"Jabba, Jabba, Jabba,” Han Solo had no idea how he was going to talk himself out of this one, but a charming smile couldn’t have hurt the situation. “You gotta believe me, I wanted to get that shipment to you just as much as you did. You think I like missing deadlines or dumping cargo?” The Hutt didn’t respond, his wrinkled, slime-crusted face more impassive than Solo had ever seen. The slug’s wide, ugly orange eyes tracked the smuggler as he paced back and forth.

“No!” Han put his hands on his chest and gave the most hurt look he could manage. “I’m a businessman at heart, so when those Imperials started boarding me, it was either face a life sentence or--”

“Or lose my money.” The Hutt bellowed. His long green tail struck the sand and raised a small plume of dust. Han wasn’t the most fluent in Huttese, but he had taken enough jobs from Jabba to know a good tone from a bad one.

Solo kept his hands on the sides of his waist, fighting the urge to scratch that itch rising up his back and onto his neck. “It wasn’t an easy choice, Jabba.”

“And was frying poor Greedo an easy choice, Solo?” This time, Han didn’t have to fake his outrage--but he definitely tempered it a bit.

“You sent Greedo to blast me!”

“Greedo was told to send you a message.” Jabba gurgled out in his wet language. Han really wished the Hutt would’ve just learned some Basic, Guess when you’re the big, bad boss of the Underworld, you don’t really have to cater to your employees, Solo thought to himself.

“If the message was that you wanted me neck deep in the nearest sarlacc pit,” He shifted his weight as he felt the less than subtle truth in his words. “Then message received.”

The Hutt let out a sonorous laugh, his meter wide head throwing back as much as his lack of a neck would allow. Han took the time to triple check his possible exits. Yup, he lamented, Still trapped.

A dozen of Jabba’s finest covered each exit; a ragtag group of the roughest humans, rodians, and weequays Han had the displeasure of being held prisoner by. To Jabba’s right was perhaps the worst of the whole bunch--Boba Fett. The infamous Mandalorian had been working for Jabba for years, taking care of any snitch, runaway, or loose end that happened to be bad for business. He was said to be faster than a Jedi, deadlier than an acklay, and uglier than a rancor. Unfortunately, Solo found himself on Jabba’s short list, and taking care of a dozen of Jabba’s enforcers sounded like a vacation compared to taking on Fett.

Han’s eyes covered the remainder of the bay, all that he had going for him was the Falcon, but even with Chewbacca inside, Han knew that it would take far too long for the ship to power up its defense turrets to be of any help--and he couldn’t really signal to the wookie from outside without Fett blasting him. Besides, Chewie knew better than to try anything.

Every possible out was blocked, every move checked, and no matter how many times Han ran through the situation, it all ended exactly the same--except for one small detail. Just as the Hutt’s boisterous laughter died down, Han caught the slightest movement of something on one of the upper balconies of the docking bay. Cover fire seems a bit overkill, huh, Jabba? Solo thought to himself, but, for some reason, it didn’t feel like another precaution.

“Solo, my boy,” Jabba’s ravenous mouth drew the smuggler’s attention again. “It pains me to do this, but,” Han took a step back and glared at the Mandalorian who had drawn his blaster. The cornered smuggler didn’t bother reaching for his own DL-44...not yet while the odds looked like this. “You’ve cost me too much, too often. I’m afraid that last job was your last.”

Han let himself catch his breath, long enough to mask his panic with even more confidence, but short enough that Boba didn’t take it upon himself to scorch him.

“What if I could find another job--one worth double that last shipment?”

The Hutt let out a low groan. “Han, you were my favorite out of the bunch. Fett, you may--” Jabba was cut off by the loud ringing echo of a blaster shot, and he grunted in surprise as his hired bounty hunter flew backwards. Han wasted no time drawing his own blaster and opening fire on the two nearest thugs.

They were caught off guard and fell with a thud, but Solo wasn’t as lucky with the rest--not even a second later, the surprise faded, and the other enforcers cocked their blasters and trained them on Solo. A familiar wookie battle roar reverberated through the Falcon as it powered on, its repulsorlift engines raising a cloud of sand and dust, obscuring Han and the Hutt. Heh, they won’t dare shoot knowing they might hit target practice over here.

“You will pay for this, Solo!” Jabba roared furiously, unable to do much more as Han placed his blaster against the slug’s thick body.

“Probably,” The smuggler agreed. “But it doesn’t look like I’ll be paying today.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Han saw Fett roll to his feet, grabbing his blaster, and aiming at Solo in one fluid motion. The bounty hunter was as quick as the stories about him said, and as Fett let loose a volley of blaster shots, Han realized maybe one of those stories hadn’t been as true as the others.

----

Luke had begun to think that maybe getting involved with this Solo guy was more trouble than it was worth, but seeing the brown haired man try and talk his way out of a hopeless situation made Skywalker’s heart drop. To get into the docking bay, he and Ben had to sneak around armed guards blocking the entryways, they were lucky that no one was up on the second floor overlooking the bay. From their vantage point, they were able to hear the exchange and see the slow, inevitable shift towards Solo’s end...and Luke couldn’t stand for it.

As the Hutt let out a deep laugh, Luke began to rise and reached for the blaster he had taken with him from home. Just as his fingers edged the handle, he felt Ben place a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Luke.” Is all the hermit said. Luke brought his head down just as Solo threw a passing glance up to where they were.

Imagining himself in the man’s position, trapped and alone, Luke felt a surge of empathy for Solo. Whatever he had done to put himself in the position didn’t matter, Luke could feel the fear in Solo resonating inside his own mind. The short hairs on Luke’s arm rose with a wave of chilling goosebumps, an uncomfortable itch moving up his spine to his neck. Luke scratched the spot, and refocused his attention on the scene below.

The green armored gangster had raised his blaster rifle and had it aimed directly at Solo. The fear Luke had been feeling spiked, and whatever Ben had tried to tell him about patience slipped away. Solo let out one last plea before the Hutt cut him off, and right before Jabba finished talking, an uncontrollable urge moved Luke to action.

Pulling his blaster, Luke fired a single shot directly at the armored thug's chest, knocking him back. It seemed like that one action spurred a flurry of activity as Solo wasted two more thugs, and the freighter the altercation was happening under activated, its repulsorlifts kicking up a miniature sandstorm. Luke covered his face as the sands hit him. He was only down for a moment, but in that time he heard the sounds of Jabba roaring in anger. Fearing the worst, Luke turned, to find everyone below...motionless.

Around a dozen blaster rifles were aimed at the group of four by the ship. The hum of the freighter’s engines barely muted the sounds of Ben Kenobi’s lightsaber as it deflected the bodyguard’s blaster shots and held itself by the thug’s neck. Luke hadn’t even noticed the hermit move, one second Ben was right next to him, the next he had jumped down and cleared 30 feet. Was this what it was like to be a Jedi? Luke’s mind raced in awe. Super speed? Mind control? What can't Jedi do?

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have business with your associate here.” Ben’s calm voice eased Luke a bit, but the dozen or so blasters aimed at the old Jedi didn’t.

The Hutt let out a series of vicious sounding noises.

“It’s either this, Jabba,” Ben countered the slug. “Or we can see if Solo shoots as he loses cargo.”

"Hey, whose side are you on?" The smuggler let his eyes shift from the bounty hunter to the old Jedi for a half second.

The Hutt looked from Solo to Ben before opening his giant mouth to let out another round of deep laughter, stopping to speak in Huttese again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Solo said cautiously. “50,000 sounds a little high for," He gestured around to Obi Wan and the two dead thugs. “A little misunderstanding.”

With another laugh and phrase in Huttese, Luke saw all the thugs lower their blasters, the one in green armor hesitated before following suit. Solo pointed his blaster pistol a little bit away from the Hutt, and Ben deactivated his lightsaber. Slowly, Jabba and his crew made their way out of the docking bay. They didn’t bother to pick up the dead bodies, instead pushing them aside so the Hutt wouldn't have to crawl around.

A moment passed, and Solo and Ben exchanged a few words between one another. Finally, the smuggler nodded and let out a heavy sigh.

Turning to look up at Luke, Ben smiled. “Come along, Luke. I think we’ve found ourselves a ship.”