With them was R2-D2, the plug-shaped astromech who had variously served Luke and the Solos for decades, and the little droid made as many musical, wheetling noises of appreciation during their tour of the Solos’ new quarters as the humans made verbal comments.
Next to arrive, just a few minutes later, were Jacen and Ben. Led from room to room by C-3P0, Jacen made noncommittal noises about the antechamber, living chamber, master bedroom, bedrooms for Leia’s Noghri bodyguards Meewalh and Cakhmaim, guest bedrooms, library, refreshers, furnished balcony, kitchen, dining room, and communications center, all but the last decorated and furnished in warm-colored hardwoods, some with dark carpets and some with pebbled flooring. The communications center, where the majority of the household’s computers and electronics repair equipment was kept, was more modern, all steely surfaces and blue metal rolling racks.
Ben’s only comment was, “Where are the secret chambers?”
C-3P0 stopped short and leaned awkwardly to look at the boy-man. “I don’t quite understand, young sir.”
“C’mon.” Ben grinned up at the droid-not far up, as he’d grown centimeters since the last time he’d seen the protocol droid. “Uncle Han is a smuggler. I bet this place is stuffed with secret chambers. They’ll all have blasters in them. Some of them will have identicards in fake names, and credcards, and secret electronics gear, and maybe a disassembled scoutspeeder. Some of them will be hidey-holes for the Noghri.”
C-3P0’s voice was stiff, even for the droid. “I can assure you, sir, that there are no secret chambers.”
“Aha!” Ben held up an accusative finger. He sounded as though he’d just found the essential clue to solve a murder. “I can assure you isn’t the same thing as There are no. C’mon, Threepio, say it. Say ‘There are no secret chambers.’ “
“I can assure you, sir, that there-“
“Aha!”
The droid shot Jacen a look that, a far as Jacen could interpret droid body language, looked hurt. “I say, sir, must every generation of Solos and Skywalkers act like this?”
Jacen nodded. “Pretty much, yes.”
In the living chamber, as C-3P0 held out his carefully arrayed tray of geometrically shaped cheeses and fungus crackers to Mara, Leia said, “Jaina just called in. She and Zekk are just a few minutes out.”
Han straightened, irritably, on the couch. “And Zekk. Who, may I ask, invited Zekk? He’s not family.”
Luke and Mara managed to say “Not yet” simultaneously.
Han glared at them.
“I invited him,” Leia said. “Just now. Otherwise, he would have gone off to the Temple, been alone in whatever tiny chamber they gave him, been eating bland Jedi cafeteria food, all alone-“
“While rain poured on his head wherever he moved and sad synthesized music filled the hallways.” Han shot her a scornful look.
Leia merely smiled at him, the maddening smile of a politician who won’t be budged from her position. “Han, he’s her partner. Her Jedi partner. If he were her, say, smuggling partner, would you send him off?”
“Depends on how he looks at her. Y’see, here’s the problem. A father’s got a right to terrorize any young bantha who’s following his daughter around.”
Leia shook her head. “Jaina says they’re friends. Just friends.”
Han’s scowl deepened and became almost comic. “Jaina’s got herself blinded. It’s got to be one of those Force abilities-they say the Force can have a profound effect on people who don’t want to believe the truth.”
Luke snorted. “No, they don’t.”
“Anyway, it’s my right to scare Zekk out of his hide, but Zekk’s a Jedi. He doesn’t scare easily. So what do I do?” Han considered, then looked around. In corners of the room, motionless, inconspicuous, stood Leia’s bodyguards, Meewalh and Cakhmaim, members of the Noghri species-gray-skinned, no taller than R2-D2, shrouded in concealing cloaks. Like hold-out blasters, they were small, hard to detect, and deadly. “Maybe We could get Meewalh and Cakhmaim to rattle him.”
“Give it up, Han,” Mara suggested. “Leia, I like your quarters.”
“Thanks.” Leia settled on the couch beside her sulky husband. “It’s really nice to have someplace that’s permanent, not the hotel of the month, or quarters aboard some political ship, or the living compartment on the Falcon. It’s the first place we’ve been able to really call home since Coruscant fell.” A shadow crossed her face. Coruscant had fallen to the Yuuzhan Vong at almost the same time the Solos’ youngest son, Anakin, had died. Those had been dark times.