Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luke Skywalker stared at the ceiling, dissatisfied. “Dissatisfied” seemed to be the default throughout his teenage years. He was no longer content sitting around at home on this rock, waiting for something to happen- waiting for something to happen to him the way it had happened for all of his friends -- or the way they had made it happen. Luke was trying to make it happen, he really was. The way Biggs spoke about the Rebellion made Luke believe there was no place in the world he would rather be. Perhaps there really was no place better for Luke, but none of that mattered to Uncle Owen.

As far as Luke could tell, Uncle Owen expected him to live on the moisture farm forever. For better or worse, there was no place like Tatooine. It certainly had its benefits: no risk of freezing, a large market for trading-- oh and the blue milk wasn’t terrible. The problem lied in how boring the routine was for a nineteen year old.

One particular night, Luke decided it was time to once again bring up to his aunt and uncle just how much he desired to begin a life of his own. He stood in his room, practicing his words under his breath. He paced back and forth, fiddling with a toy ship he had kept since he was a child. For a moment he stopped and looked down at the ship in his hands. He slowly raised it to eye-level and imagined for a moment…

“Luke? Luke! Come to dinner!”

This was the voice of Aunt Beru. Luke continued to stare at the ship for one more moment before nodding and setting it down on his bedside table. It was time.

“I’m on my way, Aunt Beru,” Luke called back and hurried to dinner.

As Luke made his way into the kitchen, Aunt Beru was setting down a pitcher of blue milk. She smiled warmly at her nephew, who smiled back and took his place. Uncle Owen was already sitting and looked up at Luke expectantly. Luke’s smile dropped as he saw his uncle’s expression.

“Uh, is everything alright, Uncle Owen?”

Beru sat down in her spot, across from Luke and looked between them as Owen replied, “Oh, everything’s fine on my end. What about yours?”

“Everything’s fine on mine too,” Luke said awkwardly. He paused and then turned to Beru, “How is--”

“Are you sure?” Owen cut in.

Luke’s gaze returned to his uncle, “What do you mean?”

Owen began to stir his food, “I’ve noticed how quiet you’ve been. Something on your mind, son?”

Luke took a breath, relaxing slightly. For a moment, his uncle had seemed upset. Now it was clear he was concerned-- but he might actually become upset in a moment regardless.

“Oh…yes,” Luke stumbled a bit, “You know how you’re planning on getting new droids to help around the farm?”

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had indeed pulled together the credits to get one or two droids in order to make the days easier. It had given Luke the idea to negotiate once more in the first place. His first talking point was now out in the open-- and there was no going back.

Owen eyed him, “Yes. It won’t be long now.”

Luke nodded and nervously took a drink of his blue milk.

“Why do you ask?”

Luke slowly set the glass down and braced himself. Now was the time, “I, uh, was thinking about our agreement about my staying on another season. And if these new droids do work out, I want to transmit my application to the Academy this year.”

There it was. All cards laid out on the table. He looked between his aunt and uncle. It was their move now.

Beru looked like she was about to say something when Owen spoke up first, “You mean the next semester before Harvest?”

Luke nodded, “Sure, there’ll be more than enough help here with the droids--”

“Harvest is when I need you the most. Only one more season. This year we'll make enough on the harvest so I'll be able to hire some more hands. And then you can go to the Academy next year.”

Luke looked down at his food, disappointed and, once again, dissatisfied. He poked at it lightly and suddenly forgot everything he had practiced.

“You must understand I need you here, Luke.”

Luke met Owen’s eyes once more and protested, “But it’s a whole ‘nother year…”

“Look, it’s only one more season--”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last year when Biggs and Tank left.”

Owen looked at his nephew sternly, “And I’ll say it again. As long as it takes, as long as we need you. You’re staying here.”

The words came out with more harshness than Owen had intended. Not quite a yell but clearly a result of lost patience. He looked surprised at himself for a moment. Beru looked surprised too.

Owen attempted to salvage the evening, “Now, let’s just focus on this season…”

Luke didn’t care to finish what was already over. He pushed his barely eaten plate aside and stood up

“Where are you going?” Beru asked with clear concern.

Luke shrugged in return, “Looks like I’m going nowhere.” And with that, he was off again. Owen watched him go, “Luke.”

But Luke did not turn around. Beru reached forward and put her hand on top of Owen’s, seeing the regret in his eyes, “Owen, he can't stay here forever. Most of his friends have gone. It means so much to him.”

Owen nodded understandingly, “I’ll make it up to him next year. I promise.”

Beru leaned her head on her other hand thoughtfully, “Luke’s just not a farmer, Owen. He’s got too much of his father in him.”

Owen shook his head, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Luke emerged from the dining room and made his way to the dune outskirts of the farm. He stopped and watched as the twin Suns of Tatooine were making their descent on the horizon. As dusk took over, Luke felt a sense of desperation overcome him. He had to get out of here. He had to see the worlds somehow. He wished Uncle Owen could understand but now he knew he never would.

As the suns finished their dip and night took over, Luke’s dissatisfaction flooded in once more. Desperation suddenly began to shift into something different but equally powerful— determination. He was going to make it off this rock. And if not off this rock, then he was going to see what else Tatooine had to offer. It was right then and there that Luke Skywalker decided he was going to run away.

Luke quickly but carefully began to pull together some essential belongings. He didn’t know what the road ahead would bring so he attempted to pack for anything and everything while not bringing more than he could carry.

He stopped preparations only for one moment when he thought of his aunt and uncle. A sense of guilt made his throat tighten. If they were worried about him now, imagine what would happen in the morning when they found him gone. Yes, he was sure it would be the morning. He believed they were well asleep by now and had chosen to leave him alone for the rest of the night. The sense of determination crept back up inside him and forced down the guilt. He would leave them a note. That would help at least a bit, right? And it wasn’t like he’d be gone forever.

After everything was accounted for, Luke closed up his bag and took to writing. He wrote several things, and scratched out just as much. He began to feel himself becoming frustrated, figuring out just what the right thing to say would be. How could he make up for what he knew he needed to do? Eventually, he was able to jot down something decent, something he really meant. He set the letter out on his desk and stood up. He walked over to his closet and pulled out his poncho, throwing it around himself. As he fastened it, he looked around at the room he was raised in: was he making the right decision?

Before he could really overthink it, Luke grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and turned out the light.

Slinking out of his room and across the moisture farm, all was quiet. He came across Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru’s room for a moment and froze when he noticed the light was on— it was the only light still on in the whole farm. Luke heard no voices coming from the room, but he crept under the window and carefully peeked inside.

He saw Owen sitting on the edge of the bed, looking deep in thought. He stared at the floor. Beru emerged from another room and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright, dear?”

Owen looked up at her, “Maybe I oughta go talk to him. I really didn’t mean to snap at the boy like that, I just want him to understand.”

He got lost in his own thoughts once more and Beru sat down next to him, rubbing his shoulder slightly, “I know you didn’t. He knows that too. You can talk to him in the morning. I'm sure he’s asleep by now…”

Owen nodded but said no more. He looked at his wife, who leaned her head on his shoulder in response.

Luke ducked down again, almost sitting down with his back against the wall. His chest tightened and he felt a lump forming in his throat. What was he doing? How could he do this? Maybe the farm really was where he belonged…

He leaned the back of his head against the wall and gazed up at the sky. A sky full of stars. Who knew how many there were? Who knew how much there was out there? Someone knew. Luke wanted to be someone who knew. A distant light blinked in the sky— maybe an X-wing of the Rebellion. How great would it be to fly with the Rebellion? Luke closed his eyes and pictured it. Flying among heroes fighting for a worthy and noble cause. As the images flashed before him, the feelings of guilt washed away once more.

Luke opened his eyes again and stood up, careful to avoid the window. He quietly put distance between himself and their room, hoisting his bag back up onto his shoulder. Looking back one more time at Owen and Beru’s room, Luke silently promised them he would be back. The light turned out. The moisture farm was completely dark now. And that was his cue.

Luke took a deep breath and turned out towards the dunes: nothing but sand and rocks as far as the eye could see. Luke briefly hesitated again when he remembered the Tusken Raiders that would be prowling the area. He had been warned about them. But this might be his only chance. Pulling together all of his bravery, Luke began to walk into the darkness— not before flicking on a small glowrod he carried with him. He followed the lighted path he was creating for himself and just kept walking.

Luke walked all night, stopping only briefly to have a snack and lie down for a quick nap. His chosen spot was well-hidden, undetectable to any Jawa or Tusken Raider that might come his way (he hoped). He woke again and kept walking aimlessly. A few times he wondered what he was even doing. Where was he even going? As the sun began to rise, Luke almost considered turning back but he saw something in the distance. Something was just beyond the cliff. He approached.

As he reached the edge, he saw it in full: a group of buildings. A place for trading maybe? The traffic was already heavy considering the time. Luke wondered if this was the type of place that never slept. He’d heard of those. Whatever it was, it was someplace new and Luke was ready to experience it.

Luke pulled his poncho closer to himself and made his way down the hill. It took just under ten minutes to reach the outskirts and Luke could already see that this place was under Imperial detection. He carefully maneuvered around the place, met with a variety of looks: anything from disgust to deep down hatred. Not a friendly place…

Luke had a sudden desire to get out of the open. He scanned the buildings for somewhere that looked crowded enough that he wouldn't risk standing out. His eyes landed on one with people seemingly flowing in and out. Loud music came from inside.

Luke attempted to look casual and walked over to it, stepping inside.

Chapter Text

Han Solo was satisfied. He was more than satisfied actually, for the most part. Why shouldn’t he be? Business was good. There was always a need for people in his line of work. Sure, the Empire constantly breathing down everyone’s necks didn’t help anyone but, ultimately, Han didn’t really feel like they were his problem. He’d stay in line when it counted— or look like he was in line, that was more accurate. The only reason he would have to feel dissatisfied in the slightest was because of Jabba…but that was a problem for another day.

Han sat lazily in a booth, tracing circles on the table in front of him with his left pointer finger. He glanced up around him: the cantina was filled with the usual. Scum, villany, bar fights, bar kills— nothing new. Han felt his eyelids begin to droop. He was satisfied, sure, but with a brief break in your tasks comes a risk of boredom.

“This place is always the same, Chewie,” Han muttered to his furry companion, sat by his side. Chewbacca questioned him and tilted his head slightly.

Han turned to look at him and ran a hand over his face, “I don’t know these people just…never change. But hey, neither do we.”

Han leaned back in his seat, hands folded behind his head, as Chewie muttered in agreement. Han’s eyes landed on a pair of drunken chadra-fans shoving each other. He couldn’t tell from this distance if the fight was playful or something more serious. Either way, no one looked up to watch. “Yeah exactly. Nothing new,” Han said.

He began to close his eyes, when suddenly he noticed someone behind the chadra-fans. The someone looked young and he looked like he was trying to fit in— trying but not succeeding, in his big poncho and bigger bag. He had a nervous look on his face as he carefully made his way to the bar. What was this kid doing here?

Han sat forward, intrigued, “There’s something new.” He gestured to the boy and Chewbacca followed his gaze. Chewie’s expression softened for a moment and he barked out something to Han.

“No, I don’t think so either. Kid looks scared stiff. Twenty credits says he’s lost.”

Both of them winced as the kid bumped into a Jawa, who instantly met him with a series of curses in Jawaese. He apologized profusely and accidentally bumped into a muftak behind him. He whirled around and quickly began apologizing in both directions as the two he had accidentally disturbed yelled at him.

Han groaned and shook his head, running a hand over his face once more, “Poor kid…I think you’d better help him, Chewie. I’ll save our spot.”

The words had barely left Han’s mouth when Chewbacca was up and walking across the bar. Han leaned back again, knowing the wookie had this more than handled.

Luke finally reached the bar, as the two he had bumped lost interest after roughing him up a bit. He pulled himself onto a barstool and attempted not to look on either side of him. He felt a stare to his left, nonetheless, and attempted to discreetly look up. He was met by a patron glaring directly at him. This man had large eyes and a pair of tusks. Luke had obviously been distracted by his plight with the jawa and muftak and hadn't noticed this man watching him with pure malice.

He bellowed in a language Luke didn’t understand. Luke looked down at his hands on the bar, unsure what to say or do but determined to still blend in. He hoped this man would just get bored and move on like the others had.

The bartender arrived just in time and Luke gestured to a random drink, “I’ll have one of those.”

As the bartender nodded and began to prepare his drink, Luke felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a man getting right in his face. The man gestured to the tusked man beside him, “He doesn’t like you.”

Luke looked between them. Was this guy trying to be helpful? Translating? Luke awkwardly said, “I’m sorry.”

He turned back around to face the bartender again, who set down his drink, but was quickly grabbed by the man and spun back toward them, “ I don’t like you either.”

Luke stared in confusion. He opened his mouth to question what he’d done but the man continued, “You just watch yourself. We’re wanted men. I have the death sentence on twelve systems.”

Luke dislodged himself from the man’s grip and assured him, “I’ll be careful—“

“You’ll be dead!”

Luke scanned the room nervously. No one was paying attention. He looked back at the man who eyed him expectantly, “Well, uh, thank you for your concern—“

Before he could finish, the man grabbed him by the shirt collar and threw him onto the ground. Luke scrambled backward as the man stepped toward him. He noticed his hand reaching down to his belt, where Luke could just barely make out the hilt of a blaster. He felt his breathing hitch, “I don’t want trouble..."

The man grinned slightly, “No one here wants trouble, but they always find it. Now, let's see how quick you are without one of your legs…”

He unsheathed his blaster as Luke continued to stumble back. He pointed it toward him and Luke was backed into a wall, angry-looking patrons blocking the way on all sides. He thought of his aunt and uncle. They would never know what became of him. He shut his eyes…

But no blast came. Instead, he heard the man’s voice protesting, “Put me down, you beast!”

Luke’s eyes shot open again. The scene before him was a wild one for a boy who’d spent his entire life on a moisture farm: a large, furry creature (at least seven feet tall) held the man suspended over the ground. The gun slipped from his hands onto the floor. His tusked friend went for it but his hand was crushed under the creature’s paw. He screamed in pain and backed off immediately.

The other man squirmed in the tight grip, “I said put me down!” The creature obliged, but not in the way the man had clearly wanted. He brought the man down on the ground with a mighty force, slamming him onto the hard surface and knocking him out cold instantly.

Luke watched in awe, his back still to the wall. He could now see that this creature was a Wookie. He had never seen one in person, only knew about how the Empire used them from stories he had been told. The wookie reached down and plucked the gun from off the ground, then his attention turned to Luke. By now, all parties had disengaged and carelessly gone back to their own activities and Luke wondered if he should try to slip out.

Before he could make any sort of move, the wookie took one big stride toward him. Luke backed even further into the wall, if that was possible, and stared up at him with huge eyes. He wondered if the wookie would use the blaster on him or if, even worse, he would also be slammed onto the ground with incredible strength. Option one was shut down as the wookie slipped the blaster into his bag. Then, he reached for Luke with both furry hands and picked him up. For a brief moment, Luke wondered if he was going by way of option two.

However, the wookie simply stood Luke up, setting him back down upright, then gently patted him on the head. Luke stared in confusion, “Uh, thank you…”

The wookie nodded his head and said something. Luke felt a smile begin to come over his face. Maybe there was some friendliness in this unfriendly place after all, “I—-“

The wookie turned on his heel and began to walk away. Well, there went the friendly face. But he stopped and turned back. He lifted an arm, beckoning Luke to follow.

Luke looked around and pointed to himself, “Me?”

The wookie raised an eyebrow and nodded. He then turned around once more and continued walking. Luke rushed to keep up.

Han still sat at the table. He now had a drink in his hand and sipped on it carelessly. Chewbacca approached the table, this time with the blonde boy in tow. He eyed the wookie as he took his seat again next to him.

The boy stood slightly away, awkwardly. He waved, “Hi…”

Han gave a cheeky smile, “Hi. You okay, kid?”

“Oh you saw that?”

“I saw it. You’re lucky Chewbacca was there.”

The kid’s eyes went to Chewie, who mumbled something.

“Yeah, I really was,” said the boy.

Han exchanged glances with Chewbacca, “Now, what are you doing out here? No offense, but you look more lost than a wampa on Endor.”

The boy stepped closer to the table, seemingly relieved-- perhaps glad that someone recognized the fact that he was unfamiliar with this area and wouldn’t kill him over it, “I was actually wondering if you could tell me where I am?”

“Mos Eisley. Specifically its cantina. I’ve answered your question. Now answer mine.”

The boy considered, “I’m…traveling.”

“Traveling, huh? And no one warned you about this place?”

The kid shook his head, “I don’t-- I haven’t ever left home.”

Han studied him. He was being honest, the smuggler could tell. And if he wasn't, then boy was he good at playing the part. He looked innocent. Like someone trying to appear confident but couldn’t quite pull it off since he hadn’t seen enough yet. If Han had ever felt that way it was a long time ago.

“What’s your name, kid?"

“Luke Skywalker.”

Nice name. Nice kid. He shouldn’t be here. Han extended a hand to him anyway, “Han Solo, captain of the Millenium Falcon.”

That last tidbit of knowledge was maybe unnecessary-- or would be unnecessary to the average pilot, but Han wasn’t the average pilot. He expected Luke to greet the news with excitement or, at the very least, vague interest. Instead, the kid just looked confused.

“What’s that?”

Han’s brows furrowed, “What’s what?”

“The Millennium Falcon…?”

Han looked at him, almost not believing. Did he live under a rock?

“You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon? It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs.”

More confusion was etched on the boy’s face. Han rolled his eyes and turned to Chewie, “This kid doesn’t know anything.”

“Hey, I know things, "Luke finally took a seat across from Han as he protested, “I’ve just never left home, remember?”

“And if this is the first time, then where is your home?”

Luke hesitated for a moment, “Here…”

“Here?”

Luke nodded, “Here. On Tatooine.”

“And you’ve never been to Mos Eisley once? Geez kid, you’re acting like a tourist on your own planet!”

“Well, I’m done with this being my planet,” Luke folded his arms and slumped onto the table in front of him, “I’m leaving.”

Han raised an eyebrow, “So, you’re not ‘traveling’, you're leaving home.” 

“What about it? Everyone does it eventually.”

Han leaned back, “Sure, but most people build up some experience first. Hell of a lot easier than going in blind if you have the choice.”

Luke watched as Han lifted his drink to his lips, “I can handle it.”

Han lowered the drink, “You mean like how you handled that bar fight? If Chewie hadn’t been there, you’d be down a leg.”

Luke opened his mouth but no protest came. Han nodded knowingly, “Here’s my advice: go home, kid. You seem sheltered enough to have a loving family waiting there for you. Don’t waste your time getting mixed around with people like these.” Han gestured around the bar.

Luke’s focus remained on him, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If this life is so bad, why don’t you go home?”

Han set down his drink and stared at it for a moment. Chewbacca looked between the two, “Some of us don’t have homes to go back to.”

Luke felt like an idiot. He felt embarrassment flush through him due to his assumption, “I, uh, I-I’m sorry, Mr. Solo--”

“You’re fine, kid. And it’s Han.”

With that, Han stood up, Chewbacca not far behind, “Look, since you’re a nice kid, I’ll cover your tab.”

Luke shook his head and stood up as well, “No, my Uncle Owen said never to accept handouts. A Lars makes his own way in the galaxy.”

“I thought you said you were a Skywalker.”

Luke considered and put down his tab, “Either way, I can pay for myself…thank you.”

Han nodded with respect, “Your uncle sounds like a smart guy.” Han paid for himself and Chewbacca, then nodded to Luke and walked out of the booth. Luke was caught off guard for a second, “Hey-- wait a minute!”

He rushed after the pair, who were already actively pushing their way through a crowd. Han turned back to look at him, “I thought I told you to go home.”

“Well, where are you going?”

Han left the building, emerging into the bright light of the Twin Suns before he made his response. Chewbacca was at his side with Luke trailing just behind, “I’m going to none of your business.”

He kept walking. And Luke kept following, “Take me with you.”

Han laughed and didn’t stop walking, “I don’t think so, kid.”

“Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t last five minutes in my line of work.”

“Well, what’s your line of work?”

“Another case of none of your business.”

“But what if I could--?”

Han suddenly stopped in front of Luke, causing the latter to bump into him. He turned around, “Do you always ask this many questions?!”

Luke took a step back, “Sorry…”

Han studied him and sighed, “No I’m sorry, but unless you know some way to find the credits I need, you can’t help me.”

Luke started to take off his bag but Han held up a hand, “No, you don’t have enough.”

Luke continued to remove the bag and held it in front of him anyway, “Probably not but every bit counts, right? What if I pay you to take me with you? I’ll pay you a thousand credits and whatever you want out of this bag.”

Han considered. He looked at Chewbacca, who said something, “Yeah, I know…you really this determined to get out of here?”

Luke nodded, “I want to make something of myself. I want to be someone.”

Han looked him up and down and then slowly nodded, “Yeah alright. You can come with us.”

Luke lit up as he slipped his bag back on, “Really??”

“Yeah yeah, but don’t be deadweight. Do what I tell you. Be where I need you. And don’t ask me questions about the job. It’s my work, understand?”

Luke nodded enthusiastically. Han turned around and continued walking, “But I’m gonna ask you a question. What is with that ridiculous poncho?”

“Hey, my Aunt Beru made this for me! I wore it to blend in…”

"Well, this is definitely a place you want to blend in, but that doesn’t help," Han snickered.

Luke pulled a floppy hat from his bag, “Oh yeah, well what about this? This is practically moisture farm required!”

Han turned to look and laughed harder. Chewbacca did the same. Luke looked between them in disbelief, “What’s wrong with it?!”

Han shook his head, “Another piece of advice for you since you took my first one so well: leave the fashion behind with the farm.”

He and Chewbacca continued to laugh as Luke stared down at his hat. He didn’t think it was such a bad hat. It protected him from the Suns’ rays and reminded him of home. Without a word, Luke pushed the hat back into his bag and continued to follow the pair.

As the trio approached where the Millennium Falcon was parked, Han was engaged in conversation with Chewie while Luke walked behind them. The kid seemed lost in his own world now, which was good. He didn’t need to know about the details of Han's situation yet…

They were interrupted by a deep bellow of a voice. Han and Chewie stopped in their tracks, causing Luke to stop behind them.

“Solo,” the voice called, “Come on out, Solo!”

Luke tilted his head, “Who is that?”

So much for the kid not needing to know about the details of his situation. Oh well, Han would tell him what he needed to know now. He turned around to face Luke, “This is one of my bosses. Do me a favor and don’t say anything.”

“What?”

“You’re already doing a bad job.”

Han sighed and looked at Chewie, who nodded, “Okay, just, stay behind Chewie, will ya?”

Luke nodded and Han made his way toward the Millennium Falcon, while his companions followed. He hoped with everything he had that this would go well.

As the Twin Suns rose, Owen was at Luke’s door. He knocked gently, hoping he wouldn’t be the one to wake the boy. Teenagers didn’t take very kindly to that.

“Luke,” he called out softly, “I wanted to talk about last night…to apologize.”

There was no response from inside Luke’s room. Owen knocked again, a little harder this time, “Luke?”

After a moment, he raised his hand once more, but the door slid open. He peeked inside curiously, “Luke? You in here?”

He stepped inside and soon realized the room was completely empty, the bed was made. Maybe the boy had started the day early…only Owen hadn’t seen him out and about. Perhaps he had taken his landspeeder for a ride? Owen glanced out the window and saw it parked. Owen felt a sense of worry creep within him. He scanned the room for any sort of clue, then his eyes landed on a piece of parchment on Luke’s desk. He approached and picked it up. As they came into focus, Owen read Luke’s words:

Dear Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru,

I have made the decision to leave the farm and find out who I’m meant to be. I’m sorry that I don’t feel like my purpose is here and I’m even more sorry for any pain I am causing. I know you’re probably very upset, and you have every reason to be, but please know that I took every precaution when packing for this trip. I have everything I need to be safe-- everything you taught me to have. I left my landspeeder behind because I knew you would catch me leaving. Please take good care of it for me. But more importantly, take care of yourselves. Just know that I am not gone forever. I will come back with a real sense of who I am and what my place is in the galaxy. I hope you two can understand.

Luke

Owen let his hand drop to his side, holding the parchment tight with panic. With his other hand, he rubbed his eyes and muttered, “What have I done?” He turned quickly, letter still in hand, and left Luke’s room. He searched for his wife, “Beru? Beru! Something’s happened to Luke!”

Chapter Text

Han peeked around the corner and, sure enough, there he was. The slimy son-of-a-gun himself: Jabba the Hutt in all his glory. Perspiration began to threaten Han’s temple. He wasn’t concerned about his own abilities- no, he was confident he could charm his way through a conversation with Jabba any day. Of the same coin, Chewbacca could do so with pure stoicism at his side. What Han was really concerned about was their newest companion. Based on how he had carried himself in the cantina, Han wasn’t sure what the largest crime boss of them all would make of the kid.

Han looked over his shoulder to ensure Luke was following his instructions and staying behind Chewie before making his way over to Jabba, who was still futilely attempting to get him out of the Falcon. Han could now see a few of Jabba’s men at his side. Hard to plan for them when he hadn’t even planned for Jabba.

He internally cursed himself - how could he not plan for Jabba anyway? He was usually so successful at covering all grounds. He even had a warning this time-- barely a few minutes before Luke had arrived in the cantina, one of Jabba’s men had come to put a gun to his head. Luckily, Han was faster…or was he? None of that mattered now as Han reached Jabba and declared with all the confidence he could falsely muster, “I’ve been waiting for you Jabba.”

That was good…it would make him believe Han did have the money or at least a plan on how to get it. Regardless, it would buy him some time too. Jabba turned around to face Han. Looking most displeased, he retorted in Huttese, “I expected you would be.”

Okay, not so good. Now the Hutt was overestimating. Han, never one to dwell, chose one of his quick-witted responses instead, “I’m not the type to run.”

By now, the two stood side-by-side and Han could see that Jabba’s expression was one of false sympathy. His attempts at gentle speech would do little to console anyone, “Han, my boy, there are times when you disappoint me...why haven't you paid me? And why did you have to fry poor Greedo like that... after all we've been through together.”

Ah, there was the mention of that bounty hunter who wanted to put a gun to Han’s head-- or chest. Luckily, Han had that defense going for him, “You sent Greedo to blast me.”

Despite how fair Han’s point was, Jabba still attempted to play it off, “Han, why you're the best smuggler in the business. You're too valuable to fry. He was only relaying my concern at your delays. He wasn't going to blast you…”

Lies and false assurances were Jabba’s specialty, nothing new to Han. The smuggler shook his head, “I thought he was. Next time, don’t send one of those twerps. If you’ve got something to say to me, come see me yourself.”

Han considered his own words. Jabba had come the moment he’d blasted Greedo, but wouldn’t lift a finger to do anything for himself. Crime lords only showed up when they needed to, he supposed. When things got messy. He was tired of dealing with the lot, but his share was still his own…and what paid, paid.

…

Luke did as he was told…for a while. He waited behind Chewie for as long as his ancy nature would allow. He’d never seen anything like this before-- much less been a part of it. He remained quiet for a while, Chewie checking over his shoulder every so often. The two had stayed by the entrance to the docking area, so no one could see him yet. Luke wondered if this was almost more suspicious than someone new casually appearing with the smugglers.

For one moment, the boy peeked ever so slightly around Chewbacca’s massive stature. He could make out Han and a Hutt-- he had thought he recognized the language. It had been a while since he had crossed paths with a Hutt but this one seemed…oddly familiar.

As he pondered where he had encountered this Hutt before, Luke’s eyes drifted around to the rest of the party. He could quickly gather that Han’s boss and his associates were not fond of him. Lots of stern expressions-- yet one he couldn’t see. His eyes lingered on this one for a moment. He looked to be a soldier, clad in green and red armour. He held a large blaster in his hands, Luke figured he must use it a lot.

Broken out of his distraction, Luke heard a quiet grunt and felt one of Chewie’s hands pushing him back into place behind him.

“Sorry,” Luke muttered. He thought of Uncle Owen and how many times he had insisted Luke stay still. Staying still was boring and Luke was over the boring. He looked up at Chewbacca for a moment before subtly peeking around his other side. More stern faces. Still, none could seem quite as stern as the man in the armor.

He looked over at Han and the Hutt. Things seemed to be going smoothly, not that Luke could make out any of the actual words. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see one of the Hutt’s men glaring at him.

“Hi--”

The man cut him off, spitting accusatorily-- at least it seemed that way from context clues. His was a language Luke didn’t know. The boy backed into Chewie, who turned around and growled. When the wookie noticed the commotion, he shifted Luke over to his other side. He attempted to calm the man, who was now pointing at Luke. The kid felt it would be a good idea to not stare at this altercation and, instead, let his eyes drift over to Han and the Hutt. Everything seemed calm and Luke hoped with everything he had that it would stay that way.

It did not last. Chewie’s attempts to console the stranger proved to be in vain as he only became more unruly. Heads quickly began to turn to see what the scuffle was about-- the heads of Han and the Hutt turned too, Han’s cocky smile falling.

…

“Han, my boy,” Jabba spoke while observing the kid and the wookie trying to avoid one of his bounty hunter’s wraths, “You didn’t tell me you had a new member of your crew. Or else an attempted stowaway-- oh well, I don’t know what I expect. You’re never truthful with me…”

“Hey, I’m truthful alright,” Han gestured toward Luke in the most casual way he could, “the kid’s just a hitchhiker. He’s paying me to take him to Endor for some backpacking trip-- you know how these youths are. Can’t keep ‘em tied down even with a war going on…”

Han chuckled to himself as Jabba seemed to consider his words. His gaze casually drifted back to Luke but his forced laughter faded as he realized the kid was walking towards them. Chewbacca didn’t seem to notice, still preoccupied with a very suspicious and unhappy attendant.

Han felt his eyes widen as he shook his head at Luke. Don’t help me, he thought, please don’t help me .

Too late. Here he was. Han thought Luke must just now be realizing how small he was-- Jabba practically towered over him. The Hutt raised an eyebrow expectantly as the boy stopped in front of them. Han made his way over to Luke’s side before he could say anything, “Hey kid, we’re gonna leave soon. If you could just wait over there by the crates that would be--”

“Hi,” Luke began to both of them at the same time, “I just wanted to say that what’s happening over there is a complete misunderstanding. I think. To be honest, I don’t really speak this language.”

Han grabbed Luke by the arm a little firmly and spoke through gritted teeth, “It’s Huttese, kid. Now go wait by Chewie.”

“Your captain gave you an order, boy,” Jabba looked between the two. Luke looked to Han a little helplessly, not understanding.

Han started to push Luke back toward Chewbacca while speaking in a hushed tone, “He said I gave you an order. Now you’ve disobeyed two of those.”

Han firmly planted Luke next to the wookie who was finally coming to an understanding with the bounty hunter, “Stay.”

“No, I can help--”

“No! Stay. Or so help me I will leave you behind. I will do it. Don’t test me.”

Luke looked like he wanted to argue more but didn’t. He rolled his eyes instead and crossed his arms, leaning against Chewie who growled in surprised protest once more. Luke jumped back, “Sorry…”

Once Han was sure Chewbacca’s eyes were back on Luke, he put on an apologetic face and returned to Jabba, “Soooo sorry about that--”

“Don’t bother with all that Han, my boy. I now know where your priorities lie.”

Han’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I can see you’re too busy babysitting to get my money.”

“What-- no! No! That isn’t true. Look, he really is just a temporary problem. And the money he pays me-- guess where it’s going? Towards you ! All yours!”

Of course, it wasn’t all going toward Jabba. Han knew that. But he also knew better than to say that out loud to an already impatient Hutt.

“If you think a little womp rat like that can pay the price on your head, you’ve got another thing coming--”

“Hello again.”

Han and Jabba both turned to see Luke once more standing in front of them. Chewbacca was behind him, to whom Han threw an incredulous look. Chewie shrugged.

Jabba turned back to Han, “You have a mutiny on your hands now.”

“If I may, sir--” Luke began.

“You may not ,” Han retorted.

“No,” Jabba cut in, “Allow him to humor me.”

Chewbacca muttered something as Han rolled his eyes and gestured to Luke to continue.

The kid took on a new air then. He stood up a little straighter and spoke clearly, “I am being transferred by Mr. Solo and Chewbacca to my home planet-- top secret location for the sole reason that I am a local prince. A rather large sum is being offered to him for my safe transport. The only reason he was holding me back was to protect my identity. It’s alright, Captain Solo. I think our priorities are clear here now.”

Han was stunned. Where did this come from?? He wanted to yell at the kid, to tell him off for ruining his plan…but then he noticed the greed that was now overtaking Jabba’s face. He actually believed him.

Han quickly altered course to back the kid up, “Sorry, you know. I just get so stressed. Your parents expect you in one piece, you know. Anyway Jabba, the money from this little chore is going towards the price on my head.”

It felt like an eternity waiting for Jabba to respond, Han’s throat feeling dry. Finally, the Hutt spoke up, “Good luck with your mission, Captain Solo. Don’t fail me.”

Of course it was once again all about him , the slimeball. But that didn’t matter. He was finally going away. And his bounty hunters were following him.

…

Luke watched as the Hutt and his men took off, making “eye contact” with the helmeted one a final time. Once they were out of sight, Han turned to him and Chewie, “On the ship.” The two did as they were told.

As they stepped inside, Luke scanned the ship’s interior with his eyes. In places, it looked like it was falling apart, held together only by temporary means. He muttered, “What a piece of junk…”

Han glared at him, “Hey. She may not look like much but she’s got it where it counts, kid.”

“At least it’s getting me off this rock…”

Luke began to feel the tiniest bit of regret rise in him once more. The farm was so within reach…he felt Han staring at him and pushed the feelings of regret down again.

“Come with me, kid.”

Luke did so, following Han into the cockpit. There were four seats and an array of buttons and controls. Luke felt his disappointment start to become replaced by wonder. It was a new kind of ship for him. He took a seat behind Han and Chewie.

“You’re a pretty good actor, you know,” Han said, “You could do it for a living. You ever put on a show like that before?”

Luke shook his head, “No I just…I just had the idea and I did it.”

It was true. Something inside Luke had made its way to the front of his mind, instructed him on how to rescue them all from that situation. Some intuition. Han shook him out of his state of reflection.

“It was also stupid.”

“What? How was it stupid? I got us out of there, didn’t I?”

“Sure but not without raising more questions. You lied to a Hutt’s face when you didn't even know how dangerous he was. And saying you’re a prince can attract a lot of unwanted attention from kidnappers, bounty hunters, and thieves.”

Luke hadn’t thought of that. Now it made perfect sense. Han seemed to notice that his words were sinking in, “See, this is why I didn’t want you to say anything. You may have just made things worse.”

Luke felt himself droop slightly. He didn’t know why he cared about the words of this man he just met but they still hurt. The three of them fell into silence as the Millenium Falcon ascended into the sky. Luke, lost in his own thoughts didn’t notice as Han’s expression had the slightest tinge of regret in it. He’d make it up to the kid somehow.