Shoot first. Kill it, if you have to (Time Travel, Han Solo Style)
By Indygodusk
Chapter 6 - Padawans & Wookiees
When Han got to the docking bay for the job Anakin had specified, he discovered that the word rescue had been a typo and that they were looking for a tour guide for a group of Wookies and Trandoshans in the Mid Rim, not a pilot for a hostage rescue. Pinching his nose, Han tipped his head back and tried not to scream. He really was going to shoot that guy one day.
"Hey, pilot, you want job?" asked a humanoid in choppy Basic. They were dressed in navy blue robes and a veil that concealed both their species and identity.
"Maybe," Han said, crossing his arms and feeling surly. "Depends on the job."
"No questions, good pay. You work. Yes?" They gestured to a freighter two slips over. "Must leave now. Pilot fly. Yes?"
Han thought about saying no just to be contrary, but a man had to eat and it wasn't like he had anything better to do. "Pay me twenty percent up front and I'll fly you wherever you want to go."
Placing hands together, the robed figure made a chirping sound and bobbed its knees, making the navy blue robes and veil sway. "Deal. We go. Me Taluriri." The being pointed at its face.
"Han Solo, your new pilot," Han said, holding out his hand.
"Good. Go now." Grabbing his hand, Taluriri towed him to the freighter and had Han set a course for the Mid Rim. They made a few stops along the way for trades that Han was pretty sure weren't legal, but he kept getting paid and the food in the galley was good, so he didn't ask any questions. Taluriri kept to himself and didn't speak to Han much beyond telling him their next destination.
A week later they landed on a picturesque planet he'd never been to before called Mishrik. Taluriri kicked him out of the ship's main hold and locked the doors, so Han decided to go out and stretch his legs while doing a little sightseeing. Luke would've loved the waterfalls, Chewie the forests, and Leia the bright yellow birds singing their hearts out in the trees.
When he got back to the ship later that day, he saw Taluriri being led out in chains and the ship swarming with the local security forces. Pivoting on his heel and putting his head down, Han left the area quickly and hopped on the first ship willing to take him elsewhere.
Han drifted from job to job as the galaxy fell deeper and deeper into war. Anakin showed up regularly to nudge Han toward this or that job or planet. Unlike that first trick on Coruscant, the jobs were all real, though Anakin rarely explained why Han should take them before disappearing again. The ghost also seemed to have trouble keeping track of time, promising to return in an hour and not showing up until days or even weeks later.
In a show of remarkable restraint, Han had only tried to shoot him four times. The shots never hit, but just trying made him feel better. Han was determined to hit him at least once before he died (again).
Although Han had been a General in the Rebellion, the kind of large-scale fighting between the clone and droid armies was very different from how they'd run battles in his time. They hadn't had the budget or the men for long-term sieges or massive orbital assaults like the ones reported in the news. That being said, some of the tactics taken by Republic forces in the Clone Wars made no sense to Han. Republic Forces had lost more soldiers and ships in just the last six months of the war than the Rebel Alliance had the entire time Han had fought with them. It was like the Republic was more interested in preserving some internal agenda than in actually winning decisively, though the Separatists could be accused of the same.
Sometimes Han wondered if both sides of the war weren't being run by the same man, but that was probably just his paranoia talking. Palpatine couldn't be that powerful yet or he'd have already declared his Empire. Han didn't understand what game Palpatine was playing beyond using the war as a power grab (especially since Anakin refused to stop and explain what he knew), but then again Han was just a simple smuggler. Luckily he didn't have to understand all of the pieces. He just had to kill the guy.
Leia had often spoken of the time of the Republic as a golden era, but that was only in contrast to growing up in the Empire. The rampant corruption in the Republic government and the apathy of its citizens about getting involved in the war effort or caring about the massive casualties among clone troopers would've enraged and saddened her. Nobody really liked or trusted most of the Jedi either, even though they were running the war at the behest of the Senate. Maybe it was because they were running the war or because they were just so different with their Force powers. Han wouldn't have liked the Jedi either if he hadn't personally known Luke. Even knowing Luke, he still didn't like or trust the Force very much. It certainly hadn't brought anything but pain to his life.
(Han pushed down and ignored the little voice trying to point out all of the times the Force had done good or saved him and those he loved, and that he'd be dead ten times over and still dead now without the Force's help. He wasn't interested in being rational or nice about it.)
No, Han wasn't surprised by people in this time. Unless it was their planet, family, or wallet being attacked, people always preferred to pretend it was someone else's problem. Most people were lazy, selfish, and too scarred by the cruelties of life to care.
It was rare to have a heart both tender and strong. The galaxy had broken the mold when it made Luke and Leia Skywalker. Han still hadn't figured out how his favorite people had come from a man like Anakin. Unfortunately, he had come to see the resemblance to Ben, which was awful because then he sometimes noticed not just the bad things about Anakin but the good things too. Han had no interest in seeing Anakin in a good light.
He really was going to shoot that guy someday. Something had to be able to hurt a ghost. He was going to figure it out and then Anakin would be sorry and Han would never have to deal with him again.
After over a year in the past, he'd finally run into the younger and still-living legend himself. Well, images of him at least. A war propaganda reel featuring Jedi Generals Skywalker and Kenobi as heroes in the Outer Rim sieges started playing everywhere Han went. They had some cool Force tricks, but it wasn't anything Han hadn't seen Luke do a dozen times or more. It was weird to see Kenobi with color in his hair and youthful vigor, not to mention Anakin looking so baby-faced and earnest without the faint blue glow, though Anakin still had the same cocky arrogance.
Unfortunately for Han, the newsreel proved popular. More videos featuring Anakin 'Hero-with-no-fear' Skywalker kept popping up everywhere he went even weeks later out in the Mid Rim. It was giving him a headache.
Han was just trying to eat his lunch when another one started playing on the main screen of the cafe. A gaggle of mixed-species girls at the table next to him started squealing and gushing over how dreamy Skywalker looked. Han almost threw up in his mouth.
"I forgot I had so many fans," Anakin said as he appeared unexpectedly, leaning on the seatback next to Han and watching the girls with an amused little grin.
Han threw the fried tuber in his hand back onto his plate, no longer hungry. "What do you want?"
Grin disappearing, Anakin wrapped his hands around the seat and met Han's eyes seriously. "You have to take the next job offer. I had the date wrong before. Don't make her wait. It's important. Help her if you can. She probably doesn't need it, but even so…help her."
"Help who?"
Raucous laughter from the table of girls drowned out the sound of Anakin's answer.
"What?" Han asked. "Her who? Not Shmi again, I hope?"
"No, not Mom." Anakin's expression softened. "She's doing well."
"Then who?"
One of the girls with black braids jumped up from her table. "You can have Skywalker," she said loudly, pressing her hands together beneath her chin. "I want a man with experience. I'd love to get Kenobi alone in a closet and muss up his hair."
"That's so gross." Looking like an offended tooka whose tail had just been stepped on, Anakin's head went back. "My master would never!"
The other girls joined in with giggles. "Oh, me too!" squealed a human girl covered in freckles. "I'd take them both." She licked her lips and hummed, prompting more laughter.
"Oh yeah, I'd get Kenobi in a closet and peel him out of those robes and—"
As the comments got more lurid, Anakin made a gagging noise and abruptly disappeared. Han couldn't take it anymore either. Standing up, he abandoned his food and left.
"Solo!" Called a voice from down the street.
Turning around with a hand on his blaster, Han saw a familiar Zabrak bounty hunter approaching. "Sugi," he greeted with a friendly nod, though he didn't move his hand away from his belt.
They'd worked several jobs together in the past, but she'd always worn a cheap gray jumpsuit for a uniform, blending in instead of standing out. It looked like she'd abandoned that strategy. Now Sugi wore armored gauntlets below puffed white sleeves with red stripes the same shade as the facial markings on the zabrak's pale forehead and cheeks. Over the white shirt she'd layered a short-sleeved dark brown top with a high neckline and a scoop-necked burgundy vest tucked into a wide brown leather belt and pants. She'd also slicked back the stripe of her purple hair into a T-shaped bun rising above her head and over her yellowed horns.
She must've taken the bribe money they'd liberated from Palpatine's stash and invested it in her wardrobe along with her guns and ship. The change meant she was moving up in the world and getting ambitious, which could be good or bad for Han depending on what she wanted with him. At least he didn't have a past full of enemies dogging his steps anymore since he hadn't double-crossed or offended any of them yet in this timeline. It meant less reward money floating around to tempt people to shoot him in the back.
"I have a job for you if you're interested," Sugi said with a crooked smile and arched brow.
"Depends on the job."
"You once mentioned you're good with Wookies?" She paused, waiting for Han's nod before continuing. "I need someone who speaks Shyriiwook and can use a blaster to help me rescue one. It should be a quick pickup job in and out of Trandosha space." For some reason Han couldn't remember, those details sounded familiar. "The clients are coming along to provide the muscle, but I'd feel better with another gun protecting my ship and someone to liaise with the Wookies so I don't have to."
"Just the two of us for crew or do you still run with Seripas?" Han asked, rocking back on his heels. It felt familiar, but not in a bad way, so he decided not to worry about it.
"The three of us," Sugi said and specified his cut of the reward.
The screen on the wall next to Han started flashing images of Anakin Skywalker posing with his lightsaber and flashing a rakish smile, making Han's trigger finger itch and his head start hurting. Since Sugi only used entertainment screens in private on her ship, Han probably wouldn't have to watch that stupid reel even once on this job, which sounded amazing, but he had a reputation to maintain. He couldn't have people seeing him as a pushover.
"Since I'm the Wookie liaison, give me ten percent more," he demanded.
"I could just use a translator tablet and type things," she said, narrowing her eyes and trying to stare him down. Scarier ladies than her had tried and failed. Han crossed his arms and tried not to look too eager to get out of this place and away from Anakin videos and fangirls. Finally, Sugi huffed. "Fine, I'll do five percent more, but if they want backup you're the one going down with them," she said grudgingly.
"Done," Han said, clapping his hands and falling into step by her side. "So how many Wookies are coming with us and how many are we rescuing?"
"I don't have a final count, but my ship won't fit more than a double handful or less and I told the client that. We'll know for sure when we pick them up," she shrugged. "The Trandoshan slavers are based on an island on the forest moon of Wasskah."
"Never heard of it," Han said as they turned into her docking slip. The ramp was down and Han could see Seripas moving in the cargo hold, still wearing his mechanosuit to make himself look bigger.
"From what I found, this group of Trandoshans use it as a hunting ground, stocking it with sentients to kill for training and their twisted version of fun." Eyes hard, Sugi pursed her lips.
Han wrinkled his nose and stuck a thumb into his belt. "Charming."
"Isn't it just," Sugi agreed. She stopped by the wall kiosk to type in a leaving notification to reserve their spot in this planet's notoriously slow departure queue and then gestured to Han to follow her up the ramp of her ship. The communicator on her belt chimed. Sugi pulled it out and kept walking as she read the new message. Time was money on a job like this.
"Anything else?" he asked, looking around at the new ship she'd purchased. It looked small and fast, with enough wear to give it character. Han approved.
Scrolling through a message on her device, Sugi absently hummed. "Oh, yeah, our target is a Wookiee named Chewbacca, though there could be other captives we might pick up to try for extra reward money."
A ringing started in Han's head. He froze mid-step. Sugi's voice was muffled in Han's ears. "I was told he got out a message with his name and location, but he hasn't responded to requests for more information."
Chewie. Han was going to get to see Chewie again. Chewie!
Mind rebooting, Han raced forward to catch up with Sugi as she clapped Seripas on the shoulder and headed for the cockpit. "We should hurry, he could be in danger," Han said, chest feeling tight with a mix of worry and anticipation. "Do we have enough weapons? I'm great with the turret gun if you remember."
Casting him a sideways look, Sugi nodded. "I remember. It's the other half of why I offered you the job, after taking the Wookies off my hands." Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she watched him, her forehead markings twisting into a shape that looked like the face of Jabba the Hutt.
Thinking of Jabba just made Han more anxious. "Want me to fly her?" He followed Sugi into the cockpit, feeling jittery with the need to go go go to find Chewie. "Or do anything else?" If he'd known it was for Chewie, he'd have offered to do the job for free. He was going to see Chewie again!
"No, I got it," Sugi said, looking suspicious and disturbed. "Why are you suddenly so eager and happy? It's weirding me out. Go away and don't come back until you're a grumpy and cynical old man again."
"Fine, fine, I'm going." Han held up his hands and backed away, trying to look calm and collected.
Chewie never told Han about any Trandoshan slavers, but then again there was a lot in his life he'd never mentioned. The Wookie was almost two hundred years old. He'd lived a long life before they'd ever met, losing his planet, family, and freedom to the Empire just before they'd met.
Han had been the pilot of the shuttle transporting the Wookie to slavery. That had been Han's moral line in the sand. By the end of that trip, Han had freed Chewie and deserted from the Imperial Navy. That would make this the second time he'd rescued Chewie from slavery.
At least, it would be the second time for Han.
Han deflated. For Chewbacca, this would be their first meeting. Chewie wouldn't recognize some gray-haired human as his best friend. He'd just see a stranger.
Ducking into the bunkroom, Han rubbed his face hard and sat down on a bed. Looking around at the empty room, he sighed at not having anything to do to distract himself. He missed tinkering with the Falcon.
The last time he'd pulled back a grate to improve a few things on Sugi's ship without her permission, she'd almost bitten his ear off. Literally. It had bled for almost thirty minutes.
Han had always thought of himself as a loner who liked it that way, but in retrospect, he'd never really been alone much in his previous life. He'd just never realized it until now when nobody knew or cared about him. He'd always been surrounded by co-workers, clients, enemies, acquaintances, lovers, and friends. Han Solo had a reputation in certain circles—whether the criminal underworld or the former Rebel Alliance—and was used to being recognized.
For over half his life he'd had Chewbacca, Luke, and Leia to rely on to save his butt and to save theirs in turn. They'd been his family and then Ben had come along, making that family bigger. Even he and Lando had forgiven each other and grown close those last few decades. When everything had gone wrong with Ben, he'd run away from home and Leia's disappointment, but he'd always known he could come back. Now he had no home and no one to miss him or welcome him back.
There was no going back.
The rumble of the ship's engines lifting off broke him from his thoughts. "Snap out of it, Han," he told himself with disgust, slapping at his cheeks. "If you get any more maudlin I'm going to have to shoot you just to remind you what pain really feels like."
"If you do, please let me watch," Anakin said, leaning against the wall. Despite the faint blue glow, he was barely visible with his black tunic and pants covered by a long black robe. Only his pale face and hands stood out from the shadows.
Thinking himself alone, Han jumped a parsec. "Sweet baby tookas in a feather factory, don't you ever knock!"
"I always knock," Anakin said with a deadpan stare. Lifting his arm, he silently rocked his transparent fist in and out of the solid wall in a knocking motion.
"Ha ha," Han said sourly, pressing a hand to his chest and trying to get his racing heartbeat to slow down. "Don't you ever wear anything but black?" he asked, changing the subject. "Even your younger self never wears anything lighter than navy. It can't be a Jedi thing because Old Ben wears lots of cream and brown."
Arching one brow, Anakin asked, "Old Ben? You mean my grandson?"
"No, of course not." Han sent him a scathing look. "And Ben Solo is my son, not your grandson." Han ignored Anakin's unimpressed look and waved his hand. "My Ben wore black as much as possible because he was a tortured, self-absorbed teenager who became an evil galactic warlord. I'm talking about Old Ben Kenobi." Han snapped his fingers and pointed. "Wait, he still goes by Obi-Wan in this time—Obi-Wan Kenobi. Old or young, I've never seen him wear anything but browns and creams even in those battlefield reels."
Expression softening into something fond, Anakin shrugged. "Obi-Wan never liked darker colors. He found them too dramatic. They made him stand out and, despite his reputation and accomplishments, he didn't like standing out. I think there was quite a bit of vanity in there too, as dark colors could wash out his complexion and he would spend an ungodly amount of time on his hair and beard when given the opportunity. He preferred to look well-groomed, scholarly, and distinguished, taking a strange glee in being underestimated by others."
Han blinked at him in surprise. That didn't sound like the voice of the man who'd cut down Old Ben and stomped on his corpse. They must've been close friends once.
It shouldn't surprise him, considering the newsreels blasting in his face about how the two of them were 'The Team,' but somehow it still did. He hadn't expected Anakin to care about anyone but himself and maybe Luke, though Han supposed he couldn't leave out Anakin's mom too. It made Han feel strange. He didn't want to think about Anakin caring about people.
"I was never much like my Master," Anakin looked down at himself. "His Force presence was always so bright and sturdy, while I felt like I might tip over and fall from a precipice at any moment. I felt black on the inside, so I wore it on the outside."
Looking down at his hand, he twisted his wrist. "I suppose like my grandson, I was a stupid, dramatic, and self-absorbed teenager." He gave a crooked smile full of self-mockery and fingered his dark sleeve. "Plus, my younger self thought black made him look older and more impressive to Queens and powerful people."
Smile fading, he huffed softly. "I didn't have it easy, but I never saw how good I had it either. I became a tortured war General and then an evil galactic warlord. As Vader, I depended on my black suit for basic life functions and my looks and preferences became irrelevant."
Anakin brushed a hand down his chest, turning his tunic bronze and his pants brown, but keeping the cloak black. "After all these years, I suppose I forgot I had a choice." Holding out his arms to look himself over, he nodded approvingly. "Though I still won't wear pale shades like Obi-Wan. It always stains and then it's nothing but complaints for days on end, as if the universe was out to get him instead of Obi-Wan making an impractical decision and reaping the consequences."
"How does that work? Can you even stain your clothes as a ghost?" Han's time being dead had become murky, so he couldn't remember. Besides, he didn't think he'd ever been a ghost quite like Anakin or Old Ben, roaming around talking to the living. "Or—as a completely random example—can you be hit by something like, say, a blaster bolt?" Han kept his expression even as he looked down to casually pick dirt from under his nails.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Anakin strode across the room, casting a smirk over his shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yeah, that's why I asked," Han said sardonically.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Anakin said, pivoting on his heel to skewer Han with a hard look. "On this job, don't be too focused on saving your Wookiee."
Shooting to his feet, Han lifted his chin and put his hands on his hips. "Why?"
"You could cause a greater tragedy."
"Try again."
Anakin's lips pressed tight. "There will be other, more important people to save."
"Not to me." Moving to lean against the wall, Han crossed his arms. "Whatever you want me to do, try explaining it instead of making cryptic pronouncements and orders."
"You don't need—"
"Ah!" Han held up a hand, cutting him off. "I ain't leaving that place without saving Chewie. That's non-negotiable. Tell me what you want and I'll think about giving it to you." He gave a toothy smile. "For a price."
Beneath the heat of Anakin's glare, Han felt a little hot under the collar, but since he hadn't been Force-choked yet despite their many disagreements, he was going to pretend it was just a faulty air-handler and not the Force Ghost imagining burning his face off.
Gritting his teeth, Anakin said, "The slavers have Padawans down there too."
Searching his memory, Han came up blank. "What's a Padawan? Some kind of weapon?"
"You could say that, from a certain point of view." Anakin tilted his head and deigned to explain. "A Padawan is a Jedi apprentice. Think human teenagers or species equivalent but with Force Powers. The Trandoshans are hunting and killing them for sport. Their instincts must be on a hair-trigger. If they think you're a threat, they'll attack you too. Don't make the mistake of underestimating them, especially not Ahso—" biting off whatever he was about to say, he took a deep breath, flaring his nostrils.
Did Force ghosts even need to breathe? Or was it just a habit, like the dark clothes?
"You have to save them."
When he didn't seem like he was going to say more, Han clapped his hands and shrugged. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. As long as they're aren't too many of them, we can try to pick them up with Chewie."
"Do or do not, there is no try," Anakin said sternly, as if quoting someone.
Han rolled his eyes. "That's stupid, who even says crap like that?"
The corner of Anakin's mouth twitched before he covered his mouth and coughed. "Yes, well, just save them…and don't die." Han almost felt warmed by that, but then Anakin added, "That would ruin things for the rest of us," and reminded Han that he was a jerk.
Tucking his hands in his pockets, Han rocked back on his heels. "Gee, thanks. Isn't it time to meet up with Ben and kill Palpatine already? So you can disappear for good?" Han sent him a closed-mouth smile.
"Not yet. There's still things for you to do."
Growling, Han threw his hands up into the air. "Like what? If you'd just tell me already I'd already be done with it."
"Or you'd have screwed it up. I know what I'm doing and have a plan. After this, we're going to start targeting more of Palpatine's secret labs, so you need to start carrying around more explosives, lots more explosives." Han sent him a wide-eyed look, disturbed by his toothy smile. "Just trust me," Anakin said.
"Ha! Fat chance," Han scoffed.
The intercom buzzed overhead. "Solo, you're up. We're about to land to pick up the clients."
"Just remember what I said about the Padawans," Anakin said.
Waving his hand, Han moved past Anakin to leave the room. "Yeah yeah, I got this. Don't worry."
Anakin wrinkled his nose. "Why did you have to say that? Now I'm really worried." Rubbing hard at his temple with two fingers, he disappeared.
"Thanks for the pep talk," Han grumbled as he made his way to the cargo hold to greet the Wookies. "Can ghosts even get headaches? I hope so."
Things moved quickly after that, which was just as well because being stuck in a small cargo hold with several angry and anxious Wookiees when you were a small squishy human was not something Han recommended. Wasskah looked like just about every other forest moon Han had ever been to, though at least it didn't have a giant Death Star overhead or annoying little Ewoks like on Endor, though the Trandoshans probably couldn't throw a party like the Ewoks either.
As they approached the area Chewie's signal had come from, they didn't have to search for long to find the captives. It was pretty obvious since a fight was taking place on the deck of an airship between a group of big Trandoshan slavers and some scrawny teens. Heart in his throat as Sugi's ship banked to land, Han saw a familiar Wookiee come into view on the deck. Unfortunately, Chewie got knocked down seconds later. The Trandoshans seemed to be winning despite the efforts of Chewie and the feisty orange-skinned Togruta who seemed to be in charge of the other captives, but Han was going to change that. As soon as they got in range, he opened the cargo door and started shooting with his blaster, targeting the Trandoshans closest to Chewie. He'd have liked to use the turret gun for its better range and accuracy, but since he didn't want to accidentally sink the other ship with Chewie and the kids still on it he had to wait.
Sugi slowed to a hover and began to bring the ship down, but the Wookiees got impatient. General Tarfful gave a roaring battlecry and jumped out while the ship was still in mid-air. Cursing, Han redirected his fire a split-second before he shot their client in the back. It was a little high for most humanoids to jump, but they landed just fine, obviously familiar with aerial assaults despite how most Wookiees preferred to avoid ships.
In the confusion, Chewie got free and started to grapple with a Trandoshan. They disappeared around a corner. Cursing, Han realized that if he wanted to help him he was going to have to risk going down there.
"I'm too old for this," Han griped as he attached a line to a hook in the wall and rappelled down onto the deck. Luckily everyone was too distracted to shoot at him. He landed with a hard thump that his knees and lower back let him know they did not appreciate.
Ignoring the pain in his joints as best he could, Han hobbled over to the stairs to get some cover and started shooting. He'd lost sight of Chewie. Wincing, he realized he was going to have to climb the stairs to find his friend. His knees threatened to stage a revolt. Gritting his teeth, Han told them to shut up and start climbing.
On reaching the top of the stairs, he found a large room with both doors left wide open. The feisty Togruta girl was fighting with an ugly Trandoshan more than twice her size. She was winning, which surprised Han, but she also was using Force tricks, so that explained it. Blaster raised, Han looked for an opening, but before he could help, the girl knocked the Trandoshan down and disarmed him. Instead of moving in to finish him off, knock him out, or tie him up, the girl kept her distance and tried to talk the slaver into some peaceful resolution or reasonable compromise.
Curling his lip, Han shook his head at her naivete. Definitely a Jedi.
In a completely unsurprising move, the Trandoshan used the time she spent talking to regain his strength and canvas his surroundings before lunging to the side to grab a weapon and rolling up to kill the girl with it.
Or at least, he started to.
Han didn't give him the chance to complete the move, shooting the Trandoshan in the back twice and making him drop to the foot of the opening in the wall looking out across the deck below. The Togruta had flipped out of the way of the shot and lifted her hand as if about to Force push, though she spun to face Han instead after the Trandoshan dropped.
"Hey, I'm here to rescue you, so don't attack me," Han called, pointing his blaster at the ceiling.
Panting, the girl nodded and lowered her hand, though Han knew that didn't mean much when it came to using the Force. According to Luke, hand gestures were only used to help visualize outcomes. They weren't necessary.
"Thanks for the save," she said. "My name's Ahsoka Tano. I'm a Jedi Padawan."
"Han Solo," he nodded in greeting and then frowned at her, "and you talk too much to bad guys. He almost got you, you know."
Expression hardening, she stalked towards the opening in the wall. "No, he didn't. I'm better than that."
"If you say so, kid," Han said skeptically, looking around but not seeing anyone else. "Is there a Wookiee named Chewbacca up here?"
Reaching the opening, Ahsoka looked out over the deck of the ship and pointed with her chin. "He's down there with the others." A weary and relieved smile broke across her face. "We won."
Han looked past her to see Chewie getting a hearty backslapping from General Tarfful. Han released a gusty sigh. Chewie was okay.
"See you below," Ahsoka said. Stepping to the edge of the dropoff, Ahsoka Force jumped down, landing light as a feather. If Han tried that, he'd break a hip.
"Stupid Anakin thinking it funny to keep me old with crappy knees," Han grumbled as he turned away from the dropoff and took the slower but safer route back down the stairs.
Han reached the deck, turned the corner, and looked up to find himself directly across from Chewie. Seeing his familiar furry face made Han grin fit to bursting. "Chewie!" Han raced forward and grabbed the Wookiee in a big hug. "You're here! You alright?" Chewie rawr'ed an affirmative and squeezed Han back in his big warm arms. Unexpected tears pricked Han's eyes. For the first time in years, everything felt perfect.
After not nearly long enough, Chewie patted Han's back, unwound his arms, and stepped away. Han might've clung embarrassingly for a moment, but he wasn't strong enough to stop Chewie's escape. If a Wookiee wanted to get free, he was going to get free. Feeling cold, Han tried to look like he didn't mind and everything was fine. Of course he was fine.
Head tilting, Chewie looked down at him quizzically. "Thanks for the rescue," he roared in Shyriiwook.
"Of course, Chewie. No problem," Han said, tucking his thumbs in his belt so he didn't do something embarrassing like lunge at Chewie and try to pull him in for another hug.
"Do I" —looking Han up and down, Chewie scratched his head— "do I know you?"
Han shrugged helplessly. "Not yet, but," cocking his finger at Chewie, Han gave the big lug a cocky grin, "we're going to be great friends. Legendary, in fact."
Chewie chuckled, looking unwittingly charmed. "And what's the name of my future legendary friend, if I might ask?"
Passing by at that moment, Ahsoka paused and gave Han a distracted smile. "He's asking for your name and offering to be friends."
"I know what he said, sister. I heard him just fine," Han said, waving her off.
Looking surprised, Ahsoka cocked her head. "Oh, you speak Shyriiwook too? Well then, I'll leave you to it." Giving them both a smile, she moved on to join the others.
Holding out his hand to Chewie, Han smiled, feeling like his heart might burst. "Han Solo, pilot and jack of all trades. There's always a place for you on my ship."
Engulfing his hand, Chewie shook it firmly. "I'm Chewbacca. My non-Wookiee friends call me Chewie, though you seem to already know that." Han just smiled and shrugged, not sure how to explain. After a searching look, Chewie accepted his reticence and let it go, gesturing to the side. "Is that your ship?"
Han turned to see Seripas in his mechanosuit helping Ahsoka and the other passengers. Remembering his current circumstances, he deflated. "Ah, no, that belongs to my employer, Sugi. I haven't got a ship right now, but after I finish a few things, getting one is at the top of my list." He looked at Chewie hopefully. "I'll need a copilot."
"Well, you'll have to let me know when that happens," Chewbacca said as they fell into step and moved to join the others. "I like traveling. I have responsibilities to my people for now, but you have me curious."
"It's a deal," Han promised fervently as he ushered Chewie into the ship and climbed up after him.
"Solo," Sugi called, already lifting off. "Secure the passengers and keep them out of my way."
Han flicked her a salute. "You got it, boss."
The next few hours passed too quickly. All too soon he was saying goodbye to Chewie, grabbing him with another bone-crushing hug before his best friend in the galaxy disappeared again. Han didn't like the way he felt about that, so he refused to think about it.
Instead, he distracted himself with the Jedi kids. Sugi had agreed to take them to the nearest Republic spaceport where they could make their way back to the Core. The Jedi council had agreed to pay her a fee for the transport. The kids all looked exhausted and shell-shocked, but after some food and patching up, they seemed to be bouncing back with all the resiliency of youth.
Han disembarked with the kids since Sugi didn't need him for her next job and kicked him out with his payment and thanks for a job well done. Aimless once again, Han tried to decide if he should look for work or a hot meal first. Catching a whiff of himself, Han wrinkled his nose. He'd thought the awful smell was just the unwashed Jedi kids and a hold full of Wookiees, but turned out he was a bit ripe himself. Looking around to get his bearings on the station, Han found himself blinded by a big yawn. "Sonic shower and bed, in that order," he decided.
"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Solo," Ahsoka said as they reached the intersection where they were parting ways. The kids all gave bows and moved on to speak with a droid at the travel desk about their tickets. Instead of moving on with them, Ahsoka lingered, watching him with a weight in her eyes he didn't like.
"Good luck and may the Force be with you," Han said, giving her a wave goodbye as he turned to go.
"And with you as well," Ahsoka said and then licked her lips, the white markings on her forehead scrunching. Stepping closer, she peered into his eyes. "It's so strange. When I concentrate on you with the Force, I see it curling around you like a cupping hand, stronger than I've ever seen in anyone else." Looking right and left, she leaned forward, went up on her toes, and whispered, "Are you a Jedi Master in hiding? Or a Jedi Shadow?"
Laughing in her face, Han shook his head. "Are you kidding? I ain't no Jedi, kid. I'm just a simple pilot and hired hand."
Mouth pouting, she shifted back onto her heels. "Stop calling me kid." She crossed her arms and scuffed her feet, looking more like a child at that moment than ever. "Something's odd about you and Master Skywalker says to always trust your instincts."
"Luke?" Han asked, his stomach jumping with hope and excitement before he remembered what a stupid question that was in this time period. "Oh. Anakin." He wrinkled his nose and tucked his hands into his pockets. "You tangled up with that creep?"
Back stiffening as she stepped back, Ahsoka sent him a glare and bared her sharp little teeth. "That 'creep' is my Jedi Master and you will speak of him with respect."
Han winced and shook his head. "Oh, tough luck, kid. Good luck with that and watch your back." Scratching his chest, he had a thought. "When he starts going Dark, tell him to call his mom. Maybe that'll help." He gave her a shrug. "Or not. Sucks to be you." Looking over her shoulder, he nodded his head. "Better go catch up with your friends."
Saying goodbye through gritted teeth, Ahsoka turned and stomped away, her striped lekku bouncing with every step.
Han shrugged and crossed his arms behind his head, wandering off in the opposite direction. Time to find that sonic and a bed. If he was really lucky, he might even go a whole month before Anakin showed up with more insults and cryptic orders.