Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo
Page 4
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.
DATA PAD ENTRY 10
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.
Ahhh, nuts. That’s beside the point.
What was the point, anyway? Oh, great escape number 22, but who’s counting? So, Luke and I might have had a hard time maneuvering in those Imperial get-ups, but it sure didn’t stop those troopers. They were on us the minute we headed for the ship. Those guys had me so worked up that I actually chased a whole pack of them down the corridor single-handedly, screaming like a demented Wookiee—
Chewbacca: Vowraaark!
Han: No offense, pal, but you joined me, which proves that you actually are a demented Wookiee. Ha, ha, ha, ha!!!
Excuse our laugh attack, Sai’da. Just a moment’s reprieve.
Well, our little wild foray after the stormtroopers gave Luke and Leia a chance to run for the Falcon. But the troopers suddenly figured out that a crazy man and a Wookiee weren’t much of a match for a squad of heavily armed goons. Guess who was on the run then?
Chewie and I took quite a tour of the Death Star, making our way back to the docking bay. We figured there was no point leading them right to the Falcon.
The first wrong turn led us somewhere we definitely didn’t belong. We were looking at enough spanking-new Imperial fighters to torment the entire galaxy. These guys knew how to run an Empire. Made my blood run cold just thinking what the Death Star could do. Chewbacca and I looked at each other and those ships, and I said, “If and when we reach the Falcon, we’re outta here—with or without company!”
But Chewie kept telling me that they’d be there. I tried to remind him that he was being awfully concerned about someone who had called him a walking carpet.
“What about Luke and Ben?” you might ask.
I mean, I’m not so sure I would have been able to leave them either, but I was willing to consider that solution.
We needed to get back to the docking bay, but at this point we were a little turned around. All right, we were lost. The Death Star is a maze. We made small forays down corridors that ended at locked doors. Things seemed unnaturally quiet after all the excitement we’d been through. It made us jumpy, hearing our footsteps echoing down hallway after hallway. I had to wonder, Where was everybody?
When we came to the next shut door Chewie was so frustrated he slammed his fist into it. Unbelievably, it opened. We looked at each other. Since no one was firing on us yet from the other side, we stepped in. What a trip! We were in the stormtroopers living quarters.
Chewie immediately throws me against the wall. But before I could protest, he points to a small camera attached to a metal arm extending from the far side of the ceiling. Just one—scanning the center of the room. The Imperials weren’t even taking a chance on their own boys. I bet one nasty word about the Empire and you’re jettisoned into space. It was a bad scene all the way around.
I said living quarters, but it was more like an insect colony. Shiny white beds were stacked ten high in rows covering a good portion of the room. Each bed had a monitor attached to it no bigger than my two fists. Every now and then some of them would flicker on and an announcement would be made. I wonder if those guys got any sleep what with the Empire keeping them informed all the time.
There was another door on the far side of the room, right below the camera. We slid along the walls, which were metal and cold to the touch, to the door. I put my hand on a place in the door that had a small indention, and the door opened. Looked like it was a storage area for all the stormtroopers’ gear. One of the tall, podlike lockers was open, and a familiar white suit hung inside.
Chewie and I were wondering what to do next when we heard someone enter the living quarters. There was nothing to hide behind. We just had to hope that no one needed anything inside. We had our blasters ready, but I was not wanting to call attention to myself in that no-exit environment.
We weren’t sure how many came in, but when they took off their helmets there were just two guys talking. It was an odd experience listening to them talk. I guess I thought they were going to have voices like droids and talk about the glories of the Empire or something. Instead, they were wondering when they got leave. One of them wanted to see his mother. The other guy just wanted a vacation someplace with trees.
It kind of flipped me out, to tell you the truth. I don’t like seeing myself in my enemies, you know? That was one scary realization. I mean, they were just talking about regular stuff. Like me and Chewie would do. Do you get what I’m saying?
Sai’da: Yes. It would be easier if everyone were all good or all bad.
Han: Something like that. Not that they weren’t the bad guys, because they were. I just wish they had been talking about evil instead of about their families and vacations. It would make life simpler, somehow. Still, once they’ve got their helmets on and are coming at you in swarms, I’m back to thinking of them as the insects of doom.
Anyway, we were listening to the troopers chatting and inching our way to the door. We didn’t want to be caught too far inside the storage area in case they decided to check it out. Chewie rubbed past this wall unit of some sort and sparks started flying. The Death Star is not made to have organic material around, I can tell you that much.
It got quiet in the other room. I was pretty sure we were about to have a little face-to-face with the troopers. But then an announcement blasted into the living quarters that two intruders were cornered near the loading dock! “Everyone report to section five.” That was not good news. Except for the fact that the troopers left in a hurry instead of investigating the noise Chewie instigated.
Chewie and I slinked out along the walls the same way we came in. We made our exit and had to decide: which gleaming corridor should we chose this time?
We were moving fast but stealth-like when we heard a strange hiss coming and turned into an alcove. Lucky us—we were just in time to see Darth Vader slither by. Now, I had heard tales of the Dark Lord over the years, but nothing prepared me for actually seeing him. I’ve seen some bad action in the galaxy, but this guy has everything beat. Have I mentioned that the Death Star was no place for a sane man? Well, this guy tipped the balance sheet. He was as evil as they get. I could see it. I could feel it. Catching his attention would not have been a smart move.
Still, we managed to pick up and lose a few more troopers on our way. I quickly forgot my insight into the inner lives of the stormtroopers when they opened fire on us. They weren’t like me. They were in the same ugly game as Darth Vader.
Vader might be the walking embodiment of evil, but even evil needs help. So every trooper we downed with our blasters, I thought of as another speck of evil eliminated.
We finally wrapped up our tour of the Death Star, and arrived back at the landing pad.
The Falcon was waiting for us, guarded by the ever-loyal boys in white. She’d never looked more beautiful to me.
Luke and Leia came running up behind us. I was glad to see them, too, of course, but I did wonder what took them so long.
We were all just staring at the Falcon, waiting to make a move. Have you noticed that advance planning is not our strong point?
Suddenly, the troopers noticed a commotion and moved away from my ship, giving us a shot at boarding her. We were hightailing it toward our one chance out of the Death Star when Luke spotted Ben. You’ll never guess what he was doing. Dueling with Darth Vader! What a sight that was, two guys who couldn’t be more different, Ben and Vader, fighting with their antique lightsabers.
Then it got even stranger…
The old man spotted Luke. Now, I didn’t see this so clearly, but Luke did, poor kid. And I trust him on this. Ben apparently just raised his lightsaber in front of his face, stood still, and let Vader take him out.
Had to be a sacrifice. It freaked the kid completely and he screamed, “Nooooo!”
That got the troopers’ attention. They started firing on him and the kid was so mad or stunned or something that he just stood there firing back. I was trying to cover him some, but it wasn’t easy. It’s never easy when firepower is coming your way, and don’t let anybody tell you different. I finally got the kid’s attention and shouted to him to blast the door shut. He did. That trapped Vader on the other side and kept more of the Imperial insects from joining the fray.