"You sure the branch won't mind?" Aged Ralrra shook his head.

[It won't.]

Han got a two-handed grip on the handle, as one might a staff, so that the blade would point straight down. Activating it, he raised it over his head, then drove it down, almost vertically into the flattened area of the fallen limb. The tip of the energy blade struck the hardwood and began to burn through, producing a rich, fragrant smoke.

And when it had burned a hole deep enough to bury four or so centimeters of the pommel itself, Han switched it off, so that the handle stuck fast in the limb. Luke stepped forward.

"Should the need ever arise, it can be withdrawn by someone as virtuous as yourself, Chewbacca."

One by one the rest of them advanced to cover the area with leaves and vines, then they all returned to Rwookrrorro and spent the rest of the day indulging in the feast of food and drink the Wookiees had prepared.

By the time the sun was setting, the wind had picked up and the chimes were tingling without letup. Like the light, the laughter, too, was dying down, and Han noticed that Luke had become introspective.

"You okay?" Han asked.

Luke smiled lightly.

"Just thinking that it seems like yesterday we set out to find a place where you and Leia could take a vacation, and Mara could cure herself of the illness Nom Anor gave her."

Han nodded.

"And the day before that when you and I met in a cantina on Tatooine."

Luke looked at him.

"You've lost a son and a best friend, and the Jedi have been reduced by half their number. But the galaxy is more unified than it has been in generations. The years since the conclusion to the Civil War seem like an unavoidable period of transition to a present that no longer rings with uncertainty."

"There's a lot of things I'd probably do differently," Han said, "but I'm not complaining. It can be a fresh start-providing I can keep your sister from getting involved in politics."

"And providing I can keep you from adventuring," Leia interjected.

Han gestured to himself in false innocence.

"Hey, I don't have the time for adventuring. I've got a ship to rebuild-practically from the framework up."

"How many rebuilds will that make?" Luke asked.

Han grinned with secret knowledge.

"More than you know."

"Where are you going to perform this rebuild?" Mara asked.

"We checked out Denon-" Leia started to say.

"-but it's not for us," Han completed.

"Corellia?" Luke asked.

Han shook his head.

"Not the place it was."

"Han wants to go to the Corporate Sector," Leia said.

"We're long overdue for celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary, and I know some worlds there..."

He allowed his words to trail off, shook his head, and began to smile. Luke and Mara traded knowing glances.

"What would you say to having Mara, Ben, and me as company?" Luke said. "We're supposed to meet with Kam and some of the others on Ossus, but that's not for a couple of weeks."

"Ossus," Han said, "why that's practically next door to the CorpSec. No two ways about it, you've gotta join us."

[We promise not to get in the way,] someone said in Shyriiwook.

Han glanced to his right to see Waroo and Lowbacca approaching him.

[Now that the war has ended,] Chewie's son continued, [Lowie and I will be a.s.suming my father's life debt to you.]

Han's jaw dropped and his eyes went wide.

"But we're going on a vacation. And we've finally managed to convince Cakhmaim and Meewalh to take one themselves."

No one said a word until Leia broke the silence with an explosive chuckle, then out-loud laughter, which Luke, Mara, Jacen, Jaina, Ben, and the Wookiees were quick to amplify. Han tightened his lips and sent a scowl around the table. Then he, too, began to laugh, warmly and continuously, until tears were streaming down his cheeks and his sides started to ache. And gradually their bittersweet laughter floated from the wooden table, up past the lanterns, the wind chimes, and the thick branches from which they dangled, meandering up through the crowns of the tallest wroshyr trees and gliding weightless into the twilight sky, up, ever up into stars too numerous to count, defying the stillness of vacuum and dispersing, vectoring out across s.p.a.ce and time, as if destined to be heard in galaxies far, far away...