Blaster fire had long ago become a very familiar sound to Han Solo, ever since his early days knocking heads together in every cantina from here to Corellia, way back before he'd ever heard of the Millennium Falcon or dreamed of flying her as his own.

Back then, the gun's sharp rapport had caused him no small amount of grief, as typical fistfights quickly escalated into all out war in a matter of seconds after only a single shot was fired, the frenzied clamor and the high whine of multiple shots that followed making his ears ring terribly for some time after he managed to sneak away from the fight with his pockets heavy with goods he'd managed to slip from their outraged owners' pockets.

But, despite the many amusing and somewhat sordid tales such brawls had given him, those experiences did very little to truly prepare him for actual combat, with Imperial Stormtroopers on every side and a whole lot of good people counting on you to hold them back.

He knew he should have packed up his rewards and flown off when he had the chance.

Rebel Alliances and their frequent skirmishes with the Empire did not a rich man make, as it turned out.

Luckily, unlike in the past, this time he had some backup; and while the nameless Rebel soldiers were always nice to have with him, he was referring mainly to his shaggy co-pilot currently snarling his displeasure at the situation very loudly, and the kid - young man, he kept insisting - who'd dragged them into this mess in the first place.

The most marked difference between past and present wasn't the addition of allies, however; it was the weapons.

While Han and Chewbacca and the other Rebel shmucks had standard blasters to fight with, they had absolutely nothing on what Luke was wielding.

A lightsaber - the mystical weapon of the fallen Jedi Order - whizzing back and forth in a haze of blue, deflecting blaster shots like it was a walk in the park.

Whether or not he'd admit it, Han couldn't deny there was a certain style to the blade, and certain refinement, that made the wild shooting going back and forth between sides look rather... sloppy. Maybe that old Wizard from Tatooine had known a thing or two when he said they were elegant.

But now was not the time to reminisce about crazy old men and hokey religions; the flashing cerulean blade was a huge difference from the usual flying red bolts of deadly energy, and so the blue lightshow had become the biggest target on this entire battlefield.

Normally, this wouldn't have bothered Han; anything that drew the worst fire away from him was usually pretty useful.

The fact that it was his friend that was drawing that much attention- well. That just wouldn't do at all.

Luckily for Luke, Han knew his way around ducking behind cover and running through blaster fire; he managed to get close enough to the young Jedi wannabe that he got to drag him back behind cover with him.

"What are you doing?! I was fine!" the blonde protested immediately, struggling out of the older man's grip.

"You were about to be massacred, is what you were doing! Don't forget, kid, I saw you with the training droid; I know how well you deflect multiple shots coming at you!" Han snapped back, for once not trying for a joke. They were pinned down here; if something clever didn't present itself soon, they wouldn't be able to escape before Imperial reinforcements arrived.

With a sullen expression, Luke pulled out his own blaster as Han turned back to the battle, aiming and firing as well as he could from the awkward angle the two of them were at.

"Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten us into!" The kid snipped, ducking a shot that likely would have taken his head off.

The comment was almost enough to make Han's steady aim falter as he sent an incredulous glare at his counterpart. "What?! Hey- it's not my fault! You were supposed to study the holomaps!"

Luke look absolutely indignant. "I did! Remember? When I reminded you about the huge Imperial blockade? And you said, 'don't worry, kid! We won't be anywhere near that!'"

Han did not appreciate the mocking tone, thank you oh-so much, and he made sure Luke knew about it too. "My voice does not like that!" he protested.

"Uh, yeah, it kinda does. I hear it every day, I know how you sound!" Luke countered, and hell, that was a nice shot he just made. It almost made up for the complete lack of respect he'd shown Han. Oh wait; no it didn't.

"I'll have you know that I have a lovely voice!" Han retorted.

Luke scoffed. "Oh, I know you do, but now doesn't seem to be the time to start singing opera!"

Any comeback he would have made seemed to get scrambled up in Han's brain - Luke thought he had a lovely voice? - but luckily his distraction didn't get him killed.

On the contrary, the sudden roar of ship sublights and the echo of ship cannons firing seem to take up far more of the Imp's attention than they did.

Luke made a grab for Han's arm. "We can make it to Falcon while Leia covers us, come on!"

Han managed to stir himself into action at that, long years of running from Imps and debt collectors giving him a natural instinct to escape any unpleasant situations at the drop of a hat.

But - and he wouldn't admit this to anyone, especially not himself - the thought of Luke thinking his voice was lovely stayed with him long after the Falcon had roared away into the darkness of space.

A/N: WELCOME TO SKYSOLO WEEK, MY FRIENDS! Yes that's right; I ship Han Solo and Luke Skywalker and I don't fuckin care what anyone has to say about it.
This one is kind of lame and cheesy, I will admit. I'm pressed for time and kind of forgot to write until the last second, so you'll have to live with that. Oh well; hope you liked it anyway! See you tomorrow!
~Persephone