Mud. Think of mud.
Han's head was beginning to ache under the pressure. Sweat began forming in small beads across his forehead and under his collar. Tension, thick as Alderaanian stew, rose exponentially between himself and his opponent. Unable to handle the strain any longer, he blinked.
Laughter flowed fast in a giggly, almost melodious tune.
"Blast," the boy exclaimed, rubbing his eyes, "She's won again."
"You to are so weird," retorted Nial dismissively.
In mock-anger, Han told him, "Hey, you're callin' us weird? Ain't you the one who paints pictures and plays like a hundred instruments?"
The year-old Leia laughed again, as if she understood their conversation.
"Sure - it's normal-ish enough. At least I don't compete with babies on the keyboard."
No longer bedridden and yet unable to go outisde the palace, Han had taken time to play even more with his sister, being that she seemed to be the only other playmate during the day. Due to a lack of communiation, that two had taken to staring at each other, which had quickly evolved into contests. So far, it was a game that Leia had been winning, much to her brother's chagrin.
"Someday I'll win this contest when big softy-eyes here is older."
Nial nodded, cleaning out his flute. "Sure you will."
Behind his cousin's back, Han pulled back his cheeks and wagged out his tongue. Once again, Leia was very, very amused. What was even more amusing was when she attempted to imitate him and a certain protocol droid walked in.
"Master Han, I do not think that Her Highness nor you, for that matter, should be inserting your fingers inside your mouths. It is very unclean, and the odds of catching a disease from such a--"
"Hey there, See-Threepio," interrupted Nial, already tired of the droid's boring speech.
"Greetings, Master Nial. I see that you are cleaning your instrument - may I be of any assistance?"
Blowing a bit of dust off the mouthpiece, the eight-year-old replied, "Uh, I think I'm good. What's for lunch?"
"I believe that Chef Caoimhe has prepared a new recipe - some sort of thing called 'chili.' To my knowledge, the dish is served traditionally on Felucia. I am afraid it has quite a lot of spices."
Feeling himself growing hungry, Han held Leia and inserted her into his lap. "Time for lunch, Princess." Using the simple controls of the hoverchair, he was downstairs faster than Nial could say, "Hey, Han! Wait for me!"
"So..." Breha cleared her throat, "how does everyone like it?"
"When you say 'it' dear, are you referring to this strange soup? Or shall I call it soup?" Rouge, who had been slowly shifting the viscous contents of her bowl around with a spoon, had barely eaten any of the chili at all.
With his usual knack for timing and table manners, Han readily supplied his opinion. "Whatever it's called, it's pretty good! Y'know I'm actually feelin' kinda hungry, so could I get some more please?"
"You may," intoned his aunt.
He rolled his eyes as the server droid ladled more of the reddish substance into the porcelain. As Han began to dig in, albeit a little more politely, Bail took the opportunity to raise the subject that had been bothering him for the past six weeks.
"Han, do you remember what I told you about those people? The ones who tried to hurt you and Leia?"
Slurping another spoonful in, he replied, "Yeah. What happened to them?"
"Well, right now they are being held in prison. But a trial will be held for them in another two months. It's been requested that you testify in order for the jury to create a fitting punishment. Are you willing to do that?"
"Whaddaya mean by testify?"
"It means that you will have to tell a room of people about what happened the day of the explosion and just what you did to stay alive. Just recount that day is all."
Han considered this a couple of moments. As soon as he finished the chili, he said, "Yeah, I'll do it. How bad can it be?"
Court proceedings were generally boring in the extreme. This trial was more for show than anything else, Bail Organa was unhappy to admit. However, it was the law that these terrorists would be afforded a trial by jury. He only wished that Han didn't have to be called upon as a witness. Despite his confidence in the boy, he knew that the lawyer of the culprits was one of a growing many who was under the impression that the royal line ought to be extinguished. Mazalki would stop at nothing to win the case, which included destroying the credibility of an eight year old boy.
Mazalki was a clever man who didn't much care for his clients or his cases on a level that actually registered with his memory. Instead, he was one of those kinds of lawyers who had the wonderful ability to manipulate and used rhetoric. Yet in doing so, he had no regard whatsoever towards his soul, a thing which people often doubted the existence of.
Breathing slowly, Bail lifted his head from his hands and stood erect to face forward, opposite the jury panel. The brief recess was almost over, and it was time to get Han on the stand, in front of the entire galaxy. It's going to be all right, he told himself for the umpteenth time that day.
Bail turned in his seat to wave Han forward. With the assistance of a crutch, Han limped into the witnesses chair. He gulped nervously. The skin under his collar was heating up uncomfortably; in fact, the entire room seemed to be getting increasingly warmer. There were a lot of people to talk to, that was for sure. For having such a big room, it certainly looked a lot smaller when it was filled with people. All along the back wall sat two rows of people who Bail had told him were the jury.
When Han had asked what "jury" meant, he'd been told that the jury were the people who decided whether a defendant was guilty or not. Then Han had asked what happened when a person was guilty and the jury said he wasn't, and what about the other way around? Bail had sighed and told him that it was why people created Empires. Han still had a lot to understand about law, but there were some things he thought that he might never understand.
"Your name please?" A solemn man with rat-like features and a thing figure stood in front of him, a dusty tome in his hand.
"H-H..." he cleared his throat loudly, "Han Solo." Don't show 'em you're scared.
Remembering all that Bail had told him, Han placed his hand on the top of the massive book - it was the official recording of Alderaanian law, the ultimate collection of amendments, scrolls, and so on. As the little man asked him to repeat the oath, Han's voice grew steadily louder and clearer. He could do this. Finally, the man whisked the book away, enabling Bjoren Mazalki to begin questioning.