Jas nods and steps up to Norra. "Stay safe, Norra."

"Be good, Jas."

"A little good. But not too good."

She says her goodbyes, too, with Sinjir and Jom. It hits her, suddenly-the overwhelming feeling that she might not see these people again. Her darkest thought is also the loudest: Staying behind and trying to liberate Kashyyyk is a suicide mission.

Everything's so dizzying, and it's hard to cut through the pain in her side and see her way through to what has happened, but one shining moment is bright enough to manage: Norra's sitting there in the pilot's seat of the Falcon feeling like a stranger in someone else's house. Her son is next to her, acting as copilot. And then, Brentin comes up behind them.

He kisses the top of his son's head.

He kisses Norra's cheek.

He leans on them both-one hand on her shoulder, another on Temmin's shoulder-and as Norra brings the Falcon out of hyperspace, Chandrila rushing into view, he laughs a little.

"It's amazing," he says.

"Amazing?" she asks, a little cheekily.

"Things have changed. And I hate that I missed it. But look at the two of you! Norra, you're a pilot. Temmin, you are, too. The Rebel Alliance won and...I'm not happy I missed all that, but I'm happy to see what you both became." His voice shakes when he says, "I feel like I woke up from sleep and the galaxy moved on without me."

"We didn't move on," Temmin says.

Norra rubs the top of her husband's hand. That hand is trembling just so. "Tem's right. You were missing from us, but now we're a family again and nothing can change that," she says, convincing even herself. "Things will feel weird for a while but that's okay. We'll get past it. For now, though, can you check on everyone back there? Let them know we'll soon be clear to land?"

"I will," he says, and then adds: "I love you guys."

"We love you, too," Temmin says.

As Brentin heads back, Norra and her son exchange looks. She remarks to herself just how happy the boy looks. In fact, she can't remember the last time she's seen that look on his face. He's beaming, bright as a sun.

"Let's go home," Temmin says.

Norra transmits clearance codes to Chandrila tower control.

- The Falcon descends.

The ship is crammed full of people. Temmin works his way through the back of the craft, talking to them all as he passes. "You're free from the Empire," he tells an Ithorian woman pressed into the back corner. She murmurs gratitude at him. "We're landing now," he says to a young Rodian whose face is marred with a meshwork of scars. "It's gonna be okay," he assures a barrel-bellied man in rebel army raiment.

At the back of the ship, through the throng of bodies, Temmin finds his father doing the same thing. Assuring the others. Holding their hands. Embracing them. Some weep. Some laugh. Excitement is present like a static charge in the air.

"Dad," Temmin says.

"Son," Brentin says.

"MASTER TEMMIN'S FATHER," Mister Bones says, suddenly interjecting himself between the two. He reaches out with two claw arms and mashes father and son together. Their heads bonk. "THIS PRECIOUS MOMENT MUST BE SEALED BY A HUG: A LOVING YET VIOLENT ENTANGLEMENT OF BODIES WHEREIN ONE PERSON GRABS ANOTHER WITH GREAT FORCE AND SQUEEZES, BUT NOT SO HARD THAT THEIR EYES RUPTURE FROM THEIR-"

"Bones," Temmin says sharply. "Shh."

"ROGER-ROGER."

Brentin stares on with goggling eyes. "The old B1. You repaired him already?"

"Yep."

"Just with the supplies from the Falcon?"

Temmin hears some awe in his father's voice.

"Yeah."

"You take after me."

Temmin grins big. "Yeah."

- A crowd has gathered on the landing platform as the Millennium Falcon swoops in low, easing downward.

News traveled fast and wide: Not only is Han Solo's ship returning, but it's bringing with it a bevy of prisoners, many of whom haven't been seen since the earliest days of the Rebel Alliance. Some family members have gathered, as have others from that era who are eager to see if they can welcome the return of friends, comrades, and loved ones.

Those gathered cheer and whoop.

Two of those gathered are about to be disappointed. They will arguably be the only two truly disappointed-and each will feel this disappointment keenly, and starkly in contrast with what must be an otherwise triumphant, happy-making day.

Those two are Leia Organa and Wedge Antilles.

Wedge stands there with flowers. Nothing too big or ostentatious-the strange little woman at the Hanna City greenhouse tried to get him to carry a bouquet as big as his chest and full of all the colors of the rainbow, but he said that wasn't Norra's style. Instead, he went with something understated. Simple, but elegant: six sun-dew flowers. Beautiful, yes. But they last. Firm stems and resilient petals. They don't wilt. They smell beautiful.

And they're as golden to him as Norra is.

Leia, for her part, has brought no gift but herself. She beams, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The Falcon is returning.

And with it, her husband must surely be returning, too.

"This is a good day," she tells Wedge over the din of the crowd.

"It sure is," he answers.

The Falcon eases down onto the platform, rocking on its landing gear. The plank descends, and through the hiss of steam come the freed captives. Dozens of them, each meeting guards as they come off, guards who usher them through a receiving line where they meet Ackbar and Mon Mothma. They aren't forced to dwell; they're directed to a series of transports lined up at the edge of the platform. Transports that will take them to the Senate Plaza, where the chancellor has food and a medical tent and officers waiting to perform interviews of those returning.

The captives keep coming, off-loading one after the other.

Leia must know that Han and Chewie will be among the last off.

Wedge knows this, too, about Norra.

And then, Norra does step off the ship-Temmin just ahead of her, and the clanking droid Bones just ahead of him. Temmin is happy, happier than Wedge has seen the kid. He's about to call to the boy, about to say, Hey, Snap, over here, but then he sees the man next to Norra.

He doesn't know who the man is, but...

The man has his arm around Norra.

He kisses her cheek.

She kisses his lips.

It clicks into place pretty quick-clicking like a thermal detonator set to blow. And blow, it does. Right inside Wedge's chest. The realization that Norra found her husband robs his lungs of air.

He looks to Leia, and he sees her searching face. And he watches the moment, too, when Norra and her husband are last off, and the Falcon closes up after nobody else gets off.

"He didn't come home," Leia says.

"I know," Wedge answers. "I'm sorry."

"He's still out there."

"I'm sure Han is all right-"

"I'm sure he is, too. I trust him." But the way she says it, Wedge isn't so sure. "I have to talk to Norra, though. I have to find out what happened."

"Maybe give her just a little time. It looks like she brought home someone special to her."

Leia smiles despite her certain disappointment. "It does, at that."

With the Halo, Jas got them out of what the Wookiees called the Black Forest-an area of the world that had long been dead. Dead for millennia, they said, a place poisoned by "something real bad happening here. Something that left a darkness. Like an imprint in wet concrete." At least, that's how Solo translated it. Jom doesn't speak Shyriiwook, so that means relying on the smuggler as the go-between.

Working with Solo on this has been interesting. Chewbacca the Wookiee is the man's copilot. His sidekick, of a sort. At least, that's how Jom had always heard it. The two were inseparable, but Solo was the pilot and Chewie was the copilot and so would it always be.

But here on Kashyyyk, the roles are reversed.

Chewie's in charge. He leads the way.

And the real surprise is, Solo follows. He lets the Wookiee set the course. He offers insight, but it's deferential. And if anybody says boo to Chewie's ideas, Solo's first on the line to get snappy about it.

Once Jas got them out of the Black Forest, Chewie had the ship fly low to the ground along a white-rapids river that had carved a channel between massive trees. Solo said that he and Chewie had been collecting intel on Kashyyyk for years. Jom protested, said that by now the data was probably out of date and the on-the-ground intel was more important. Solo bit back: "No kidding, commando. But what we got is good, and unless you got better, I suggest you shut your mustache hole."

Sinjir chuckled and said: "Mustache hole. I'll have to write that one down."

"Quiet, Sinjir," Jom said.

Jas just snickered from the pilot's seat.

(Which, Jom admits now, hurt him more than he expected.) The river roared down over a tumble of broken trees, down into a dammed-up reservoir ringed by shattered trees. Chewie had Jas bring the Halo up over that waterfall and park it atop on a wroshyr branch-right where the branch met the tree. Jom didn't think the galaxy had trees big enough for the branches to support a whole ship, but he's happy to be proven wrong. Together, they all go out along the branch-there exists plenty of space to walk, though vertigo still plucks at Jom's strings and he can't help but wonder how long it would take to hit the ground if you fell.

Solo goes on to explain Chewie's plan: "This is a big planet and best anybody can tell, the Imperial occupation is dug in like a bloodworm-maybe dug in harder given the shoddy state of affairs after the Death Star went boom. But Chewie's got an idea, don't you, buddy?"

The Wookiee nods and growl-barks a reply. The one-armed Wookiee, Greybok, gestures with his remaining hand in apparent agreement.

"We can't free this planet by our lonesome," Han says, "much as we'd like to. We've been lucky in that regard before, but this time, no go."

Chewie grumbles.

"That's right," Solo says. "We need an army."

Jas leans in. "I work lean. I don't work with armies."

"Too bad," Solo says.

"Give us a target. Find us the dragon's head and we'll cut it off and watch the planet fall."

"Won't be that easy. Sure, the planet's under the governance of one man: Lozen Tolruck. But he's got three Star Destroyers up there and intel says he's hidden away in an island fortress. He's a target, though, because he's the one in charge of the inhibitor chips."

"What?" Jom asks.

"Every Wookiee on this planet has a chip stuck in their heads. Keeps 'em docile-anytime they act out, the chips fry them with pain until they fall back in line or die. We take out the chips, we give the Wookiees their minds back. But they'll still be locked away in settlements. We kill the control chips and liberate just one big settlement and we have the army we need to free the rest. To do that, we need more information."

Sinjir cracks his knuckles and winks. "I can handle that part."

"You still need to start somewhere," Jom says.

"There," Solo says, pointing down past the massive dam and reservoir. Tucked between two fallen trees is a command installation: an Imperial cinder block plunked down into the rich, loamy soil.

Jom grabs a pair of quadnocs and focuses in.

As he does, Solo keeps talking.

"That command station is going to have computers and officers. And that means intel. They can tell us where Tolruck's settlement is. They can point us to the most vulnerable settlement. But that means we gotta go in hot. We take the Halo, fly in fast with the cannons blazing-"

"Slow up," Jom interrupts. He pulls the quadnocs away from his eyes and says: "I see four ground-to-sky turbolasers down there. You fly the Halo in and she'll get blasted into cinders."

"Kavis-tha," Jas says, cursing at him. She spits on the ground. "You saying I can't handle my own ship? I'll stay clear of those lasers easy, Barell. You haven't seen half of what I can do."

"Fine. Let's say you manage." He lifts his chin in defiance. "They'll still see you coming a kilometer away. That gives them plenty of time to mount a proper defense or even escape. We can't see on the other side of that station. They might have a couple of chicken walkers or an escape shuttle waiting."

"Oh, you have a better idea?" she challenges.

"Slaggin' right I do. Send me down. On the ground. Two-prong approach: I take a couple of these hairballs-"

"Watch it," Solo says.

"Sorry. I take a couple of these noble warriors, and we sneak in and hit 'em hard. We shut down whatever defenses we can, and only then do the rest of you come blasting in with the Halo."

"I like it," Solo says. "You can take out those turbolasers."

"That's the plan."

Jas grabs his arm. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure thing, Emari."