[Han Solo] - 03(23)
When the world around him stopped spinning (which took a moment) the Corellian began clawing his way out of the sack.
Moments later, he was standing, legs braced wide apart for balance, on the great platform where the great, mostly enclosed city of Rwookrrorro was located. It was a massive, flattened ovoid, with homes studding the outskirts and scattered all over the platform. Branches grew straight up along the avenues, through the material making up the streets, adding touches of green.
The world steadied around Han, and he drew a deep breath. The city before him was beautiful, in a way that was hard to describe. Not as pastel as Cloud City, Rwookrrorro had some of the same openness and airiness.
Perhaps because it was, like Cloud City, so high up?
Some of the buildings were several stories tall, yet they harmonized, somehow, with the treetops. All around them the vivid green topmost branches of the wroshyr trees swayed in the breeze. The sky overhead was blue, with a hint of green. Thick, flattened masses of sparkling white clouds drifted by.
Hearing a strangled gurgle, Han looked over and saw Jarik, bent over, clutching his middle, obviously in distress. He went over and touched the youth’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, you okay?”
Jarik shook his head, then looked as though he’d regretted doing that.
“I’m gonna be okay,” he mumbled. “Jus’ tryin’ not to upchuck …. ” “There’s a trick to that,” Han said mock-seriously. “Just don’t think about traladon and tuber stew.”
Jarik gave Han a quick, betrayed glance, then, hand over his mouth, bolted for the edge of the platform. The Corellian shrugged, then turned to find Chewie there. “Poor guy. Hey, Chewie, what a way to travel.
Good thing your people brought those sacks along. What do you usually carry in them? Luggage?”
Chewbacca’s lip curled, then he gave a brief, amused translation of the word “quulaar.”
Han bristled. “Baby-sack? You haul Wook babies around in ‘em?”
Chewbacca began to laugh, and the madder his human friend got, the more the Wookiee cracked up. Han was rescued by a roar from a party of Wookiees coming their way from the city. There were at least ten of them, all ages. Han noted a somewhat stooped, short, graying Wookiee, and just then Chewbacca took off, racing toward the newcomers with roars of joy.
Watching Chewie thump and pound and hug the old Wookiee, Han turned to Kallabow, who, thankfully, understood Basic. “Attichitcuk?” he guessed, naming Chewbacca’s father.
Chewbacca’s sister confirmed that, yes indeed, that was their father, Attichitcuk, who had talked of nothing else since discovering that his son would soon be home.
“There’s someone else that Chewie’s looking forward to seeing,” Han said.
“Mallatobuck. She still live here in Rwookrrorro?”
Kailabow’s formidable teeth flashed in a Wookiee grin and she nodded, human-style.
“She married?” Han asked, dreading the answer. He had some idea of how much that question meant to his best friend.
Kallabow’s grin widened, as slowly, deliberately, she shook her head, Han grinned back. “Whoo-hoo! That’s something to celebrate, I guess!”
Han felt a touch on his shoulder, and turned to find Katarra standing there, with yet another male Wookiee. To Han’s profound astonishment, the tall Wookiee opened his mouth and said, in amazingly understandable Wookiee, [Greetings, Captain Solo. I am Ralrracheen. Please call me Ralrra. We are honored, Han Solo, that you have come to Kashyyyk.] Han’s mouth dropped open with surprise. It had taken him years to learn to understand Wookiee speech, and he couldn’t pronounce it even after many efforts. And yet this Wookiee spoke in a fashion that Han could understand very easily—and could even have reproduced. “Hey!”
Han blurted. “How do you do that?”
[A speech impediment,] the Wookiee said. [Unfortunate for me when conversing with my own people, but, when humans visit Kashyyyk, it is useful.] “It sure is …. “Han muttered, still amazed.
With Ralrra’s help, Han and Katarra were able to begin negotiations over the cargo of explosive quarrels. [We need them desperately,] Ralrra said.
[But we are not asking for charity. We have something to trade for them, Captain.] “And what’s that?” Han wondered.
[Armor from Imperial stormtroopers,] Ralrra said. [My people began collecting it from soldiers who had no further use for it, first as trophies, then because we learned it was valuable. We have many suits and helmets.] Han thought about that. Stormtrooper armor was indeed made from valuable materials, and could be recycled as other kinds of body armor. It also could be chemically melted and then recast. “Like to take a look at it,” he said, “but we may have ourselves a trade there.” He shrugged. “Course .