House and Home

By Justine Graham and Erin Darroch

Home was certainly not the first word that came to Han Solo's mind when he finally reached the address Leia had given him and looked up at the ultra-modern chromium and glassine façade of the high-rise apartment building overlooking Lumelemi Harbor. The crowded environs of downtown Hanna City were even more tightly congested near the Silver Sea, and Leia's new official residence was perched right on the edge of the busy harbor, within sight of the ocean. The mixed residential and business district had long ago been pedestrianized, so Han had been forced to leave his rented speeder in the nearest available docking station almost half a kilometer away, and then to cover the rest of the distance on foot.

After wending his way through narrow, paved chasms between tall buildings, and then along a lushly landscaped pedestrian thoroughfare that stretched between the districts, he'd finally emerged onto the broad and bustling boardwalk that separated the towering high-rises from the water. Stopping for a moment at the head of the footpath, Han regarded the multi-story structure with a calculating eye. Craning his neck back and shielding his eyes from the glare of the reflected late-afternoon sun, he allowed his gaze to track straight up to the top and back again, counting the floors. He grimaced; the apartment allocated to Leia was on the ninth level, just above the midway point, meaning their options for escape, if it ever came to that, would be sorely limited. Too high to permit a safe jump from a balcony or window, the apartment would also be too low to allow for a mid-air extraction on anything larger than a two-seater airspeeder. Casting his gaze around the congested cityscape, Han wondered fleetingly how tricky it would be for him to get the Millennium Falcon into position above the roof, and how long it would take the local authorities to turn up if he decided to find out.

Suddenly conscious of the rather darkly pessimistic path his thoughts had taken, Han gave a rueful shake of his head. Old habits die hard, he mused, shrugging to himself as he stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic and crossed over to lean against the railing at the edge of the wide harbor. The smell of the salt sea rose sharply on the breeze drifting off the water, where myriad watercraft plied the grey-blue depths of the bustling port. In all likelihood, Han knew, the biggest threat they would face here would be from the galactic gossip reporters, or simply the prying eyes of curious neighbors, intent on catching a glimpse of the last Princess of Alderaan and her soon-to-be live-in Corellian companion. Still, he allowed privately, the war wasn't quite over. There were plenty of Imperialists still roaming the galaxy, and some of themcould be lurking here on Chandrila. Dropping his hand down to his thigh, he ran his thumb over the grip of his blaster, reassuring himself that though he lacked a ship within easy reach, he could still shoot his way out of any tricky situations, if necessary. He wasn't prepared to let down his guard just yet.

Feeling an uneasy itch between his shoulder blades as those thoughts crossed his mind, Han turned his back on the water, leaned casually against the railing and cast an appraising look in both directions. Though he hadn't thought it possible, the boardwalk was even busier than it had been five minutes ago, now thronged as it was with business types leaving work. Flooding out of the high-rise office buildings that lined the quay, they joined the flow of blue-skinned Pantorans and humans of every hue, size and shape, along with a dozen other species from around the galaxy. There were even a few droids that trundled or whirred along the thoroughfare in both directions. Although there were no obvious threats in sight, to Han the entire scene felt a little surreal. Countless worlds still remained within the choking grip of Imperial rule, and millions of lives were still governed by oppression and controlled by fear. Coruscant, for one, was presently in the midst of a bloody civil war that saw its citizens fighting one another in the streets as both Imperial and Alliance forces converged there in a desperate battle for supremacy. But here, in this halcyon setting, it was easy to forget about all of that for a while. In this little corner of the galaxy, everything seemed peaceful and domestic—almost idyllic. Han watched for a moment longer, noting how the locals out for exercise or walking their pets mingled with young couples strolling hand-in-hand, and families corralling their young.

Han blinked. Now that was an element of everyday life he certainly wasn't used to, and hadn't truly considered up until now: children. They were everywhere on the boardwalk, boisterously running, jumping, yelling—so much yelling. The youngest kids seemed fascinated by the flocks of bulabirds that called loudly and circled overhead. The children ducked and squealed with delight as the birds dived down to capture bits of food tossed to them, and chased after the ones that ambled along the boardwalk with their peculiar bobbing gait. Ordinarily, when a small screeching creature ran towards Han with its mouth wide open and its limbs flailing, his first instinct was to blast it. He decided he'd better get a handle on that particular reflex, and fast.

Glancing back up at the glossy apartment building, Han released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. So, this was it: his first planetside home since he'd left Corellia at age sixteen. That thought produced a peculiar little flutter somewhere deep in his gut, a strangely familiar blend of nervousness and eager anticipation that was not unlike the feeling he used to get when he was younger and first ventured into new and interesting corners of the galaxy. Although the apartment had been officially allocated to Leia alone—her role in the newly established Provisional Senate required her to reside within easy commuting distance of the Senate Building on Eleutherian Plaza—she'd immediately granted Han equal access, astutely pointing out that he was unlikely to take up the offer of a bunk in the officers' quarters along the quay, and she most certainly wasn't planning to trek to the spaceport every night to sleep aboard the Falcon; so, logistically, it made sense that they would share this place.

Han couldn't suppress a faint smile at the idea of moving in with Leia, setting up a cozy household, and sharing a life together. It was so far outside his experience that it seemed like something from a sappy holodrama; one of those drippy, happily-ever-after programs that Chewie liked to watch. When Leia had first offered Han access to the apartment, he'd teased her a little about trying to domesticate him. Indeed, there had been a time, not that long ago, when the mere suggestion of him remaining in one spot—or, even worse, putting down roots—would have sent Han heading for open skies without a backward glance. Now, he was surprised by just how much he wanted their constant state of flux to be over.

Despite his initial misgivings, he'd swiftly decided that, after all they'd been through together, he wasn't going to let the minor threat of domestication put him off, even if the reality of their current situations meant they wouldn't be able to enjoy the new arrangement for some time to come. Although both he and Leia had responsibilities to uphold as part of the Alliance's continuing efforts to beat back the surviving Grand Admirals from the Core, things were, much to Han's amazed relief, actually beginning to settle down. Virtually everyone they'd been running and hiding from for the past few years was either dead or in full retreat, and even Han's next official mission for the Alliance seemed a bit routine, a more-or-less conventional routing of a small Imperial outpost on Galantos. After that, he'd be long overdue a month's furlough, the first such break since Endor. The personnel under his command would no doubt use the time to return to their homeworlds to visit family and friends they hadn't seen in years, Chewie would head to Kashyyyk to spend time with his wife and son, and Han...well, Han would return here, to Leia.

Home.

He realized with a sudden sense of clarity and deep conviction how much he wanted this with Leia; he wanted it badly, as much as he'd ever wanted anything in his life. She made him feel desired and loved in a way he had never experienced before—had never dared imagine he would feel—and the intensity with which he longed to return that feeling of sanctuarywas powerful enough to raise a choking lump in his throat. He couldn't envision taking this step with anyone but Leia, and although the idea of setting up a permanent household seemed almost as alien an endeavor as flying blind through an uncharted star system, setting up a permanent household with his spirited princess somehow felt just right.

Han gave the structure one last appraising glance. This imposing piece of modern architectural design represented more than just a place to live, he realized; this was his future, looming large and unfamiliar, but bright and shining all the same. He pushed off the rail and headed towards it.

The End