CHAPTER FOUR
Leia turned from her packed luggage and glanced at the suite’s doorway as C-3PO opened the door and admitted Elegos A’Kla. The Caamasi wore a gold cloak over his shoulders, and subtle weaving of purple threads into it mimicked the striping on his face and shoulders. The Caamasi gave her a quick smile, then waved off C-3PO’s invitation to take his cloak.
She sighed. “I thought I’d be ready by now, but I’m just finishing my packing. Don’t know when I’ll be back here, and I wanted to take a few things with me.”
“Please, take your time.” Elegos shrugged simply. “If not for my senatorial duties, we would have been away from here a week ago.”
Leia waved him into the two-level suite’s central chamber, and the Caamasi settled himself into one of the nerf-hide chairs angled toward the big viewport that looked out over Coruscant’s cityscape. A hallway heading back to the south led to her study—which had once been the boys’ room—and a smaller bedroom they’d given to Jaina and then, during her time at the academy, had turned into a guest room. The master bedroom lay in the second level, accessed by a curving stairway built against the far wall. The kitchen had been installed to the north of the living room, with a small dining area between it and the living room.
Leia stuffed a small holocube into a bag and started closing the fasteners. “The senate didn’t want to let you head out immediately?”
“I doubt they wanted me to head out at all, but they had no choice. Instead I was given committee assignments and work to clear. My daughter is dealing with most of it for me. Releqy will serve as my liaison with the senate in my absence. This is why I’ve not been in closer communication with you.”
“But your daughter has, so I’ve been apprised of your delays.” Leia straightened up and looked at the three red fabric bags she had stuffed to bursting with clothes and other things she couldn’t bear to leave behind. I left Alderaan with even less than this. Here I am, a quarter of a century later, a refugee once more—this time of my conscience rather than any external act. “I should have been ready before this, but things keep cropping up.”
Before she could even attempt to explain, she saw Elegos’s nostrils flare and his gaze flick past her to the upper landing for the stairs. She turned and found her husband, Han, hanging there in the doorway, his hands on either side of the jamb. She shivered because the haggard look on his face and the position of his hands reminded her far too much of when he had been frozen in carbonite. She wanted to believe the darkness under his eyes was just shadow, but she couldn’t deceive herself that way.
She heard Elegos rise from his chair. “Captain Solo.”
Han’s head came up slowly, and his eyes narrowed as he faced the voice. “A Caamasi? Elegos, isn’t it? A senator?”
“Yes.”
Han staggered forward and almost fell down the stairs. He caught himself on the banister, made it down a couple more steps, then slid his way around the curve. He got his feet under him again, leapt the last few steps to the floor, and strode past Leia. With a grunt, he flopped down almost boneless into one of the chairs opposite Elegos. In the viewport’s light, the rainbow of stains on Han’s once-white tunic was evident, as was the grime at cuffs, collar, and elbows. His boots were badly scuffed, his trousers wrinkled, and his hair utterly unkempt. He ran a hand over beard stubble, flashing dirty fingernails as he did so.
“I have a question for you, Elegos.”
“If I can be of service.”
Han nodded as if his head were balanced on his spine instead of connected by muscle. “I understand you Caamasi have memories, strong memories.”
Leia extended a hand toward Elegos. “Forgive me, Elegos. I learned about that from Luke, and I thought, my husband . . .”
The Caamasi shook his head. “I have no doubt you all are to be trusted with the information about our memnii. Momentous events in our lives create memories. We are able, among our kind, and with certain Jedi, to transfer these memories. They have to be strong memories, powerful ones, to become memnii.”
“Yeah, the strong ones do stick around.” Han focused somewhere between the wall and the edge of the viewport. He fell silent for a moment, then fixed Elegos with a hard stare. “So what I want to know is this: How do you get rid of them? How do you get them out of your head?”
The tortured tone of Han’s voice drove a vibroblade through Leia’s heart. “Oh, Han . . .”
He held up a hand to keep her back. His expression sharpened. “How do you do it, Elegos?”
The Caamasi lifted his chin. “We cannot get rid of them, Captain Solo. By sharing them we share the burden of them, but we can never be rid of them.”
Han snarled, then curled forward in the chair, grinding the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’d tear them out if that would stop me from seeing, you know, I would, I really would. I can’t stop seeing it, seeing him, seeing him die . . .”
The man’s voice sank to a bass rumble; rough, raw, and ragged as broken ferrocrete. “There he was, standing there. He’d saved my son. He’d saved Anakin. He tossed him up into my arms. Then, when I saw him again, a gust of wind knocked him down and collapsed a building on top of him. But he got up. He was bloody and torn up, but he got up again. On his feet, he got up and he raised his arms toward me. He raised his arms toward me, so I could save him, the way he’d saved Anakin.”
Han’s voice squeaked to silence. His larynx bobbed up and down.
“I saw him, don’t you get it? I saw him standing there as the moon hit Sernpidal. The air just combusted. He was standing there, roaring, screaming. The light turned him black. Just a silhouette. Then it ate into him. I saw his bones. They turned black, too, then white, so white I couldn’t watch. Then nothing.” Han swiped at his nose with a hand. “My best friend, my only true friend, and I let him die. How am I supposed to live with that? How do I get that out of my head? Tell me.”
Elegos’s voice came softly, but with a strength that belied its gentle tone. “What you remember is partly what you saw and partly your fears. You see yourself as having failed him, and you think that’s how he saw you at the last, but can’t be sure. Memories are not always that clear.”
“You don’t know, you weren’t there.”
“No, but I have been in similar situations.” The Caamasi sank into a crouch, with his cloak pooling to the floor around him. “The first time I used a blaster, I shot three men. I watched them dance and collapse. I watched them die, and I knew I would carry that memory with me forever, the memory of me killing them. Then it was explained to me: the blaster had only been set to stun them. My belief was wrong, as, perhaps, is yours.”
Han shook his head defiantly. “Chewie was my friend. He counted on me, and I failed him.”
“I do not believe he would see it that way.”
Han snarled. “You didn’t know him. How would you know?”
Elegos laid a hand on the man’s knee. “I didn’t know him, but I have known of him for decades. Even what you just told me now, that he saved your son, tells me how much he loved you.”
“He couldn’t love me. Chewie died hating me. I abandoned him, I left him there to die. His last thoughts were filled with hatred for me.”
“No, Han, no.” Leia dropped to her knees beside Han’s chair and clutched his left forearm. “You can’t believe that.”
“I was there, Leia. I was close to saving Chewie, and I failed. I left him there to die.”
“Regardless of what you believe, Captain Solo, Chewbacca did not share that view.”
“What? How can you know what he was thinking?”
“The same way you will.” The Caamasi blinked his violet eyes. “He saved your son. In Chewbacca’s eyes, Anakin saved you by piloting the Millennium Falcon to safety. Yet one more time Chewbacca saved you, this time through your son. You don’t know that now, but you will come to see that is the truth. When you relive this memory, think about that. As noble a hero as Chewbacca was, he could not have had anything but joy at knowing you survived. To think anything less demeans him.”
Han shot to his feet, pitching the chair over backward. “How dare you? How dare you come into my home and tell me I’m demeaning my friend? What gives you the right?”
Elegos slowly rose and spread open hands before him. “I apologize for any offense, Captain Solo. I have intruded on your grief. It was unthinkable.”
He bowed to Leia. “My apologies to you, as well. I shall leave you.”
“Don’t bother.” Han stalked forward between them, then headed toward the door. “Threepio, find out from Coruscant’s constabulary which tapcafs lead the list for incident reports. Comlink me the list.”
Leia got up. “Han, don’t go. I’m going to be leaving soon.”
“I know. Off to save the galaxy again, that’s my Leia.” He didn’t turn to face her, just hunched his shoulders. “I hope you have better luck. I failed to save even one person.”
The suite’s closing door eclipsed Han Solo’s back.
C-3PO, his head cocked at an angle, looked at Leia. “Mistress? What do I do?”
Leia closed her eyes and sighed. “Get the list, give it to him. Maybe call Wedge or any of the other retired Rogues. Hobbie or Janson or someone ought to be at loose ends and could keep an eye on him. And when he comes back, take good care of him.”
She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Leia, I can head out to the Rim on my own. You can stay here to care for your husband. I can report to you.”
She opened her eyes, then covered Elegos’s hand with her own. “No, Elegos, I need to go. Even that deep in grief, Han’s right. I want to stay, all of me wants to stay, but I have to go. Others can’t, so it is up to us to rescue them. Han can take care of himself—he’ll have to.”