Fairy Tales Nicole Medina The origins of the name Han Solo, from a child's point of view E-mail: [email protected] Disclaimer: This story is based on concepts, characters, and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No infringement is intended. No money is being made off of this. Feel free to distribute this intact, but please let me know if you wish to put it on a website (Now why would you want to do that?) This piece has a few of my theories on who Han's parents were, and, of course, my theory of the name 'Suul' and 'Solo' which is talked about in COPL. E-mail me at: [email protected] or look at my webpage, http://members.tripod.com/~medina_3/corusca.html Fairy Tales By Nicole Medina For Renee- a sister, best friend, and faithful editor. Thanks for everything. "Even a minor event in the life of a child is an event of that child's world and thus a world event." Gaston Bachelard Part One The morning sun crept over the hills on the outskirts of Coronet. The heavy black cloak of night slowly receded, the pale sun tentatively peering over the city. At her golden touch sentients began to stir, and the streets were filled with the increasing number of whispers from the land speeders. With an increased boldness, the sun rose higher, soft petals of light floating down to her children below. Inside the kitchen, a golden ray of light filtered through the heavy veil of the tree. The small beams of light danced merrily across the floor as the tree swayed with the morning breeze. A beam danced up the table leg and slid onto the table. "Gotcha." The boy whispered, clapping his hands over the trickle of gold. The light playfully bounced out of his hands and onto the table. He threw his hands over the spot, admiring it as it lit his hands up in a warm wash of gold. "Han!" The boy jerked his head up and smiled his mother standing at the counter. "You better eat your breakfast. You'll be late for school." Han Suul smiled and diligently picked up his spoon. Staring at the gray mush he twisted his face in disgust. "Why do I have to eat oatmeal?" He said, sticking out his tongue in disgust at the puddle. Slowly he lifted up the spoon and watched the lumps tricked back down into the blob. They melted back into the rest of the puddle silently. "It'll stick to your ribs and help you grow." His mother said walking over to the table. "You want to be a big boy, don't you?" Han nodded his head vigorously. "Yup! I wanna be really tall!" There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to reach up and touch the celling someday. Then he would be big enough to pilot, his constant dream "Like you, Dad!" He added. His father glanced over the old fashioned paper he was reading. "You better start eating then. You have long ways to go." "And you, Gentle Suul," Ma turned to Dad with her arms crossed. "You better eat your oatmeal too. Or else." Ma waved the butter knife she was holding threateningly. "Oh no!" Dad said with mock horror written across his face. "Oh no! Tasya's got a knife!" Mirth sparked in his dark blue eyes, the corners crinkling with amusement. Han started to giggle. He couldn't imagine his Ma ever doing any thing mean. "I'm not eating my oatmeal either." He shoved his bowl away. "Oh, Jonash, look what you've done. You're creating a bad example." Ma sighed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "But it tastes bad." Han made a disgusted face at the sight of the gray mush. "Your face'll freeze like that someday, Han." Ma warned. "Really?" Han said curiously. He picked up his spoon and squinted at his distorted reflection. "Wow, I'll be a monster!" He said happily. "Monsters don't eat oatmeal." He declared, pushing the bowl away. "You're right Han." Dad leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratory whisper. "It's toxic waste that'll turn you into a real monster." Han's eyes shot up and he picked up his spoon and eagerly shoveled the mush down his throat. The spoon clattered against the empty bowl as the dredges were picked off the rim. He looked up at his father with a grin plastered over his face. "I can feel it working already." "There has got to be a better way to get him to eat." Ma sighed, looking at his father. "I have my ways." Dad leaned back in his chair causally, with a lopsided grim plastered over his face. "You rogue." "You Jedi." Han giggled. Ma and Dad always liked to tease each other. Dad always liked to tease Ma about her Force powers. He didn't understand what the Force was, but it was fun to watch his mother absently turn off the mannual lights without stirring from her seat. He didn't know what a rogue was, but if Dad was one, he wanted to be one too. Dad's bowl of oatmeal slid to him as if pulled by an invisible string. "You eat it, Jonash. I made it myself. Without the mix." Dad slowly stirred the mixture with disgust. "I see." "Jonash!" Ma laughed and hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Stop it!" Dad grinned crookedly. "Do you need a bantha ride?" He asked, devilishly. Han knew his mother hated it when Dad would throw her over his shoulder like a sack of rice and carry her around the house. He didn't understand why. "I do! I do!" Han shouted, bouncing out of his seat. "Dad! Can I have a bantha ride to my room? Please?" He asked, his hazel eyes pleading. Dad grinned crookedly and scooped Han up easily and swung him up on his shoulders, Han shrieking with delight. The stone floor was very far down from here, he noticed as he clutched his father's dark brown hair for his safety. Dad would never ever let him drop, he thought. But he still held on tightly, the fear of falling haunting his mind silently in a far corner. Dad charged down the hallway, the old floorboards creaking with his thunderous step. Han laughed and ducked his head for the doorway; he was so high up. Reaching a hand up, the rough stone of the celling bit his hand as it brushed he brushed by it. Suddenly, he was falling, falling, falling. He let out a gasp before he fell into the secure arms of his father, who then put him on the floor of his room. Han giggled. Dad always tried to scare him by letting him think that he would fall. "Thanks Dad." "Sure thing, Han. I'll don't have run to day. Do you want to see the _Star Streak_ again after school?" He offered. "Yeah!" Han shouted, his eyes wide with the thought. His father's ship, the _Star Streak_, was the fastest ship in the galaxy, as his father always told him. She was a Corellian freighter, nearly brand new. She gleamed when she sat on her pad, shinning with a pearly aura that made him think of his mother's jewelry. Han loved the ship, hoping that someday, he would have a ship just like it. Or better yet: perhaps his father would let him have the _Star Streak_ some day. "O.K" Dad grinned and glanced at his chrono. "You'd better get your stuff. Lando's going to be here any minute." As if on key there was a knock on the door. Han could hear the door open. "Good morning Lando." He could hear his mother's voice. "Han's getting ready." Han scooped up his school supplies and shoved them into his backpack. "I'm ready!" He bellowed and raced down the hall, the floorboards groaning. "I'm ready!" Skidding to a stop on the kitchen's slick floor, he stood on his toes and gave his mother a kiss. "Have a good day at school." She instructed him as gave him a kiss back. "I will!" Han said cheerily. "School's always fun!" He ran over to his father and gave him a quick kiss too. "See you after school Dad!" He yelled as he threw open the apartment's door and slammed it shut. Lando Calrissian leaned against the wall, following a bug's weaving path across the redstone. "Ready to make the jump to hyperspace? He asked, poising himself at the edge of the stairs. "Count down at three...two...one hit it!" Han bellowed. At his last words, they both leaped off the edge and clattered down the flight of stairs. At the same time they burst out of the building into the bright morning light. "I beat you!" Lando boasted, panting to recover his breath. "Not true!" Han protested. "I won!" "No, I won!" Lando declared. "I beat you by a zillion pareses!" "But it's no fair!" Han whined as they walked down the wide street that rimmed the plaza. In the grass, a flock of birds landed and snatched up the insects scurrying in the dirt. "You have longer legs than me!" "Yup!" Lando said proudly. "And you're short! You'll be a shrimp for your whole life!" He laughed. Han gave Lando a hard shove that sent him staggering off to the side. "Stop it! You'll mess up my clothes!" He yelped. Han finally took notice of his friend's apparel. "Hey-you're wearing a blanket!" He howled in laughter. "It's not a blanket!" He yelled, smoothing it down. It was a dark blue fabric, held with a pin under his chin. "It's a cape. My dad says that it's highly fashionable." He sniffed. "My dad has a ship." Han boasted. "It's the fastest ship in the galaxy. She made the Kettle Run in 13 parsecs. That's the record." He said proudly. "My dad says your dad's nothing but a dirty, good for nothing pirate." Lando shot back fiercly "My dad say that your dad's a no good swindler and a cheat at cards." Han said, doing the best to imitate his father with a cocky, crooked grin. "That's not true!" Lando bellowed. He glared at Han angrily. Abruptly, he gave him a hard shove. "You're it!" He yelled and sprinted away, his cape fluttering behind him. "No fair!" Han yelled out as the cape melted into the crowd. "No fair!" He took off, weaving through the crowd, ignoring their angry protests. He slammed into an old woman's shopping bag, causing her to fall forward. "Hey!" She screeched as he ran by. " Watch where you're going, kid!" Ignoring the woman, Han kept his eye on Lando as he dodged through the crowd. He watched with dismay as he skidded the corner. "No fair!" Han cried out, wishing the words would bring him back. After the corner, there was a small stretch and then Lando would be at school. The thought of the humiliation shot through him. He could imagine Lando's teasing. Han Suul. The It. An idea flashed in his mind and Han grinned. He turned and dashed up the stone step to the library with some effort and pushed the heavy door open. Inside, the cool air powerfully brushed him as he ran across the floor. His shoes resounded in the silent building. A librarian squawked out in protest, but Han paid no heed as he ran out the other door. Now he was on the other side of the street, probably a minute ahead of Lando, thanks to the library. With a grin, he dove into the heavy cover of the pacta bushes. Lando would be here soon. He started to laugh, unable to control his laughter. Clamping his hand over his mouth, he could hear the sound of running footsteps. Giggling, he readied himself at he edged of the trees. Through the heavy veil, he could see the blue cape. He got ready to spring and... "Raaghhh!" Han yelled as he pounced out of the bushes. "Yaaah!" Lando screamed as the figure leaped out of the bushes right at him. Han hit Lando and knocked him down heavily to the permacrete. "Ow!" He yelled. "You're It now!" Han cried out jubilantly. When Lando didn't move, he grinned and repeated himself. "You're It now!" "That hurt!" Lando shouted as he slowly picked himself up. "Lookit!" He cried at the sight of his elbow. A small scarlet rivulet flowed from a scrape. "I got a boo-boo!" He wailed. Han bit his lip. He hadn't meant for that to happen. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." "And look!" He cried out. "My cape is all torn up!" He displayed the rip in his cape. "It's ruined!" "I'm sorry." He said lamely. "You better be, Han Suul!" Lando screamed. "You're very, very bad!" Part Two "Good morning class." Miss Kanah smiled to the class. Her neatly pressed dress was crisp and her hair was tied back neatly. Despite her height, she fit in perfectly in the miniature classroom. Light flooded the colorful room was a soft breeze floated in through the open windows. In the distance, a kujuu bird sang melodiously. "I'm so glad everyone came today. Let's start off our day with the Corellian pledge. Who would like to be a leader?" Han slumped down in his seat as a sea of hands waved in the air. "Me! Me! Pick me Teacher!" They cried. Han couldn't stop thinking about Lando's words. For the rest of the way to school, Lando didn't say anything and just glared at Han. Even when Han offered to be It. Was he really bad? Teacher gazed around the room, as the class wildly waved their hands. Her eyes settled on a figure. "Why, Han. Why aren't you raising your hand? What ever is the matter?" She asked, concern in her warm brown eyes. "I-" Han started to open his mouth, but saw Lando's vicious glare. He didn't really feel like saying anything in front of him. He closed his mouth and gulped, feeling the hot stare of the entire class. Their eyes bored into him like a drill. "I...I...I can't remember it!" He wailed. Teacher rushed over to his side and patted him on the back. "There, there, Han." She comforted him. "You don't have to cry. You can listen to Lando, and then it'll all come back to you." Han sniffed, as he nodded his head, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Teacher led Lando up to the front of the class. Lando stared off loudly and the rest of the class joined in, Han mumbling the words quietly. Teacher smiled at her students. "Class, this is our new letter of the day." She displayed a big letter red B she had neatly printed. "Can you all say B-eee?" Teacher drawled out the letter B. "Beeee!" The class trilled enthusiastically. "Who know what starts with the letter B-eeee?" "Bantha!" "Banana!" "Baby!" "Bandage!" Lando glanced down at his yellow bandage. "Bad." He said looking directly at Han. * * * After snack time and the last crumb was placed in the garbage or hidden under backpacks, Teacher instructed everyone to gather in a circle of story time. A rough ring formed around Teacher as the children sat on the prickly carpet. Han stayed as far away from Lando as possible. "Now, class, this is a fairy tale." Teacher said in her quiet story telling voice. "We don't know where this story came from, but it's a wonderful fairy tale." She picked up the book and showed the class the brightly painted cover, which depicted a boy and a girl in front of a gaudy house. "This story's name is 'Hansel and Gretal.' " Lando let out a loud laugh, interrupting the anxious silence. The class whirled around to stare at Lando. "Han Suul!" He laughed, slurring the name together. "Hansel! Han Suul!" The class roared in laughter and Han's face turned red. Teacher hushed the class down and gave Lando a hard look. "Lando. We don't make fun of other people in this class. Now apologize." "Sorry, Han Suul." A few snickered lightly, but were silence easily by Teacher's stern face. When she was sure she had her class' attention, she began the story. "Once upon a time..." * * * Teacher finished the story, and the class, thought about the whimsical candy house and the evil which. "Are there any questions?" Teacher asked quietly. When the class shook their heads she smiled. "It's break time. You can go to the playground now. When we come back, we'll have a short assignments, and then it'll be time to go home." The class rose in a single motion, eager to play outside in the bright morning sun. People called for the bouncy balls and skip ropes that Teacher kept in the play shed as they charged out the door for their recess. Blinking in the bright light, Han walked towards the water fountain in the corner of the play field. Pressing on a coppery button, a spray of water shot up, glistening in the light. It was almost warm season, and it was getting hot. "Hey, Han Suul!" A voice ripped his thoughts. "Leave some for the fishes!" Han whirled around angrily to be face to face with Lando. A few boys behind him tittered at his quip. "But I guess you must be pretty thirsty, since that witch didn't feed you much." He sneered. "Stop it. Stop making fun of my name." Han glared at Lando. "But Han Suul is you name, isn't it?" Lando reasoned. "So, how's your sister Gretal, Han Suul?" "Stop making fun of me or I'll tell Teacher!" He threatened, ready to make good on his word. "What will she do?" Lando's voice was rough. "Will she lock me up and try to eat me, Han Suul?" The boys laughed behind him. Lando felt a surge of power at their laughter. Growing more confident, he looked down at Han and leered cruelly. "Were you the brilliant one who decided to leave bread crumbs, Han Suul? Huh, Han Suul?" He taunted sarcastically. Han gave Lando a shove. He staggered a few feet and grinned at his gang. "Did you see that? Han Suul's trying to be tough. You had to have a girl rescue you from that witch's house, didn't you Han Suul?" "Stop it now!" Han stomped his foot in anger. "Stop it now!" Lando mimed his action and Han's lisp surprisingly well. Lando's teeth flashed brilliantly like a canoids. "Han Suul and Gretal. Han Suul. Han Suul and Gretal." "Han Suul. Han Suul and Gretal. Han Suul and Gretal." The other boys joined in the chant as they formed a circle around Han. "STOP IT!" Han bellowed. "Han Suul! Han Suul! Han Suul!" The chant increased in speed. "Han Suul! Han Suul!" Suddenly, Han punched Lando hard across the face. He staggered back and put his hand over his nose. His eyes watered up and he screamed out "Teacher! Teacher! Han Suul punched me!" Part Three Jonash Suul leaned back in the old kitchen chair, leaving the screen door open, hoping to catch any stay breeze. The day was sticky and hot, the sun shinning like a blazing copper penny in the cobalt sky. As he sipped his cold drink, watching the beads of perspiration slide down the glass, he reminded himself to fix the apartment's cooling system. But for now all he wanted to was relax. The apartment was too quiet, he decided. Tasya had gone off to work at the booth she had set up at Treasure Ship Row, selling delicacies and crafts from her homeworld. It had become quite popular. SLAM! Jonash jumped as the screen door crashed shut. At the noise he swung around, hand flying down to the blaster strapped in his holster, worn low on his thigh. Han stalked inside the door, his face red and beads of perspiration running from his forehead. He threw his backpack off in the corner with a crash and sat down in his chair and pulled a cookie out form the plate in the middle. Jonash relaxed. Old smuggler habits die hard, he decided. *You're a family man now Jonash! Pirates and blasters can wait until next week.* He chided himself. "Hey Han." He said with a smile. "How was school?" Han silently chewed his cookie. "I asked how your day was." Jonash repeated. Han shrugged. "Han, I asked what happened. Han. HAN!" Han looked up and shrugged. Then he reached for another cookie. Jonash grabbed his hand. "You can have another cookie after you me tell what happened in school today." He could tell when something was wrong. As it was now. "Did something go wrong at school?" He tried softening his tone. Han shrugged again. Jonash gave up. That boy could out stubborn a bantha. When he didn't want to talk, he wasn't going to talk. He would just have to find out himself. While Han was distracted measuring cookies, trying to determine which was bigger, Jonash opened his folder. A yellow sheet of paper fell out. Neatly printed in round letters it read: Dear Mr. and Mrs. Suul, We would like to inform you that your child, Han Suul , was disruptive in class today for hitting another student. Please use the disciplinary actions you feel are necessary. Thank you. South Cornet A School Jonash frowned. "Han..." But when he looked up, Han was gone. He spotted him sneaking out the door. He grabbed him just before he escaped. "All right young man. You better have a very good excuse for hitting someone. How many times have I told you that violence isn't the answer?" He narowed his eyes into thin slits. Han squirmed under his father's grip. "Let me go!" "Tell me what happened!" He stared at his son in the eye. "No!" "Yes!" "NO!" Han yelled. "Then I'll just have to call the school." Jonash said evenly. "Now tell me what happened." "It's not my fault!" Han shouted. "Then whose is it?" "Not mine!" "Yeah, I suppose that kid just walked into your fist?" "Yeah, that's right." "HAN!" Jonash bellowed, losing his temper. He caught himself and stared at Han. "Tell me why you hit him, right this instant." He said in a slow, measured voice. Each word was carefully chosen and clipped short with anger. The quiet serious voice was worse than any yell or scream. "He was making fun of me." Han said in a tiny voice, very scared. "Why was he making fun of you?" Jonash started to relax. "Because in class we were learning about other planets' folk tales. They talked about...Hansel and Gretal. Then at break Lando started saying 'Han Suul and Gretal, Han Suul and Gretal. Did you leave a trail of breadcrumbs Han Suul?' Then some other boys came and started to make fun of me so I punched Lando." His hazel eyes started to water up with tears and sniffed loudly. Jonash sighed and gathered Han up on his lap, brushing away his tears.Now was a good time to tell him. "Han, I have to tell you something very important. Your name really isn't Suul, neither is mine. It's really Solo." Han's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Solo?" He said quizzically, wiping a runny nose on his sleeve "A long time ago, your great grandfather, Korol Solo, had your grandfather, Dalla Solo." Jonash started, putting on his best story telling voice. "Korol was a, ah, pretender to the Corellian throne. A fake. He said he was a king, but he really wasn't. He was caught and was hanged. Dalla didn't want people to know that he was related to Korol, so he changed his name to Suul. So your name really is Solo, and so is mine." "I like that better." Han said. "Can I change it?" He asked tentatively, looking hopefully up at his father. Jonash smiled. "I don't see why not. It is your real name." "Really?" Han exclaimed. "Thanks Dad, you're the best!" He hugged his father as tightly as he could. He looked up at his father worshipfully, his hazel eye full of admiration. "Dad, when I grow up, I want to be a rogue just like you." Jonash's eyes widened and he looked shocked at his son. Slowly, a lopsided grin crossed his face and he hugged Han back. "I'll just bet you will, Han Solo. I'll just bet." Comments? Questions? Hate mail? Send them all to me at [email protected]