PROLOGUE
Han Solo is in trouble. Recently freed from carbonite by Princess Leia, he is locked in a small, dark cell in the dungeon of Jabba the Hutt’s palace. He is awaiting a death sentence. If that’s not enough, he’s suffering from hibernation sickness—nausea, blindness, and confused thoughts. Not to mention he doesn’t know what has happened to Princess Leia. Obviously, he is in no condition to escape. And not even Chewbacca’s presence in the cell with him offers much hope.
In the meantime, Han’s presence has come to the attention of a monk, Sai’da, of the B’omarr order of monks. The B’omarr monks live in the very core of the mysterious palace where Jabba the Hutt has unlawfully staked his claim in the outer rooms. The B’omarr monks built this palace as a monastery, but eventually withdrew into the inner sanctum. They have an uneasy peace with Jabba.
Sai’da is a historian. He has a quest for knowledge of species outside of his limited sphere. He hears stories of the Rebel Alliance and of the Empire. Yet he rarely has the opportunity to talk with those involved in the daily struggles. He wonders what motivates someone to join forces with one side or the other. How does an individual life unfold and take shape? How does this affect history?
These are some of the questions that Sai’da ponders as he approaches the cell of Han Solo, led by one of Jabba’s guards. Sai’da is a tall, thin man draped in a dark robe that covers his head. He walks quietly, arms crossed, with his head tilted to the side, contemplating the coming interview. He attempts no conversation with the guard. He has a data pad in one hand that he will activate as soon as he enters the cell. All conversations will be recorded for future consideration.
Sai’da, like most highly trained B’omarr monks, has unique, mystical insight into the nature of others. He senses this will be a most interesting exchange.
DATA PAD ENTRY 1
Sai’da: Greetings, Mr. Solo, I am Sai’da, a historian of the B’omarr order of monks. We built this monastery—
Han: Whoa. I don’t think I’ll be needing any religious assistance in my final hours, buddy, since I don’t plan on staying here long enough to become an appetizer for Jabba’s rancor.
Sai’da: No, you misunderstand. It’s your history I want. I’m not here to minister to you in your final hours.
Han: Chewie, would you mind showing our new friend to the door? I’ve got some problems, mister, and telling you how I got here won’t help them any. No offense. Besides, I’m having a hard time even keeping my head up at the moment. I’m pretty woozy, and, oh yeah, in case you missed it, I’m blind. Chewie, help me sit down before you toss this guy out of here.
Sai’da: There’s no need for violence. I am not your jailer. Besides, I’m locked up in here with you now. I don’t have access to the cell. One of Jabba’s guards let me in.
Han: That still doesn’t sound too friendly to me. You and the guard are pals, right? Never mind, I don’t want to hear it.
Sai’da: The guard and I are not acquainted. I only wish to speak with you. Since my order cultivates patience, I have time to wait. You don’t, however, seem to be feeling too well. Is it the hibernation sickness?
Han: So, you know a few things, huh? If you’ve got some answers, you can have a seat. Like how long is this gonna last? Or even better, tell me what happened to Princess Leia.
Chewbacca: Grrrrrrlwaugh!!
Han: It’s okay, pal. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about our princess. But finding you in the cell was a shock. Plus I was pretty disoriented. Not to mention nauseated. But really, she’s okay. She was very much alive when she got me out of the carbonite.
We were barely reunited, though, when Jabba’s ugly laugh surprised us. A short-lived rescue. And since he’s not one to listen to reason—big surprise—next thing you know his goons have hauled me to this wet, leaky, poor excuse of a cell, and I don’t know where she is. So, what’s your name again, monk man?
Sai’da: Sai’da.
Han: Okay, Sai’da. Tell me where the princess is.
Sai’da: As far as I know, she is with Jabba. She is unharmed. It is for you he harbors his animosity.
Han: Animosity? That’s a polite way of putting it. I like how you educated types talk. I mean, I’m here waiting for Jabba’s spineless thugs to show up and you say… never mind. Listen, the point is, you don’t think the princess is in danger?
Sai’da: I can’t be sure of anything with Jabba, but I don’t believe she is in danger for now.
Han: For now. Not good enough. Can you get us to her? I know I don’t look like I’m in any shape for a big rescue attempt, but my best buddy here, Chewie, can handle the physical stuff.
Chewbacca: Grrrrwwwl!
Sai’da: I don’t want to mislead you. I am in no position to take you to the princess. I am here simply to record your history and—
Han: Maybe I’d feel a little more like talking if I thought there was something in it for me. You know your way around this place, right? But, hey, how come you’re in this monastery—you did say it was a monastery, right?
Sai’da: Correct.
Han: Got to be the weirdest monastery in the galaxy. Anyway, if you’re not with Jabba, what’s your deal? Why should I be wasting my time with you?
Sai’da: Time cannot be wasted, Mr. Solo. Let me explain my presence. The B’omarr order of monks built this monastery as a place of perfect exile. It is vast. We eventually withdrew into the inner sanctum as our practices do not require much space. We focus on the power of the mind and spirit. Unfortunately, people began to break into the citadel and to use its corridors and alcoves for business purposes and hideaways. Jabba the Hutt eventually claimed a portion of our monastery as his “palace.” We rarely see him. We study our philosophies and keep our private peace.
Han: Peace, huh? You’ve got your peace while Jabba’s wreaking havoc on half the galaxy?
Sai’da: He is not our concern.
Han: Well, he’s my concern, monk man, and if you’re not pals with Jabba, how come you know I’m here?
Sai’da: We monks are aware of all that goes on in the palace. We have a mystical intuition into the inner lives of certain people. You have come to my attention. I am a historian and I am interested in your history.
Jabba accommodates some of our requests as he has a primitive fear of our powers. He provided me with access to your cell.
Han: Jabba’s afraid of something? That’s a good one. You might just be somebody I want to know after all. So, tell me, were you aware of me and my history while I was doing my act as the frozen man?
Sai’da: Yes, but only vaguely.
Han: And this intuition you have? Can you use it to tell me about Leia?
Sai’da: I can tell you that she has a powerful force inside her that is not diminished by captivity.
Han: I could have pretty much told you that myself. I was thinking of something a little more helpful. But still… what do you think, Chewie?
Chewbacca: Waurrgh. Rrmph.
Han: Maybe. The monk knows this place better than we do, that’s for sure. I guess we don’t have anything to lose. You seem to be our only option, Sai’da, my man.
Sai’da: As I said, I don’t wish to raise your hopes. I am a historian and I seek to record your story. My usefulness as an escape artist is, I’m afraid, limited. To put it mildly.
Han: At least you’re honest. Maybe. But do you think you could answer a few questions along the way?
Sai’da: Perhaps. As I’m able.
Han: All right, you can start by telling me what you look like.
Sai’da: That’s irrelevant. Only the mind matters.
Han: Are you kidding me? You’ve
been in this dungeon too long, mister, trust me. Try getting yourself frozen up in carbonite for… how long was I a wall ornament, Chewie?
Chewbacca: Awwrk.
Han: A year? A year. I’m surprised my brain hasn’t turned into a big piece of slug gel.
Whew. I’m not enjoying this. Being blind. I feel cornered, like someone could come at me and I’d never know what hit me. It’s not how I’m used to operating. How long exactly do you think I’ll be this way?
Sai’da: I’m afraid that, once again, I can be of no help. I heard that you were suffering from hibernation sickness, but I have no idea how long it lasts. I believe your time in carbonite was a bit of an experiment.
Han: Great. That’s helpful.
Sai’da: I apologize for my lack of knowledge in this area. Perhaps as you’re waiting for your sight to return, you could begin telling me a bit of your history.
Han: Didn’t you just say something a while ago about you monks studying your private philosophies and keeping to yourselves?
Sai’da: As a historian, I am a bit different from my fellow monks. By necessity I have an interest in that which takes place beyond my order. It is sometimes a struggle, this difference in outlook.
Han: I can relate to that. I’m an outsider myself. In any case, I guess I’m stuck sitting here. It’s not like I’m going to plan a big escape in this condition. Maybe I oughta just talk to you and get my mind off the situation. Maybe you’ll see what a swell kind of guy I am and be a little more helpful.
No comment? That’s okay. You’ve got the patience and I’ve got the time.
Well, now, I’ve never been a reflective kind of guy, but now that I think about it, you’ve caught me—so to speak—at a good time. I haven’t had much of a chance to chat lately, master mind, so I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to make some sense out of all this. At least if I die, the Han Solo legend will live on.
Chewbacca: Varawrk!
Han: Not funny, Chewie. Hey, I haven’t officially introduced you to Chewbacca, my first mate. I’m sure he’ll have a few things to say unless he’s changed a lot this past year. Seems like other people have changed, right, Chewie? Ha!
If what Chewbacca says is true, Luke Skywalker is now a Jedi Knight and he’s going to rescue us at any moment. That makes me laugh. I find it highly unlikely that the kid can pull that off even if he is calling himself a Jedi these days. He did say this himself, huh, Chewie?
Chewbacca: Vrowwf.
Han: A lot of changes happen in a year. I might even believe him if he gets us out of this creepy palace. Let’s hope he at least finds Leia. The thought of that slimy, overstuffed gangster toad touching her…
Chewbacca: Gggrrowwwl!!
Han: It’s okay, buddy. She’ll be fine. You said Luke’s on the way. Who knows? The kid has had some amazing moments, I have to admit.
DATA PAD ENTRY 2
Han: Okay, where do I start? If what you want is a historical record, I suspect it has more to do with the Rebel Alliance than with just this scoundrel’s adventures, as fascinating as they might be. So I’ll start with right before I met old Ben and the kid.
I’m a smuggler. Might as well set you straight on that right away. Don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of dedicated Alliance hero. I’ll own up to my past.
Sai’da: The smuggling is behind you now?
Han: I don’t know. It’s starting to look that way.
Anyway, back before I met up with my current Rebel pals I was too busy trying to keep the Millennium Falcon and Chewie and me afloat, moneywise, to give a lot of thought to the Rebel Alliance. The Falcon takes some major upkeep because she’s the fastest ship in the galaxy, and that isn’t braggin’. Ever since I won her in a—shall we say—game of chance, I’ve tried to do good by her. You don’t come by a ship like her very often.
I wasn’t giving a lot of thought to the Rebels in my smuggling days. Not that I was a supporter of the Imperial Forces either. Absolutely not. They were always trying to shut me down.
I just tried to steer clear of any situation involving the Imperials or the Rebels. Politics didn’t interest me. Survival did.
My one encounter with the Rebel Alliance was not a happy one. This is kind of off the subject, but you should know that there were reasons I wasn’t feeling real thrilled with the Rebel forces. You see, I risked my neck to help this old friend… okay, this pretty, young woman. Her name was Bria Tharen. Anyway, she convinced me to help her and her Alliance buddies, and I convinced my friends to help, too. Now, maybe you can’t call a bunch of smugglers friends, exactly, but the smuggler’s code means something. It’s a kind of friendship.
I hadn’t seen Bria for a long time. And then she shows up in my life as an agent for the Rebellion. I wasn’t listening to any of her “Let’s help the cause, Han” nonsense. Until she started talking money. More money than I’d ever dreamed of having. She knew how to get to me.
Bria had a good plan. The Hutt lords on Ylesia had stockpiled a huge supply of the best glitterstim. The Rebellion needed money and needed it bad. The plan was simple: steal the spice and sell it to the Hutt crimelords. If my buddies and I would help, we would get half the high-class spice as reward. Now that would light a spark to any smuggler’s ambition. And it did. It took me no time to round up a crew.
So far, so good, right? Not for long. I won’t bore you with the details of just how tricky this deal turned out to be. Let’s just say it was more than a simple theft, and it involved a lot of fighting. And when we finally get to the spice warehouses, what do you think happens? Bria and her fellow idealists take all the best glitterstim and leave the second-class spice for us, the low-life smugglers.
If I thought I had some tenuous friendships, well, I could kiss them good-bye. My pals turned on me in a flash. Refused to believe I didn’t know how this would turn out ahead of time. My so-called betrayal made them truly furious. They thought I was in on the deal with Bria. You want to talk about some seriously bad attitudes. They blamed me for her treachery!
And she was treacherous. Bria was so completely into the Rebel Alliance that she just had to use me one more time before taking off. Am I a sucker, or what? So when she said she knew where the High Priests stored their treasures and asked if I could help… Yep, even after that spice fiasco I thought I was gonna pocket a few jewels. Think again. The minute we found that treasure and I reached for a share, she pulled a blaster on me! Said she was sorry, but the Alliance needed it more than I did, what with having to buy ships and weapons. Gratitude was not her strong suit, that one.
Sai’da: But she deeply believed in the Alliance? Isn’t this a human trait, allegiance?
Han: Yes! But that’s not the point! Sure, she went on and on about the Empire planning something big and the Rebels having to stop them. She was sincere. But she lied to me! You’ve got to be able to trust people and she didn’t show me that the Rebels were people you could trust. I lost my friends, and I didn’t make any credits on top of it.
Chewbacca: Ahhhhroarr.
Han: You’re right, Chewie, I didn’t lose all my friends. I still had my best buddy, my first mate. But I was not in a good mood, to say the least.
Anyway, you understand now why my history with the Rebels was not a particularly trusting one. I’m not talking politics here. Just plain old human interaction.
I’m the kind of guy who likes to keep to himself and avoid entanglements. Not that that’s always possible. There’s always someone you gotta deal with or take a chance on. I don’t have to like it, though.
All right, history man, I’m tired and I’ve just started. I don’t know if it’s the carbonite or just telling you about my first minor foray with the Rebels. I’m not exactly used to talking. Living inside your head is not an easy deal, even if you seem to think it is.
Anyway, I heard later that Bria was killed in a raid. That shook me up. I mean, even after her betrayal I still cared about her.
And now. Well, here I sit with Leia captured and awaiting who
knows what fate. Do you think she’s in some miserable cell like this one? Is Jabba leaving her alone?
Sai’da: Mr. Solo, I recommend focusing on the fact that your princess is alive. This is all I know.
Han: I wish I could pull myself together. And stop thinking about the here and now. But it isn’t easy. I keep thinking about the princess. So I won’t stop asking you for help as long as she’s a prisoner. Got it?
DATA PAD ENTRY 3
Han: So, forget my problem with the Rebels for the time being. Back to the first point of this story, which is meeting the old man and the kid—the trouble duo. I would have avoided them if I hadn’t been desperate for money. Story of my life.
Your neighbor, Jabba the Hutt, was not happy with me after I dumped a load of spice I was smuggling for him. He’s not a very under standing kind of guy. He didn’t much care that the Imperials had boarded me and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being tortured by a bunch of goons. I’m funny like that.
I really thought I’d find that load of spice I’d jettisoned. Dream on.
So Jabba’s on my tail, pestering me to pay up for the loss, and I’m slinking around Mos Eisley avoiding him and trying to wrangle up some cash. To tell the truth, I wasn’t looking at much work when Chewbacca here tells me there’s money to be had off these two characters in Chaimun’s cantina. Chewie’s hooting about some fresh-faced kid right off the farm and an old coot with a lightsaber. A lightsaber, believe it or not. I was thinking, “Who uses one of those antiques anymore?” But Chewie said the old man knew how to use it. It was no gimmick. Pulled it on a couple of brawlers who were threatening the kid and took ’em apart.
What did I care? Promise of a little money and I was heading to the cantina to check it out.
It’s pretty hard to look out of place in that outlaw haven, but they managed. I had this feeling in my gut when I met those two, like this whole simple trip to Alderaan was going to be more than I bargained for.
But with Jabba ready to sic the bounty hunters on me, I didn’t have much choice. The 17,000 credit fee—I couldn’t believe it: I only asked for 10,000, but the old man says he’ll give me 2,000 and then 15,000 more on Alderaan. Not bad for a clip across space.
Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo Page 1