Luke opened his eyes and realized he didn't know where he was. He looked around slowly and started to figure it out. He looked over at the smuggler whose hair was laying flat from the fresher as he got dressed and said, hesitatingly, "Han?"
"Yeah, kid?" Han asked without turning to look at him.
Luke took another look around the room and asked, "Why am I in Chewbacca's bed?"
"It saves time," Han answered without missing a beat.
"Huh?" Luke asked, confused.
"Never mind," Han replied as he sat down long enough to get his boots on. He finally turned and looked at the kid and asked him, "How're you doing?"
"I..." Luke shook his head, "I don't know." He turned and looked at the Corellian and asked, "Han, can I ask you a question?"
He wasn't sure he was going to like wherever this was going to go, but he responded, "Yeah...sure, what is it?"
"Did you...I mean have you...of all the things you've smuggled...I mean would you ever..." the question wasn't coming easily, but even without Luke getting to the actual point of it, Han had a good idea what the kid was trying to ask.
He looked at the farm boy and told him, "I'm insulted, kid, I'm appalled," and it wasn't one of his usual sarcastic comments, the outrage was genuine, "let's get something straight right now. Never in my whole career have I even ever entertained the notion of trafficking people. You got that?"
Luke pursed his lips together and meekly nodded.
"Good, I'm glad we got that cleared up," Han replied firmly.
"It's just..." Luke couldn't let it go, "when I was there, I heard them say they could fetch 2,000 credits for each one of us once we docked...and, if money's the only thing you care about and you are just out for yourself, then why-"
Han was in his face so fast Luke thought the Corellian was going to punch him and he scooted back on the bed and flinched.
"What the hell are you doing?" Han asked him, whatever his initial statement was going to be already forgotten by the kid's strange behavior.
Luke opened his eyes he hadn't even realized he'd squeezed shut in dreaded anticipation. Han still hovered over him, demanding to know, "Where do you get off thinking money's the only thing I care about?"
"You said so!" Luke pointed out, "Lots of times."
"So since when do you listen to me? I'm a liar!"
Luke shot him a look that silently conveyed that that didn't make any sense whatsoever, but at the same time he knew it was true, that's why he'd kept pushing for Han to change his mind about helping him rescue Leia and stay to fight against the Death Star.
Han sighed and told him, "Move over."
Luke scooted to the side and Han sat down on the edge of Chewie's bed and told him, "Look, kid, even without the Imperials and the Empire to worry about, this galaxy is an ugly place and it'll eat you alive if it gets half the chance, trust me, I've been around long enough and I've traveled enough that I've seen most of the worst it has to offer. No," he shook his head and softly added, "trafficking people's where I draw the line, even I have limits."
Luke slowly nodded and merely replied, "Good to know."
"The fact I'm in debt up to my eyeballs with a guy named Jabba the Hutt, and have been as long as I have, and needed your fare to get things squared with him, speaks volumes to the limits I have," Han told him, "If I weren't, I could've gotten the price off my head long ago. So, I guess that's the testament to my ethics."
"It's something," Luke said.
"Yeah, something that's going to get me disemboweled if I don't find a better paying mission soon," Han replied.
"You're leaving?" It was half a question, half an accusation.
"You and the princess belong here, being part of something big, fighting for the greater good, me?" Han shrugged, "I'm just a low level smuggler, hauling cargo in half the time of everyone else, that's what I'm good at."
"But it also makes you a good addition to the Rebel alliance," Luke pointed out.
"Kid," Han sighed, "I had the full military career once upon a time."
"Which military?"
"That's not important," Han replied, "the point is I already did it, and that's how I wound up where I am, being part of something bigger ain't all it's cracked up to be. I work better alone."
He felt something biting at him when he saw the kid turn away with that disappointed look on his face, and he hadn't missed the way the kid's eyes shone in the light as the sudden onset of tears developed. He didn't like anything about this, he couldn't stay here with these people but he didn't like the idea of leaving this kid alone. Luke did not belong here, he was too young, too sheltered, too inexperienced, sure, he was smart, sure, he got a few lucky breaks during that whole rescue mission and the dog star fight, sure, if he lived long enough and got enough training and experience, he could go far in this field. There was no good answer, Luke shouldn't be here but he had no home to go back to and there wasn't anywhere else in the galaxy where he belonged, but he wouldn't last long here without someone to keep an eye on him, and Han already had a burning feeling who that poor son of a bitch was going to wind up being.
Something else was eating at him. The same thing that had been gnawing at him since the night Luke went missing. He remembered Her Royal Highness waltzing into the bar like she actually belonged there and walked right up to him and announced she'd been trying to reach both he and Luke, and where was he? They'd gone in together but after a few drinks and catching up with a few acquaintances in passing, Han hadn't paid any attention to where the kid had gone. Hey, he was old enough to drink, he could look after himself. They searched the whole bar and reached the unsettling conclusion that Luke wasn't there, furthermore, they couldn't find anyone who had seen him leave.
They'd returned to the base and turned the whole place inside out with Chewie's help, no sign of Luke anywhere.
"This is all your fault," Leia told him that night, and the day after that, and the day after that, and for much of the next three weeks as they went from worrying the Empire had gotten Luke, to making contact with the rescue ship and realizing there was a strong possibility their young commander had been sold into slavery.
"How is this my fault? I'm not the kid's keeper."
"You should be," she told him, standing on her tiptoes to glare at him in the face," he went with you, he looks up to you!"
"Nobody looks up to me, that's part of my natural Corellian charm," he snidely responded.
"This is no time for jokes!" Leia yelled at him.
"Well look, princess, you two are about the same age, you really think your breeding is the only thing that makes you more qualified to be out in public unattended than him?" Han asked her. "He's an adult, he doesn't need a keeper."
"He needs a friend!" Leia hit him on the shoulder, hard, "Everything and everyone he had are gone, we're all that's left, you were supposed to look out for him!"
"He stopped being my responsibility the minute we reached where Alderaan was supposed to be," Han replied. "He stopped being my responsibility again after we saved you and got off the Death Star. He stopped being my responsibility again after the dog fight. Do you notice a theme here, princess?"
"Yes, it's that you're a selfish son of a bantha," she answered, "all you care about is yourself."
"You got it sweetheart," Han replied sardonically, "because then I only have to worry about keeping one person alive, myself."
"And what happens now?" she asked him in a barbed tone, "What if Luke gets killed?"
Han shook his head, "Won't happen."
"You sound mighty sure of yourself," she said accusingly.
"Dead slaves don't turn a profit, if that is where Luke wound up-" Han was cut off.
"Wound up? He was kidnapped!" Leia reminded him. "Because you weren't watching him!"
"This kid single handedly figured out how to tie those droids to you and you to that crazy old man he brought on my ship. He was willing to risk his life and mine to come save you on the Death Star. He doesn't need anyone watching him."
"Oh? Because he's so capable of taking care of himself, right?" Leia snapped, "And so where is he now?"
"That is not my fault," Han replied.
"Oh yes it is," Leia insisted, "if you'd been watching him, none of this would've happened, and if anything happens to him now, it's going to be all your fault!"
Every word in and of its own right should've cut like a knife. But Han was collected enough to calmly point out, "You're being irrational."
"I KNOW IT!" Leia responded, and as soon as the words came out and she heard them herself, her eyes widened, and Han would be damned, her bottom lip was starting to tremble, along with her chin.
Han sighed in exasperation and told her, "Come here." She didn't fight as he put his arms around her and pulled her against him. He could feel her whole tiny body shaking against him as her walls started to crumble. "Hey, listen to me," he said softly, "We're going to find him, Luke's smart, he's tougher than he looks, he's going to be alright."
There were tears in Leia's voice as she pressed her face into his shoulder and asked, "What if he's not? What if he's dead?"
"He's not," Han shook his head and tried to insist, "it won't happen."
"How do you know?" she asked.
Han looked up towards the ceiling and tried to sound like his usual sarcastic self as he answered, "I'm a Corellian, I know everything."
It worked, just a little but it worked and he heard the princess choke on a mix of her tears and a small laugh.
"We'll find him, don't worry," Han told her as he hugged her a little tighter, "slave ships are notoriously slow, it avoids detection by the authorities on the basis anybody moving anything illegal would do it as quickly as possible to avoid getting caught, if it's out there, we'll find it, we'll find him."
That was then, and this was now. It had been three weeks of pure hell, partly because Leia wouldn't stop screaming at him and blaming him for Luke's disappearance, and partly because they had no way of knowing just what had happened to their friend and what he'd been subjected to or for that matter if he was in fact still alive.
The Corellian smuggler was drawn out of those memories by a sudden sound from the person next to him on the bed.
"What is it?" he asked, wishing he could be anywhere right now but having this conversation.
"It's just..." Luke choked on a small sob and struggled to explain, "those kids...I was the oldest one there, and there wasn't anything I could do to help them...I couldn't save them..."
Han shook his head slowly, "Just because you were there doesn't make it your job, kid."
"Why not? I'm, a fighter pilot, I'm a...commander, I should've been able to do something."
"Kid, they put one of those shock collars on you for a reason, that means you did try something, they put a stop to it, and if you'd tried any harder, you'd be dead now too, and that wouldn't have helped anybody," Han told him. "You stayed alive, you did what you had to do."
"It's not enough," Luke tearfully replied.
"It never is..." Han sighed, "but we can only pick so many battles. It doesn't make it easier, I know, but that's just the way it is, you can't save everybody."
"And why should I believe you?" Luke asked, making a very bitter and feeble attempt at cynicism, "You admitted you're a liar."
"Now why would you believe that, kid?" Han asked him, and added, "I lied."
Luke tried to laugh but it got choked on a hiccuping sob. Han resigned himself to the fact neither of them was going anywhere anytime soon and he reached over and hooked the back of the kid's neck in the crook of his elbow and let Luke rest against him as he cried. They might've gotten the kid back, and physically his injuries may have been ancient history, but it was obvious they weren't out of the swamp just yet. The last few weeks had taken a toll on everybody, and it seemed they were all still recovering, not just the young commander.