O N E
Clary knows her brother like the back of her hand. Spending nearly most of her life with him, it wasn't hard; Han was an open book to her. Looking at him now, leaning against the pilot chair of his beloved ship, the Millennium Falcon, Clary realizes just how much of an open book he is. She reads him right now—from the way his brow is creased and the way he seems to be glaring up at the stars, she knows something is troubling him. Perhaps anyone else could sense it, but Clary felt a sharp pain of guilt: even though her brother will run his mouth almost all the time, exasperating half of the people he's met and will meet, Clary still loves him with all her heart. He's the only family she's got, after all.
"Good morning, brother," Clary says, making her way further into the cockpit. Han glances back at her as she approaches then turns back to the stars.
"How do you know it's morning? We're in space."
Clary shrugs, taking the seat of the co-pilot—Chewbacca is somewhere sleeping farther in the Falcon, providing Clary with a spot next to her brother. She examines her brother's posture and attempts to mimic it, kicking her feet up to rest against the control panel. At her sudden movement, Han sits upright and pushes her feet off.
"Hey, watch it!" he scolds. "One wrong move and we'd be plummeting into hyperspace."
"Better than flying around in the middle of nowhere," Clary retorts. Han meets her gaze before letting out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.
"We're not in the middle of nowhere," Han snaps back. He leans forward, flicking a button on the control panel as he adds, "We're almost at Tatooine. Go wake Chewie and get your stuff."
Clary wrinkles her nose as she hops up to her feet, heading to the door. "Tatooine? Seriously? That planet is so dreary it gives me depression just by looking at it."
Han glances back at her. "Don't judge a planet by how it looks, Clary. What's inside is what counts."
Clary snorts, shaking her head as she retreats out of the cockpit. She spots Chewbacca lounging nearby and heads over to him, shaking him gently. Normally, she would have been scared to wake the giant warrior; Wookies were known for their temper and sharp claws and teeth. But Chewie was one of Clary's closest friends and knew for certain that the Wookiee wouldn't dare hurt her. Chewbacca turned in his sleep, roaring softly. Stepping back before the Wookiee had a chance to growl at her, Clary says in a gentle voice,
"Han wants you, fellow co-pilot." The Wookiee grumbles but blinks his eyes open, sitting upright. Meeting Clary's gaze, he roars something tiredly. Clary smiles.
"I know, but my dearest brother insists. He says we're almost at planet Tatooine," she adds. Chewbacca emits a noise that sounds like a sigh as he rises to his feet, starting towards the cockpit. Clary smiles after the Wookie warrior before following after him. She leans against the door of the cockpit, watching as Chewbacca takes his place at the co-pilot's seat as he began to click buttons.
As she watches the two land the Falcon, Clary clears her throat. Concentrated, Han lets out a sigh before glancing back at her. "What is it this time, Clary?"
"Just wondering when you'll let me land this thing," she says. Han scoffs, but before he can snap a retort Clary continues, "I know how to fly a ship, Han. You taught me when I was barely six years old—"
"Yeah, that was a mistake," Han mutters. Clary crosses her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes.
"I want to fly."
"Yeah, well we're landing right now," Han smirks, turning back to fully look at his little sister. "How are you going to fly a ship that's landing?"
"Shut up," Clary snaps. "You promised."
The smile on Han's face slowly disappears as a look of concern crosses it. He lets out a sigh, running his hand through his hair before turning around, facing the front of the ship once more. He flicks a switch as he says, "When we leave you get to fly."
"Do you promise?"
"I'm a little busy right now," Han calls, attempting to change the subject. Chewbacca lets out a defiant bark that sounds as if he has it under control, giving the oldest Solo brother a pointed look. Han meets his gaze. "What? Oh, don't tell me you're on her side."
Clary smiles triumphantly as Han glances back at her. "Wipe that smirk off your face," he snaps. Clary's grin merely widens as he adds, "I already promised I'd let you fly—would I ever break a promise?"
"It'd be a first," Clary agrees but leaves the cockpit with a giddy skip. She had always wanted to fly—she could remember the first time Han taught her. It was nearly several years ago, but it felt like it had been several moments ago. Han loves the Falcon with all his heart, so Clary knew it meant a lot when he offered to teach her to fly his beloved spaceship. Clary loved the feeling when she had the ship under control (with Chewie co-piloting around, just in case she would mess up), flying through space at ease. She felt free and content. It was in that moment she truly understood her brother; her infamous smuggling brother, Han Solo. Flying was the freedom they had both been seeking.
She grabs her bag resting on the table farther in the ship and looks through it once more: some medicine bottles she had stolen from one smuggling trip with Han were the only items within it. Closing the bag with a sigh, Clary fastens it around her shoulder as the ship gives a small lurch—they had finally landed.
"So why are we here?" Clary asks as she follows her brother and Chewbacca to the exit of the ship. Han glances at her.
"We're going to the cantina."
Clary attempts to suppress a sigh but fails miserably. Han gives her a look as she mumbles, "Of course we're going there."
"What? You have a problem with the cantina?"
Clary doesn't say anything—he already knows what she's thinking, anyway. Giving his sister a considerate look, Han leads the way down the walkway as they step on the sand of Tatooine. "I can get money this way, Clary."
"I know," Clary says a little too quickly. "You can get money no matter what, Han. But is it going to be enough?" She meets his gaze. For once, her brother doesn't have a witty retort. She sighs, tearing her gaze away from him as she kicks at the sand. It rises up as dust, dissipating around her feet. Clary already knows that this planet is going to be her least favorite of all.
She glances around and spots around several groups of Stormtroopers—it's not hard to pick them out, what with their blasters held in hand and their white suits, they stand out against the plain sand of Tatooine. Looking back at her brother, Clary sees that he too has noticed the Stormtroopers. His jaw is clenched as he glances back at his younger sister; Chewbacca barks something uncertainly as a Stormtrooper glances their way.
"I hate them," Clary mutters. Han smirks.
"You and me both, sis." He looks back at Chewbacca. "It's all right, Chewie—we're almost at the cantina."
The Mos Eisley cantina is probably the only fun part of planet Tatooine, what with its strong drinks, loud music and eventual violent outbreaks, it was the life of the party. Despite the fact it wasn't Clary's favorite hideaway, it was a lively tavern, and Han usually was able to smuggle a few extra coins—Clary remembers how he managed to barter some nova crystals their last visit at a cantina similar to Mos Eisley, and she attempts to squash down her superstitions as they enter the tavern. At the sudden burst of loud music Clary winces, wishing they were back on the Falcon. She likes it much better when they aren't on a planet, although they had been travelling nearly everywhere, Clary prefers the open space of the galaxy; just her, Chewie and Han, staring at the stars. It was her safe haven and Clary didn't like any of the interruptions that affected it. The musky scent of the tavern gives Clary a headache and she looks back at Han. He's still standing beside her, but Chewbacca had already walked off to the bar, most likely looking for someone willing to pay for a ride. It was how they usually made most of their money, and although it wasn't enough, it was still something.
Han leads the way to an empty table in the farther corner of the tavern. Despite the proximity, the music still hammers loudly in Clary's ears. Noticing her discomfort, Han reaches forward and squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.
"Don't worry, sis. Chewie'll be back soon enough."
Clary nods although she feels her head reeling. Usually the strangers Chewbacca invites have turned out to be pleasant, but that doesn't help to ease Clary's anxiety—they can't waste time being a taxi driver for a bunch of strangers: they need all the time they can get if they want to get enough money to pay back Jabba the Hutt. Clary holds her hands under the table, playing around with them nervously. Taking a few strangers to different planets for a few coins didn't help—they should be doing bigger things than being a charity case.
"Can I at least get a drink?" Clary asks, looking at her brother. He snorts.
"No way." As one drink is set on their table and the waiter scurries away, Han takes a sip from it. "This stuff is way too strong for you."
"How would you know that if I haven't had a drink yet?"
Han meets her gaze evenly. "I said no, Clary."
Clary snorts, rolling her eyes as she leans forward, resting her elbows against the table as she stares blankly ahead. She glances to her right when Han shuffles out of the booth. "Where are you going?"
"Where do you think?" He nods to the bar. "I'm getting you the lightest one possible."
A smile stretches across Clary's face as Han disappears amongst the crowd—the loud clamoring of the band playing nearby no longer echoes in her eardrums as she stares at her hands now resting on the table, still smiling.
"Don't insult us," a voice calls over the music, gaining Clary's attention. She glances over her shoulder to the bar nearby where Chewbacca is speaking with an older man. Next to him sits a boy around Clary's age—the human is standing next towards a large creature with multiple eyes, glaring horrendously at the younger boy.
"You just watch yourself," the man continues, "We're wanted men. I have the death sentence in twelve systems."
Clary rolls her eyes. How impressive.
"I'll be careful then," says the blond, glancing at the two warily before looking back down at his drink. The other man sneers.
"You'll be dead." He grabs a hold of the blond, spinning him around harshly. Before he can land a nasty blow on his head, the older man who had been speaking with Chewbacca has finally turned around, facing the skirmish that was beginning. He rests a hand on the blond's shoulder as he gestures to the two wanted men politely.
"This little one isn't worth the effort," he says, "Come, let me buy you something—" As he turns to face the Bartender, the offender reaches forward and pushes the young boy off his stool and he falls to the floor with a loud clamor. Clary's eyes widen as she sits a little straighter to get a better view.
Before the wanted man had a chance to step forward, the older one starts to the defense of the blond, retrieving something out from his pocket. The Bartender's eyes widen as he waves his hands drastically. "No blasters!" he shouts. "No blasters!"
But it wasn't a blaster the older man had revealed. Clary blinks, watching with wide eyes as a beam of light erupts from the weapon—she couldn't believe her eyes as the man swiftly slices at the wanted man's arm: he let out a loud cry in alarm as he collapses to the ground and Clary can feel her heart racing. A lightsaber. A real, genuine lightsaber, shining before her eyes—she suddenly remembers the stories Han used to tell about Jedi warriors and their lightsabers, and how blasters were much more convenient. She is entranced by the weapon, but the old man puts it away as quickly as he had revealed it—the glowing blue light that emitted from it disappears, leaving the tavern cold and empty. Clary doesn't notice that Chewbacca had made his way over to the table until he growls. She looks up, meeting the gaze of the Wookie warrior, along with the old man with the sacred Jedi weapon and the young boy who had been involved with the skirmish.
Chewbacca roars again and Clary blinks, still fazed from seeing the lightsaber—she thought that Jedis no longer existed. When Chewbacca barks again, she blinks, turning her gaze away from the older man before nodding to the Wookie.
"Han is over at the bar. I can go get him—" Chewbacca interrupts her with a yelp before turning to get Han, who is already making his way to the table. Clary clears her throat uncertainly, glancing back at the strangers. She meets the gaze of the older man first—he smiles politely and Clary returns it, her gaze flickering back to his waist where the lightsaber was kept. She blinks, turning her gaze away to meet the eyes of the boy her age. They're blue and bright, and he holds her gaze for a moment, looking thoughtful. Clary clears her throat, realizing he is now staring at her before she turns away. Han is finally back at the table, relief flooding through Clary as she scoots farther left to the booth as Chewie squeezes his way in as well. Han passes the drink to Clary, but she doesn't drink from it. Instead, she looks back at the young boy. He's still staring at her.
"Preserve me in carbonite, pretty boy," Clary says, gaining his attention. She smirks as she adds, "I'll last longer."
The blond's face flushes a bright shade of pink as he looks away—Clary feels slightly bad for embarrassing him publicly (he wasn't that bad looking and didn't seem like a bad person), but her feelings are interrupted as Han nods to the older man.
"Han Solo," he introduces. "I'm captain of the Millennium Falcon." He nods to Chewbacca as he adds, "Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."
The older man nods. "Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship."
"Fast ship?" Clary raises her eyebrows as she leans back in the booth, arms crossed over her chest. "You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?"
The older man blinks, smiling slightly. "Should I have?"
"It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!" Han exclaims. The older man glances back at him, nodding slowly. Han sighs as he leans back in the booth as well, mimicking his sister. "I've outrun Imperial starships, and not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the big Corellian ships, now." He nods to the older man. "She's fast enough for you, old man. What's the cargo?"
"Only passengers," he replies. "Myself, the boy, two droids, and no questions asked."
Clary opens her mouth to say something but Han raises his hand. "What is it?" he asks. "Some kind of local trouble?"
Clary glances at him. "I believe they said no questions asked, dear brother." Han gives her a pointed look.
"Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements," the older man says calmly. He glances back at Clary, giving her a small smile.
"Well that's the trick, isn't it?" Han mutters. "And it's going to cost you something extra," he adds a little louder, "Ten thousand in advance."
The young boy's eyes widen at this. "Ten thousand?" he exclaims. "We could almost buy our own ship for that!"
"Yeah, but who's going to fly it, pretty boy?" Clary questions. He glances her way as she adds, eyebrows raised, "You?"
"You bet I could," the boy retorts, stepping closer to the table, meeting Clary's gaze evenly. He adds with a defiant smirk. "I'm not such a bad pilot myself!" Before Clary has the chance to retort, he looks back at the older man. "We don't have to stay here and listen—"
"We haven't that much with us," the older man interrupts, "But we could pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan."
"Seventeen thousand!" Clary breathes. She glances back at Han as he nods slowly, running his hand across his lips. He stays like that, pondering for a moment before glancing back at the two. Clary notices the blond is staring at the older man, completely astounded.
"Okay," Han says, reaching his hand forward. The older man shakes it as they seal the deal. "You guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready, Docking bay Ninety-four."
The old man nods. "Ninety-four."
Han, however, is no longer looking at him, but instead, at the bar. A few Stormtroopers had made their way into the tavern and are examining the dead bodies, asking a few questions to the Bartender.
"Looks like somebody's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork," says Han, nodding to the older man and blond boy. They both glance in the direction of the Stormtroopers to see the Bartender point in their direction. The Stormtroopers nod.
"All right," says one, "We'll check it out." Before they can start forward, the boy and older man had disappeared. Clary frowns but when she glances back at the Bartender and Stormtroopers, she feels relief at the fact that they aren't heading near them.
"Seventeen thousand!" Han exclaims, gaining her attention. She looks back at him, grinning widely. "Those guys must be really desperate."
"This could really save you, Han," Clary says.
Han grins, hugging Clary across the shoulders tightly. "You and Chewie head back to the ship and get her ready."
Clary nods in response, grabbing the drink and taking a sip from it. She attempts to swallow the strong alcohol as it burns her throat before following after Chewbacca as he leads the way out of the tavern. She glances back at Han to see her brother still sitting at the table, appearing lost in thought. Clary pushes aside any second-hand thoughts as she turns back to Chewie.
"I can't believe we made that much off them," she says. Chewbacca nods, roaring in agreement.
"I wonder what they're running from." Chewbacca glances at her, barking something. Clary rolls her eyes. "Well of course they're running from something, Chewie. Why else would they pay that much for a quick ride to Alderaan? A safe one, in fact."
The Wookiee warrior shrugs in response. Clary continues to walk beside him, finally feeling the heavy weight that had been weighing down on her shoulders be lifted with relief.
"We're saved!" She smiles widely, heart beating. She laughs loudly, running a little faster. Chewbacca barks after her as he too quickens his pace as they head towards the ship. Clary feels elated. Her brother will finally be safe.