From a Certain Point of View
Han approached the fourth moon of Yavin on the direct opposite side from where the old Rebel Base had been located. From what he remembered, the moon did not have any type of planetary shield but was only protected surrounding the ancient temples that had served as the makeshift Rebel headquarters. He doubted that an entire planetary defense system had been erected since he had been there last.
After entering the atmosphere without incident and having his hunch proven correct, Han set the Millennium Falcon on a low and slow orbit that had her skimming along the forest tree tops as she approached the ancient temple. He debated on whether or not he should try to land her at a discreet enough distance so as not to be detected by the limited radar capability he figured they had or if he should just approach and let the Falcon's shields and his flying ability take care of whatever resistance, if any, he would encounter.
Two things made his decision easy for him. First was the virtual non-existence of any clearing large enough to set the Falcon down safely and second was Han's aversion to the potential two-day forest hike he would have ahead of him if he landed at that safe of a distance. And if there was a third, it would have been his itchy trigger finger and a general longing for some viable reason to fly his ship in a couple of tight corkscrews.
Han caught sight of the first stone outpost off in the distance jutting out above the tree tops and his fingers curled tightly around the Falcon's control yoke. He had felt something when he had first exited hyperspace and recognized the orange gas giant that was Yavin and then it grew stronger with the sight of the forest moon of Yavin 4. It was an empty, shapeless feeling that he could not put a name to, like trying to remember a word that sits at the back of your mind and refuses to come forward.
Han glanced at a few choice readouts and tried to shake off the persistent sensation. But it was the white stone of the ancient temples that brought the feeling forward violently, as Han recalled Leia's words regarding her visit to the second Death Star. It was a feeling of coming full circle, a sense of reckoning. He pressed his body back into his pilot's seat and worked at forcing himself to relax.
As the Falcon skimmed passed the first outpost, Han noted that it was empty of any guards and as more cropped into Han's view he found them all similarly deserted. With the large temples rising in the distance, Han began to scout out the clearings that were beginning to present themselves, like open arms from an old friend or a snide invitation from an unknown enemy.
By the time Han had chosen a clearing and the Falcon was lowering to the forest floor by the power of her repulsorlifts, there was a crowd of over a dozen sentient beings standing in a semicircle and patiently watching his approach. They were a myriad of species, male and female, old and young and if they were armed, their weapons were not at the ready.
Han set the Falcon down and performed her shutdown sequence without any haste of movement. When he was done, he stood and leaned over to look out of the viewport. There was no one in plain sight, only the dense forest of trees stood at attention in the distance. Not a single leaf shuddered in recognition of his presence, the air was so thick that Han could almost see the moisture suspended like a curtain of frozen rain. He walked to the nav panel and flipped the exterior cams to life and found his welcome committee.
Most of the older beings were standing near the boarding ramp while some of the younger ones were exploring under the Falcon's hull. He noted that every single one of the older ones was sporting a lightsaber, but none were drawn. Absent was any familiar face, neither Chewie nor Leia were present. They held themselves at ease, with the casualness of someone who did not mind waiting forever. His presence did not seem as either a surprise or an expectation, but just something that was.
Han shut the cams down and checked his blaster. Switching it to 'stun' he holstered it and did the same with his two holdouts. He thought of Leia, it was a blinding, white flash of a thought and it was a stab of anxiety, a fear that she might not be here and that he would find himself staring at the vast enormity of his space charts searching for her yet again. Shaking it off, he turned towards the exit, walked through the corridors of the Falcon and lowered her gangway.
The musky, forest scent of the thick Yavin air hit his lungs like water and the catalog of memories from his last visit here sprung to life like a showgirl at curtain call. There was the young princess, dressed all in white and greeted by everyone as if she were a ghost. There were the desperate plans which he listened to with a cocky indifference. There was Luke's goodbye on the bustling hangar floor. And then there was a medal being draped around his neck and a different kind of pressure urging him to run. And then there was now, and the two moments met as if nothing had happened in between and the man that had escaped from this place as fast as he could, walked slowly down the ramp to the ground below as if towards everything he had left behind.
The first face he saw was that of a young boy, wide-eyed and leaning his head down and over so as to catch sight of Han first thing. The boy looked to be about ten years old with dark hair and wide, dark eyes. His skin has the olive-tanned color native to the peoples of a hot, bright, desert planet and the overcast hue of the tropical Yavin atmosphere seemed to clash with his appearance.
He was dressed in the robes of a Jedi, like those Obi-Wan Kenobi had worn, around his waist was a sash cinched tightly but noticeably empty of the traditional Jedi weapon that would normally be hitched there. As Han glanced around he saw all the others were dressed similarly, some with lightsabers and some without. He took a quick inventory of those that were armed, of the men and of any species known for their natural, brute strength.
"Wow! Is this really the Millennium Falcon?" The young boy asked as Han walked slowly down the lowered ramp.
Han kept his eyes on the elders who seemed content to wait for him to answer the boy's question. By his count there were at least ten armed Jedi. Three were male humans, four female humans and the rest mixed species, including a Barabel and Devorian that warranted respect even without wielding any weapon of any kind. The rest, four or five counting the young boy who spoke, were unarmed younglings. One was a Wookiee who looked not much older than Chewie's son, Lumpy – also a force to be reckoned with even unarmed and at that age.
Han stepped onto the forest floor of Yavin and turned his attention to the boy. "Yes it is. Have you heard of her?"
"Have I!" The boy answered as he looked up at the underbelly of the ship in a renewed awe. "I studied all about the Rebellion against the Empire and the battle that took place right above this very moon! Can I go inside?"
Two of the male Jedi took a few steps forward.
Han looked at the boy. "I don't think that's such a good idea right now."
"Later then? Do you promise?"
"Zacari," one of the male Jedi said firmly.
The young boy turned and looked at his elder, his spine straightening automatically and his youthfulness draining from his demeanor.
"I'll see what I can do, kid," Han murmured as he entered the code that would shut the Falcon and lock her tightly.
"I apologize for my young charge's excitement," the man spoke over the sound of the Falcon's gangway rising. "We are not used to…unannounced visitors and now to have one with a modicum of notoriety seems to have been too much for him to remember himself."
As the man spoke, Han watched the boy walk to stand in front of him facing Han and accepting the man's hands onto his shoulders. The man was tall and of a solid build, the kind of man that people think twice about starting trouble with judging on his size alone because his face was gentle, open and trusting. He had thick, dark curls of hair piled on top of his head, a large nose and small green eyes. His mouth was small but he spoke with a smile.
"It's alright. No harm done," Han answered, looking directly at the elder man, still unsure of the exact nature of his welcome committee.
"To what do we owe this unexpected visit? Engine trouble, perhaps?" The man inquired as he tilted his head up and surveyed the battered hull of the Millennium Falcon questioningly.
Han was unsure how much of his true purpose he should reveal, especially without having seen or spoken to Chewie yet. "Something like that, yeah," he replied, biting back on the defensive reply he would usually fling at anyone who took pot shots at his ship. "I don't suppose you have any spare parts around here?"
"Spare parts?" The older man repeated questioningly. "We may have some such items, we do have transports that land here frequently." The man took a cautious glance around the circle of his comrades and then added, "We thought perhaps you were more likely searching for an old friend."
Han stopped short of responding right away. Chewie had tested under a false name and they had agreed to keep his identity secret for as long as necessary and possible. Unsure who the man was referring to, Han answered evasively, "That depends. Will I find any old friends here?"
The elder Jedi let out a rush of breath that resembled a chuckle, his small mouth spread into a smile, revealing his teeth for the first time. "I guess there's only one way to find out. You've landed during our evening meal time, would you care to join us and perhaps afterward we can search for both your…spare parts and any old friends you might have here?"
"Lead the way," Han replied with a sweep of his arm toward the temples in the distance.
The man stood motionless for a moment while Han let his arm drop down to his side. Then holding his own arm out, his hand extended to Han, the man said, "My name is Seth."
"Right," Han said sheepishly, shaking the man's hand. "Han Solo."
Seth began to introduce Han's welcome committee starting with the youngling, Zacari. The other man that had approached with Seth was Orren, the Barabel was named Tivian and the Devorian, Jomo. There was a set of female twins, humanoids that said hello to Han in unison, their names were Meisha and Shanel and they looked like any number of cocktail waitresses that Han had met in his past.
The Wookiee was called Tanraawuk, but Han did not recognize that particular tribe name and he was told that he answered to Tan for short. There was a young man named Tae and a girl younger than Zacari, named Sibil. Han lost track of the remaining names; there were three or four more children introduced.
As they walked back towards the temple ruins, a few members walked ahead, many strolled along behind, but Han was flanked on either side by the two elder gentlemen, Orren and Seth.
"You guys don't have any sentinels in place?" Han observed as they passed under an empty outpost.
"It is impossible to enter this atmosphere without being sensed…by other means," Orren offered.
"We felt your presence three and half timeparts ago," Seth added as if to add weight to his friend's assertion.
"I've climbed up in one of those," Zacari interjected as he pointed up to the outpost and wriggled in between Han and Orren.
"Is that right?" Han asked with a smile as he ruffled the young boy's hair.
"It isn't very scary," he assured Han quite seriously.
"That's good to know," Han replied.
They approached the yawing mouth of the ancient temple, its steps and parapets devoid of any signs of life. Han saw the ghost of the girl arriving on a hover car.
"Everyone must be at the dining hall already, we should go there directly," Seth stated, his pace quickening slightly.
Han walked the familiar path up the steps and down the long corridor toward the massive dining hall. Upon entering, he found that not much had changed in the years he had been gone. Long tables were scattered throughout the massive hall with groups of beings seated around each. The droning hum of conversation ground to halt as the group entered and Han's eyes scanned each face looking back at him, searching for one particular pair of eyes.
Instinctively, his glance went to the table at the head of the room where High Command had sat back when this was a Rebel Base. His eyes stopped on a familiar figure.
The first thing he noticed about her was her hair. It was cut short, the edges rounded under hugging her chin on one side of her face and tucked neatly behind her ear on the other. Her face healthy and plump, she looked more like the girl he remembered the last time he saw her on this planet. Her eyes were waiting for him when he found her, they were serious, somehow they seemed more mature and guarded.
Sitting at the head table, she wore a black tunic that crawled halfway up her neck, its long sleeves left only her hands and her face exposed. She was poised, as if she had sent him an engraved invitation and she had the table set and waiting for him. Her lips were a line, neither a smile nor a frown and her eyes watched him intently as if he were the only person on the planet.
The second person he recognized was seated to Leia's left. It was Roman.
"You can sit with me, there are empty spots at my table."
Zacari was pulling on Han's arm and the remaining members of his welcome committee dispersed silently throughout the room, filling empty chairs like raindrops finding the nearest puddle. The hum of conversation perked back to life. Han's eyes scanned the room for Chewie, but could not find him. The three seats at Leia's table that had been vacant were surreptitiously filled by Orren, Seth and Tivian.
Finally succumbing to the child's insistent tugging, Han followed Zacari to a table in the back of the room. Not very much unlike his days as an un-enlisted soldier in her Rebellion, Han found the younglings table uncomfortably familiar.
Han sat at his table watching her, she had not looked at him again. He was also able to spot Chewie at a table in the middle of the room. The two exchanged a quick glance, acknowledging that they had found each other but no more. Han's stomach felt as if he had swallowed burning embers and he was unable to eat any of his food. He drank the pale, red punch that was served at the youngling's table in a quest to drench the fire that threatened to consume him.
Han couldn't decide what was worse, the months that lay behind him when he had no idea where she was or now, this moment, with her sitting in the same room with him yet still out of his reach. He thought he knew all this time what he had wanted to say to her, but now he felt sure that he had lost the ability to not only form words but to string a set of words together that would make any kind of sense, much less convey what he was feeling.
Several of the younglings, including Zacari, were asking him questions and he answered them absently. It seemed to Han that most everyone had finished eating, although he had not touched his plate. The muscles in his legs twitched as he fought back on the urge to stand and approach her. But he waited.
Roman was the first to stand up and Han watched as he walked behind Leia's chair and pulled it out for her. Leia rose to her feet and the sight that was revealed to him caused the simmering fire inside of him to erupt, violently. The old wounds under his fingernails burned as if flames were shooting out from the tips of his fingers. He gripped the edge of the table as it felt like the entire moon had tilted on its axis and he would slide right off into space if he let go.
He wanted to blink his eyes to convince himself that what he was seeing was real or perhaps not real, but he found that he had lost all control of his body. The blood drained from his scalp down into his toes leaving a cool burst of perspiration bubbling out of every pore in its path. He swallowed, it being the only muscular function currently available to him.
At the front of the room, Leia stood, the black tunic that had crawled up her neck and down her slender arms hugged her body snugly down her torso, revealing a large, swollen belly.