Han Solo had done a lot of things in his lifetime, but sitting back and watching a kid try to block blaster bolts with a laser-sword while blindfolded was definitely a first. The tiny training orb let out non-lethal zaps periodically, roaming around so that it never hit the same place twice. Every couple of seconds, a sharp hiss would sound followed by a yelp--it was funny the first few times, but Han didn’t much care for the expected.
“Ya know, you’d probably have gotten one by now without that bucket on your head,” Han growled, rising from his seat to stand in front of the blinded kid. He had to duck as Luke took a swing at him, mistaking his presence for the droid’s. “Hey! Watch it!”
He snatched the helmet off of the kid’s head and glared at him. It must’ve really been been doing its job because Luke had to cover his eyes with his hands, adjusting his vision to the low light of the Falcon.
“Ben said I had to use the Force to sense it!” Luke chirped defiantly, turning off his lightsaber and reaching for the helmet cradled under Han’s arm. Luke placed his hand on top of it, but before he could get a grip, Solo put his free hand on Luke’s shoulder, pulling the farm boy close enough to make out the annoyance in the smuggler’s face.
“Why use some ‘Force’ when you have your eyes?” He jabbed Luke in the bridge of the nose. The kid let out a sound of surprise as his hands went from holding his sore nose to catching the helmet Solo tossed his way.
As Han settled back into his seat, he threw a look over to Chewie to see if there was anything better he could be doing. Unfortunately, the wookiee had come to the conclusion there wasn’t, and was half asleep on the lounge--mumbling something about trash compactors in Shyriiwook.
“I’m supposed to trust in the Force,” Luke explained, his helmet was back on and his blue lightsaber reignited. “It’s this power that connects everything in the galaxy: you, me, Ben, Chewbacca, everything! You just don’t understand,” The training droid had started up again, its piston-like sounds whistling. Finally, the droid hissed its bolt, Luke reacted, bringing his lightsaber to intercept it--a brilliant blue arc filled Han’s eyes as the lightsaber moved with fluid purpose, and for a split second, Solo actually believed the kid might know what he was talking about.
“Blast!”
Then again, he probably didn’t.
Han stood up again wearing a smirk, he went to lean against the Falcon’s metal frame. “Kid, there’s only three things you should trust: your ship, your blaster, and yourself.” He jumped as Chewie let out a particularly mouthy roar.
“Of course I trust you, furball,” Han tapped the side of his head with two fingers. “You’re the only one helping me keep this on my shoulders.”
The wookiee was satisfied by the response and turned over in his bunk. Han decided there wasn’t much else to see so he turned to leave the room.
“That sounds like a lonely life,” Luke’s voice was soft, even as the droid popped and hissed around him. “I don’t think I’d be happy if I could only believe in myself…”
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Solo didn’t bother to turn around--Luke couldn’t have seen him anyways. “Yeah, well,” He had paused but continued walking. “Life ain’t about being happy, kid--it’s about staying alive.” With that, the smuggler left the aspiring Jedi to his studies.
----
“We should reach Denon in a couple more days. My contact should have that ship for cheap like you want,” Han Solo strolled into the room he had offered Ben Kenobi for the duration of the trip. “I still don’t know why you don’t just let me take you there--wherever it is you’re trying to get to.”
The old Jedi sat cross legged on the floor of the Falcon, the cot he was provided looked untouched. Han couldn’t help but feel like the old man thought he was too good for the smuggler’s comforts. Ben opened his eyes but remained in his meditative position, addressing Han in the calm voice he always seemed to have.
“Luke and I will need to reach our destination alone and unfollowed,” The old man informed Solo. “I’m afraid with your 50,000 bounty, we’d run the risk of being followed.” His voice grew stern, “that cannot happen.”
Han moved from standing over the old Jedi to standing to his side. He turned to face the same direction as Ben and let out a sigh. “You really think there’s anywhere in this galaxy Jabba won’t find you? You heard him back there; no bounty hunter is gonna pass up those 20,000 credits on your head any time soon.”
The old Jedi smiled. “I appreciate the concern, but Luke and I will be alright.” He stood up, faster than Han would’ve expected of someone his age. “These ships, where are they from?”
“The Muren Clan--Mandalorians--you’re getting ‘em through a middleman,” Solo slowly paced until he was in front of the old Jedi. “I got a contact employed by them, said these ships will be goin’ fast the next couple of months. Apparently the Empire’s making moves and the market’s oversaturated ‘cause of some group goin’ out of business.”
Everything Han said was true, the details were sparse enough to leave the old man curious but satisfied. If the old man asked too many questions, he might get skittish about purchasing decommissioned Rebellion war ships. And if the Jedi got skittish, then Han wouldn’t get his 1,500 cut of the credits--it wouldn’t put a dent in his debt to Jabba, but it’d be enough to shut a few people up until he and Chewie figured out their next move.
“Are you afraid?” Ben asked. Han gave him a defensive look before responding gruffly.
“Afraid of what?” He didn’t like being called a coward.
The old Jedi didn’t respond.
“If you’re asking if I’m afraid of Jabba and the fact every spaceport and cantina has my face plastered on it,” He puffed out his chest slightly. “Then don’t ask.” With that, Han stormed out of the room.
These passengers were beginning to get on his last nerve.
As he barged his way back into the lounge, he was starting to think that maybe he was just losing his mind altogether.
In the middle of the room was Luke, helmet on, laser-sword ignited, and next to him was Chewbacca, blindfolded with a piece of cloth, holding a piece of the Falcon that the wookiee would probably say “fell off”. The training droid buzzed around them both, popping and hissing out its practice bolts.
Luke was laughing and smiling, and Chewie was doing the wookiee equivalent--except angrier. Every time the bolt came out towards Chewie, he would let out a pained whine, and swing his small metal shield wildly, careful not to swing in Luke’s direction.
Whenever the bolt came out towards Luke, the farm boy swung his weapon as well, but not wildly. Each time, the blue beam intercepted the droid’s bolt, and the kid would let out a small laugh and grin a little wider.
Seeing the two of them side by side, Han couldn’t deny how impossible it looked. If he hadn’t seen the old Jedi deflect Boba Fett’s blaster shots right in front of his face, Han probably still would’ve been skeptical. But seeing Luke, who not even a few minutes ago was fumbling and getting shocked, deflect each bolt that came at him--Han Solo started to believe that maybe there was something to this “Force” thing after all.