Han Solo stood alone amid the teeming mass of cadets gathered at the rooftop landing field on Coruscant. The tight collar of his new uniform chafed his neck, but he resisted the urge to tug at it. Doing so might wrinkle it, and Han wanted to look his best.

All around him, cadets were being hugged and kissed farewell by their families. Only a few cadets were alone, as he was. Han scanned the crowd and noticed a dark-skinned boy a few meters away, who didn’t seem to have anybody. And there was a young woman with military-short hair standing across the landing field who was also alone.

But most of the cadets had fathers, and mothers, brothers and sisters and grandparents, uncles and aunts and cousins, who’d come to see them off in their hour of triumph. Han felt a wave of loneliness. He was older than the other cadets, and that, too, set him apart.

But hey … I’m here. I made it.

The transport Imperator lay waiting for them on the landing field. Soon, the cadets would be boarding it for their trip to Carida, the Imperial military training world. Han smiled a little as he studied its lines, its oversized dorsal fin. A Corellian corvette. How fitting …

He gazed at the crowd again, searchingly, and suddenly realized that he’d been hoping to see a certain red-gold head among the well-wishers. Dumb, Solo. Really dumb. You didn’t really expect her to show up, did you? She’s long gone!

No, Han decided, he really hadn’t expected Bria to show up. But maybe, deep down, he’d hoped she would …

He sighed. Dewlanna had used to quote an old Wookiee proverb at him, something that translated into Basic as, roughly: “Joy unmixed with sorrow is suspect.”

Dewlanna …

If only she could see him now. Han imagined her, her tall, shaggy form, her snubbed black nose, her little, twinkling eyes nearly hidden beneath tufts of graying tan Wookiee hair. She would be very proud today, he knew that. For a moment she was so real that he could almost imagine her, could almost hear her growls and moans as she told him how proud he’d made her. She’d ruffle up his hair so he’d look attractively “scruffy.”

Han smiled faintly at the idea. I made it, Dewlanna, he told her image silently. Look at me. You’re my family, my only family, so it’s right that you be here today, even if you’re only in my memory …

And Bria …

Face it, Solo, you still care. You still watch for her, and listen for the sound of her step, her voice. You need to get over this, man …

Han shook his head, as though he could dismiss Bria’s image as easily as he’d summoned Dewlanna’s. But he was taking Bria aboard the Imperator, as surely as if she were here, walking beside him. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t forget her.

Another of Dewlanna’s old Wookiee proverbs surfaced in his mind: “To have a good memory is to be both blessed and cursed …”

How right you are, Dewlanna, Han thought.

He shifted his weight, and stabbing pain in his right leg reminded him of the fight the night before last. Han blew out his breath. He’s dead, Dewlanna, he thought. Your killer is dead. You can rest easier, knowing that, I’ll bet …

An Imperial officer was making his way through the crowd, now. As he passed Han, the Lieutenant paused and looked at him sharply. “Your name, Cadet?”

Han snapped to attention. “Cadet Han Solo, sir!”

“You forget how to salute, Cadet Solo?”

“No, sir!” Han said, and gave the man his best salute.

The officer gazed at Han’s face. “Cadet Solo, what happened to your face?”

For a moment Han was tempted to say he walked into a door, but he decided that the truth was probably the best answer. “Sir, I got in a fight.”

“Really? I could never have told,” the lieutenant said, a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. “What was the fight about, Cadet Solo?”

Han thought fast. “My opponent insulted the Imperial Navy, sir.”

After all, it was true.

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. “Really, Cadet? That was most … unwise … of him. Did you give him a good thrashing for his disrespect, Cadet Solo?”

Han remembered just in time not to nod. “I did, sir. I assure the lieutenant that he will never say anything insulting about the Imperial forces again, sir.”

“Very good, Cadet Solo.” The lieutenant smiled faintly and walked on, to the head of the group.

Han breathed a long, slow sigh of relief. Made it through that one!

An amplified voice echoed across the landing fields. A noncommissioned officer was standing beside the lieutenant, giving orders. “Imperial cadets! Assemble in ranks!”

There was general confusion for a second, then the lines of cadets formed into ranks. “We will board the transport ship in rows. No talking, and pick up your feet.”

Silence fell. Han was in Row 4. He stood as straight as he could, looking neither left nor right, waiting for his orders to move. From somewhere, the martial theme of the Imperial Navy began playing in the background.

“Row one! March!”

“Row two! March!”

“Row three! March!”

Excitement coursed through Han, singing in his blood This is it. What I’ve waited for all my life …

“Row four! March!” bawled the noncom.

Han right-faced smartly and followed the man ahead of him toward the Imperator. As he marched, he allowed himself a faint smile.

Today it begins, he thought. My real life begins.

He imagined Dewlanna’s and Bria’s faces. They were smiling, too.

His feet were on the ramp. Han took a deep breath, the kind of breath that a newborn might draw in order to give its first cry, its first shout of, I’m here! Listen to me, I’m ALIVE!

Han Solo felt new, as though he’d just been born. The dark past tumbled off his shoulders, and only the bright future lay ahead.

He marched forward into it eagerly, and did not look back.