Whumptober No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
"Mayday, mayday!" | Cave In | Rusty Nail

No major warnings today! I hope you enjoy 3

Han slammed his fist against the walls of rocks again, shouting more from frustration than pain when it came away bloody. With how often he'd pummelled, punched, kicked, hit, and body slammed the rocks by now, it was honestly a miracle he hadn't broken anything.

"If you keep at that, you'll just bring more rocks down on us," Luke said weakly from the wall. Han cast him a worried look—he sounded so much worse than he had a mere few minutes ago. Chewie had him cradled in his lap, keeping him warm and entertained with light conversation, but even then it didn't look good.

Han didn't respond. He just hit the rocks again, this time with his full body. One of them shifted; he yelped in triumph.

More rocks fell from above. Chewie leaned over to shield Luke, and Han dived to the side; they barely avoided getting crushed even more.

Luke coughed—hard enough Han thought he was going to lose a lung. "I told you—"

"You've told us a lot of things, Luke," Han snapped. "Oh, don't go into that cave, we'll get stuck in there. Don't bother using the comms, no one will get our mayday calls, and we'll drain our batteries. We're gonna die alone in here. I don't wanna listen to you anymore."

Chewie chastised him for being mean, but Luke didn't respond. He just leaned back and stared at the ceiling of the cave with glassy eyes."

"I don't want to be a downer, Han, but— but—"

"But what?"

"I keep seeing things!" Luke snapped. "These caves, this place. High Command said the Empire was interested in this planet because of their mines, right? They thought they had kyberite veins."

"Yeah, yeah, we all attended the briefing. At least, one of us did. You were clearly asleep, because the Empire abandoned this place because it wasn't that precious substance they were looking for, it was… that other one."

"Ranite."

"Whatever."

"They were wrong."

"High Command? Yeah they were wrong. Look at us!" Han thought of Leia's face, pleading with him to go check out this one potential base for them, and take Luke too, while you're at it? He needs to get out a bit and you're the best person to keep an eye on him… "The caves aren't dangerous. Right."

"Not as dangerous as your kriffing toolbox," Luke muttered.

Han winced at that. There was no proof—which he would declare later, loudly and proudly, once Luke was fully healed and happy—that Luke had got sick from rooting through Han's absolutely filthy, haphazard toolbox. The fact that Chewie refused to go near that thing aside, Luke had sustained only minor injuries from the random blades and screws and nails in there; it shouldn't have caused an infection this… this…

Oh, who was he kidding?

"The Empire were wrong," Luke reiterated. At least he wasn't talking about the toolbox. "Ranite's similar to kyberite, but this isn't ranite." He glanced up at the ceiling again, where cracks in the dark rock revealed the transparent rock above them. "It's kyberite."

"I didn't know you were such a geologist. You got this stuff on Tatooine?"

"No, I—"

"Why don't you go tell the Empire they were wrong? Betcha they'd love that."

"Kyberite produces kyber crystals. They're the source of power for a lightsaber. I found it in Ben's diary." He closed his eyes. "This is kyberite. I can sense it. The Force is… acute… here."

"Fairy tales are never cute, kid."

"I can feel myself dying, Han!" Luke snapped. "I can feel the infection moving through me! I can't do anything about it, I can't stop it because I never learned how, I can't do anything but watch, because the volume of the Force is turned up to max and I can't turn it down!" He broke off with a sob. Chewie grabbed him before he bent over double, hurting himself. He looked almost feverish, his skin white and beaded with sweat, hair dark with it.

"Kid," Han tried. "I didn't know it was that bad."

"I can see the future! So many different endings! It's like looking into a kaleidoscope."

"I never got the appeal of those," Han said. "They weren't that fun to play with."

"You hit that wall and brought more rocks down on us," Luke snarled. "If you hit it again, you'll bring the kriffing ceiling down!" Han cocked an eyebrow, raised a hand, and Chewie barked at him don't you dare. "If you comm for help—"

"Y'know what? That's a harmless one. We're not gonna die here, Luke. Your hokey visions are concerning, yeah, but maybe you should get that checked out. There's no magical energy field running through those rocks," he pointed upwards, "or through you. I'm gonna comm for help."

"Han—"

"You're dying, Luke. I'm gonna comm for help."

"It won't get through."

"We're not that far into the cave," Han retorted, rooting around in his pockets for the emergency comm Her Royal Highnessness had given them for this mission. "We're not that far in, and we're not that far down. There's nothing to worry about."

He dialled for help. The comlink buzzed, but nothing happened.

"Kyberite distorts signals," Luke said. "The more impurities—and there's plenty of impurities here, I can sense them too—the worse it is."

"What, you read about that in one of those wizard's journals? I think he had permanent sunstroke. I definitely never saw him wearing a hat like yours." Han dialled again. Again, nothing. Still, he tried to speak into it: "Princess, get the hell out here, Luke is—"

"It didn't suit his style," Luke said, not missing a beat, but also not smiling. "Ben didn't write about it. I saw it in my visions."

"Can your visions tell us how to get out, then? Because the comlink's a dud." He tossed it aside. It flickered and died. No power left.

Luke grimaced.

"We die in all of them," he said quietly.

Han sucked in a breath through his nostrils. "Oh? And that's the only option, is it?"

"I don't know, but—Han, stop!"

Han seized the nearest rock in the barricade, hefted it up, and staggered back before the cascade of smaller rocks crushed him. "I'm getting us out of here, Luke. You're not dying in here."

He had never known Luke to be defeatist in any sense of the word, but the power that delusion had on him was depressing. "No! If you do that, my visions say—"

"Your visions are weird!" he told him. "I don't want them! I don't want to hear about them!"

"You think I want them either? You think I'm as weak as this because of the disease? Dying hurts, Han, and hearing how I'm gonna die over and over hurts even more!"

"Are all Jedi like this?" Han asked Chewie.

He didn't expect an answer, but Chewie gave him one. Apparently, no. Force visions were usually vague, and one shouldn't feel themselves dying in as much detail as that. That seemed like a terrible curse to bear. Perhaps their little Luke was significantly more in tune with the Force than other Jedi.

Han pointed a finger at him. "Not helping. You've never even met a Jedi, furball."

Chewie had, actually. His life didn't begin when he met Han, a fact which Han hissed out a breath and rolled his eyes at.

"Don't listen to Chewie," Han said. "Force or no Force. You're not dying here. I don't know anything about visions, but I know that."

Luke's crushing despair was probably the most disturbing part of all of this. He could deal with the kid staring into space. He could deal with the kid talking to himself. He could deal with a friend who was a little mad—weren't they all? But hells if he knew how to deal with a kid who knew exactly what was gonna happen.

It'd be a weird kinda hell, knowing when and how he was gonna die. It was an even weirder hell being friends with the guy who was living in it.

"You're in pain. I get it, Luke. I don't know why it hurts so much; I don't know what these magic rocks have to do with it. But you're gonna get better!" He said it as an order, channelling General Rieekan. Annoyingly upright as that man was, he was a kriffing good leader. "We're gonna get out of here, Luke."

"But—"

"I told you before! There ain't no mystical energy field controlling my destiny!" he shouted. "And I'll be damned before I let it control yours!"

Luke stared at him, face slack, mouth agape.

All of Han's fight left him. He shifted, self-conscious. "What?"

"I had a new vision," Luke said, staring in that creepy-as-hell way again.

"Yeah, well, look at me properly and tell me what it was."

Luke's eyes focused again. "Keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Taking away the stones."

Han frowned. "Aren't you afraid…"

It was Chewie who cut him off, telling him to just do it. Chewie gave Luke a pat on the head and shuffled out from underneath him, coming up to help Han as well.

Han shrugged, still confused, and yanked the first stone out. He ducked, shielding his head against the inevitable barrage of stones—but they never came.

He poked his head up. They were hovering in mid-air. When he glanced behind him, Luke had forced himself to his feet, hands outstretched, staring at them with that spacey expression again.

"What the hells?" Han asked. Chewie told him to shut up.

"You're right, Han," Luke murmured. Han saw something like rippling white light fall over his blond hair, his flight suit; when he looked up, he could've sworn the kyberite veins above them were glowing. "The Force doesn't control our destiny. We control the Force."

His eyes seemed to glow as well, in this strange light, vivid and blue.

"Keep going."