Common sense would tell him to be wary of strangers in the desert. But Luke's nature was seldom wary, and on the contrary everything about this man was engendering a strange sort of instant trust in him. His presence was comfortable, familiar. And Luke wanted to trust him, not without question because nothing had dulled his curiosity, but without doubt. It made no sense, but he'd learned to trust his instincts--or at least, hadn't yet learned any lessons against doing so.

Still, he didn't elaborate on his mission to Taris--the search for Jedi relics required either too much explanation or too much defensiveness on his part for him to enter into it lightly. He nodded and slung an arm around the man's back to support himself. The feeling of comfort, of calm belonging, did not fade, though analyzing it through the haze of disorientation and pain seemed unimportant.

"I'm Luke," he said after a moment.