“We will,” Sinjir says. “We’ll find a way.”
But just as Temmin hears worry in his friend’s voice—he also hears doubt. He’s about to call that out when the door opens. A familiar face shows itself: Han Solo. Leia’s husband. Captain of the infamous Millennium Falcon. Not long ago, Leia hired the crew to find Solo. They found him, all right, and ended up helping him get back his copilot, Chewbacca, on Kashyyyk.
Solo has a couple of fruits, one in each hand. He offers one to Sinjir, then tosses the other to Temmin. The boy catches it, just barely.
“Jogan fruit,” Han says, looking uncomfortable. “I, ahh, bought a bunch so it’s fine. Eat ’em. I don’t think Leia wants them.” Moments like this, moments of real emotion, seem to bother the smuggler. He’s like Sinjir that way. Most of him seems to be hidden away behind a wall of blustery ego and cocky pride. “Two of you don’t look so good. If you need something, I can get the droid to—”
“What I need is my mother back,” Temmin says, leaping to his feet. He gets in Solo’s face. “I need you to take us back to Jakku. C’mon. Let’s go. We get the Falcon and we charge in there, cannons blazing—”
“Whoa, kid, whoa. Cool your heels. I’m lucky, but I’m not that lucky. We go barreling in there, we’re dead, all of us. Won’t be any good to your mom if the Falcon is our casket.”
“And what good is it if that planet becomes her tomb?”
Han’s mouth works like he’s going to say something but his brain can’t figure out what. “I got a family coming. And there’s a procedure here—”
“Procedure?” Temmin laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Where was your love of procedure when you went off trying to save Kashyyyk? When you got Chewbacca captured? And last I checked, my mom and the rest of us were more than happy to spit in the eye of the New Republic when it came to doing what you wanted to do.”
Solo screws his face up. Like he’s about to be angry.
Then he says, suddenly:
“You want to do this, fine. Han Solo pays his debts.”
“Helping you cost us a lot and I don’t think you apprecia—wait, uh, what?” Temmin blinks. “What did you just say?”
Lowering his voice, Han answers, “I said, you’re not wrong. I owe you. And…Leia’s gonna kill me, but the Falcon’s the fastest ship I know, and maybe, just maybe if we hit that planet blockade hard, they won’t even see us coming. I might be able to get us down to Jakku—we’ll lose a couple tail feathers along the way, but nothing a bundle of bonding tape won’t fix. The Falcon’s seen worse. If I could just get Chewie…”
“You’re serious.”
“Kid, I don’t joke around about this kind of stuff.”
Temmin’s heart rises—then sinks just as fast. “You can’t.”
“Nobody tells Han Solo what he can’t do.”
“You’re going to be a father. I can’t…you can’t.” A child needs his father, doesn’t he?
A battle unfolds on Solo’s face. A whole war. Like he knows what Temmin’s saying is true, but also like Solo knows who he is and what he does and for better or for worse, this is what he wants to do. “Leia will understand, she’s like me, she does what—”
But whatever promise or plan Solo is poised to make, he loses the chance to say it when the door opens and Princess Leia comes into the room, flanked by the chancellor. They enter in a way that both fills the space with their presence and steals the oxygen at the same time. Even a cocky smuggler like Solo seems smaller, humbled in their shadow.
Senate Guards threaten to come in, as well, but the chancellor stops them short with a stiff shake of her head. “No. We will be alone.”
Han takes the initiative and steps out of the room, pushing the guards back. His hand touches Leia’s as he leaves—a sweet, lingering grip. Temmin remembers when his parents were like that. So long ago, now.
Mon Mothma closes the door as Han and the guards exit.
The chancellor’s face is a strange thing. Temmin can’t decipher what’s going on there. Is that fear in her eyes? But a tug of a smile?
“Hello, Temmin Wexley,” she says. “You will forgive me if I cut right to the chase, but time is precious. I want to know what you saw above Jakku. Tell me what you told Leia.” Soon as they came off the Moth after landing on Chandrila, Leia was the first person they saw. And the only person, too—they went straight to her because who else would they tell? The princess has been their patron through all of this: Their hunt for Sloane was off the books, just like their hunt for Solo, just like freeing Kashyyyk. He’s not sure he’s really supposed to be talking to the chancellor about this stuff.
Mon Mothma is important. Her being here makes him feel very small. Temmin flashes a panicked glance to Sinjir, then to Leia. The ex-Imperial shrugs, and the princess gives a subtle nod indicating tacit approval.
“The Empire is on Jakku,” he says, plain as he can make it.