Brian Star Wars - Tuesday, January 27, 1998, 7:05 PM ---------------------------------------------------- Cockpit The cockpit of the _Falcon_ is reasonably spacious as freighter cockpits go, able to seat four with ease, and some space left over between the two rear seats and the aft hatch. Countless control panels, including the hyperdrive, steering, and power systems, a link to the navcomputer in the forward hold, and access to the weapons systems, cast assorted winks, blinks, and tiny, steady glows across this room; before the pilot's chair on the port side is a computer screen, for navigational data and other information brought up off the ship's computers. Looking towards the fore casts one's view out through the cockpit's dome window, wide and sectioned off by sturdy metal arc and line segments bracing the thick glass. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Chewbacca => Threepio => NavComp -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ft leads to Main Ring Corridor (Starboard). Sinjon_Teague watches with a bit of awe as Chewbacca begins flipping switches and making his pre-flight checks. He watches as Chewie masterfully maneuvers the Falcon out of KOS turning towards a point in space. Sinjon stares out the window taking in all the stars as well as the ship traffic flying back and forth. He sits back as the ship jumps into Hyperspace. Chewbacca's handling of the ship is both elegant and comical. The humor has nothing to do with the size of his furry figure manuevering the ship from a seat clearly designed for his frame, but with the fact that casual flips of switches and controls are punctuated occasionally by a furred fist slammed down on a whining panel, and a kick is delivered to a sweet spot in the undercarriage, causing the dimming lights on that panel to brighten up as if coming to attention. Glancing over at Sinjon, Chewie rowls a pleasant greeting as the ship moves smoothly into hyperspace. A few more readouts are checked, and then the Wookiee leans back in his chair, shifting his paws to the back of his head. Sinjon_Teague smiles at Chewbacca's casual handling of the ship. As soon as the large Wookie is finished with his gyrations, growls and thumpings Sinjon watches as the ship takes off into hyperspace. "That was very masterful! I have only flown a few times and never have I been in the cockpit!" Chewbacca gurfles in amusement and pats the seat next to him ... Han's seat, in invitation to the Horansi. Turning back to the shooting star field, Chewbacca bobs his maned head and says, "Yeah ... I'll never get tired of this. I like fixing things best, but flying is a close second ..."", in Wookiee. Sinjon_Teague takes the proferred seat, settling into it. "Thank you. So tell me a bit about our grumpy companion" He jerks his thumb aftward. "I have heard that Mr. Solo can be a bit, ah, difficult but this sometimes takes the cheese." Sinjon rolls his eyes a bit, "I thought I was going to have to conk him on the head and tie him to the bunk before he would let me take care of his blaster wound!" Chewbacca urfurfs in amusement and shakes a paw at Sinjon. Blue eyes sparkle merrily at the thought that -this- could be considered Solo at his worst. The Wookiee shakes his head disparagingly and says, "This is practically sweetness and light ... you should see what he's like when he's moping about his wife or in a -really- bad mood.", in Wookiee. Sinjon_Teague's eyes widen at Chewbacca's insistance that Han has been much worse than he is now. "Well I hope that I am not around to face him then. I just might have to conk him on the head with my lightsaber!" His expression softens as he continues, "I empathize his missing his wife. If I had a mate of some sort I wouldn't want to spend time away from her." Sinjon again looks out the windows and sighs slightly. Shrugging slightly, Chewbacca growlfs, never truly understanding the need for humans to have sex all the time. It's just one of those strange biological mysteries that the Wookiee figures he's better off not knowing about. "I guess so," he rumbles. "I gotta wife ... I haven't seen her in, oh, a couple of weeks, but before that it was about eight years." He raises his head as the ship drops out of hyperspace, paws moving about the controls to get the new coordinates. "Course when we were just dating, it was about, oh, fifty years from when I first starting rubbing noses with her to when I finally proposed ..." The comment is made in an off-hand way, as if it was a drop in the bucket time wise. A smile of rememberance curls the Wookiee's muzzle. Sinjon_Teague breaks out of his reverie as soon as Chewbacca begins to speak. He cocks his head to one side at the mention of his wife, a slight smile crossing his features. "Things are definatly different with humans, and I would have to agree with you. I think you think differently because Wookiees live a lot longer than humans. Human beings tend to cram as much as they can within their short lives." Sinjon shrugs his broad shoulders, "I can understand missing someone because of their company. I mean, Mr. Solo should be thankful that he has you along to help him out when the need shows itself. Ah well, Humans..." "Of course he has me," Chewie grfles, "I'm his partner. Where he goes I go ..." he notes, muzzle shifting to one side as he glances back through the entrance way, blue eyes dimming slightly as he whurfs, "Well, at least most of the time." Sinjon_Teague peers at Chewie's last comment, "It would seem he chafes at all this...mothering but at the same time enjoys it. It is most curious.." "I think "enjoy" is too strong a word," Chewie notes idly, checking the scanners as he rowfles. "Han finds it, well, maybe comforting or reassuring on a certain level. Humans, indeed all living beings need to belong and be wanted, no matter how much they deny that need. Han is no exception despite his occasional wishes to the contrary." Chewie's brow frowns slightly as the ship's computer squeals, informing him that they are being scanned. He runs his paws over the controls in reponse. The Wookiee's muzzle curls again as the ship scanning them turns out to be the Deliverance. "Hold on a second, I'm just going to check in, see if there is any news," he whurfs thoughtfully. There is suddenly a pause as Chewie stares down at the comm system, stifling an urf of humor. "Ah ... never mind .... last thing they probably want to deal with is finding a translator." Chewie glances up at Sinjon, smirking at the image of his barks and yowls coming over the Deliverance's comm-system. Sinjon_Teague raises an eyebrow, "I would agree that all beings have the desire to belong. I think Mr. Solo would be a very good actor if he decided to persue that profession. I can see him in quite a few roles, especially the tragedies! Ahhhh I bet he would make a good one.." "An actor?" Chewie snorts thoughtfully, musing, _Kid's smarter than he looks ... conning is as close to acting as you can get_ "Yeah," he schnorfles in amusement, "he's a pretty good actor ... but I can't picture him on a stage, that's for sure. Probably just as well ... his head's big enough as it is," the Wookiee snipes playfully, casting a suspicious gaze backward again. "Hey ... speaking of being a consumate actor ... you mind checking on him to make sure he wasn't con ... ah, acting like the good patient?" Sinjon_Teague smiles toothily at Chewbacca while standing up from the seat. He gives a small mock bow to the Wookie, "It would be my pleasure..." He walks aftward to check on the wounded Corellian. Rwollling his gratitude, Chewie gives the Hornansi a friendly wave as he checks the instruments again. You head aft and around a bend into the main corridor. Main Ring Corridor (Starboard)(#678RntJ) A circular passageway that runs the circumference of the ship, this corridor provides access to all the major areas of the _Millenium Falcon_. The walls are lined with dirty, off-white, upholstered padding interspersed with bulkheads and the occasional control panel; the illumination is faintly greenish. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ft leads to Bunk Room.

ort leads to Cargo Hold. ore leads to Cockpit. tarboard leads nowhere. Sinjon_Teague enters Main Ring Corridor (Starboard) You head aft around the ring into the bunk room. Bunk Room A cramped little nook sandwiched in among the engine room, maintenance areas, and other sections of the aft half of the _Falcon_, this room sports enough bunks to accommodate a small number of passengers. Along the back wall are a bank of tiny lockers to stow personal gear, a catering facility, and a door leading off into a refresher. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Han_Solo -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ore leads to Main Ring Corridor (Starboard). Sinjon_Teague walks into the bunk room bearing a slight grin on his features. Bored. Bored bored bored. Bored bored bored bored. Han Solo is intimately familiar with just about every detail of the _Millenium Falcon_, and love his ship though he might, there's only so long he can stare at the ceiling above his bunk without wanting to throw something. Or kick something. Or punt something out the airlock. His hazel gaze immediately snaps to Sinjon as the Horansi appears at the doorway, and he greets him with a gruff, "We there yet?" Sinjon_Teague shakes his head in negation, "I don't know where we are. I am not a pilot by any stretch of the imagination. I know that we came out near the Sluis Van system momentarily but we are back in hyperspace again." He pulls out a stool near Han's bunk and sits down, "So let me take a look at your wound and if it looks okay I will dismiss Chewbacca's desire that you rest. I know that inaction must chafe you considerably." Han frowns, scrubbing a hand across his eyes; he looks a trifle sleepworn, as if he has in fact dozed in transit, though he is alert now. "Closer than I thought, then," he mutters authoritatively. He pauses, then adds tersely, " Alright... alright..." And he starts sitting up. He's still clad only in his blue pants; he's shucked his boots in addition to the remnants of his white shirt. Sinjon_Teague prods gently at the wound with careful paws. He hurms and finally after a few moments speaks, "It looks fine as long as you do not over do it. I would suggest stepping into the refresher to clean the dried blood off of the rest of you. I will tell Chewbacca that you are doing better and I have given my okay for you to move about." He gives Han a genuwine smile. "Gee," mutters Han as he gets stiffly to his feet, "you're all heart, pal..." His voice remains on the raspy side, and a smirk crosses his face, perhaps meant to make him appear as if getting up is absolutely no hardship. Sinjon_Teague shrugs his shoulders, "I could just as easily tell Chewbacca that you should be bunk ridden for the rest of this journey and possibly be checked out by the medical officers on Calamari..." His eyes twinkle with mirth as he talks to Solo. The Corellian ducks into the closet-sized refresher, but doesn't close it behind him; there's the noise of running water, and Solo splashes some on his stubbled face. At the Horansi's comment, he sticks his head out long enough to declare smirkingly, "The medical officers on Calamari and I have an understanding -- they don't bother me, I don't bother them." Sinjon_Teague snorts at Solo's comment. "You forget," he waggles his fingers and makes some noise, "I am sure I could convince them!" He pauses a moment before throwing up his paws in defeat, "Ahhh you know that I would not do something like that." He sits back down with a perturbed look on his face. "Why do you make it so hard on other people who are trying to be nice to you?" The water keeps running, but Solo himself is silent a few beats. He doesn't look out from the refresher this time, though he can still be heard as he barks out gruffly, "Sorry." That's all he says, though his tone relays 'I'm _cranky_, okay? Deal with it!' Sinjon_Teague speaks over the sounds of running water, "So tell me why you are so cranky. Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger. Well, at least a partial stranger." Within the little refresher, the water shuts off; Solo then limps out into view, still scruffy-looking, if somewhat cleaner now. He deliberately meets the Horansi's gaze, plastering on a lopsided grin and saying breezily, "Hey, pal... not your problem, huh?" But he immediately moves back to the bunk, settling himself upon it with alacrity at odds with his earlier attitude about being on that bunk in the first place. Sinjon_Teague ah's and shakes his head slowly, "You are correct it is not my problem but I do wish to help you out by listening with a friendly ear. I am sure you feel that your problems are your own and no one else's business. Holding in what you feel only leads to disaster down the line. Do not worry I am sure you will be seeing your wife soon." Sinjon goes into the catering area and begins to rummage through the various cabinets looking at what kind of stores are at his disposal. He begins to hum an old Corellian tune as he fills a large pot with water and sets it to boil. Solo, lying there on the bunk, is noticeably silent. Sinjon_Teague pulls out a chopping board from one of the cabinets and set it on the counter area. He begins to chop a variety of vegetables that he has pulled out with a small knife. Sinjon begins to sing in a fine bass voice the chorus to the song he was humming a few moments before. As quick as the veggies are chopped they are dropped into the steaming pot of water. Uncomfortable, distinctly uncomfortable, Solo rolls onto his unhurt side. Unfortunately, this points his face out into the room, and he has to set his features in a stoic grimace. _Why'd he have to go and mention Leia anyway..._ Finishing off the last of the vegetables Sinjon drops the last of them into the pot with a bit of a flourish. Giving the mixture a quick stir he begins to flavour the mixture with a variety of spices that he has found. Snapping his fingers he heads back into the bunk area. He walks towards his satchel set on the other bunk, opens it and begins to rumage around. The smell of distants worlds begins to waft forth from the beaten leather bag. Sinjon finally turns back towards the catering unit when he finally notices Solo's expression. He stops, blinking his large eyes and cocking his head sideways at the Corellians stoic expression. "She misses you as well you know..." Han's mouth tightens up into a small expression that might, on a younger and less weathered face, be called a pout. Annoyed at this attempt at comfort from an individual who surely has less chance of having spoken with the Princess lately than _he_ has, he turns his darkened hazel gaze up to the ceiling, and mutters, "Yeah, well, maybe." Sinjon_Teague breaks out into a chuckling laugh, "Oh you aren't sure? That is true she _is_ a very busy woman but she must love you deeply to put up with your petulant moods. I can only imagine what it will be like when you have younglings of your own. Will you show your children the hardened Corellian smuggler facade or will you be the doting father? I believe that you will be as enamoured with your offspring as you are for their mother." The ebon hued Horansi saunters back to the catering area with the satchel of herbs. He begins to crush, sprinkle and flavor the dish with a variety of agents all the while attempting to whistle, a bit off key, the same tune. Pricked by the Horansi's disturbingly close to the mark words, Solo grumbles, "Kids? What kids? Not frekkin' likely." He rolls onto his back, his scowl tightening further as the muscles in his wounded side pull at him. Sinjon_Teague chuckles deeply at the self deception that Solo has obviously perfected after years of use. "I would like to be around to mediate that conversation when it comes about. I would be willing to bet that you will lose that one no matter how much you try to sweet talk your mate." "Look--" And abruptly, Solo sits up, thrusting a finger out to point scoldingly at his and Chewie's passenger. "Maybe you ain't versed on human biology, pal, but to have _kids_ requires that we have _sex_!" Then, catching himself and looking mortified, the Corellian scowls even more deeply, and rolls over onto his other side, never mind that it hurts. It gets his face pointed at the wall, and that's what he wants. Sinjon_Teague stops in mid chuckle at Solo's tirade. At Han's outburst about sex, Sinjon blinks once, twice and finally a third time. His jaw opens and closes with the blinking. "I...I am not sure what to say to that. I know that Chewbacca implied that you had not seen your wife in a while but I did not know it was *that* long. Why is it that you have not...been... with your wife?" He pulls up the stool to sit next to the bunk as he speaks to Han. Solo's tense back and shoulders face the Horansi, less revealing than his face, though hardly hiding his general tension. "She's been busy," he barks. 'Nuff said. End of story. Sinjon_Teague sighs for a moment, "Have you spoken with her about this? I am sure she is able to spare some time for her husband." He reaches out a paw and taps the man on his shoulder, "Would you mind facing me when we are trying to converse? I prefer talking to your face rather than your back." Pause, pause, pause, while Solo ponders saying several rude things to this overly inquisitive felinoid. He says none of them, however, perhaps because he _is_ mostly a stranger, perhaps because he is not human and therefore, on some odd level, easier for the Corellian to relate to, and perhaps simply because somewhere behind his gruffness, he really doesn't want to be rude. But all the compromise he allows is to shift over onto his back, letting Sinjon see his profile while he glares determinedly up at the ceiling. "She ain't got the time," he mutters shortly. Sinjon_Teague stares at Solo for a moment before speaking, "So you are telling me that your wife and lifemate will not make time for you? I honestly do not believe that! I am sure that even though the Rebellion, state dinners, and all the work that goes along with everything take a goodly chunk of her time that she will make time for you. Why else would she have married you unless she wanted to spend time with you, have children with you, and grow old together? What makes me so sure of this I do not know. Call it a 'gut feeling' I think when you get the chance you should be your bold self, step forward and tell her of your feelings. I would bet you that she feels just as lonely and frustrated as you do, probably more so! At least you get to whip out your blaster and take pot shots at some Rodians when things get boring..." _Yeah,_ says a voice in the back of Solo's mind, _why -did- she marry you, anyway?_ It's a question the Corellian has been worrying over for a while now, and he doesn't like it any more now than he did when it first occurred to him. He smirks up at the ceiling, still avoiding Sinjon's gaze, and mutters, "She doesn't need me draggin' at her time. Between diplomatic stuff and Jedi stuff." Sinjon_Teague shakes his head making his earrings jingle, "Actually I would imagine she would welcome your attention and a chance to get away from her tedious, boring work. All work and no play, as it is said in the ancient texts, makes ones mind dull and unenlightened." He smiles warmly at Han, his eyes taking in the signals that the Corellian's features are sending out, "If she did not love you to such a great degree then she would not have married you and would have not bothered to get to know you. That is something to think about..." Sinjon stands up quickly, going over to the pot of stew and stiring it for a few moments. The smell has begun to fill the room with the odors of cooking vegetables and spices. Solo snorts. "She's been busy," he repeats. But his voice has gone lower and rougher. "Diplomat work. Jedi training, I suppose. Don't know." Sinjon_Teague sighs a bit exhasperated with Solo's repetions of the same phrase, "So basically you have not even tried to speak with her about this..." "A man gets a little tired of hearing 'Can we talk about this later?', ya know," Solo mutters, smirking, though the curl of his mouth doesn't match the distant look in his eyes. "Besides..." He trails off, then scowls, and finishes, "Ahhh--" Apparently, he is growing rather annoyed at himself, along with Sinjon. Sinjon_Teague growls deep within his chest, as if he is also picking up Han's annoyance. "Well then do something about it dammit! Do not take that excuse! I thought you were the kind of person who took control of situations, turned them around to suit his own needs?! Be forceful and take the initiative! What could be more important than your relationship and marriage?" Sinjon is breathing quite heavily right now, obviously aggitated with Han's lack of trying and _very_ tired of his whining but willingness to do nothing. Solo only scowls, his expression turning livid, and he deliberately turns his back on Sinjon again. Perhaps surprisingly, his reply isn't very loud; perhaps even more surprisingly, he doesn't growl back at the felinoid. Rather, his voice takes on a low, flat monotone, "Keepin' her away from the Dark Side." A runaway Bantha couldn't have stopped the conversation quicker. Sinjon's eyes narrow at the mention of the Dark path. He puts a friendly paw on Han's shoulder before speaking an equally low tone of voice, "My friend we all have to face the tempations from the Dark path. No one can say when or where it will happen. The true test is being able to stay on the path of Light even though sorely tempted. What if you are her guidance on the path of Light? Where would she be if you were not there to help her along. That is the strength of the Light side, our working together as a team. With each individual that joins our cause we grow stronger. Our power grows with each person we add. We strive to bring about the Light and hold the darkness at bay. We rely on each other for support as well as strength. Believe me, if you sit down and talk with her I am sure that everything will work out. If you would like, I will talk to her." His eyes mirror the concern for Solo's predicament. "I ain't a Jedi, pal." That seems to be enough for Solo -- and although his words are gruff even yet, there's a stiffness to the man's shoulder, and perhaps even a pang somewhere within his voice, that suggests more. He's not a Jedi. What the hells can he do? Sinjon_Teague shrugs his shoulders, "That does not matter everyone walks a path. You, your mate, Mr. Skywalker, Chewbacca, myself. It is up to everyone to find the path to enlightenment. We all make up the Force and have influence on what we give and take away. It should not matter if you are a Jedi or not. You are a good man who cares about those around him. That is more than I can say of some that I have met. There is nothing that says a non Jedi can not love a Jedi." Solo is quiet for a long moment before he says huskily, "Yeah, well... how about distractin' her from her training? Ahhh..." He trails off again, perturbed. _Spilling my guts to him, and I'm not even drunk...?_ Sinjon_Teague chuckles for a moment before becoming serious, "To become a Jedi can take a long time. It isn't something that is done over night. I am sure that Mr. Skywalker would understand you wanting some time alone with your wife. Again I can talk with him if you would like.." "Do what you gotta do, pal," Han answers, voice rough and low. He doesn't look over his shoulder, all the better to keep how his eyes have closed from Sinjon, and the wince that crosses his face as well. "I will, too. Right now, well... I gotta rest, okay?" That comes out of him a little fast. Solo, asking to _rest_? Sinjon_Teague stops his fussing over the stew momentarily before continuing with his spice festivities. He takes a taste of it, making some lip smacking noises and a generally contented sound. Sinjon dips the spoon in and brings over some of the brown spiced liquid for Solo to sample, "Try this. Does it need anything?" Change of tactics? Han is still for a moment, before he risks a glance over his shoulder. _Well, if it'll get him to leave me the hells alone..._ He rolls over once more, accepts a taste of the stuff, and has to fumble a moment to think of a spice that's actually used for food and not smuggling. "Enh, I dunno... rosemary. Whatever." Grinning at Solo's attempt at humoring him Sinjon bobs his head in affermation, "I already put some in but it may need a bit more and some peppers I think to give it a kick." He stands back up and heads towards the bubbling pot of stew. He begins to add a few more items all the while speaking to Han, "Rest? A few minutes ago you wanted to do anything but.. So by saying you need to rest you think that I will stop asking you about your problems and trying to give you advice? I think not, although I will give you a good rating for trying. Let me get everything straight in my mind. You are upset because your wife has been ignoring you. You feel you should not disturb her because of her Jedi training and her dealing with the path she follows. This in turn upsets you because you do not know much about Jedi or their training because you are not one yourself. So you in a way feel incompatible with your wife, on more than one level." Sinjon pops his head around the corner still holding a dripping wooden spoon and a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "I have this horrible nagging feeling that you feel you are not compatible with your mate on several levels actually. That and you feel you have to complete with her other duties. Am I fairly close in my assement?" _Dammit._ Solo, lying on his back on his bunk now, says crossly, "Did they give you the psychoanalyst's license with the lightsaber, or is that just a Horansi thing?" He doesn't actually answer the question, but then again, maybe that's answer enough. Sinjon_Teague smiles broadly with the unsaid confirmation, "Actually it is just deduction and a bit of insight into your problem. Mostly it is probably a Horansi thing since we are definatly different than humans. I can pick up subtle things from your scent, your pulse rate, your idiosynchrocies and habits. So I use a fair amount of deduction to help me in addition to my nature abilties." His ears twitch back and forth as he speaks. "My suggestion to you is that you should *TALK* to your wife about these things. Communication is key to making a relationship work especially *your* relationship. I also think that you and your mate should take some time together, just the two of you. At the minimum three days... a week if you can." The Horansi turns back to the stove and continues to stir the mixture. A warm pleasant smell has begun to fill the area, it's scent tickles at your nose and makes your stomach growl. "Yeah, well, if you can pry Her Highnessness away from the diplo corp, maybe we'll actually manage to have another week together this year," Solo mutters. The Corellian's voice is losing something of its roughness -- but whether because he is indeed reacting to the scent filling the dingy room or the Horansi's insights is tough to say. A clanking of dishes follows Solo's statement as Sinjon rumages for a lid to place on his creation. He finally finds a battered lid and clunks it down on top of the large pot. He plucks out some sort of bread from the stores and with a quick flourish of his knife has it sliced and buttered. "I plan on it actually. Unless you feel you would have a better chance than myself?" He turns entering the Bunk area again staring at Han as he speaks, "I do not like to see someone unhappy and feeling out of sorts. It does not become you and there is a fairly simple solution to it if you are persistant in not letting anyone dissuede you." The Corellian doesn't immediately answer, as he wrestles with a tangle of conflicting reactions -- deep embarrassment, more than a little wounded pride, and a sudden flash of fear that this admittedly well-meaning sentient may well spill a few more secrets than he's at all comfortable with Leia having. Or, for that matter, her brother. "Look," he blurts, "You don't have to put yourself out..." Dismisses Han's protests with a waving of his paws, "It is not a problem at all and I would be glad to do this for a friend. I am sure that someday you will return the favor. If you would rather I not I can accept that." Sinjon fixes Han with a very level gaze, his eyes an unusual grass green coloration that seems to be large green-ish pool that one could get lost within. His voice breaks the moment with its rumbling tone, "I do not mean to tell you your business but if you wish a resolution to this problem it will have to be with converstation, not liquor. You can run all you want but there has to be a time to stand on your own feet, be a responsible person and take control of your life." Stung, Han snaps, "I ain't been buryin' myself in no bottle, pal!" He starts scowling again. _Well, not -much-..._ "I ain't been fallin' down drunk since Chewie came back and for that matter," the Corellian adds testily, "it was his fault!" Sinjon_Teague shakes his head, "No.. you are missing my point. Your drinking is only part of it, a sign of your running away from the problem or smothering it. I could care less if you drink your self into oblivion normally. It was the drinking with the purpose of forgetting about your troubles that concerns me." He can't exactly brush that one off with a glib answer, and the knowledge makes Han's eyes darken again. After an uneasy pause, he shifts his gaze back towards the wall, though he doesn't actually turn toward it this time. "Didn't have much of a choice at the time, okay?" he mutters. Sinjon_Teague nods to the Corellian, "I understand that. I just wanted to point out that you can not fall into the trap of using alcohol as a crutch. That crutch can become a mynock on your back if you are not careful. I know what it is like to want to forget your troubles for a while. I have done the same myself not too long ago. I was lucky that I had someone watching out for me to point out what I was doing was not right. I was upset at this person for prying into my affairs at the time but now I am glad he stuck to his position and kept plugging away at me." He places a friendly paw on Solo's shoulder. Wary hazel eyes lift to the Horansi's figure standing over him, and although Han is frowning still, there might, just might, be a lessening of the annoyance in his gaze. He starts to speak, then glances away as he mutters, "Ain't had that in a while." _Great Googly moogly_ Sinjon thinks to himself _Am I finally getting through to him?_ He offers Han a smile, "I am sure you actually have had others look out for you but you are so used to them being there and having them prod at you, Chewbacca, Mr. Skywalker, your wife? I know that after a while a fresh person or perspective can help that is why I offered to lend an ear" He stands up and goes to check on the stew. Han mutters sheepishly, "I ain't... talked with any of 'em, for a while." Eyebrows raise to this statement from Solo. "So you have not spoken with anyone?" He shakes his head in amazement. "I can not believe that you have not spoken of this with any one of your friends." Sinjon's expression softens as the realization hits him, "I know that Corellians males are raised to be macho men who do not show their feelings or emotions. Do not be like your fellow Corellians, be better than that." Solo snorts, mutters something that might be, "Couldn't comment on most Corellian males," then adds more loudly, "Yeah, well... they've been... busy." _Hrm. That again! It seems he wants help but is afraid to ask for it.._ thinks Sinjon. He stands up, heading towards the kitchen. He fills a cup full of water for Solo, "I am sure your friends would have time for you Mr. Solo. They after all, *are* your friends and have a desire to help you out." Sinjon returns after taking a quick stir at the stew. A piece of bread in one paw and a mug of water in the other he hands them both to Solo. "I think you underestimate your worth to everyone. You are so used to taking care of things and everyone that when the times comes when Han Solo needs a helping hand you are reluctant to say anything. There is something to be said in being self reliant but everyone needs help now and then." He sits back down on his stool. And Han finally mutters, while dunking bread into stew, "I ain't exactly high on the list of NR priorities, pal. The Empire's still bent acquiring our heads." Odd tone there. Odd expression, too. Sinjon_Teague grins at Han's facade. He sighs for a moment before speaking, "It would not be a good thing that your friends thought that you could not confide in them. I think you need to change the manner in which you think of your friends and now your family. Remember these people have spent a good chunk of their lives with you. They helped you out when it counted before why should not be any different?" He stands up, heading towards the kitchen again returning a few moments later with a large bowl of stew and more bread. Setting the feast on the stool in front of Solo, Sinjon pulls out another chair and sits down again. "I am sure that the NR has a place for you. You have earned your position through your deeds. Nothing was handed to you that you have not earned." Maybe the nourishment is loosening his tongue along with replenishing his strength; maybe Han feels awkward being rude to someone trying to feed him; maybe, just in general, he's starting to feel safer with the conversation, even if his expression broadcasts continued uneasiness. "Yeah, I'm sure they'd be fallin' all over themselves if I took my commission back," he mutters sardonically. Sinjon_Teague snorts and gives a small chuckle, "All right.. maybe they would not do that but I am sure that you could serve in other capabilities. Have you ever thought about teaching others to fly?" A moment later Sinjon's stomach lets out a large growl. The Horansi blinks and smiles in a embarassed manner, "Sorry I have not eaten in a while. I think I will have some stew as well." He walks to the kitchen and helps himself to a portion of the frangrant creation. Solo looks up, gaping. "_Teach_?" he echoes, stunned. Walking back carrying a plate of bread, a small amount of cheese and some fruit balanced on top of a bowl of stew. He sits back down near Solo placing the food on the floor at first. Picking up Han's stew he places it in the Corellian's hands. "Yes, teaching. You have valuable expertise in many things but especially flying. You could also possibly teach Intel recruits on certain things as well." Sinjon pauses while he picks up the plate and places it on the stool between Han and himself. "I can tell by your expression that you had not ever thought of teaching before..." The entire notion must strike Solo as eminently bizarre, for he begins, of all things, to laugh. "Teaching. You gotta be pullin' my leg, pal." Taking a large spoonful of stew and blowing gently on it Sinjon eats it gingerly. He takes a couple of bites, pondering Solo's question. "Actually, no. I am quite serious. Do you not feel that you could pass along some of your experiences and knowledge?" He peers at Han while again taking another bit of stew.