows, covering their faces as they walked furtively. There was a bad smell in the air, something utterly unnatural that made him want to cough. But at least he still had his Daddy with him, he reconsidered, looking up at the tall yet utterly familiar figure. His Daddy would protect him, just as he always had.
As he looked at Chewbacca's head, his eyes were drawn even farther up towards something. The stars. Tiny, white, and bright, so beautiful and sparkling against the purplish blue sky. Han loved them, ever since he saw them on Kashyyyk when Chewbacca took him to the top of trees to watch them in the evening. He always found himself wishing, not to selfishly pull them down and take them for his own, but to fly, to go up and up and touch each star, to fly and laugh. Did the stars talk and laugh? Were they alive? Did they burn you like the orange fire in the fire pit? He longed to ask Chewbacca, but his words were still so unformed, so young. His heart saw wonders he couldn't even yet express.
He gave a shriek of surprise as something dark and furry ran just in front of him, upsetting his walk. Alerted, Chewbacca lifted gently and immediately, preventing Han from falling on his face. They both peered after the creature, which stopped at a lighted window, flicking its bushy black tail and blinking wide, white eyes at them. A female voice laughed raucously and whistled. The creature sped inside.
Han tugged, wanting to go see it. Chewbacca was firmly against the idea. The place was too noisy and bright and the smells coming from it were non too savory. He might go in alone, but not with a cub.
Suddenly the door slid open and a man reeled out. He whistled at the big Wookie shape. "Chakta sai kae, old man. What are you, anywayz, big guy?" He stumbled forward as Chewbacca hefted Han protectively into his arms, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the whiskey reek. The drunkard put groping hands against the Wookie's furry side. "You…you've got lots of fuur…fuzzy…smell really bad…not as bad as me…" he trailed off into giggles and slumped to the ground.
Chewbacca carefully stepped over him. The man looked up and called, "waait! Friend! Chum! Help me out…will ya? Friend…other friend…bad guy…gonna kill me. Won't kill me if I'm walking with a big, smelly, hairy guy!" He laughed, "Slippery as a greased Dug…won't touch me if you're with me…huh?"
Chewbacca sighed. He was not going to get Han caught up in something like this, and gestured to the boy, hoping the drunk would understand. Of course he didn't. He trembled somehow to a stand and jogged forward, grabbing Chewbacca's elbow. The Wookie stiffened protectively. "Fine…don't walk me home…I'll walk to your home. Where's yer home?"
Chewbacca studied the way the man was swaying. He'd probably collapse before too far. Then Chewbacca could lay him against the wall and move on to find shelter for himself and Han. No doubt the man was used to sleeping in the streets. He grabbed the man's shirt with a grudging growl and strode on.
The man yawned, batting at the paw that held him upright. "Thanks pal…good pal. Good dog."
Chewbacca rolled his eyes.
Han holding his left, the drunk sagging at his right, the Wookie walked on. He finally felt the man go limp and dragged him to a corner where he could sleep. Then he continued. It was a long, somewhat quiet walk back towards the spaceport, where they could perhaps find accommodations.
He realized Han was nearly asleep on his feet when the boy began to gurgle and growl nonsense. He lifted him up in his arms. Han twisted to get more comfortable and buried his face in Chewbacca's chest. *Love you, Chewie. Love you, Grraar*
Chewie grinned, feeling the tension and stress within him subside for a little bit. He tucked Han into his arms carefully. *I love you too, Han.*
*Sing* Han insisted, grinning mischievously.
Chewbacca couldn't help complying. He wanted to sing, it brought him back home, back to Malla and the world he knew, where having Han as his cub was so uncomplicated. Sometimes he forgot why he had actually felt the need to go, what was so important about finding Han's parents.
Greb's words came back to him. "Its love, not bloodlines, that make a family."
He began the song in a woofing pitch that had none of the gargle of his growls or roars. Just a continues, chanting tone that dipped from tenor to base and back again. It wasn't the tune that was important, though the pitches vibrated his chest comfortingly to Han, but the words.
*Wroshyr trees, forest kings, twining root to root. Joined together forever like the love between two hearts. They dip deep in the earth and eat the wisdom of the beginning, we dip with them and find the water of life. Swinging above the Shadow world, where the darkness rages, knowing it cannot reach the light, and we, we are safe! Swinging in the wroshyr branches, on through the trees. We catch the light in our fur and breath the stars. We follow the fire and hunt the lizard, but always we can come home, home to the wroshyr tree.*
There was more, more about love and life and the meaning of the stars, but it was all cut off.
Living in crowded cities on crowded planets full of immorality and capitalism and filth and hopelessness, the people of the universe were on the whole united by only one idea; they hated the way life was. Some were too brave to kill themselves, others were too afraid, and it was the latter that usually went insane or climbed the ladder to higher offices of corruption and oppression of their fellow beings.
The Wookie's singing barks did not disturb anyone. Usually aliens with highly grating voices walked through the planet screeching at the top of their lungs. But somewhere, somehow, out in the darkness and filth and decay, a man had given up. He surrendered to the darkness and let go of his mind. Hearing the song, he detected a note of beauty, of hope, of love that he was bereft of, and he suddenly hated the singer.
Without warning, he was seized with superhuman strength. He reared up from his pile of drugs and bottles and saw the anvil, seated below the window in the moonlight, the one he used to forge credits on.
He leapt up, gritting his teeth with rage, looked down, and saw the singer. The Wookie was walking down the street, cradling something and singing lovingly to it, but the man didn't care. He just wanted the voice to stop reminding him. If he wasn't happy, if he had lost these things, why should others be happy and have them?
He heaved up the anvil, feeling something pop in his back. He got it up and screamed down below, "YOU KREFFIN BARVE! STOP SINGING! STOP IT!" At the very same instant as he called, he shoved the anvil.
It teetered on the edge of the sill, almost as if the wind had suddenly blown in a puny effort to keep it there. It wobbled an instant…
And then tipped.
Chewbacca looked up towards the sound. His eyes widened as he barked in dismay. He tossed Han away and began to move his legs to run…
It was too late.
The heavy metal bounced, shattering the carbon walls and breaking through a ledge of cheap cement before coming down on the Wookie's shoulder.
His rear bruised, Han sat up and could only watch in horror as his friend, his protector, his Daddy, disappeared with a howl of agony into a pile of rubble and stones and wood, crushed by the irritation of an imbalanced stranger.
The smoke settled. Suddenly aware of what he'd done, but only bothered that he might be found out, the man slumped on the window frame and covered his head with his hands.
Han stumbled forward, patting uselessly at the rocks, whining in worry. He barked…no response. *Daddy…daddy!* He reached for the only bit of dark fur he could see…and his hand came back with blood. He whimpered. No sound. Then he threw up his head and screamed at the sky, trying to bring help, to summon his tribe, trying to call the very stars to witness. And then, tired and still so, so small, he bent down and began to sob, shaking and utterly alone.
The man had jumped at the scream. He looked down and nearly lost his dinner at what he saw. An eyewitness. The singer thing's own kreffin child. With shaky hands he stumbled, half fell down the stairs and made his way out into the street. Feverish, his eyes with a wild glint, he smiled waveringly at the oblivious child. He wanted to try to tempt him inside where he could dispose of him quietly. He waggled a finger. "Come…come on…kid…gonna give you something…really sweet, really nice."
Han barely noticed, his voice still rising in quiet sobs.
The man came forward, the fake smile fading from his face and being replaced by something much more predatorial. He lunged. But his entire body was shaking from whatever he had been drinking and inhaling upstairs. His aim was far off, and he fell in a pile, his hands flapping uselessly on the boy's leg. His hands snaked forward and latched onto Han's ankles. Han cried out, suddenly noticing the attacker. He pulled away, but the man held on like iron, slowly and inevitably dragging Han off the pile and towards him.
Han cried out, calling for his Daddy to rise with a powerful roar out of the rocks and put this pitiful enemy to flight, to grab Han and wrap him in powerful, strong, safe arms of warm fur.
No answer.
Realizing how small and weak and alone he was should have terrified the toddler, but another spirit, the same spirit that taught him to dance on thin, perilous branches on the leafy world of Kashyyyk; that spirit brought him strength. It taught him to lunge forward and bite the hand.
The man gave a howl of more surprise than pain, releasing Han and recoiling protectively. Han jumped up and ran, aching inside. He had to find Malla…bring her to heal Daddy, or maybe Jowdrrl would come and make Chewbacca laugh until he opened his eyes again. Someone, somewhere, should be able to do something! Only those of his family with heavy silver fur had ever died…and they always died smiling, surrounded by friends and family. Nothing like the pain and fear and panic in Chewbacca's eyes when he fell. His Daddy couldn't be dead.
Han ran on and on, screaming at the top of his little lungs. No one noticed. Screaming children were not new. He ran on, seeking help that never came, until he fell into an exhausted heap, passing out from sheer exhaustion.
The stars were so beautiful, but so cold and far away, like a million lights gazing helplessly on the collapsed figure on the ground, who kept clutching at his hair, his eyes streaming even in his sleep as he twisted, searching for a warm, furry presence that wasn't there.
**to be continued**