But the truth was that Luke wasn't the same - and now, sat before him, Han couldn't believe he'd been stubborn enough to try to convince himself otherwise. He could see it in the kids eyes, could feel it in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, like hearing a noise in the dark; like feeling a storm front close in.
He looked again at the deep, jagged scar which marked the kid's cheek, from above his dark-cast eye clean down through his lips; noticed another on his neck half-hidden by the high collar of that impeccably-cut shirt.
The kid had changed - had to change to survive - Han had seen plenty like that in his profession; it was nothing new. People who'd had it bad and did what they had to just to survive but somehow, somewhere along the way, gradually and without even realising it, they lost some vital part of themselves. You could always tell them because they had that same neutral, dispassionate look in their eye as Luke had right now. As if nothing touched them anymore- nothing even came close.
But he hadn't known any that made those hairs on the back of his neck prickle before.
"I'd like to thank you for that whole Bothawuii thing." Han said at last, "With the Falcon and all- they thought I was a spy for a while."
"Yes, they're quick to point the finger." Luke said then, as if correcting himself, "The Bothawuii thing?"
"I'd been trying to get Mon to move the venue of the meet fro weeks, then not only do you show up, but I get the Falcon back."
"Ah." Luke smiled tightly, "I could contact them if you like- put a good word in for you."
"Would'ja?" Han deadpanned, " 'Cos I'm sure that would work."
They both smiled then looked down uneasily. Luke waited the subsequent silence out, knowing what the next question would be. It took Han along time to say it, but he found the courage in the end, as Luke knew he would.
"What... happened to Mon?"
Luke met Han's eyes, determined not to be forced to feel guilty- more by himself than Han. "You know what happened- she was executed. She led a rebellion against the Empire. The penalty for insurrection is well publicized."
Han looked back down to his glass uneasily. Finally he murmured without looking up, struggling to find the words. "It's just... you knew her so well."
"Yes, I did- which was why it came as something of a surprise when she ordered my assassination." There was an edge to his voice now, the idealistic kid Han had known completely gone. "What was I supposed to do- let her keep on taking pot-shots at me until she suceeded? "
Han said nothing, and Luke relented slightly, his voice quieting.
"They didn't... she wasn't interrogated. I think Palpatine knew how..." He stopped; he'd been about to admit just how uneasy he'd been at Mothma's execution; that Palpatine clearly hadn't felt that interrogating her - and having Luke know it - wasn't worth the alienation it would cause between himself and his precious Jedi. But he held to silence, refusing to be made to feel he should defend his actions against someone who had tried very hard to kill him.
"I dunno." Han murmured at last, "I just... don't know sometimes. It's all so..."
"Muddy." Luke finished knowingly into the protracted silence. "It was so much easier when it was black and white, wasn't it? They always say 'know your enemy', but that's as much a hindrance as a help."
Again the uneasy silence stretched, but it was less fraught now, neither man wishing the other any enmity. Eventually Han looked up. "What are you gonna do?"
"I'm going to rule an Empire." Luke said simply, no trace of doubt in his steady voice. "What are you going to do?"
"I dunno. Try to stop you I suppose."
"You don't sound very sure."
Han looked up at the young man before him, confident and composed before someone who had just declared their intentions to stop him, despite the fact that Han wore a sidearm and Luke, clearly, had nothing at all. But then that hadn't exactly been a flyaway success. He studied his old friend for long moments, but Luke held his eye, composed and unruffled- and completely without chagrin.
"I once had a guy tell me- when I told him I was a smuggler, a mercenary - he said... 'You should be careful; the thing that you seek to claim has a way of reaching back and claiming you.' "
"Really?" the barest of ironic smiles touch the corners of Luke's scarred lips. "I once heard him say, 'Who's the more foolish; the fool or the fool who follows him.' "
Han smiled lopsidedly at having been caught out, then the smile fell away. "Do you..."
"Forgive him? For lying to me... repeatedly? No, I don't think I do. But then I'm sure he wouldn't forgive me for... my decisions since."
"Do you... hold him responsible for all this?"
The kid's face remained absolutely neutral, whatever was going on behind that mask completely hidden. "As I said; they were my decisions."
Han pursed his lips, glanced away; seemed almost embarrassed to ask. But when he did Luke wasn't surprised- save that he hadn't asked the question sooner.
"Are you... Sith?"
"Would it change your view of me?"
When Han didn't answer, Luke frowned slightly, wrinkling the scar by his eye, "You once told me you didn't believe in the Jedi - one must assume by extension that you shouldn't believe Sith exist either."
"Things change. We all make mistakes."
"Yes... we do."
Han frowned at the distant tone in the kid's voice, but Luke realised immediately and whatever regrets were playing across his mind in that moment were instantly quashed. "Do you even know what a Sith is?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
"Should I take that as a 'no'?"
"If I said yeah, would you answer the question?" Han said, aware now that the kid was neatly avoiding anything he didn't want to answer.
"Probably not," Luke replied easily, amused that his bluff was being called, again surprised it hadn't come earlier. "Other than to say that a Sith would have no compunction about using a 'friend' to his own advantage."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Han realised even as he said it what the kid was getting at- it was Han, not Luke, who was asking all the questions here. Luke hadn't asked one, not about the Alliance, what Han was really supposed to be doing here, nothing. His friendship with Han lay outside of all other considerations.
Han frowned again, glancing at his drink, "Is this Corellian?" It was hardly a subtle change of direction, but then subtlety wasn't really Solo's style.
"Of course." Luke said. "I'd never dare serve you anything else."
"It's good- good vintage. I... um..." A long silence followed before Han looked up, shaking his head, "I don't... I have no idea what to say."
Luke held his gaze, face unreadable, that slight smile still etched on his features without ever reaching his eyes. "Ask what you want to ask."
Han paused a few seconds more... "What the hell happened?"
Luke didn't change that cool, composed expression, the brittle silence stretching out; but his mismatched eyes became distant, lost in memories Han couldn't begin to comprehend.
"I thought he'd kill me... I thought if I made enough noise and mess getting you out, he'd just kill me and that would be it... Then I woke up in a cell, and I thought, I can still do this- if I say no enough times; if I made it difficult enough, he'll kill me. But he never would, quite..."
He blinked as if breaking a spell and turned to Han, neither accusation nor abandonment in his gaze, but Han felt the guilt burn through him all the same, the memories of the dozens of times he'd wanted to go after the kid and let himself be talked out of it still smarting. Luke continued, face emotionless though his voice almost cracked, his accent recognizable now.
"I kept telling myself, 'One more day. Just make it through one more day.' And then another... and then another. And no-one ever came." He shrugged, oddly resigned, "But then I never really thought they would... I was where I was supposed to be - what I wanted was immaterial."