The following story is based on characters and situations created by George Lucas. Star Wars and related are copywrites of Lucasfilm Ltd.

Han Solo and the Rhammban Set-up

 by Gareth Davies (G.W.Davies@qmw.ac.uk)

The vast white star hung in space, wreathed by twirling, intertwining clouds of dust which diffracted and reflected its bright light in a million multicoloured coalescing patterns. The Rhammba Spirals were the debris left behind by some long forgotten planetary collision and their beauty was said by some to be unequalled in the all the other sectors of the Empire. Indeed, the star's one remaining satellite may have been overlooked by settlers had it not been for the fantastic views of the Spirals afforded from the planet's surface at night. A small planet with few important resources and mostly uninteresting native flora and fauna, the Rhammba Spirals had allowed Ord Rhammba to thrive as a holiday retreat for the wealthy and famous from all over the galaxy. A small, but high profile, Imperial presence on the planet both reassured its rich and powerful visitors and also ensured that the necessary taxes were extracted for the greater glory of the Empire.

The space around Ord Rhammba was busy with activity as numerous privately owned star-yachts flitted about, their passengers seeking an even better view of the Spirals than that from the planet's surface. The sleek, stylish yachts were suddenly joined by a battered Corellian freighter which, to many of the yacht pilots' minds, had dropped out of hyperspace slightly too close to the planet, and way too close to them.

Han Solo angrily switched off the intercom, curtailing the admonishments concerning his piloting skills which flooded several channels. Chewbacca, his friend and co-pilot, raised a furry brow and growled softly at him. Han was not impressed; the Millennium Falcon was his ship, and he was her captain, and he would pilot her any way he wanted, whatever anyone else said.

"Right then Chewie! If that's what you think, next time, you take us out of hyperspace! Then we'll see - " he began, but broke off as he was forced to take the Falcon into a sharp bank to avoid ramming another yacht whose flight path he had intersected. As the two ships passed each other with only a fraction to spare, the pilot of the yacht give Han an obscene Sullustian hand gesture, which Han returned and embellished. Once back on an even course he turned to the enormous, hairy Wookiee squeezed into the co-pilot seat beside him and gave him a hearty slap on the back.

"That showed him! Where did he learn to pilot? These rich kids, flying around in their fancified skyhoppers. The Falcon could take them anytime," Han laughed triumphantly, and then a thought occurred to him. "Hey! Whaddya say, Chewie? Shall we challenge him?"

The Wookiee gave a non-committal grunt and busied himself checking the instruments, his large hands skimming over the control panel with surprising nimbleness. Han frowned for a second then said, "All right! Don't sulk about it! I'll admit it. Maybe I was a little late cutting in the sub-lights, but I've got a lot on my mind."

Chewbacca gave Han a concerned, sympathetic look and hooted softly. Han shook his head and sighed, "I don't know what's worrying me. That's the worry!"

The Wookiee frowned, then let out a long string of grunts and growls, but his arguments did not change the look of concern on Han's face.

"Chewie, with Jabba the Hutt, a deal is never this straightforward. There's always a catch. I just wish I knew what it was."

Chewbacca gave a short bark, then turned back to the controls. If this deal was troubling Han enough to cause him to make a mistake like dropping out of hyperspace in the middle of a stream of low orbit traffic, Chewbacca thought he'd better make their landing on Ord Rhammba himself and leave his friend to mull over the possibilities. Han muttered some thanks, sat back in his seat and closed his eyes. He knew this deal was too good to be true. Han was working for Jabba the Hutt, a big crimelord operating from the small, backwater planet of Tatooine. He received first refusal on any smuggling runs that Jabba offered and, so far, their relationship had been good. Han was a clever smuggler who had always managed to deliver the goods, but the Huttese crimelord was fickle with his favour. Perhaps their relationship had turned sour, but Han couldn't think of anything he had done to anger the crimelord. Well, at least not really enrage him!

The job sure was simple enough. Bring Jabba the Hutt's niece, Heesha, from Ord Rhammba, to visit her uncle in his Tatooine stronghold. The pay was good too, especially as nothing illegal was involved. Perhaps this was what caused Han such concern. He was normally brash, often over-confident, but he could generally tell when a deal had a catch, and the fact that such a large sum was being paid for such a simple job alerted Han's strong, though usually ignored, sense of caution. As the Falcon settled with a gentle bump on the landing pad of Docking Bay 11, Han was glad to note that Chewbacca had had the foresight to give them false names and the ship a false registration code prior to landing.

Chewbacca sat in the lounge area of the forward cargo hold, his chin resting on his hairy fist, his elbow on the circular table top. He gazed absently at the holographic chess pieces flickering on the table and let out a deep sigh which nearly became a moan. Han had been gone for a long time, longer than it should have taken for him to go over to the spaceport terminal, pick up Jabba's niece and return with her. Despite loud protestations, the Wookiee had been given strict instructions to stay with the ship until Han got back. Chewbacca knew it made sense in case they needed to make a quick blast-off, or in case someone tried to board the Falcon, but with Han being so concerned about this job, the Wookiee would have liked to have gone with him. Just to keep an eye on things. He owed his life to Han after all.

Chewbacca's thoughts were interrupted by a red warning light flashing above his head, indicating the boarding ramp had been activated. Grabbing his bowcaster, Chewbacca rose and quickly moved into a position from which he could cover the boarding ramp. But it was only Han who stormed up the ramp and he did not look happy. "Chewie! Chewie!" he yelled. "Get on the com and patch me straight through to that slimy piece of bantha fodder! I knew this deal was too good to be true!"

The Wookiee peeked out from his covering position and hooted inquisitively.

"I'll fill you in later," Han snapped, "but I want to straighten this out with Jabba while I'm good and mad!"

Within seconds the Wookiee had created a direct link to Jabba on Tatooine. Jabba's voice blurted from the com console. Han mentally translated the Huttese and responded angrily, "I don't care how busy you are, Jabba, you set me up! So what are you going to do about it?"

Jabba's reply sounded like a long, controlled belch. At this Han exploded with rage.

"What's my problem?! Well Your Mightiness, you sent me to pick up your niece. A nice easy job I thought. Should've known shouldn't I? You neglected to tell me that she'd been placed under house arrest, pending trial. The charge? Gross sexual harassment!"

Jabba's reply indicated that he had thought this was too small a detail to bother such a skilful smuggler with, but he did concede that his niece, Heesha, could be a little feisty. At this the Corellian smuggler almost burst out laughing, though quickly stopped himself in case it blunt his anger.

"Feisty?! She's charged with gross sexual harassment! Of an entire troop of off duty Imperial stormtroopers! On any other world they'd have just fried her, but this is a pleasure planet, there are lots of rich and important people about, and it might not have looked too good! Now the question is, Jabba, where does the deal go from here? 'Cos I'm sure not gonna bust her out for the paltry sum you're currently paying!" Han leaned back in the com panel chair and put his hands behind his head. He had Jabba right where he wanted him. Had he been told all the information at the beginning, he would probably have done the job for the current price anyway, but Jabba had tried to trick him, he still wasn't sure why, so now his price was doubled, or he and the Wookiee would walk and Heesha could sit and rot. Jabba spluttered obscenities, but Han stood firm and the slug-like Huttese crimelord finally agreed the price.

Han switched off the com' panel and frowned inwardly. He felt maybe Jabba had given in too easily. Was there some other catch to the deal? He shook his head and dismissed the idea. Jabba just wanted to save his niece the embarrassment of a trial, but hadn't wanted to let this be known beforehand in case Han tried to up the price. He supposed that some other, less experienced smugglers may have just gone straight ahead and rescued Heesha anyway, but Han Solo was not about to let that bloated Hutt walk all over him. However, he still felt as though he were missing something.

"Must be getting old," he muttered to himself. Then he brightened and turned to Chewbacca, who was waiting patiently to be filled in, "Come on! We've got a rescue to plan!"

A tarassh bird's distinctive warbling cry rose into the Rhammban evening from the exquisitely sculpted praasa trees lining the quiet residential avenue. Located on the outskirts of one of the more exclusive social complexes, many large, expensive houses dotted the side of the avenue, but one in particular caught the attention of those who passed. The house gleamed white in the light cast from the spectacular Rhammba Spirals which already illuminated the rapidly darkening sky. Designed by the most fashionable architects, it had only one storey, but the ceilings were so high that from the outside it looked as though it could easily have had five. The doorways and windows were wide and low, and the overall impression was one of quiet opulence and power. A purpose-built mansion for a very special lady. A lady who peered longingly from her window at the three white armoured forms on patrol outside.

Heesha the Hutt was confused and a little piqued. Surely those nice young stormtroopers could guard her just as easily inside the house as out. But none of them would come in, despite her kind offers of Taanabian delicacies, Barottian wine and genuine Huttese hospitality. As she watched from the window, they looked so tall, strong and mysterious in their white armour and protective helmets, but as soon as she appeared at the door they seemed to shrink away and wither slightly, and would motion nervously with their blasters for her to return inside. She only wanted to play with them. The same had been true of those other stormtroopers she had met in that drinking joint in the social complex. They looked so handsome, even in their off duty, grey tunics. Strapping, fit young men; she'd thought they'd be on for some games. They explained that they were off duty and were just having a troop's night out. Well, she'd heard what combat types all over the galaxy were supposed to get up to off duty, it could have been fun. But she'd only grabbed and kissed and cuddled a few of them before the place erupted, with the men shouting and screaming and running! Being honest, she had drained quite a few barrels of Barottian wine that night and her head had become a little fuzzy, but she couldn't understand what she'd done to get herself arrested. She'd only given them a couple of friendly squeezes and smackers. No, it just was not fair, and when she had so much love to give!

Heesha's reverie was interrupted by a commotion outside. She peeped out from the window and, to her surprise, saw that two of the stormtroopers were no longer guarding her house, but were attempting to stop an immense bubble-wheeled dust-'droid which was motoring crazily along the avenue. Dust-'droids were gigantic, automated refuse collection vehicles, usually contolled by a simple built-in 'droid, but also capable of being controlled manually from a cramped wire-cage cab. This particular dust-'droid was being driven in a most erratic manner by what appeared to be a drunken Wookiee! The gargantuan, six-wheeled machine swerved violently, completely demolishing a parked XP-38 landspeeder, then came to a juddering halt. A heated argument ensued between the two troopers and the Wookiee, but Heesha noticed that they kept a safe distance from the towering beast, who appeared quite aggressive. Turning to look at the lone stormtrooper who had remained on guard, she was surprised and afraid to see a crouched figure creeping up behind him from the shadows at the side of the house.

Good work, Chewie, Han thought. The diversion the Wookiee had caused had worked. Any prying eyes would be fixed on the altercation taking place between the two stormtroopers and the Wookiee. Only one stormtrooper was left and he would be easy enough to take out, as he was busy watching the argument too. Han, adopting a low crouch and keeping himself in the shadows, began to creep up on the lone stormtrooper. He reached the end of the shadowy region and was about to leap on the stormtrooper when he heard a tapping at one of the windows of Heesha's house. He looked over and saw the familiar, fat, slug-like form of a Hutt, tapping on the window and gesticulating wildly with her short stubby arms. Oh no! Han thought, the stupid Hutt was trying to warn the stormtrooper! Han shook his head frantically, and waved his hands to try and stop her, but she continued to gesticulate and bang on the window. The stormtrooper finally understood her wild 'he's behind you' gestures and spun around, but too late, for as he turned Han delivered a hard kick high on the guard's chest, which sent him flying. Han quickly dragged the stormtrooper into the shadows and finished him off. He then set about stripping the armour from the stormtrooper's body.

Chewbacca was getting heartily tired of the charade. He wanted nothing more than to knock these two troopers' heads together and rip their arms off, but unfortunately that wasn't part of the plan! Thankfully, appearing from out of the shadows at the side of Heesha's house, he saw what he hoped was Han, for the approaching figure was dressed in a full stormtrooper uniform. The figure stopped just short of the arguing group and barked, "Have you not sorted this animal out yet?! Then let me." With that, he raised his blaster and fired at Chewbacca. Bright blue rings of light shot towards the Wookiee's chest, and with a groan the Wookiee collapsed unconscious on the floor. "Right!" he then ordered, indicating to each trooper in turn, "You go and find the owner of that XP-38 and you back that dust-'droid around the side of Ms. Heesha's house where it can't do any more damage!"

Once the two stormtroopers were out of ear shot, the remaining trooper bent over the fallen Wookiee and whispered, " It's me! Are you all right? I set the stun-bolt as low as it would go."

Chewbacca gave a shaky growl of delight. It was Han! The Wookiee shook his head, winced, grunted at Han, then fell back on the floor, a thin trail of saliva dribbling from his fanged, wide open, loudly snoring mouth! "Great Chewie! Nice work! Just go ahead and fall asleep when I need you the most!" Han muttered, giving his sleeping friend's hairy head a tousle. Then he quickly made for the side of the house where the dust-'droid was being parked. He hoped that the trooper hadn't noticed the stripped body he had left behind there.

Luckily, the stormtrooper was having difficulty parking the large, unwieldy vehicle. He was sat in the cramped driver's cage, straining to turn the heavy steering wheel. Han quickly glanced around and, raising his voice above the clamour of the engine, called up to him, "That will do!" The stormtrooper shut the vehicle off and began to climb down. Timing it just perfectly, for he did not want to shoot too soon and risk damage to the controls of their getaway vehicle, Han raised his blaster and fired at the dismounting trooper. The din of the winding down engine was still loud enough to drown out the noise of the blaster bolt as well as the stormtrooper's cry as it hit him dead in the small of the back.

Heesha cowered in a corner of one of the more magnificent rooms in her mansion, trying to make herself look small, which can be difficult for a Hutt. Something strange was going on outside which she didn't like and she had now convinced herself that someone was trying to kill her. Perhaps it was a spurned lover, or a jealous wife, who could tell? She berated herself once again for leaving her personal communicator in one of the other rooms, but by this time she was too scared to go back. Having watched proceedings from the window for as long as she dare, Heesha had rapidly lost her nerve and sought refuge in one of the inner rooms. Now if she could just squeeze herself into a small enough bundle, perhaps whoever it was that was trying to kill her would not notice her hiding behind the antique Khamanii settee and would just go away. There was a crash in the hallway outside the room and Heesha visibly shrank. She could hear footsteps approaching the entrance to the room and her eyes became fixed upon the long shadow of a man cast across the cold marble floor. A helmeted head peeked around the doorway and just as quickly ducked back. Heesha couldn't help herself. Before she could suppress it, an involuntary squeal had forced its way past her plump lips and she had betrayed her hiding place. The armoured figure stood squarely in the doorway now, waving a blaster nonchalantly in the air. Earlier, before panic had sent her slithering into the inner rooms, Heesha had seen the stormtrooper outside being stripped of his uniform. Was the figure in front of her really one of her stormtrooper guards, or was it the mysterious figure who she was sure had come to kill her? She plucked up the courage and peeked out from behind the settee.

"Are y-you r-really a stormtrooper?" she finally whimpered.

"What? Oh - the uniform." Han removed his helmet and glared at her. "I'm Han Solo. I'm here to rescue you."

Totally bewildered, Heesha shook her head. "You're who?"

"I'm here to rescue you!" Han barked irritably. "Jabba sent me. Now come on!"

The Hutt's face visibly brightened at these words. "Jabba!? Uncle Jabba! And I thought you were going to kill me!" she cried. A moment later, Han nearly did, for with one sweep of her arm Heesha knocked the settee aside, slithered over to him and set a large wet kiss firmly on the Corellian's lips.

Chewbacca came to with a start and looked around in confusion. Prior to rescuing Heesha, Han had dragged Chewbacca's limp, heavy body to the side of the house where it would be safe and now the Wookiee felt disorientated. As his mind cleared, he noticed the body of the fallen trooper and he guessed what must have happened. The troopers had really annoyed him during their brief argument and Chewbacca remembered how he had bitterly wanted to dismember them both. Realising that Han must be in the house rescuing the Hutt, Chewbacca decided to wait for his friend outside and busied himself by pulling the arms off the dead trooper. Better late than never, the Wookiee thought, as he tore at the trooper's right arm.

Having ripped the arms off, Chewbacca moved on to the legs and was just debating whether removing the head would be going too far, when he was disturbed by Han and Heesha noisily emerging from a low, wide door on the side of the house. Han had ditched the stormtrooper armour and was desperately trying to quieten the gushing Hutt, who was slithering along beside him. She, on the other hand, was loudly extolling the virtues of both Han and her uncle, Jabba.

"Oh! He is so thoughtful, my dear Uncle Jabba!" she proclaimed. "And so clever, sending a handsome young man like you to save me from my misery! You were so dashing and brave rescuing me from those horrible stormtroopers!"

"Will you pipe it down?!" replied Han through clenched teeth. Usually, he would have lapped up such praise, but they still had to escape and get off-planet, and he was still reeling from the wet, violent attack she had claimed was a 'thank you kiss'. Han glanced sideways at her and stifled a gag. Half as big again as her uncle, the fat on her torso and tail formed rolls which resembled the segments of a worm. Oozing from every pore in her body was a thick, clear oil which gathered in the folds of her fat, where it festered and produced fetid odours. Added to this was her gross attempt at glamour. Her thick, heavy lips were smeared with glossy, scarlet lipstick over which a constant dribble of saliva ran. The heavy lids over her wide, red, snake-like eyes were painted a glittering shade of blue and sported an enormous, fan-like pair of false eyelashes, which she fluttered constantly. To top it off, a large black smudge approximated a beauty spot on her left cheek. Han liked to think that he was broad minded, that he would try anything once, but one 'kiss' from this quivering mound of blubber was more than enough experience of Hutt romance for him! The problem was, he had been forced to fight her off, and it seemed she was game for more! Han wished he could have just grabbed his co-pilot and split, but a deal was a deal, he had to get this overly amorous pile of stodge back to the ship, off planet and back to Jabba.

"Look sweetheart, " Han began, immediately regretting his use of the word 'sweetheart', as a salacious leer formed over Heesha's face, "there's still one stormtrooper out there. I sent him off on a little errand, but it won't take long for him to come back and figure out that something's wrong, so less talk and more action. OK?" Han winced as the leer grew even larger at the mention of 'more action'. He turned away and noticed Chewbacca sitting under one of the wheel-arches of the dust-'droid, the pieces of the dismembered stormtrooper strewn about him.

"Oh great, Chewie!" he exclaimed a little disgustedly, adding, "If you're feeling up to it after your little nap, could you please open up the garbage can so we can get out of here?!"

The Wookiee grinned sheepishly, grunted a greeting to his friend, guffawed loudly at the look of disdain Heesha gave him, then mounted the cab of the dust-'droid and flicked a few switches. The gargantuan machine rumbled to noisy life and with a groan the entire back swung up to reveal a large chamber. This would normally have been filled with garbage, but Han and Chewbacca had emptied it when they 'borrowed' the machine from the spaceport sanitation department depot. Chewbacca jumped down from the cab and joined the others at the back, where he amused himself by baring his fangs at Heesha and growling under his breath.

Though empty of large pieces of rubbish, the garbage chamber still contained a thick layer of brown slime to which small scraps of metal and plastic had become fastened. An acrid stench wafted out from the chamber, a mixture of ozone and rotting organic matter. Raising his voice above the noise of the machine and with an evil grin Han motioned to Heesha, "After you."

The Hutt's eyes bulged and the end of her tail began to thrash. "You expect me to get in there?!" she shouted back incredulously.

"Perhaps you'd like it better back under house arrest?! I'm busting a gut rescuing you, the least you could do is be gracious and co-operate. Besides, it was the only thing we could find that was big enough to transport you back to the ship without you being seen. Now, we're a little rushed, so please, get in!" Han gave her his most charming smile.

"Absolutely not!" she replied and began to move back towards the house, but her movement was halted by a rain of blaster fire from the third stormtrooper, who had just returned. Seeing Heesha, the Wookiee and an unknown male skulking around at the side of the house behind the dust-'droid, he had decided to shoot first and ask questions later. Taking cover behind the dust-'droid, Han let off a few return shots, before yelling, "Get in there or get killed, darlin'! We're getting out of here!"

The stormtrooper had them pinned down and Heesha had little choice but to get into the stinking chamber. Han gave a quick hand-signal to Chewie, let off a few well placed covering shots, then followed her. The stormtrooper ducked behind a praasa tree to avoid Han's fire and, taking advantage of the brief cessation of the stormtrooper's attack, Chewbacca leapt up to the cab and gunned the engine. The gigantic machine lurched forwards on a direct course for the lone stormtrooper, who fired wildly at the murderous-looking Wookiee driver whose blood-curdling battle-cry could be heard even above the clanking of the vehicle's engine. Seemingly oblivious to the blaster bolts zipping around him, Chewbacca roared again and accelerated towards the trooper, but the heavy, six wheeled dust-'droid's top speed was rather tardy compared to that of an airspeeder and the trooper leaped sideways, avoiding its inexorable path. Rolling skilfully, the stormtrooper was quickly on his feet again and, now behind the vehicle, resumed firing at the open back of the dust-'droid, into the chamber which held Han and Heesha. Dropping rapidly to one knee, Han quickly aimed, then fired his blaster. The blaster bolt hit the stormtrooper in the chest, knocking him to the ground, from where he did not get up.

The back of the dust-'droid finally swung closed, and with a resounding clang Han and Heesha were submerged in darkness. Balancing in the blackness and trying not to get thrown against the slimy, dirty walls of the garbage chamber as the huge machine turned onto the avenue and set off for the spaceport, Han allowed himself some smug self-congratulations. "Not a bad bit of rescuing, even if I do say so myself!"

His fellow passenger did not need convincing. To her, Han was a hero, a knight in shining armour. "Oh yes!" she gushed. " You were fantastic!"

In fact, had Han known her thoughts at that moment, he would have been very worried. All sorts of plans were blossoming in Heesha's mind. He's definitely got to go, she daydreamed, when Captain Solo and I become life-mates, that Wookiee has definitely got to go!

A moment later, as they trundled off towards the spaceport, Han did become very worried indeed, for in the pitch black of the garbage chamber he felt a short, doughy arm snake around his shoulders, and after a breathy, sticky whisper of "You're fantastic," he once again felt the hot, wet stickiness of a Huttese kiss on his lips.

With a relieved sigh, Han sank into the pilot's chair of the Millennium Falcon. Thankfully, the large Hutt could not fit into his ship's rather cramped cock-pit and was forced to remain in the forward cargo hold, so he was given some respite from her tiresome and wholly unwelcome amorous advances. He had considered putting her in the rather cramped and more isolated starboard cargo hold, but if Jabba was to find out his neice had not been afforded every luxury available to her on board the smuggler's ship, there could be trouble. Jabba had described her as feisty. Feisty?! Han thought. More like voracious! She just could not be dissuaded. It had taken all his strength to fight her off on the journey back to the Falcon. Han got the feeling that for the rest of this trip, he was going to be tied up with ship's business, really tied up. Besides, he'd been meaning to sew the bloodstripes on his spare trousers for ages, they really did desperately need doing.

Whilst Han was planning ways to avoid Heesha, Chewbacca busied himself preparing the Falcon for take-off. They had already received permission to leave the planet, which indicated their exploits had not yet been reported. Unless a passer-by noticed the remains of the dead stormtroopers, their crime would only be discovered when the guard on Heesha's house was changed. This was probably only due to occur in the morning, by which time they should be safely back on Tatooine, and Han would be richer, much richer. Han smiled at his co-pilot, "OK, Chewie. Punch it!" With a deafening roar the Millennium Falcon blasted off and was rapidly indistinguishable from any one of the billions of points of light which formed the Rhammba Spirals.

Moments later when the Falcon had entered the clear blackness of space, Han switched on the intercom and informed his bloated passenger, "Strap yourself down, we're getting ready to make the jump to hyperspace."

"Oh you beastly man, " Heesha's voice came back, "I really don't know why - ", but she was interrupted by a bright green burst of light outside the cockpit window, which caused the Falcon to shake violently.

Han quickly assessed the situation, realised they were under attack and snapped, "Sorry baby, can't chat! It look's like we've got company!" Sure enough, the tracking screen showed two points of light moving rapidly to intercept them. Han quickly issued orders to his Wookiee co-pilot, "Chewie, angle the deflector shields! We just need a few more moments for the nav' computer!" But a few moments was what they didn't get, for dropping out of hyperspace ahead of them were three wedge-shaped ships. These could be seen clearly in their field of view, and Han rapidly identified them as Imperial Star Destroyers! This confirmed Han's worst fears. He had been hoping it was space pirates, whom he could have easily out-gunned and out-manoeuvred, but this meant their crime had been discovered, and the Empire would be a tougher proposition. Much tougher, in fact, too tough! Alarm bells started sounding in Han's mind. Heesha had been under house arrest for a relatively minor misdemeanour, and only a few stormtroopers had been killed in her rescue. The Empire didn't usually put such a high price on the lives of its troops. He'd done a spice run once for Jabba through a heavily militarised system, where he and Chewie had been forced to dispose of a whole shuttle-full of troops to cause a diversion. They'd only had one Star Destroyer and a squadron of TIE fighters sent after them that time, so why were there five Star Destroyers converging on him now? There obviously was more to this whole deal than met the eye, but Han still couldn't figure out what. There was no time for deliberation now, though. The Star Destroyers were gaining on him fast, and it looked like they would be in tractor beam range sooner than it the nav' computer would be able to calculate the jump to hyperspace. This was confirmed a moment later when a burst of ion energy hit the ship, and all the lights went out. It took only a second for the secondary power to kick in, but it was enough time to completely scramble the nav' computers calculations. The long and complicated calculations would have to be run from the beginning again!

"Time for some fancy flyin'," Han said through gritted teeth, taking the Falcon into a spiralling dive which threatened to shake the ship apart.

"What is going on? I'm frightened!" wailed Heesha over the still open intercom. Han was about to switch it off when, with a burst of static, the Imperials patched in to the Millennium Falcon's intercom and a peculiarly worried sounding voice came from the speakers, "Captain Farn Parnon of the Solar Maiden, this is Governor Pretor of the Imperial Star Destroyer Intimidator. Power down and prepare to be boarded."

For a brief moment Han relaxed. It was all a case of mistaken identity , and they weren't the real target at all. Then he remembered the false names and ship registration code Chewie had given on landing. They were in trouble unless he could get them out of there, and that wouldn't be possible until the nav' computer had finished it's calculations.

"Hold on to your seats!" Han shouted as he took the Falcon into a steep 90 degree climb, quickly followed by a 90 degree turn. The stomach churning manoeuvre took them out of range of the tractor beams but earned them a volley of heavy blaster fire, and a near miss from an ion cannon. The intercom growled with static again.

"This is Governor Pretor of the Imperial Star Destroyer Intimidator. Power down and prepare - " but the Governor was interrupted by the distinctively deep, ultra-bass voice of a Darridian.

"Pretor, you ineffectual fool!" it rumbled in the background, then addressing Han, "Look Parnon! Power down, or you'll be blown out of the sky! She isn't worth it! I'd rather have her alive, but if not, I'll have her dead! And you with her!"

Han snapped off the intercom and frowned. He had realised a short time ago they were wanted alive. Concentrating their firepower, the five Star Destroyers could have soon reduced the Falcon to dust, but, so far, they had received mere warning shots, designed to frighten and disable them, not destroy them. This new development concerned him. Judging from the governor's nervous tones and the way he had been interrupted, the unidentified Darridian seemed to be the one in control on the Intimidator, but that was unheard of. The Imperials were notorious in their discrimination against non-human races. It was all part of the web of intrigue which had surrounded this run from the beginning. If only Han could put all the pieces together, he may be able to figure out a way to get out of this alive. Chewbacca interrupted Han's thoughts with a short growl.

"Good thinking, Chewie! Set it up then power her down!"

Captain Gadan stood on the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer Formidable, eyeing the motionless Corellian freighter that floated just off their port bow. The battered freighter had signalled her surrender and being the nearest ship to her, it was the Formidable's job to haul her in. Why so much fuss was being made over this whole affair he could not understand, but the regional governor had not only requested the Rhammban system's quota of Imperial Star Destroyers be assigned to the task of catching the freighter, but also three more from the neighbouring Javon system. Gadan wondered whether it might possibly involve the Rebel Alliance, whose existence was hotly denied by official sources. It certainly must be something important.

Signalling with his hand to a technical officer stood discreetly off to his side, he issued the order to activate the tractor beam, but before the order could be carried out, the apparently powerless ship fired a proton torpedo directly at the bridge. It exploded harmlessly against the bridge shields, but earned just the split second of time the freighter required to escape. Despite regular drills, the men on the bridge could not resist their natural urges to dive for cover at the sight of a rapidly moving, on-coming projectile and in that split second of panic, the freighter powered up and shot off on a direct course for the Rhammba Spirals.

"Yes!" Han cried as the Falcon plunged into the vast, sparkling clouds of dust. "They fell for it!" He turned to his co-pilot, "Great idea, Chewie!!"

The pair then busied themselves powering down the ship's non-essential systems. Buried deep amongst the billions of specs of dust that formed the dense, twirling clouds of the Spirals, with minimal systems working, the Millennium Falcon would be virtually undetectable by the ships outside - and vice versa. However, the constant bombardment by billions of tiny particles would eventually take its toll on their shields, so it was not a hiding place they could use for any length of time.

"I suppose I had better explain things to our passenger," Han sighed, "and maybe she can shed some light on why we're so highly desirable!"

Walking through the circular opening that led to the forward cargo hold, Han was greeted by a flurry of Huttese chastisements. Though some of these involved physical blows, he preferred them to the loving attentions that had been lavished on him previously. However, her anger spent, Heesha soon reverted to her previous, amorous disposition.

"Oh! Captain Solo, darling! I'm sorry, I just find this all too stressful. And you are so dashing, handsome and brave! You must think me a brute! Can you ever forgive me? Could you ever love me?"

Han totally forgot about his mission to question Heesha about the possible reasons why they were such hot property, and beat it back to the cockpit. It was going to be a long trip home, he could tell. Once seated comfortably in the pilot seat again, he turned to Chewie, "Well, I guess we'd better be leaving. If they're following standard Imperial procedure, they'll have set up a blockade all along the Spirals by now. They'll be spread so thin the won't have a chance of stoppin' us!"

He and the Wookiee powered up and checked all systems, then Han yelled, "Punch it, Chewie!" and the Falcon shot out of the dust clouds, unaware of what might greet her.

Luck, for once, was on Han's side, for the point at which the Millennium Falcon burst from the Rhammban Spirals was only patrolled by a group of four TIE interceptors. The pilots of these small, fast craft, however, did not intend to let the Falcon get away and within seconds were swarming all over the battered freighter, showering her with laser bolts.

"Jam their transmissions, Chewie," Han ordered, rising from his seat, "and take over! I'm gonna take the upper quads and get them off our back!"

Rapidly climbing the ladder up the small access tunnel to the gun turret, Han was soon seated behind the controls of the upper set of quad guns. He donned a head set, adjusted a microswitch on the control grip and looked through the sights for his first target.

The lead TIE swooped down on the battered freighter, raking it with laser fire. Han swung around the quads and let loose a barrage of deadly energy, but the interceptor was too fast and zipped out of range. Han swore under his breath and adjusted his controls. Just then another TIE came into his sights. Sweeping low and concentrating its fire on the sensor dish on top of the Falcon, the TIE passed right over the gun turret and was directly in Han's sights. Han fired and was rewarded with a brief, bright explosion.

"Yahoo!" he cried and eagerly searched for his next victim. Two interceptors dived towards the Falcon, firing rapidly. Han returned fire, but somehow the manoeuvrable interceptors dodged his energy bolts. Just as Han thought they were going out of range he squeezed off a last desperate shot, which clipped one of the TIE's solar panels. The TIE spun out of control, slammed into the side of the other ship, and they exploded in a spectacular multicoloured fireball.

"Just one more," Han muttered, but just then the ship rattled under firepower much heavier than any TIE could deliver. That could only mean a Star Destroyer had joined the remaining TIE interceptor. And the heavy blasts of energy the Falcon had just received meant the orders to take them alive had been changed!

Chewbacca roared a warning over Han's earphones. The starboard deflector shield was failing fast. Another burst of heavy fire rocked the freighter and a warning siren blared in the gun turret. The computerised sights of Han's quad guns sparked and then died, but even more worrying was the information that Chewbacca had just relayed; the starboard deflector shield was out and the sub-light engines were overheating. Han shouted desperately over his headphones, "Can we make the jump to hyperspace yet, Chewie?!"

Just as the Millennium Falcon suffered what Han thought must be a final barrage of fire before they exploded, he received his answer; the stars outside the gun turret window blurred and elongated, and he was thrown sideways. As he half-lay in the bucket-seat, Han thought about how close they had come to death. Perhaps this was the closest so far, and they'd had many near-misses. The Corellian shrugged and adjusted his head set, "Great work, Chewie. Now lets get this baby ship-shape again!"

The twin suns of Tatooine cast a pale, orange glow over the shabby spaceport town. Though still early, the sand-blasted town was buzzing with activity. A thousand shady deals and illicit deeds had already been done, and there would be many more before the day was out. Such was the way of things in Mos Eisley.

The same orange glow illuminated the cock-pit of the Millennium Falcon as she skimmed low over Mos Eisley's rooftops. Han gently steered the ship towards Docking Bay 94, the familiar group of buildings which had formed the resting place for himself, Chewbacca and the Falcon ever since they'd hooked up with Jabba the Hutt's organisation. Jabba. That slimy, double-crossing, son of a slug! On the return journey Han had tried to elicit an explanation from Heesha for their extreme popularity with the Imperials and the Darridian, but she could think of none. Instead, she continued with her amorous advances, of which Han was heartily sick. Thankfully, the repairs on the ship took up a lot of his time, but the rest was spent doing anything he could think of to avoid going anywhere near the forward cargo hold and its lusty passenger.

The Falcon dived towards the circular pit of the landing pad and, from the cock-pit, Han noticed that a small reception party had assembled; Jabba and his goons, he thought. Perhaps now he'd get some answers. As they approached the ground, Han hit the retros, and with a slight judder the Falcon landed.

Han raced round to the ramp, hit the release controls and darted out. The ramp was still a few inches from the ground when he leapt off it and strode towards Jabba. The Huttese crimelord grinned smugly and began a greeting as the Corellian approached, but was cut off by a squeal from Heesha who had just appeared at the top of the ramp. She struggled down the ramp and squealed with delight at the sight of her uncle, who was dwarfed beside her immense, bloated body. The pair embraced, then Jabba turned and addressed the other members of the welcome party. Han shook his head, the anger rising in him. Here was Jabba, blathering on about how it was so nice that his dear niece was visiting him again, when there had been every chance that she, Han and Chewie could have been killed bringing her here and all because of something strange that Han suspected Jabba knew all about.

"OK, Jabba," Han interrupted, ignoring the gasps of the welcome party at his audacity, "it's great that little Heesha's come to visit and I'm sure you've got a lot of catching up to do, but do you mind telling me what this was all about? Huh? Five Imperial slugs tried to stop us and some Darridian was in charge! Now I know you know something - "

He was interrupted by an almighty bellow from Jabba. Heesha gasped, and the welcome party hummed with eager anticipation. A few blasters had been raised, ready to fell this impudent Corellian, should Jabba command it, but the Hutt waved them down. The silence lingered, heavy in the air. When Jabba finally spoke it was, unusually, not in his native Huttese and his voice was deadly calm, "Han, my boy. Respect, respect. That is what this business is all about. Respect - or fear. Forget that and you don't remain in the business for long."

The Hutt's voice trailed to little more than a chilling whisper. Han frowned and was about to say something, but Jabba made a signal and the whole entourage began to leave. As they passed through the wide docking bay blast doors, Heesha turned and shrilled, "Captain Solo, darling! Be sure to come and see me at the palace, won't you?"

"Hutts!" Han muttered, saying the word as though it were a foul expletive. He watched them for a while and was about to turn back to the Falcon when he noticed a thin, green alien in an orange flight suit skulking in the docking bay shadows. He immediately recognised the alien as one of Jabba's hired Rodian thugs who, for some reason, he had never got along with very well.

"Greedo, how nice to see you," Han said sarcastically. The Rodian did not respond, but made his long, suckered fingers into the shape of a blaster, pressed them to his bulbous head and pretended to fire, before scuttling off after the others.

The cantina was quieter than usual; many of it's regular patrons were absent, but that did not mean that it was any nicer a place to be. One killing, nine fights and countless dodgy deals had been made in its dark, subterranean depths since Han and Chewbacca had arrived, barely two hours ago. But Han and the Wookiee liked it here and it seemed the natural place for them to come and get drunk after completing their almost disastrous run to Ord Rhammba. Han still couldn't work out what had been going on behind the scenes, or whether Jabba's thinly veiled threat had been serious, but he reckoned that if he drank enough pitchers of Corellian ale, he just wouldn't care.

The pair sat in their usual booth; Han reclined slightly with his feet on the table beside a row of empty pitchers and Chewbacca guffawed loudly at the Corellian's claim that the pretty amphibian Neetan girl by the bar had been eyeing him up all night. The cantina band played cool, down-tempo music to suit the mood of the place and there was a low but constant hum of conversation being held in many different languages.

Han signalled to the barman for another two pitchers of ale, but the arrival of a new group of aliens caused him to drop his hand to the holster strapped to his thigh and whip out his blaster. The group consisted of Greedo, the Rodian, a bulky, hog-like Gamorrean with a vicious axe slung over his shoulder and a thin, spidery Porgon shrouded in a long grey cloak, the muzzle of an ill-concealed blaster poking out from its folds. The trio glanced around the shadowy interior of the cantina, spotted Han and Chewbacca slouched behind their table in a darkened booth and moved towards them. At their approach Han placed his blaster casually on the table in front of him, but did not release his hand from the grip and kept his finger firmly on the trigger.

The group stopped in front of the two smugglers. Eyeing Han's blaster, Greedo informed Han in fluting Rodian tones that unfortunately, in his opinion, they were not a death squad, but a search party, so he could put his weapon away. A party was being held at Jabba's Palace for Heesha, and Han and Chewbacca were guests of honour. Apparently, Jabba's niece was very insistent that Captain Solo should attend and had sent out search parties when it was reported he was not at Docking Bay 94. The Rodian then made a snide comment concerning the type of women Han attracted and the other two aliens snorted loudly.

Han scowled. Getting drunk in a quiet corner of the cantina with his Wookiee friend was how he'd planned to spend the evening. Avoiding Heesha's advances, enduring insults from this Rodian hoodlum and watching his back in case Jabba decided to terminate his employment with a blaster bolt did not really appeal, but the three stooges in front of him had probably been told to bring him to the party or suffer the consequences, and probably wouldn't take no for an answer. Had he been sober, Han might have been tempted to risk a fire-fight, but the Corellian ales had slowed his reflexes and he thought it wiser to go along with them to the party.

"OK Greedo, we shall go to the ball," the Corellian sighed, rising slightly unsteadily to his feet. Who knows, he thought, if I can sober up on the way, maybe I can avoid being slobbered to death by Heesha and find out from Jabba what this whole mess has been about.

"Any quips like that ever again and you're history!" Han spat the warning at Greedo through clenched teeth as the skiff drew away. For the whole of the journey to Jabba's Palace, the Rodian had been making jokes at Han's expense. Jokes about his ship, jokes about the fact that Heesha fancied him and jokes about his having fallen for Jabba's set-up, whatever it was. Ordinarily, Han would have put a blaster bolt between the fool's bulbous blue eyes, but the Rodian was sat behind him, putting Han at a distinct disadvantage in a speed draw, even had he been fully sober. The Corellian had realised he would have to bide his time, something he did not find easy to do, which made him all the more angry at the Rodian. He'd been looking forward to a face-off when they reached the palace, but he and Chewbacca had been unceremoniously dumped at the enormous iron door while Greedo and the skiff sped off again. Chewbacca growled viciously at the departing skiff, but was drowned out by the groaning of the heavy palace door as it opened. The pair took a deep breath and entered the murky blackness of Jabba's Palace.

The noise rising from the party indicated that it was in full swing as Han and Chewbacca descended the worn stone steps to Jabba's throne room. At the bottom they were greeted by Bib Fortuna, Jabba's major-domo, a tall, pale humanoid wrapped in a long black cloak, with the two long tentacles that sprouted from his hairless head draped around his shoulders. The ghoul-like alien asked for the pair's names and titles so that he could introduce them. Jabba couldn't half be pompous at times, Han thought. With a grin Han gave their names, shouting above the strains of Jabba's band, "The Infamous Han Solo of Corellia, dashing, intrepid captain of the Millennium Falcon, the fastest ship in the galaxy, and Chewbacca the Mighty Wookiee, Wrestler of Gundarks and Slayer of Krayt Dragons!"

A moment later, as they were ushered into the crowded throne room, Han frowned and was glad that the noise of the band almost drowned Fortuna's bellowing announcement, "The Infamous Man Bozo and Poopacca the Sightless Rookie!"

Surveying the room, Han realised why he hadn't visited the place very often. Violent and sleazy the Mos Eisley cantina may have been, but when compared to the den of atrocity and perversion that was Jabba's throne room, it was a veritable puritan's paradise. The room was heavy with smoke and though he never touched the stuff himself, Han recognised the distinctive odour of spice. Judging from the fumes wafting up the passage, a whole freighterload of the stuff must have been consumed. Han settled for an ornate goblet overflowing with a thick indigo liquid, appropriated from a platter fitted to the dome of a passing astro-mech 'droid. Chewbacca growled inquisitively, and Han turned to his friend, "Commenorian brandy - the best in the galaxy. You should try some!" The Wookiee wrinkled his nose and with a short bark informed Han that he was off to find something a little less exotic.

"Suit yourself!" Han laughed, knowing the Wookiee's simple tastes. The Corellian leaned against an archway and sipped his drink slowly, surveying the room. The archway Han leaned against also held the band, which consisted of three non-descript Corellian males and a beautiful feline Padawwa girl, her impressive striped markings clearly visible in the skimpy outfit she was wearing. Han didn't really know about music, but he recognised the loud, discordant number they were playing as a tune he had liked as a youth, when it had been a minor hit on Corellia. The band must have fallen on hard times, he thought. Jabba's tastes in music, as in everything, were extremely fickle. A band would have to be pretty desperate for work to play for him, when a bum note or a bad review could mean instant death! For now, though, the band belted out their long forgotten hits to the oblivious party-goers. Coming from all over the galaxy, the rag-tag bunch of revellers had only two things in common: they were either drunk or high and they were involved in some form of illicit activity. Assassins, bounty hunters, smugglers, slave-traders, thieves and call-girls, from one end of the spectrum of illegality to the other. A real freak-show of debauchery and depravity. Dotted amongst them were Jabba's henchmen; semi-human thugs, Rodian hoodlums, Gamorrean monsters, watching for trouble among the guests, who all too often would be plotting against each other, all part of the jostle for power within Jabba's organisation.

Finally, Han gazed over to the dais on which Jabba and his niece sat. He gasped. Heesha had somehow managed to make herself even more hideous. Perhaps it was the immense diamond tiara that sat on her prodigious head, or the heavy, jewel-encrusted platinum ring that adorned her ample tail. Maybe it was the make-up, applied even thicker than previously and in far more gaudy colours. Most probably though, it was the dress, or body-stocking, or whatever it was. Fashioned from a skin-tight, shiny black latex-like material, it covered her entire body from the third chin down, and seemed to have been designed to accentuate every roll of blubber on her body. In a line up the front were peek-a-boo openings, no doubt crafted in order to tease and titillate her admirers, though the effect was somehow lost on Han. He looked away, then sneaked another peek to reassure himself he had not judged her unfairly and a shudder ran down his spine. It wouldn't be long before she spotted him and slithered over. Han stifled a gag and took a deep draught from his goblet. Still, he wasn't the type to sneak around avoiding the action, even if it meant being slobbered to death, so after appropriating another goblet of brandy, he strode across the room to the Hutts' platform.

Heesha was a trifle bored, but she tried not to show it. After all, her uncle had put on this fantastically lavish party for her. However, she knew few of the guests, and they all seemed such unsavoury types, all the gossip was of stealing and murder and smuggling. Before her visit was over, she must remember to warn her uncle of the bad company he was keeping these days.

So she was stuck talking to her Uncle Jabba and though in her opinion he was a sweet old thing, he wasn't as dashing and handsome as that Corellian pilot. Where could he be? The invitations had gone out hours ago. The beast is probably teasing me, Heesha thought and helped herself to her sixteenth boulder-sized cake of the evening.

Sitting beside Heesha, Jabba the Hutt frowned. Heesha did not appear happy, and he knew who was to blame. Solo. She had not stopped whittering on about the Corellian since she had arrived. Jabba just couldn't understand why she was so enamoured with him. He didn't have the jowls to make him good looking and he didn't have the ruthlessness and vindictiveness that a Hutt should look for in a mate. He was a mere Corellian smuggler, and had come very close to having a bounty put on his head after his disrespectful outburst earlier in the day. It was only because Heesha seemed so infatuated with him that Jabba had let it go. Jabba had always had a soft spot for his niece, and if Solo made her happy...

Jabba's thought's were interrupted by a squeal of delight from his niece.

"Oh! He's here! He's here! My love has come!" she cried, and flopped off the dais and slithered over to embrace Han who had just reached the centre of the room.

The Corellian braced himself as the wave of blubber, slobber and gushing adoration hit him. It was worse than ever, her large doughy hands and wet, swollen tongue were everywhere, but Han grinned and beared it. The crowd were entranced, nefarious plotting and dealings forgotten and sordid unions abandoned as every eye turned to watch the spectacle. When it appeared that she had finally finished molesting him, Han took a step back, and through gritted teeth said, "Heesha, it's great to see you too, but people are watching!"

"Oh you big prude!" she exclaimed, and motioned to embrace the Corellian once more, but with a skilful side-step, Han moved behind her and sat on the edge of the dais, where he instantly struck up a conversation with Jabba.

For the next hour or so, whilst the debauchery of the party went on about them, Han skilfully managed to keep Heesha's advances in check by showering Jabba with a constant stream of pointed, but politely delivered questions regarding the pick-up run to Ord Rhammba. It was a delicate task, as Han had to give Heesha just enough attention so she didn't become enraged and resort to more physical attentions, but also had to be very careful in the wording of his questions to Jabba so he didn't become enraged and order for the Corellian to be blasted to a million pieces. Jabba gave nothing away, merely grunting and waving his arms, but Han sensed that he was about to be let into his confidence.

Turning to Heesha, Jabba informed her in base, guttural Huttese that Corellians are renowned throughout the galaxy for their delicate ears and suggested that maybe he would be more attentive if she let him be for a moment and went and powdered her nose. Of course, the thought of Han being more attentive thrilled Heesha, and with a flutter of her eye-lashes she informed them that that was just what she intended to do.

When she had slithered off, Jabba barked at his talk-'droid to go and fetch them a bottle of Fasskean port and two goblets. Once these items had arrived, he bade Han pour them both a drink. Han handed the Hutt a large measure and after taking a swig, Jabba gave Han a quick, slightly threatening lecture on respect. The Hutt was disappointed that a talented smuggler like Han could not learn to be more respectful. Public shows of disrespect undermined his power, which was bad business, and Jabba had no wish to be forced into making an example out of Han, as he was far too valuable to fry.

Han realised this was a delicate moment. He could either show deference to the bloated Hutt, find out what was going on on Ord Rhammba and regain his equitable relationship with Jabba, or he could laugh in the Hutt's face, as he often did, but risk a blaster bolt between the eyes. "I respect you, Jabba, I respect you," Han said slowly, "I just wish you'd be a bit more straight with me. That's all."

This seemed to appease the Hutt, for he launched into a full and frank explanation of the events on Ord Rhammba. Apparently, it had come to Jabba's attention that the Imperial Governor of Ord Rhammba, Casson Pretor, had a taste for spice and alien females. As these pleasures were generally forbidden in high-ranking Imperial officers, it made the governor an excellent candidate for blackmail, and following lengthy 'negotiations' Jabba's organisation enjoyed many special rights and privileges in the systems controlled by the governor. Spice shipments passed unhindered, Imperial equipment and troops were used in Jabba's own private operations and his niece lived in a luxurious mansion on Ord Rhammba, paid for with Imperial funds. However, Ord Rhammba was a little remote from the Hutt's usual sphere of influence, and the more local Darridian crimelord took major offence at what he saw as a blatant attempt by the Hutt to encroach on his territory. The Darridian seized Jabba's operations and made the governor put Jabba's niece under house arrest, where she was at his mercy should Jabba try to retaliate. Jabba had sent Han to rescue Heesha because he was the best smuggler he knew and if anyone could get Heesha off-planet it was him. And now Heesha was safely out of the Darridian's clutches, Jabba could begin reclaiming his purloined Rhammban operations.

"Well that's great, Jabba," Han said, having taken all this new information in, "but it would've been nice if you could've told me all this from the beginning!"

Jabba laughed deeply and asked Han what his price would have been if he had known all the information in advance. The Corellian grinned ruefully, poured Jabba and himself another goblet of port and stated simply, "Point taken."

Jabba then turned the conversation to Heesha. He told Han that Heesha knew nothing of his criminal empire, and he would appreciate it if Han kept it that way, as she was really a delicate creature and knowledge of her uncle's illegal operations would distress her deeply. As would having her love unrequited. In fact, Jabba added with a deep threatening Huttese growl, he would personally hunt down and emasculate any man who dared refuse her advances.

Han blanched visibly. Just when he thought things had been straightened out, this happened. Out of the asteroid field and into the black hole! How in the Universe am I gonna get out of this one? he wondered.

Just then, Heesha returned. She batted her eyelids at the Corellian and whispered coyly, "Miss me?"

Like a Jawa misses its fleas, Han thought, but with one eye on Jabba and a sick feeling in his stomach, he responded, "Sure, sweetheart. The party lost its punch without you."

Heesha squealed with delight and suggested he come and sit a little closer. Swallowing deeply, Han shuffled along the dais a little, closer to the infatuated Hutt, but out of arms reach.

"Ooh you naughty boy," she chided him playfully, "closer than that!"

Han fought down the urge to retch. Beads of sweat decorated his forehead. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and thought of the pretty Neetan girl from the cantina? He edged closer and began to wonder if a blaster bolt between the eyes was preferable to being slobbered to death by this Hutt. As soon as he was within her reach, Heesha grabbed him and clasped him to her soft, blubbery body. Han was thankful for the black latex fashion mistake she sported, as it at least meant that he didn't have to touch her directly. Unfortunately, her mouth was still exposed, and as her purple-painted lips parted and her plump, wet, tentacle-like tongue poked through, Han once again fought down the overwhelming urge to retch. Either Heesha did not notice or she did not care, for her wet, sticky lips continued their inexorable approach. Han closed his eyes, held his breath and waited for the inevitable osculatory contact, but the kiss never arrived. Instead, a furious roar and a hideous squeal brought all activity to a stand-still.

In the centre of the room, a visibly paler green Greedo was pinned to the floor by an irate Chewbacca, the Wookiee's immense hairy hands clamped tightly around the Rodian's neck, squeezing hard. For the second time that evening, all eyes were fixed on two entwined beings, hopelessly miss-matched and engaged in a titanic struggle. The music died, all conversation ceased, the throne room was submerged in quiet.

The silence was broken by a cry of annoyance from Heesha, "Oh it's your wretched pet Wookiee, darling!"

Han breathed a sigh of relief and, ignoring the insult to his co-pilot and friend, took the opportunity to escape from Heesha's embrace. He walked over to the locked pair and casually tapped Chewbacca on the shoulder.

"What's this all about, Chewie?" he asked.

Chewbacca relaxed his grip on the near-unconscious Rodian a little and uttered a long string of grunts and growls, informing Han he had noticed that Greedo had arrived at the party and, also, that Han appeared trapped with 'that hideous blob of dough'. The Wookiee had thought it a good time to teach the Rodian a lesson.

Han thought it was fortunate few beings could understand the Wookiee language. Even Jabba's talk-'droid was probably not programmed with it. Then he grinned wolfishly for two reasons. Firstly, he was impressed and amused by the nature of his friends 'rescue', and secondly, an idea had just occurred to him that would kill two womp-rats with one blaster bolt. If his plan worked, he would be both free of Heesha's advances and would also be even with the Rodian hoodlum.

"Oh is that so?!" Han exclaimed. "Well I won't give her up without a fight! Let him go Chewie! We'll settle this now! Whoever wins can have her for himself!"

The entire room looked on, intrigued by the spectacle and by Han's words. Jabba felt he was losing control of the situation, and gruffly asked what was going on. Greedo, who had been released by now, rose shakily to his feet and in a hoarse voice began to explain that he had no idea, but Han cut him off.

"Mighty Jabba! This slimeball has just revealed himself to be my rival for the attentions of the beautiful Heesha. I think we should finish this now with a fight, and the winner takes your niece."

Greedo, slightly bewildered by all of this, vainly tried to claim he had never said such a thing, but the prospect of a fight had fired up the crowd and they shouted down his protestations. Jabba nodded his head in agreement, and Heesha, thrilled at being fought over, squealed in delight, "Oh! How exciting!"

Han and Greedo were stripped of their blasters and asked to choose a weapon from a selection brought out by two sweaty, muscle-bound Gamorrean guards. Han chose first, a hefty pikestaff with a vicious-looking blade and grudgingly Greedo chose an enormous ornate sabre with wicked barbs protruding from the hilt.

The crowd were going wild, braying for blood. An enterprising Batharian started a book and from the odds being offered it was obvious most had gambled that Han would win, though the cannier punters waited to see how the Wookiee bet.

Heesha shushed the noisy crowd and held a silk scarf she had found from somewhere above her head. "May the best being win - and I hope it's you Han" she cried, dropping the scarf.

Still a little bewildered by the events he was at the centre of, Greedo did not see Han swing the pikestaff low. It hit his shins with a crack, felling him. Heesha waved her arms in the air and cried, "Yeah! Han has won!", but the crowd roared and urged Greedo to retaliate. Unclear of why he was involved in this fight, but knowing Han had humiliated him, Greedo leapt to his feet and lunged at the Corellian. The sabre's blade missed, but one of the barbs caught Han, ripping his shirt and scraping his ribcage badly. Han backed away and began circling his opponent.

Adrenaline coursed though Han's veins. That had been too close. Though he did not want to win this fight, he did not want to end up a casualty either. In fact, when he had suggested a fight, he had meant an old-fashioned round of fisticuffs and had been a little shocked when the murderous weapons were brought out. Still, the plan was the same: spar with the Rodian for a while, to make it look as though he wanted to win, then fall and submit.

As Han circled him, Greedo glared. What was Solo up to? Why claim that he was attracted to Jabba's niece and then fight him for her. Slowly it dawned on the thick-witted Rodian: Han was going to throw the fight so that he got stuck with the monstrous Heesha! In a fit of rage Greedo swiped at the Corellian, who lurched backwards and fell over a group of cheering Jawas. The Rodian advanced, intending to grab Han, haul him to the dais and make him tell Jabba exactly what he was planning. However, Han was already on his feet and running up a short flight of steps into Jabba's display alcove, where he disappeared behind a semi-translucent curtain. In the alcove were kept artefacts and treasures which Jabba had either plundered personally or acquired by illicit means. In general, guests did not gather in this region of Jabba's throne room, for fear of breaking one of the crimelord's treasures and because Jabba didn't trust them not to try to replace an expensive original artefact with a worthless forged copy. Han intended to use the lack of close observers to his advantage.

Heesha, meanwhile, was getting a little angry. Where was the dashing, courageous Corellian she had known? The Rodian was running rings around him. Han had even run away from the fight into an alcove where she couldn't see him. Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps he wasn't strong and daring after all. And although in her opinion he was far better looking than Greedo, she required a suitor with a bit more stamina. As fickle as her uncle, Heesha began to cheer for Greedo.

Warily, Greedo mounted the steps into the display alcove. "Oota goota, Solo?" he jeered, "Daoota ganna wam baggra catoshkee!"

In the dark behind the curtain, Han translated the Rodian's words. "I'm going nowhere Greedo!" he retorted. "I'd say it's you that's too scared to come in here and fight me!" He would have to play this carefully. If Greedo managed to throw the fight first, he'd be landed with Heesha. Here, behind the curtain, where few could see exactly what was unfolding, he hoped to be able to throw the fight in a way that did not arouse suspicion. Han tensed as the tip of Greedo's sabre appeared around the edge of the curtain and began to draw it back. Han waited just a while longer, enough for him to be able to see Greedo's ugly snout peer around the curtain, then pounced. He dragged the Rodian behind the curtain and delivered a few sharp punches to his midriff. The Rodian doubled up in pain and dropped his weapon. Satisfied that Greedo would be out of action long enough for him to execute his plan, Han dived spectacularly through the curtain, pulling it down as he leapt. As he hit the floor he performed an elaborate roll down the steps leading back to the main audience chamber, and ended in a heap on the floor, still wrapped in the tattered remains of the curtain. He lay there, feigning unconsciousness and waiting to see what happened next.

The crowd cheered as a battered Greedo emerged from the display alcove, weapon in his hand. He limped over to Han and put the sabre at his neck. He no longer cared whether victory meant having to put up with Heesha's advances, all he wanted to do was finish off this upstart Corellian once and for all. With a cough and a splutter, Han rapidly acted out the motions of regaining consciousness, and whimpered, "I submit. I submit."

The crowd, however, had other ideas, and clamoured for Greedo to finish the Corellian off. Chewbacca snarled angrily and made a grab for the Rodian, but was restrained by two bulky Gamorreans. Greedo's snout curled into a hideous sneer, and he withdrew the sabre slightly, preparing for the final plunge.

"Boshka!!" Jabba snarled and everyone in the room gasped and turned to look at the Hutt. His snake-like eyes, narrowed, and his breathing came in short, threatening snorts. In a deep, rumbling voice he demanded that Greedo explain what right he had to kill the best smuggler in the business. Especially after he had submitted. The Rodian quailed before his boss and Jabba declared the fight over, with Greedo the victor. With a speed and vigour that surprised some, Han leapt to his feet, and slapping Greedo on the back exclaimed, "I reckon the best man won, eh, Greedo?!"

But Greedo was more preoccupied with his new found admirer. She slithered off the dais, arms outstretched, a ghastly lecherous smile on her face. "Greedo darling," she breathed, completely ignoring Han, "come to mama!" The poor Rodian was soon swamped by a moist, groping embrace.

"So long, sweetheart," Han grinned, walking over to the dais to reclaim his blaster. He was about to thank Jabba for his mercy when he too found himself the recipient of a tight hug. Chewbacca had bounded over and embraced his friend, warmly congratulating him on losing the fight! The Wookiee showed Han the fistful of credits he had won by betting that Greedo would win. Han was delighted.

"Great, Chewie!" he cried. "I reckon that's about doubled our takings for this little escapade! Whaddya say we celebrate with a few drinks down at the cantina?!"

Jabba looked down at the pair and laughed deeply. Han looked up at him and wondered if the crimelord had figured out that Han had thrown the fight. He must have done! Jabba couldn't have become crimelord of half the galaxy without being able to figure things like that out.

"So how come you didn't let Greedo stick me, Jabba?" Han asked.

Jabba informed him that he was too valuable to lose over something so trivial as an affair of the heart.

"I sure am, and don't you forget it! Let me know when you've got another spice run for me," the Corellian responded cockily as he and Chewbacca headed for the exit.

Jabba shook his head sadly. No respect, he thought, no respect. You just couldn't teach that Corellian. One of these days he'd really overstep the mark and then he would learn the penalty for ridiculing the Mighty Jabba the Hutt, whether he was the most talented smuggler in the galaxy or not.

Putting thoughts of business behind him, Jabba helped himself to a handful of live hudidi worms from the bowl beside him, smiled fondly at Heesha and her new beau, then flopped off the dais and rejoined the party.

The End.