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"What do you think she'd do to me if I left you behind?"

Nothing good, for the record, and probably something that would incapacitate him enough to keep him from being anyone's bodyguard.

"Good to know you're more afraid of my sister than you are of me."

Not, strictly speaking, that he can really blame Han.

"Hopefully I'll never have to do anything like that again, anyway."

But he doesn't sound overly optimistic. Maybe he really ought to work on his plans, with what a pattern it's become since Endor.

Well, Leia is terrifying when she wants to be. And Han isn't exactly fond of the idea of how she'd react to something happening to Luke. Just the potential of something happening is enough to send them both on wild tears through the galaxy to make sure he's safe.

If something had happened, something permanent, he's not sure what they'd do.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

Maybe they'll also get a vacation and a nice chunk of hazard pay, too.

Luke slouches back against that couch arm with his legs still dangling off the side, and fishes that forgotten ration packet from where he'd almost sat on it. He's still not that hungry but takes a few bites of it anyway, if only to please Han before he inevitably remembers that's what he came here for in the first place.

"The Melters won't be troubling anyone anymore," he says eventually. "Or maybe I should say no one will be troubling them. Least of all Blackhole."

Han wasn't xenophobic. He'd grown up around all kinds of sentient species, made it a point to learn as much as he could about the cultures and languages, how to deal with them all...

Still, there is a very definite relief in his posture when Luke says the Melters won't be troubling anyone.

"Good," to both parts, and to Luke eating more of his kesting rations. "I figure they're nice enough when they're not..." There, he gestures vaguely to indicate encasing you in blackness or leaving you in a pit or being controlled by a megalomaniac nihilist.

"They were just looking for light," he responds, as if that actually explains anything. "They've got more than they'll ever need now."

The Force will keep them sated, free of Blackhole's hold. As for Cronal...he'll be more than busy enough with Kar Vastor, Nick, and Aeona on his tail, without all that precious meltmassif to control and hurt people.

Han figures Luke means the deadly sun they all left behind and nods, solemn. Though, he remembers how Leia had kept talking about light, how she'd shaken and like a fool he'd gone around turning all the lights in the Falcon up as high as they could go.

Maybe it was exhaustion catching up with him, but he was finding it more and more difficult to wrap his head around everything that had just happened, and all the implications.

"Personally, I think I could use a little more, but I think I blew a few resistors for the light circuits back there," is all he can think to say as he sinks back into the couch.

It'll probably be some time before any of them can wrap their heads around everything that happened at Mindor. Luke's been falling in and out of numb shock since the crash landing and it reclaims him now, winding around all of his negativity and tamping it down.

But there's an uptick to his lips at Han's answer, a brief smile that flits across his expression. There's something about that simple, pragmatic response that's funny and just so Han that he doesn't know why he didn't expect it.

"Maybe you should ask Threepio to take a look at them."

Brief smiles aren't a lot, but Han will take what he can get at this point to assure himself Luke isn't going to quietly fall apart the second he leaves the room.

He makes a noise that sounds like half a laugh but mostly just tired annoyance as he settles back into the seat. Probably something he shouldn't do yet, because it'll only make it that much harder to get back up later.

"He's too busy gossiping with Artoo about I don't even know what."

"Poor old Threepio. They've both been through a lot too."

Threepio might complain about his lot in life about every day of it, but he's never failed to help them when he can or follow them right into the next dangerous situation, no matter what it is. The droids are as loyal as they come -- and then some.

"Artoo's probably filling him in on what happened groundside."

Who hasn't been through a lot at this point? Han figures there's someone out there in the galaxy, completely oblivious to everything else going on and completely unaffected, but it's very difficult to picture just what that would be like.

"I don't know," and he gestures in vague dismissiveness that has no real direction, because he's too tired now to move enough to indicate one.

"I heard Goldenrod start asking about syntax and got out of there as fast as I could."

Loyal though they may be (and are, even Han can admit that), there was a time and place to care about the intricacies of their little relationship, and trying to recuperate after this particular battle might go down in history as the worst time for it.

"That's just what was he was programmed to do," Luke murmurs, leaning his head back so he's watching the ceiling.

The galaxy's probably big enough that there's someone out there who's had an easier go of it than they have, but surely just about everyone was affected by the Empire. By some wrongdoers, somewhere. That's why the Alliance had been so determined to topple the corrupt government, and...that's why the Jedi exist. A light in the Dark; a blade to defend the innocent. No, a shield -- protective, not destructive. Luke's taken destruction for the greater good too far as it is.

"If we never meet another Emperor's Hand, it'll be too soon. It was bad enough when he only had two of them."

A terrible, exhausted joke, but at least it's an attempt at humor, even if it's more for Han's sake than anything else.

Any shot is one Han will take at the moment, though he's too tired to laugh. Instead he sinks back further, wonders if he ought to get up and check on Leia and Chewie.

"Maybe the rest of them'll get tired of being hands. They can be..." At a loss, he scrubs his face for a moment with both hands, as if he can wake himself up that way. "They can be Emperor's Feet or something."

The Emperor's Feet. Luke makes a choked sound that would've been a laugh before this battle.

"I've seen his feet. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, no matter how horrible they are."

This isn't strictly true; he saw the Emperor's shoes for a good few seconds there, but there's no way such an evil, ugly old man would have nice feet.

He shakes his head. What part of that makes sense?

"You should go check on Leia," he suggests. It's less that he can tell Han thought about it and more just that he feels like Han's been away from Leia long enough. She still needs him. "Save her from Threepio's questions about grammar."

There's something like a chuckle from Han as he sits there, head tossed back, staring at the ceiling. Moving will be hard, but Luke is right, and Leia needs him. Probably more than him, but he has what he has.

"Yeah," and the annoyed groan he makes when he stands says more about his current state than words could convey. Tired and sore and exhausted in every way a human can be exhausted. Once he's up, though, Han isn't risking sitting back down.

He just points at Luke.

"Finish that."

Han all but radiates the exhaustion he's tried so hard to keep at bay, and it'll be good for him to be around Leia for his own sake too -- and maybe even get some rest.

Luke doesn't roll his eyes at the command, but he raises his eyebrows like he's seriously considering it. He even takes another bite to appease his friend before he leaves, offering a mock salute with what's left of the rations. They'll get eaten, probably, before (despite his earlier thoughts) he falls asleep on that couch. In any case, he's not leaving this nook any time soon.

He won't have to, but Luke does have to get off the Falcon eventually.

Then it's over a month before Han notices someone making inquiries about Mindor. What happened, timelines, wheres and whens and hows. What Luke was doing. What Luke was responsible for.

The kind of questions that are part of official investigations and court martials.

"Luke!" Han is not trying to be subtle about getting Luke to answer the door, which might become a problem as far as investigations go but he doesn't much care how anything he does looks to what he assumes is the New Republic's Internal Affairs department. "C'mon, kid, it's me!"

Oddly, he felt a little better after hiring Geptun. Or maybe it isn't that odd. The insistence, upon his and everyone else's arrival back to Alliance headquarters, that Mindor had overall been a military success and yet another victory from reliable General Skywalker -- despite the colossal losses, despite all the death -- has been driving Luke crazy. He'd been expecting some accountability, something. Anything but being reassured that he'd done the best he could and that people still think he's a hero. That Blackhole being repulsed for (hopefully) good made all that suffering not be in vain.

A hero. He hates it.

But none of that is on the mind with Han at his door, shouting through it like the building's about to burn down and Luke hasn't caught on yet. He answers the door in a hurry, alarmed and preemptively exasperated.

"What is it?"

"Did they start an inquiry?"

More hushed, now, but urgent. Accountability is one thing, Luke was accountable in spades at least to himself, but Han was not at all comfortable with the idea that someone who was never there, who has no idea what it was like, will be the one to judge the merits of what happened based on the opinions of whoever they convince to talk.

In contrast to all of Han's urgency, Luke only blinks and shrugs, looking confused.

"If they have, it's news to me."

With considerably less concern.

He makes a face, annoyed even as he slides past Luke and into the room, because if were official they had to notify him. Then again, if someone were really on a tear they wouldn't bother with protocol.

"Then did anyone come to you about Mindor? Guy's been getting around to every crewman still on Coruscant."

He lets the door slide shut behind him, turning to watch his friend angrily stalk into the room. Which probably gives Han a nice and clear view of his expression as that question sinks in; he goes from confusion to understanding to irritation in quick succession, ending all of that with a shake of the head. Maybe Geptun was a bad idea. Nick apparently talked up his ability too high, or Luke just severely overestimated his capacity to be discreet. Probably both.

"I know who you're talking about. Don't worry about him; he's not with the Alliance."

"Oh, no."

The realization hits him about halfway through Luke's explanation. The kid had been carrying the guilt from the moment he had to start fighting, and now he's having someone investigate himself? To find him more guilty?

"Tell me you didn't."

That would be a lie, so he shrugs.

"Nick recommended him." As if that makes it better. "When I asked, so don't go getting angry at him."

"Well, if he recommended him I guess that's fine."

Han sounds like he is decidedly not fine with this, however. Instead, after a few moments he rounds on Luke. "Why would you start an investigation? You know what happened."

PICK YOUR POISON
PIC PROMPTS / TFLN / RANDOM SCENARIO
HAN SOLO velocities	BETTY MCRAE bombsheller	RIVER TAM subsulcus	RIVER TAM (AU) comprehender
SIMON TAM vest	BRIA THAREN exulted	NADINE CROSS bridaled	GU JUN-PYO toddler
available on special request: veronica sawyer, benjamin linus, imani, maria deluca, mushu, poseidon, niccolò machiavelli, malik al-sayf, chloe

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well this is awkward

hey, han isn't the one who hired someone to investigate himself

IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME.

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