Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 04_ Agents of Chaos 01_ Hero's Trial - James Luceno [8]
As the one closest to Chewbacca—and perhaps because he was a very human being—Master Han seemed to be suffering the most, alternating between anguish and rage, despondency and agitation. The man C-3PO had once dismissed as impossible was now deeply distraught, as unreachable as if he were encased in carbonite, and there seemed nothing C-3PO could do to put the matter right. Being fluent in millions of forms of communication did not guarantee an understanding of human behavior, let alone human emotions. C-3PO was only a droid, after all, and not very knowledgeable about such things.
There had been an incident during Master Han’s courtship of then Princess Leia when Master Han had had occasion to place a hand on C-3PO’s arm and say, “You’re a good droid, Threepio. There’s not many droids I like as much as I like you.” He had gone on to ask C-3PO’s advice on matters of the heart, and C-3PO had gladly provided a poem for Master Han to use as ammunition in his contest with Prince Isolder for the princess’s hand.
But curse my metal body, C-3PO said to himself. Why hadn’t his maker equipped him with the necessary programming to come to Master Han’s aid now? Instead, all he could offer was mindless philosophizing!
[Adventure is as alluring and potentially dangerous a thing as the heart of the syren plant,] Ralrra roared plaintively. [But even Chewbacca’s final act was one of sacrifice, giving his life to save someone dearr to him.] The aged Wookiee looked at young Anakin, then at Master Han and Mistress Leia. [And as everr he kept his claws retracted in battle. Now, in the same way the branches of the wroshyr seek out and support one anotherr, Chewbacca’s spirit merges with and gives sustenance to ourr own, strengthening us forr the challenges we have yet to confront.]
Warfare had figured in C-3PO’s existence for so long that a new invasion shouldn’t have come as a surprise. But there was something different about the Yuuzhan Vong and the harrowing war they were waging on a galactic scale. It wasn’t merely that they didn’t distinguish among species or among worlds—New Republic, Imperial Remnant, or nonaligned—or even that their biotic warships and weapons packed such awesome destructive power. What worried C-3PO most was that this most recent conflict was one in which not even droids were spared. And that meant that, like it or not, he might yet arrive at a true understanding of grief and death.
The circular table was covered with foodstuffs—bowls of xachibik broth, barbecued trakkrrrn ribs, forest-honey cakes, salad garnished with rillrrnnn seeds, and flasks of wines, juices, and liquors. Humans and Wookiees were conversing in groups, recounting tales of Chewbacca’s exploits that brought laughter, tears, or moments of sober reflection. The breeze had picked up, stirring leaves and enlivening wind chimes.
Han sat dejectedly on a short-legged wooden stool, resting his elbows on his knees. “Y’know, I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I think I actually envy Threepio.”
Jaina followed her father’s gaze to where the droid was standing with his squat counterpart, looking completely at a loss. “It’s better not to have a heart, you mean.”
“At times like this, anyway.” Han exhaled wearily and ran his right hand down over his face.
Jaina motioned to the table. “Let me get you something to eat, Dad. You must be starved.”
He managed a smile. “Thanks, sweetie, but I’m not hungry.”
“You should have something anyway,” she said in a maternal way.
Han brightened slightly and reached for her hand. “You help yourself, I’m fine.”
She frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He gestured with his chin. “Get going. Eat enough for the both of us.”
Reluctantly, Jaina headed for the table. Han watched her for a long moment as she mingled with her siblings, Luke, and Lowbacca. Observing them, he wondered what he might do if he could use the Force the way the Jedi did. Would he remain on the light side, or would