garbageship | That's no moon... Wait, no, it's a moon.

There's no danger in this situation, he knows that. Rationally. It's no different than Luke practicing against the remote, nothing but training. Han's shots won't hit, anyway.

He glances back at Rey.

"Just watch." As he hopes, it sounds encouraging. Not strained at all. Everything's fine here, this isn't weird. He won't remind her that her turn is coming up next.

But if he's going to go to the trouble he might as well do this right, so the shot he lines up is a solid one: a quick draw, straight for the heart.

No one is comfortable in this situation (although Ben is unarguably the most comfortable). Isn't it beautiful?

Just one shot? He deflects it easily and looks at Han, thinks about telling him that there's no need to hold back, especially since the blaster's only on stun. His father must know that, though. The hesitation has nothing to do with logic and everything to do with emotion. It's understandable.

He glances over at Rey to see how deeply unpleasant this is for her. She did try very hard to shoot him.

Tried very hard — and failed miserably. Yeah this whole scenario is stirring up deeply unpleasant memories for Rey. She clenches her jaw and tries to focus on her breathing to calm her racing heart. It's stupid; there's no serious danger here; this is all part of the training. She flexes her fingers, trying to get rid of the weird tingly sensation. It's fine. Everything is fine.

(How are either of them okay with this?)

Simple answer: Han is less okay with this than he thought he'd be. It would be easier to stand and take a shot, except he can't do that with a lightsaber. It would be easier to shoot at Luke, because there's no history of animosity there. But they're trying to do something worth doing, here. (And it's not like there's a chance of it hitting. Even without the lightsaber, he'd just stop the shots in midair. It's okay.)

"This was one of the first things Luke learned," he says softly, not looking at her. Appealing to her quiet fascination with the stories.

He nods at Ben, gives him a moment to ready himself, and fires a few more shots in quick succession-- all a little wide, though. Nothing more than a glancing blow off his knee if they hit. There's only so much he can bear.

If this was a fight and not practice, dodging would be more sensible than defending. Since this is a demonstration, however, he blocks with a couple lazy-looking arcs of the saber blade. The bolts dissipate in a shower of sparks.

"I thought that he was blindfolded when he learned this lesson." Or Master Skywalker was talking himself up.

Rey and Han are both radiating unease. Fear? Fear of him on one count, fear for him on the other. Both unfounded.

Rey flinches at the sparks. "You were there for his training?" she asks Han, latching onto his offered distraction. She needs something to focus on other than the casual way Kylo Ren handles his lightsaber, as though he could kill all of them at any time he chooses.

You've stopped him before, she reminds herself. Twice. But now that he knows what she's capable of, would she be able to stop him a third time?

Oddly enough he's getting to be a little less spooked by the whole business. It has nothing to do with the blaster or with Ben's successive blocks (which is exactly what he expected) and everything to do with thinking of Luke's first forays into his training. Han hadn't believed a word of it then, and in spite of the Empire's iron fist, things seemed so much simpler.

"For that? He learned on my ship, blocking shots from a remote."

The little training droid would be handy right now, but he didn't think to find one.

"He wasn't blindfolded," he adds, then smiles wryly. "It was the blast shield on a helmet."

"I thought that he was exaggerating."

Yes, he probably handles his lightsaber too carelessly and casually. Yes, it's poorly-built. Yes, this is all a very good way to encourage the loss of hands, which is obviously something that no one with Skywalker blood should do. He isn't trying to intimidate Rey, though; he's just that comfortable with the weapon in hand.

Hey, tell Rey about it and she could probably build one. In fact, she would love to go back to the ship and start building one right now rather than hang around and keep watching Kylo Ren play with his murder toy.

"And that was to learn what we were working on earlier?" she asks, keeping her attention focused on Han. "To sense his surroundings without seeing them?"

"Right. I think," he says, though he does sound fairly certain in spite of it. It's a good sign when he has a joke at the ready.

"You ready to try?" He looks back at Ben, finally relaxed enough to crack a smile. "Unless you want to show off blindfolded."

"I could." He absolutely would, although he doubts Han is up for shooting at him while he can't see. That was probably a joke, anyway.

He deactivates his lightsaber. It can be Rey's turn now; she is, after all, the one this lesson is supposed to be benefiting.

"What, to have you fire on me?" She knows her answer ought to be 'yes', but ... Her eyes slide over to Kylo Ren. She's not comfortable doing this with him around. Not that she's ever comfortable with him around, or even that she would be comfortable being fired at if it was just her and Han. Really there's no way for this situation not to be massively unpleasant.

She gulps, and reaches into her pouch for Luke's lightsaber. "Fine." The thick leather gloves certainly don't help her dexterity as she fumbles to pull it out ... and then tries to figure out how to turn it on. Oh, right, that button...

This isn't going to go well.

Han might manage it. It wouldn't be a very good shot, but he could do it, only to give his son the chance to show off. (There's something twisted if that's his idea of fatherly pride, but hell, look at their family.)

"If you miss, it'll sting. That's all." That's quiet enough to be for her only, same as the serious look on his face. He wouldn't risk worse for either of them, even if he's absolutely sure they're both capable of deflecting the bolts. Ben would be able to give better advice here, but he's definitely not the one she wants to listen to.

"Remember when you were shooting. Don't watch me, this time. You can do this."

He backs up a few places, waiting for her to show him she's really ready.

It must be nerves. There's no other reason for Rey to fumble like that. He knows she can do better.

Their private exchange is annoying, but he is only here for demonstration purposes. No teaching allowed. How long he'll be able to reign himself in may depend on Rey's performance.

Rey holds the lightsaber in her hands the way she saw Kylo, though it feels awkward and wrong. No, not wrong ... just different from her staff. She turns the lightsaber on and feels her body hum in response — even as her semi-conscious mind tries to shove it away. She's a jumble of warring impulses. (But at least it's not giving her visions?)

So even though she nods at Han, letting him know she's ready ... she's not. And it shows when she fails miserably to fend off his shots.

She's not ready. Obviously not. If he's honest-- and he's not gonna say anything either way-- she looks less at-ease than Luke did all those years ago, and that's saying something. He doesn't try more than a couple of shots, carefully off-aim so all but one miss and the last one just grazes her hip, which is a matter of him not anticipating her movements.

It's hard not to be a bit disappointed, really. He lets the blaster fall to his side with a slight frown of consternation.

"Do you need the gloves?"

Han's not the only one disappointed. For all her desire to reject her force-abilities, a part of her has enjoyed being a prodigy, doing things which should have been impossible. This revelation that she's not perfect at everything force-related galls her ... though not nearly as much as Han's obvious disappointment (she may be projecting her own feelings onto him, just a bit).

Her hands clench reflexively when he asks about her gloves. "Yes, I do." A few weeks ago, she would have left it at that — Rey's never been one for much information-sharing — but because she has been learning to be just a little more social, and because it's Han, she elaborates. "The last time I touched this with my bare hands was back at Maz's place. I ... saw things." She can't stop herself from glancing over at Kylo Ren, the dark monster from her visions and the only person on the ship who knows about them.

"It's not gonna bite," he says, as reassuring as he can. Not that he disbelieves her. Frankly the way she looks over at Ben makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, and for the hundredth time he's biting back the questions that always hang in the air around her. Looking to his son for confirmation isn't going to help matters now, though. He comes a little closer instead, and holds out his hand to take the weapon if she'll switch it off and hand it to him.

"They're in your way. If you see anything-- if--" and he doesn't think she will, this time-- "it can't hurt you."

The mention of her visions and that look leave him frowning, unsettled by the reminder, more unsettled by other Rey-related lines of thought that he has been following.

As much as he wants to correct everything about the way she's approaching this (removing those gloves included) because he knows she can do better, he stays put. Han is the only person here that she's going to listen to, especially now. She's afraid of the lightsaber. He's not going to do anything to lessen that fear.

She's tempted to snap back How would you know? Except he does know far more about the force than she does. She reminds herself that while she felt the rain pelting down on her, the dirt beneath her hands, it had all been an illusion.

She stops just short of handing Han the lightsaber. "What if you're wrong about it choosing me?" she asks Han, though she's referencing the conversation she had with Kylo. "What if it showed me those things because it thinks I'm a thief? Some weird Jedi security feature or something? It belongs to Luke."

She knows that she's grasping at straws.

"That's not how it works."

He sounds entirely confident about that. And he is, if only because he thinks she's got as much right to it as anyone, and more than most. But if she's willing to take his word on the Force-- kind of a ridiculous premise, but here they are-- he'll be worth being trusted. Han leaves his hand outstretched.

"Those gloves aren't doing anything but getting in your way."

Another moment of hesitation, then she shoves the lightsaber into his hand and rips off the gloves as though they'd escape if she didn't move quickly. She flexes her hands and takes a few steadying breaths. She can't help stealing another glance at Kylo Ren, wondering what his reaction to this is and whether this situation is bringing out any of his dark side instincts.

If he does turn back to the Dark Side, she'll need more than her staff or a blaster to fight him. She closes her eyes and reaches out to grip the lightsaber, prepared to be assaulted with more visions.

Nothing. Just that same bone-deep hum she had felt even through the thick gloves. She looks up at Han, still feeling very vulnerable.

"...now what?"

That his father thinks he knows about the relationship between lightsaber and wielder is laughable (he doesn't laugh). Han's unspoken agreement that yes, it does belong to her now, makes him want to storm off (he doesn't storm off). All in all, he thinks that he's behaving well.

Why the girl keeps looking at him is beyond him. The presence of a lightsaber isn't going to send him off on a killing spree. It isn't going to move him to attack her. If he does anything, it'll be correcting her grip, and he isn't going to do even that when his father is still making slow progress with her.

He watches. Although he's trying to look entirely impassive, annoyance and frustration flicker across his face.

He misses his mask.

A healthy dose of pragmatic skepticism is deeply needful when you're surrounded by people surrounded by the Force. Like many of the things Han says, this is neither a lie nor the whole truth. It's more complicated than a mere weapon, less sacrosanct that whatever Ben might believe. Han has held Anakin's saber and others, has used them in the graceless way of the ungifted, and no harm came of it.

It's more and less than what it is.

"This time it's feeling, not seeing. Don't watch me, it'll come too late. Bring the blade to meet it."

Don't look at Ben, either. He's not looking at Ben.

It's hard not to look at his son, especially considering the feelings that flash across his face which, while subtle, are almost painfully evident to someone hypersensitive to potential threats.

"All right." She cautiously brings the lightsaber up and tries again. There's definitely some improvement in how she wields it ... but not much. Instead of being hampered by her fear of the lightsaber, her attention is split between sensing Han's blaster shots and monitoring Kylo Ren. She knows how poorly he handles frustration and annoyance; she's seen the damage his temper can do and she does not want to be taken by surprise. (Admittedly, her form is also terrible. She's used to wielding a staff, not a sword.)

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i apologize for the utter fail in this tag

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