Han: That would be good. A start, at least. Whew. This is a tough one, just sitting here talking and not being able to even see. And those noises! I mean, I know you’re a monk, but I don’t see how you can stand it. Tell me, do you ever get any rest in this place? It doesn’t sound much like a monastery.
Sai’da: We are able to retreat into ourselves. When we do so, we are unaware of the sounds produced by the outside world.
I know it is difficult, but perhaps if we returned to the story of Luke and Ben during the Falcon’s passage from Mos Eisley to Alderaan, you would forget for a while.
Han: I’ll never forget what’s going on in this place, believe me. But I’ll keep talking. It’s better than thinking about Jabba’s tricks.
Okay. Where was I? The old man, right? You know, at least one thing Ben had to say interested me—something unusual. He knew his stuff about Wookiees. A lot of people think Wookiees are just giant furballs. They don’t get it. But Ben treated Chewie decently right away. He even taught me a few things I wasn’t aware of, like how ancient the Wookiee culture is.
Chewie had talked to me some about his close ties to nature. I just didn’t realize how ingrained it was in Wookiee culture. Ben called it a “sympathetic vibration” with the natural world.
Sai’da: Interesting. There is much ancient history that refers to this type of close relationship to nature. It is assumed that as cities and space stations claimed the inhabitants of nature’s realm, this gift was lost. Perhaps not fully, however.
Han: Well, I guess that’s what Ben was on to, learned one. I’m pretty sure you and the old man would have had a lot to talk about.
Anyway, Chewie was playing a holo-game with Artoo, the little droid with secrets, but he was listening to the old man say a few words about Wookieedom. I think this might explain Chewie’s initial enthusiasm for the Rebels.
Chewbacca: Narrowwl.
Han: I thought so, buddy. Ben also said that Wookiees have an affinity for the Force. I think it has something to do with the nature thing. Anyway, he found Chewie a lot more complicated and interesting than most people. You can tell a lot about a person from how they treat a Wookiee.
I was almost starting to like the old guy when we got into a little argument about money. Not that he wasn’t going to pay me, just that he found my pursuit of money “trifling.” Give me a break. Maybe he didn’t need anything living like a desert monk—no offense—but making your way around the galaxy requires something a little more worldly, like money.
He seemed amused by my need for it. And so did Luke. Because anything the old man said, Luke thought was written on some holy tablet or something. My nerves were getting all worked up. I got over that soon enough, though, when the bad news hit.
And let me tell you, the bad news happened fast once we came out of hyperspace.
DATA PAD ENTRY 7
Han: We cleared hyperspace at exactly the right point to arrive at Alderaan. I started to relax, thinking this was one weird trip that was over. I was expecting a clear view and an easy ride from here on out.
No way. There was an intense storm of what looked like meteors racing toward us, battering the Falcon. We were completely confused. And the big question was: Where was Alderaan?
I’ll tell you where she was: Gone. Finito. The craziest thing I’ve ever seen. Someone had somehow blasted her into nothing but a billion pieces of flying rock. Seriously, where there should have been an entire, peaceful planet there was nothing. There wasn’t much time to even think about the magnitude of it, though, because this Imperial fighter came ripping by us out of nowhere. And before we could figure out where he came from and blast him to nowhere and back, we spotted the moon he was headed for.
I was preoccupied with the fighter at first and not thinking too much about the moon. I was ready to clear the distance between us and blast him off my list of troubles. All this happened real quick. There wasn’t a lot of time to think about what the fighter was doing in the middle of nowhere.
But the moon… the old man called it. And before I could argue, I saw it was true. It wasn’t a moon. It was a space station. The biggest space station you can imagine, the mother of space stations. It wasn’t looking good. I thought I could turn us around and get us out of there, but we were caught in its tractor beam. The Death Star had us. If ever a space station was aptly named…
I was ready to fight, but Ben pointed out the futility of that path. Sometimes my emotions get the best of me. That old man was quick. He had the mental agility of the best smugglers I’ve ever known. Before we were pulled inside the Death Star, he had us jettison some pods and change the ship’s logs so that it looked like we had jumped ship. Smooth move. We stored ourselves in hidden compartments under the corridor floors. I knew being a smuggler would pay off big time one day. I guess you could say we were pretty valuable cargo…
Sai’da: Why are you stopping, Mr. Solo? Does something trouble you?
Han: I don’t want to reinvent history, but I saw this all a little differently in carbonite. Yeah, I was awake in a funny kind of way while I was amusing Jabba as a living sculpture. What was I titled, Chewbacca, “Handsome Man Grimacing”? Aw, forget it. There’s no way I can make that little event amusing.
Anyway, even though I was hibernating, I had these dreams. Some seemed like actual dreams, but some of it seemed like real life with a twist.
Sai’da: What do you mean?
Han: I mean, when I first came out of carbonite I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming or if this was really happening. Too bad this isn’t a dream.
When I was frozen, my dreams were sometimes episodes from real life. I would dream about when I was a kid or when I was with Bria Tharen. But then something odd would be in the dream that didn’t occur in real life. It would make me realize I was dreaming.
I can’t tell you how many times I had this realization.
In one dream I was in the cargo bay of the Millennium Falcon just like I was in real life. In reality and in the dream it was outer galaxy quiet. Deep quiet. Not a word from anyone. It was like I could feel that tractor beam locked onto my guts. In real life, I just kept waiting for the next sound to let me know what to expect. But in the dream version. I was looking at everyone very closely, like they couldn’t see me.
I saw how Ben was moving calmly, with a clear purpose, like he knew what was about to unfold.
I saw how Luke would have followed that old man to the edge of the galaxy—the old man didn’t even have to ask. There was something real pure in that. I know that sounds corny, but that’s how I saw it.
And Chewbacca here, now don’t go all soft on me, buddy, well, I saw how my life mighta been pretty lonely without him.
Chewbacca: Rrmph.
Han: Thanks for the hug, pal, but it’s okay. I was appreciating you in the moment.
And the droids, of course. I know they’ve got their own personalities and quirks. But it was also as if they were reflections, on some level, of the people who owned them. As if they absorbed a moral code that wasn’t even programmed into them—the integrity of the people around them. In this case, that was a good thing.
Now it’s gonna get even weirder.
I’m gonna sound as crazy to you as the old man sounded to me when I met him.
Sai’da: Not at all. I find this unusually interesting, as I suspected I would. Please continue.
Han: I’m not sure I can explain. Why exactly is this so interesting to you anyway? What religion are you? I’m starting to have the feeling this isn’t history, but some sort of confession.
Sai’da: The B’omarr Order is not interested in confession, as it implies a moral judgment. We are interested in the mind. I am interested in the ways in which the changes in your thinking have affected the changes in your actions. Do you see the difference?
Han: You don’t mess around do you? You get right to the point. I’m starting to think you just might be a wise old monk, if you are old, but who knows? Your voice is so soft and calm I
can’t guess your age. Anyway, let me try again.
This is how it is: My brain might be playing intergalactic creature-chess with me, but…
Looking at the situation now, more or less dethawed from the little carbonite experiment, I think the things I realized in carbonite dream time were things that some part of my unconscious brain knew in real life. Like our time in the cargo hold. It’s like the dream showed me what I could have known—if I would’ve just paid attention. Now, this ain’t no Jedi Knight kind of thing, okay. This is just how it is for typical human beings if we give it a chance. If we would listen to another part of ourselves. And that’s it. I’m not saying any more.
Sai’da: I understand your insight, Mr. Solo. Perhaps the carbonite presented you with an unusual gift of self-awareness.
Han: I said I’m not saying any more.
Sai’da: Certainly. That’s sufficient for now. Please return to your story, though, if you’re ready.
Han: The story. Okay, you want it, you got it, ears, even though just talking about it makes me a little queasy.
It’s like I’m seasick or something. You know how I got floating on the waves on Camus IV, pal, that time we tried to take a little vacation? Chewie and I on vacation—now there’s something to laugh at. Anyway, that’s how my stomach feels now. I can fly through space faster than almost anybody and feel just fine, but put me on a mild swell in an ocean and it’s all over. You ever seen an ocean, Sai’da? Probably not, if you’re stuck here on this wretched planet filled with sand and dust…
You know, Tatooine invaded my hibernation dreams. I’ve spent a lot of time on this desolate planet, mostly hanging around Mos Eisley either waiting for jobs or payment. But I’ve also taken a landspeeder out quite a few times when boredom got the better of me. I’ve traveled around Tatooine enough to remember, in my bones somehow, the feeling of the heat and the dryness. Sometimes in my carbonite dreams I could see the entire surface of the planet just like when the Falcon is circling her, waiting for a landing port. It’s a giant desert spotted with poor farmers’ attempts to wrestle some moisture out of her. Only in my dream, it seemed pitiful. And it was like—here’s the hibernation weirdness again—it was like something deep inside the planet was crying for water. It made me sad.
Sai’da: I welcome your sympathy with our planet. I often wish I could experience an environment other than this one. But we chose our fate and agree to the rules of it. So here I shall stay.
You look tired. Would you like to rest a moment before you continue?
Han: Yes. And maybe you could think about what it would be like to take a trip or two through the galaxy with me if I escape. Alter your fate a little, Sai’da. Think about it.
DATA PAD ENTRY 8
Han: Well, back to the Death Star. There was a lot of the old mayhem and subterfuge going on and a major new twist to disaster in the form of Her Worship. I’ve grown awfully fond of her these days, to put it mildly, but I can get irritated all over again just thinking about that first meeting.
Anyway, the plan the old man devised was a good starting point. As soon as the Falcon got sucked into the docking bay in the space station, they opened her up. I could hear the stormtroopers boarding her. You’d recognize the snap and click of their uniforms anywhere.
The Imperial troopers searched the ship and found just what they were supposed to find: the wrong information. As soon as they went to locate some heavy-duty scanners to make sure nobody was on board, we climbed out of our cramped hideaway. Let me tell you, those cargo bins are definitely better for spice than human beings.
Ben was barely out of hiding when he started talking about deactivating the tractor beam so we could escape. Even though I knew that’s exactly what he would and should do, I called him a fool. He asked who was more foolish, “the fool or the fool who follows him?” I guess you know the answer to that one.
Things were moving fast again. As soon as we relieved the scanning crew of consciousness, Luke and I tricked a couple of stormtroopers to coming on board and borrowed their armor. You want to feel like a clown, try running around in that stiff white suit. I don’t know how those guys can take themselves seriously. But Luke and I, looking all official now, led our mighty army off the ship and right into the sentry terminal.
Chewbacca: Naarghh. Narrowwl. Rawrrk.
Han: I know, I know. Chewie here disposed of the main sentry with a big Wookiee blow to the head, which cleared the way in. I wasn’t trying to neglect your heroics, pal. I just keep getting ahead of myself.
Anyway, Artoo plugged into a computer outlet and located the main controls to the tractor beam. That little droid can take care of business in a hurry. Threepio was translating Artoo’s beeps into a language we could understand—good old Basic.
Once the old man took in the information, he set out alone to dismantle the thing. Luke, being the kid he is, wanted to go. I was happy to stay behind, feeling that I’d paid my dues for this particular trip.
Ben reminded Luke that he had to deliver the droids safely to spare other planets the fate of Alderaan. That was my first clue that I should have been a little more observant of the droids. Ben said the kid’s destiny was different from his. And then, very quietly he said, “The Force will be with you—always.”
I guess if I’d been paying attention I would have figured out Ben knew he wasn’t leaving that space station with us. Instead, I thought the old fossil had kind of lost his marbles—going off to face the Death Star alone.
Ben was gone, and the kid and I were having an argument about what to do next, when Artoo suddenly goes a little berserk. Threepio says that the droid has found her—Princess Leia. Now this was the first time I’d heard about any princess. Of course, Luke knew about her. He and the old man were hoarding more secrets than a smuggler hoards spice. But this princess was being held in a detention block and scheduled for termination, something neither of them knew.
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.
DATA PAD ENTRY 9
Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo Page 3