Chapter 3: Ladies shoot first

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Once again, the sight of the cantina greets my eyes. I have now developed a perfect plan. I bet ten thousand credits that the droids are being taken to Alderaan to be given to Bail Organa, a Rebel leader. It's the only theory that makes sense. So all I need to do is somehow persuade Han to give Luke, Ben, me and the droids passage to Alderaan, get the droids to the rebellion and then...tell Saponza...yay.

I notice Chewie over by the bartender, and race over to him.
"Hi Chewie...again..." I say.
"Roaargh!" Chewie says.
"Yeah listen." I say. "See that boy and old man over on the other side of the bar?"
Chewie roars in agreement.
"Good. Now, Chewie, they're looking for a crew and ship to take them to Alderaan. Think you could offer the services of the falcon to them?" I ask, praying this will work.
Chewie contemplates this for a moment, then nods. "Good. Hey, maybe I could tag along."

Chewie shakes his head, like a father would do. I may be eighteen, coming up nineteen, but in his eyes I'm still the small, cute thirteen year old he and Han rescued from the Imperial Acadamy five years ago. Good times. I walk over and crouch in a shady alcove, ready to watch the action unfurl.
Chewie walks over to Han and begins to have a rather heated little discussion. After about five minutes, Han nods his head at Chewie, who then walks away towards Luke and Ben. Please work, please work... I keep praying to myself. At some point I unfocused, because the next thing I know a low metallic hum and an agonising cry fill my ears. Jolting upright, I see Luke lying against a metal crate, two mercenaries lying on the floor and Ben standing over all of them, holding some sort of, I don't know, laser sword. His eyes sweep around as everyone goes back to their previous state-drinking, bartering and getting drunk, before reaching out a hand to Luke and pulling him upright. I raise my eyebrows slightly, before sliding out of the alcove and over to where Han is now sitting.

"So..." Han says, raising his eyebrows mockingly "First you diss me for being employed by Jabba, then you come crawling back because you, and old man and a kid need a lift to Alderaan."

I shrug "Something like that."

He sighs melodramatically "I will never understand women. Alright then, I'll give you a lift to Alderaan, no fees."

I sigh heavily in relief "Thank you so much Han, I-"

"And in return, you have to help me out with a smuggling mission for Jabba." he says, smiling cockily at me.

"WHAT?" I yell, so loud that several heads turn in our direction.

"SO, what do you say, sister?" Han asks, winking "Smuggle, or no trip to Alderaan. That means no trip for the duo, either."

I sigh. Han's got me in checkmate. Much as I dislike Jabba, the fate of the rebellion relies on me getting the droids to Alderaan safely. My morals are irrelevant at this point. "Yeah, whatever.' I mutter, "Smuggle for a slug. Deal. Got it."

"Good," Han laughs, the glances behind me "Now why don't you run along and get a drink, while I go and do a business deal with my two recommended clients."

I wheel around to see Luke, Ben and Chewie approaching us. "Right," I say, "See you in...an hour?"

Han nods "Docking bay ninety-four."

As I walk away, I mutter under my breath repeatedly "Ninety four, ninety four, ninety four..."

At the bar, I order a cup of Jawa juice (about the only halfway decent drink in the whole of Mos Eisley) and sit, like everyone else in this whole force-saken place, and ponder life. I'm halfway through my second cup when I see half a dozen stormtroopers swarm into the cantina.

Oh shoot.

I crouch down in my seat and hunker over my cup. After a while, I hear them leave. Relief first crowds my thoughts, then puzzlement. If the stormtroopers weren't here to arrest a Rebel, like, well, um, me (!), then what on Naboo were they doing? Then it hits me. Ben. His laser thingy. The influence he has over some people in the Cantina. His strange clothing.

Ben is...a Jedi?

Force, this is bad. If Han gets into trouble for smuggling a Jedi off planet then he'll be killed oh force this is all my fault oh force he's gonna be killed by the Empire!

"Going somewhere, Solo?"

I stiffen and wheel around, to see a Rodian pointing a gun at Han's chest.

Greedo.

Scrap all that shit about the Empire. Han's gonna be killed right here, right now.

"Yes, Greedo. As a matter of fact, I was just going to see your boss. Tell Jabba that I've got his money." Han says, hands up, slowly descending back down into the booth, Greedo following.

 "It's too late." Greedo snaps back in Rodian angrily "You should have paid him when you had the chance. Jabba's put a price on your head, so large that every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I'm lucky I found you first."

Oh, so Han's a wanted man now? Funny, he forgot to mention that to me. I slowly stand up and make my way towards them.

"Yeah, but this time I got the money." Han protests.

"If you give it to me, I might forget I found you." Greedo offers. Hah. Fat chance.

"I don't have it with me." Han says "Tell Jabba..."

Greedo cuts him off abruptly "Jabba's through with you. He has no time for smugglers who drop their shipments at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser."

Ouch. Hey, Greedo, if faced with a Star Destroyer, I doubt you'd stick around. Urgh. Hypocrites.

Han sighs "Even I get boarded sometimes. Do you think I had a choice?" 

I see Han slowly reach for his blaster. Casually, I feel for mine on the belt encircling my waist.

"You can tell that to Jabba." Greedo says "He may only take your ship."

"Over my dead body." Han snaps, getting territorial over his ship, the Falcon. Seriously, I swear he wants to marry it someday.

"That's the idea." Greedo states plantitively, "I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time."

"Yeah, I bet you have." I snap, bringing attention to myself for the first time.

Han and Greedo both spontaneously reveal their blasters at the same time.

BANG!

The smoke clears to reveal Greedo's smoking body lying face down on the table and Han looking at me, stunned. I casually lower my blaster and replace it in it's holster, before shrugging in his direction. I toss a credit chip in the bartender's direction, before walking out of the cantina, ignoring all the stares aimed in my direction.


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