Who Cares About Her Bloodline, Anyway?

Theron, 28 ABY

Han Solo finished the last of the preliminary rounds of the Five Sabers, exhausted but satisfied after an exhilarating race. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he locked his black racer down for the night and sauntered through the hanger. A convenient outdoor walkway connected the spaceport with his hotel. All he wanted right now was a long hot shower and a soft bed to collapse on. But when the hanger doors opened with a whoosh, a wall of sound and light assailed Han: paparazzi.

"Had you suspected it all along?"

"Are you going to leave your wife?"

"Was she right to lie to us?"

"Have you talked to Senator Organa today? What's her mood?"

"Do you think she should resign?"

"Why should we vote for her?"

"Do you feel betrayed by her?"

Han Solo wasn't sure whether to be angry or just bewildered at the crush of beings yelling crazy questions at him. He'd obviously missed more than a little bit of today's news cycle while he was finishing the sublight relay round. He considered making a run for it, but the reporters seemed to outnumber him a hundred to one. The odds didn't look good. So instead he tried his best crooked smile and a nonchalant tone of voice.

"Hey, gentlebeings," he drawled. "A pleasant evening to you all. Now what the hell are you talking about?"

There was a moment of shocked silence, as all the journalists simultaneously realized Solo really didn't know the story had broken. Then the cacophony began anew.

"Did you know Darth Vader was your wife's father?"

"When did she tell you about her parentage?"

"How does it feel to have a Sith as a father-in-law?"

"Do you think your wife is at all like Vader?"

Oh, shit, Han thought. Poor Leia. Shitshitshit. The smile faded. An unreadable Sabaac face replaced the lopsided grin, and stayed plastered on Han's face for the rest of the press conference.

There was obviously no chance they were going to leave him in peace or let him run through the crowd, so he swallowed hard and plunged in. "Hey, remember when we dedicated that huge statue of Bail Organa on Hosnian Prime a few weeks ago? That's my wife's father. That guy. He and Queen Breha raised her; those are her parents."

One human reporter piped up, sympathy in her eyes. "But she was adopted."

"That's a matter of public record," Han nodded. "She was adopted at birth. The Organas never kept that a secret. But she was crowned princess, and the people of Alderaan always accepted her as theirs. As for her biological parents, whoever they were, I don't see how it's relevant to anything."

More shouts erupted. Indignation warred with disbelief. "Not relevant?" cried one reporter shrilly. "It's not relevant that we almost elected the closest relative of Vader to be our First Senator?"

" 'Whoever they were'? Are you suggesting she's not Vader's daughter?" said another. "She confirmed it in the middle of the Senate floor. Are you saying you wife lied?"

She confirmed it publically? What the hell? Han changed tack and went on the offensive. "There are millions of children in this galaxy who are orphaned or abandoned or neglected, and if they're very, very lucky, they find generous adults willing to take them in and love them as their own. And you want to tell all those adopted families that their bonds aren't good enough, that they're not 'real' parents? Leia Organa is a child of Alderaan. She thinks like an Alderaanian royal. She was taught to put the interests of her people first, House Organa second, herself last. And she's spent her entire life—her entire life—doing just that, fighting for your rights, your freedom, your government. So do I think she's like her parents? You bet I do. She works every single day on behalf of the people of this galaxy, so, yeah, Bail and Breha would be pretty damn proud of her."

Han paused for breath as the cameras whirred and the paparazzi adjusted their cameras for the best angle.

A furry Bothan reporter spoke up. "General Solo, when did you find out about her true parentage?"

"The day after she did. During the Rebellion." He tried to sound casual.

"It didn't bother you?"

Han shrugged and sighed. "Well, it bothered me that it bothered her. She was torn apart by the news. But look, I never…when I met her, she was nineteen, all right? And everyone bowed down to her, and called her Your Highness and Princess and Senator and all of that. I just couldn't. I didn't care about her purple blood at all." Under his breath, he added, "Which is probably why she fell for me." The reporters were silent now, seeing a possible romantic angle for their next story. Solo continued. "I fell in love with her character, her mind and her heart, not the money or titles. I thought her parents were aristocrats, but I never cared. A couple of years later, when I found out she wasn't born a princess, I still didn't care. I just liked the girl."

The paparazzi knew a good soundbite when they heard one. "Do you still 'like the girl'?"

Han broke his Sabaac face to offer the cameras a smile—a sincere one. "Oh, yeah, I still like her. More every day."

"Enough to lie for her?"

Han threw that reporter a sardonic look. "Lie to you guys? Sure. But I don't need to."

"But you two lied about her parentage."

"No, we didn't. You just never asked. Why don't you go check out Casterfo and the rest of the Centrists, see if there are any weird branches in their family trees? Everyone's got something." The journalists looked at each other. Good idea for next week's headline.

"Senator Organa's approval rating has dropped to single digits. Do you think she should resign from the Senate, or do you think she should continue her campaign?"

If Leia had just retired from the Senate like she'd planned to, Han thought regretfully, this wouldn't be happening right now. She'd wanted to leave public office, until the idea of a powerful First Senator was proposed and she'd been pressured into running for the position. But even if Leia had wanted to resign before this blew up, maybe she would change her mind now. She was always one to fight back when provoked.

In response to the journalist's question, Han just said, "I don't know. It's up to her."

"You haven't even discussed it with her?"

"Guys," he pleaded with strained patience, "I've been racing for the last day and a half. No comm. I haven't talked to her at all. If she wants to resign, she will. If she wants to stay in the Senate and fight, she'll do that."

"She's your wife. What choice will you tell her to make?" That question came from a reporter from M'Haeli, a planet not known for its sense of gender equality.

Han smirked. "You obviously don't know anything about Leia Organa. Or her relationship with me. I don't tell her to do anything. And I really don't have an opinion on this one, but I tell you, if she leaves the Senate, the galaxy will have lost a great defender. The government is much, much better off with her in it."

A Twi'lek spoke up. "You don't think the citizens of this Republic have had enough of Vader? You don't have a problem with his spawn being in charge of the government?"

His spawn? Punching him is probably not the best course of action here, Han thought darkly. He reined in his anger and said curtly, "Nobody seemed to have a problem with her being in charge when she was saving your ungrateful asses from the Empire." This earned him a mixture of laughs and disapproving tsk-tsks.

The M'Haelian had another question. "Is the confusion about her parentage the reason that your wife never took your last name?"

Solo rolled his eyes. "No," he said succinctly. "There's no 'confusion.' She's the Princess of Alderaan, and the last member of House Organa; she's honoring her family by keeping that name."

Follow-up questions were shouted out on top of each other. "Is she ashamed of her real family?"

"Do you consider yourself part of her family, Captain?"

"Don't you think of her as a Skywalker?"

"Should we start calling her Senator Vader?"

Han was too far away to reach that last reporter's jaw with his fist. Lucky for the reporter. Instead, Solo shot him a fierce look, pointed straight at him, and warned, "Not if you don't want your face rearranged, buddy."

"Who is her family, then, Captain? Do you not consider her bloodline important at all?"

"Frankly, no. Kids are shaped by whoever raises them, which is why, as I said, Leia Organa thinks like an Organa. But you know, we grow up, and the people we consider our 'family' changes. Some die, some leave, some are born or marry in, and I guess whoever sticks around, that's the family you end up with. And for me, that means Leia, our son, Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca."

"What about your own parents, Captain?"

"Nope, never knew 'em. And they're as unimportant as her birth parents are."

"So you do see her twin brother Luke as part of her true family?"

Han shrugged. "He is her biological relative, yeah, but we thought of him as a brother before we knew that. And Chewbacca, by the way, is not actually related to me, despite some superficial, uh, similarities." In truth, Luke and Leia did share a unique, Force-driven bond, but Han wasn't about to mention that. If he could just keep all references to the Jedi out of this conference, he'd call it a success.

"Captain, if I may change the subject?" asked another journalist.

"Oh, please do."

"Did the Princess tell you that Vader was her father before or after getting pregnant? And would you have had a child with her if you had known?"

Ben. Han's heart constricted. This wasn't how he was supposed to find out. He tried to maintain his neutral Sabaac face, but couldn't hide the pain in his eyes. He turned away from the cameras and began to push through the crowd towards his hotel. "I'm done here," he called to the throng of reporters.

"Is that a sore spot for you?"

"How did your son take the news?"

"Is he proud of his family?"

Han Solo ignored them all. He was thinking of only two people in the galaxy, two people he wanted desperately to wrap up in a fierce embrace and protect from all the vultures, mynocks and monsters surrounding them.

Is Ben proud of his family? The last reporter's question echoed in Han's mind as he broke into a run. Will he be proud of his family when he hears this? Hopefully Luke's with him when he hears the news. Luke would be able to break it to him gently, maybe even explain that tangled mess named Anakin Skywalker.

We kept this from him from twenty-three years. Too long, maybe.

Will Ben still admire us when he finds out?