Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo (5 page)

Seemed the droids belonged to her. How she ended up on the Death Star was a whole other story. You can tell I entered late into this little conspiracy. I was fighting a whole war before I even knew what the blazes was going on.

Just the mention of the princess got Luke all worked up. He demanded I go marching off to the detention block with him to rescue the lady. But I wasn’t keen on that suicide mission—until he mentioned she was rich, way rich.

You’d think I’d learn eventually that chasing after promises of vast amounts of wealth leads you nowhere. Especially when it comes from a gawky kid wanting to rescue a beautiful princess… Does this sound like a fairy tale or what? Ha-ha. But I bought it, all right. I probably would have kissed a womp rat at that point if I thought it would have turned into a wealthy princess. Life is strange, I gotta tell you.

But what choice did I have? I don’t mean to add what probably sounds like a petty concern to the tragedy of Alderaan, but my 15,000 credits were on the planet, too, you know. So off I went to save a damsel in distress. Or so I thought.

Now don’t start thinking a sweet, soft, little bundle of female delight. And don’t start thinking she’s going to be thrilled to see us—her brave, handsome heroes. Boy, would you have
that
one wrong.

Sai’da:
Is there something wrong, Mr. Solo?

Han:
Of course there’s something wrong, Sai’da. Leia is in the clutches of Jabba because she tried to rescue me. And I’m sitting here telling you stories while she’s up there with that evil, disgusting—if he harms her in any way…

Chewbacca:
Nrawwnk!!

Han:
Okay, Chewie, okay. I’ll sit down. I don’t know where I thought I was going anyway. We both need to calm down, buddy.

I think maybe the historian here, once he gets the full scoop on our adventures, is going to be even more sympathetic to our predicament. Right, Sai’da?

Sai’da:
I’m not sure what more I can say. I feel I have offered you all the assistance that I’m capable of at this time. We need to “play it by ear” I believe the expression is. Don’t you think?

Han:
Maybe. I guess it’s our only choice for now. But just wait until I’m thinking more like Han Solo
before
carbonite. Then you’re going to hear some ideas!

Sai’da:
I believe you. And so, back to the Death Star and the recently discovered princess?

Han:
Right.

So, now that the kid had me hooked on a rescue attempt, how do we get to the detention block? Believe it or not, Luke finally had a good idea—everybody has at least one, I figure. The plan was to make a fake prisoner out of Chewie. Chewbacca was a little grumpy about the restraints, but finally we were ready.

Off we went, leaving the droids to man our new command post, running on guts and a certain biped sophistication, if I do say so myself. Sometimes I gotta laugh just thinking of the stunts I pull to stay alive.

At the time it wasn’t that funny. Talk about one uneasy trip through the innards of the Death Star. Even hidden inside those weird clown disguises we felt visible, like people could tell we didn’t belong there. When you’ve been living the rough life, just the sight of all that shiny equipment and those sparkling metal corridors makes you nervous. Somebody forgot to tell me evil is clean.

Anyway, we finally arrived at the main detention center and reported in. Things started off all official-like and we thought we were pulling this thing off. Of course, all this gave way in a moment to general havoc when we sensed they weren’t buying our little routine.

We were blasting guards and camera eyes and gate controls like we knew what we were doing. And in the chaos that followed we somehow managed to locate the princess.

Luke hightailed it to her cell while Chewie and I tried to hold off some very unhappy Imperial troops. No, we didn’t succeed. Like that’s news.

Next thing you know Chewie and I were flying down the detention tunnel to warn the kid that the game was up. It was looking like we were cornered right near the royal one’s cell.

Han:
Now here’s a touching moment, my meeting the princess. You know what her first words to me were? Do you? I’m talking gratitude, here. She glared at me and said, “Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route.” Like we had time to plan this little escapade for months! Then after she insulted our planning a little more, she blasted a grate in the wall next to me, almost frying me. No “I’m sorry,” just a cute little “Somebody has to save our skins. Into the garbage chute, flyboy.”

A piece of work, that one. Of course, now I admire her for taking charge like that. But at the time that attitude of hers was pretty hard to swallow. I mean, we’d just given her the only hope she had of keeping that royal skin of hers.

In all honesty, the garbage chute was probably our only escape route. Not that this fact impressed the furry one here. Oh, no, he took offense to the stench coming from the garbage. Fine time to find out something new about Chewbacca—he’d rather have blasters coming at him than offend his highly developed sense of smell.

Chewbacca:
Warowwwrrk!

Han:
Don’t yell at me, pal, I’m just relating the facts. You gotta admit it’s pretty funny. Though at the time I was ready to pluck your sensitive pelt, hair by hair.

If at all possible, Sai’da, avoid Imperial garbage. Besides the lovely perfume and the slimy water, there was some creature that kept trying to pull Luke to the depths of that pit for keeps. I was thinking, we risk all this and the kid is going to end up a tasty treat for some slime-sucking leech? We were all in a panic when the kid finally surfaced for good. Maybe he wasn’t so tasty. I don’t know.

We didn’t have much time to consider Luke’s good fortune, though. Next thing we knew the walls started closing in on us. The compressor had been activated.

That’s when we first started to form into this ill-suited, but pretty hot fighting unit. Suddenly, we had to be working together. No one was a slacker, I’ve got to give them that. I like being with people who can keep their wits about them, use their heads in a crisis.

The problem is, when you’re caught up in the action, you don’t notice you’re starting to get sucked in.

Sai’da:
In to what?

Han:
Huh? Oh, you know, into this camaraderie thing. In this case, it led right to the Rebel enclave. When you’re just reacting moment to moment, you don’t have time to figure out what kind of bonds you’re forming. I wasn’t looking for involvement, believe me. My life’s credo was always this: One man, one Wookiee command post. And I like it that way. My loyalties were to survival. Period.

Sai’da:
I understand survival, but I’m curious about your lack of involvement.

Han:
Actually, I’m curious about
your
lack of involvement. I still don’t understand your deal—living here with Jabba the Hutt. How can you not be a part of his wayward circus, whether you want to be or not?

Sai’da:
I have already explained that we are not associated with Jabba the Hutt.

Han:
Oh, yeah, well, tell me how you can hang out in the same place with an immoral creature like Jabba and call yourself a monk? I know, you said you don’t make moral judgments. Well, maybe you ought to. And you could start by taking Chewie and me to Leia. I think you could if you honestly wanted to. We could come up with a plan.

Sai’da:
I cannot assist you with any such plan now. I’ve explained why. Perhaps later… please, return to your history and speak to me of this woman you wished to rescue then as now.

Han:
You might sympathize with me, Sai’da, but for a religious man, you sure don’t seem to have much compassion.

I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore.

Sai’da:
You misjudge me, Mr. Solo. I know I don’t express myself in the most compassionate manner, but I am not accustomed to discussions of this nature. Your frustration with your situation is understandable. What can I do, within my capacity, to prove to you my good intentions?

Han:
Listen. I understand you’re just one monk against Jabba’s army, okay? I know the feeling. But you could at least get a map to us, couldn’t you?

Sai’da:
Yes, I believe that is something I could provide. Given time.

Han:
And if I don’t make it out of this little scrap alive, maybe you could look out for Leia or—

Chewbacca:
Narowrrr!

Han:
Let’s be realistic, Chewie. It’s a possibility. What do you say, compassionate one?

Sai’da:
That seems a reasonable and decent request. I accept the responsibility to the best of my ability.

And now, if we are in agreement for a time, perhaps we could return to your history. Surely if I knew more about the princess it could only help me in my endeavors.

Han:
You’re right, I suppose. I just hope I can trust you. But since you seem to be my only option…

Let’s see, why don’t I describe how romance started to bloom right down there in the garbage unit. The compressor was about to mash us into particles for ejection into the vast garbage collector of space. Oh yeah, to be sure, we were about to say our last hallelujah, when those droids finally remembered to tune us in, and saved our sweet humanoid hides. That’s when the princess started going all sweet on me. Yeah, that’s my interpretation.

I have to admit she caught my attention. She’s as pretty as any woman anywhere in the galaxy. And I should know. There are some planets that have a reputation for beautiful women, like Beckoning Call Starr 3. Well, I think they should put Alderaan at the top of the list.

Anyway, she had guts, too. Unfortunately, she also had a case of holding her royal nose too high in the sky. I don’t mind telling you that I don’t like taking orders from a woman. But I’m learning.

Besides, remember that woman I told you about earlier—Bria Tharen—the one who pulled the blaster on me to keep me from my reward? Well, I’d rescued her, too, believe it or not. She was a slave I’d freed from the spice colony, Ylesia. Obviously, the romance did not end well. She was definitely an Alliance kind of woman only.

And I was sure Leia was a similar kind of trouble, maybe worse. You gotta wonder how much room a woman like that has in her heart for romance. And listen, you can’t trust royal titles any more than you can trust a woman. To be sure.

The fact is, I trusted only my main pal and partner, Chewbacca. Huh, Chewie?

Chewbacca:
Waurrgh.

Han:
Actually, I rescued Chewie here, too. I never realized what a rescuing kind of guy I am. You talk long enough you start seeing things in a different light. Sight being relative at this point.

Yeah, I was actually in the Imperial starfleet before I turned to my alternative lifestyle. Me, a big career man.

The Imperials didn’t care about Wookiee culture. Actually, they didn’t care about much of anything except controlling the galaxy. But you probably know that by now. Anyway, Wookiees were a species enslaved under Imperial law. Can you believe that? There’s a lot of slavery in the galaxy that people don’t know about or choose to ignore. It’s not just in the history books. It’s happening right now. I tell you, people just don’t know how to leave each other alone.

It can make you crazy watching the rotten stuff one species does to another. One day this slaver was particularly hard on one Wookiee, treating him so badly I couldn’t stand by and watch. I’d heard the phrase, “It’s none of your business,” one too many times, so I took action.

My good deed was rewarded. I was court-martialed and booted from the majestic Imperial Navy. But here’s the catch.

Chewbacca here was that Wookiee. And my intervention in his life, my making him my business, had established his “life debt” to me. Some Wookiee custom, that. He was ready to follow me anywhere, and he did. At first it annoyed the Corellian rats out of me that I couldn’t ditch the furry beast.

Chewbacca:
Bwaaark!?

Han:
Easy, pal, you
know
that’s how it was in the beginning. But it didn’t take long for me to get to like having Chewie around. I mean, he was saving my life repeatedly once my new trade took off. Plus, he’s good company if you understand the peculiarities of Wookiee talk. I sound pretty stupid trying to speak Wookiee, but I understand it well enough. Now we’re friends. I don’t like to think that a “life debt” is what keeps us partners anymore. It isn’t, is it, Chewie?

Chewbacca:
Naarghh.

Han:
Thanks, buddy.

Han:
Where was I? The garbage dump. Great place to return to. Yeah, the garbage compactor was putting the squeeze on us. Luke was trying to rouse Threepio on the comlink with no success. Finally I
wanted
to hear Threepio’s voice and where was he? Anyway, we were pushing on the walls and using puny metal beams as braces like we had half a chance of stopping that giant machine. It was not a feel-good situation.

Suddenly, Threepio came squawking over the comlink and Luke shouted like a maniac to stop the compressors. We were a happy group there for a minute once Artoo stopped the walls from moving in on us. We were inches from a skinny death. A close call—again.

Leia used our brief celebration as an excuse to throw her arms around me. What could I do but let her? Ha! I told you romance was blooming in the garbage dump.

Too bad we didn’t have more time to enjoy being alive before worrying about being killed again.

That’s about when the princess really started working my nerves. She put aside our moment of bonding in a hot second. She told me to do as she said. I set her straight. I told her I only took orders from one person, me! She said it was a wonder I was still alive! Can you believe this woman? Remember I told you, Sai’da, that I don’t like taking orders from women? Well, especially that woman.

Facing Jabba the Hutt without any money was sounding a lot better than sticking around Her Worshipfulness for some huge reward. Not that I had any choice at that point. Oh, they’d suckered me into their little scheme all right. So deep that the only way out was to save all of us.