A/N: Thanks to Lelila Solo for pointing out my misspelling of Wookiee!
A Careful Application of Pressure
Chapter Two: Riddles
The silence on the Millennium Falcon was so tense it cold hold up a Wookiee. There were no wookiees on the ship, however, a fact that only deepened Han's frown.
Chewbacca had declined Han's invitation, saying that Leia was right and he should spend more time with Luke. It was just like him, to side with the girl. Han shook his head in disgust. Eight feet tall, and the fuzz ball still got bowled over by a hundred pounds of long eyelashes.
So he sat alone in the cockpit, listening to the mechanical grinding of the Falcon around him. Luke had locked himself in the guest quarters with barely a word of thanks, and Han couldn't complain.
Whirr Buzz Humm. It wasn't the healthiest sounding noise, but it was easier on the ears than Luke's threatening wordlessness. Whirr Buzz Humm. Whirr Buzz Humm.
Squeak.
Han looked around. He was pretty sure that wasn't coming from the engine. Squeak. There it was again, a high-pitched, decidedly living call. He stood up and headed for the door. Before he could reach it, however, he discovered the source of the sound.
More accurately, he stepped on it.
The blue-and-green something shot out from under his foot, hissing and yelping, and landed on the control panel. Han stepped back. This was no ordinary stowaway rodent. It was small, covered in bright fur, and had a fluffy striped tail at least the length of its body. The long, narrow head was topped with two large ears. Blue-rimmed orange eyes regarded him from within a green mask.
"Hey there," Han said, in what he hoped was a clam tone. The creature hissed again, fur on end. It would be comical, if it didn't sound so angry. Han pulled his blaster. His finger was on the trigger when something invisible yanked it from his hands.
"Please don't do that, Han." Luke caught the blaster in a practiced motion. His two-droid entourage stood behind him, as always.
"You couldn't have just said something, could you?"
"No."
The animal bounded across the room to Luke's arms, where it seemed content to glare silently. "What is that thing?" Han asked.
"Our cargo," Luke said.
"It's a barqual," 3PO elaborated. "One of only a few dozen left, a member of the order-"
"If I'd wanted to know that," Han said, "I would have asked you. Why is it wandering loose on my ship?"
"Because there's no reason to keep it locked up," Luke said. It was the most emotion he'd shown to Han since the trip began.
"I can find one. How about those teeth?"
"It's perfectly harmless."
"And what if it hurts itself somehow? I don't want to find it three months from now in the cooling system."
"It won't get into any trouble. It's too smart for that." Luke paused and chuckled sadly.
"What?"
"Usually, when we have this argument, we're both on the other side." Before Han could demand an explanation, he walked away.
"I don't suppose you know what he meant," he said to 3PO.
"I'm sorry, General Solo, but I'm not programmed to interpret metaphors and other figures of-"
"Then don't talk."
"Really, R2," the droid said huffily. "The things we have to put up with…" He left the cockpit, grumbling in indignation.
Han sat down again, wondering where the Jedi learned to speak in riddles.