Hey, don't worry about it. [Honestly it could have been worse. Way worse. Dead and gone, wiped out with the last of his old life in one clean, grizzly second. All the things he never thought he'd be able to stare down on his own suddenly insignificant compared to the idea of losing Rey the way he'd already lost Han.

His knuckles, still draped over the side of his medical bed, give an encouraging little tap to the droid's cylindrical chassis.] I made it this far already. I'm not planning on giving up now.

[And then the idea comes to him:] --can you carry more than datachips in there?