Jyn Erso sat alone at the bar inside Wahaer's Cantina. Not that she hadn't been approached once or twice already, because she had. Fortunately she hadn't had to hurt anyone yet. The night was still young, though.
To her right a loud young man in green Mandalorian armor held sway over a crowd consisting of a short, crimson-skinned Twi'lek, an Aqualish wearing a blue sweater vest, a drunk Jawa, and a leather-clad Mon Calamari who had probably been looking for the fetish club down the street before inadvertently stumbling inside Wahaer's.
Jyn thought the Mandalorian – if he was in fact a Mandalorian – was incredibly obnoxious. She wanted him to stop talking, but that seemed unlikely, particularly as long as his audience continued to find him entertaining.
Someone approached the empty seat beside Jyn, and she turned slightly to see who. It was a man, of course, and a human one at that. He was tall with dark hair and he wore a black vest. Jyn immediately concluded the man had roguish good looks . . . even if he was a little scruffy looking.
"That seat is saved," said Jyn.
"It doesn't look saved. Who's it saved for?"
"Someone else."
The man sat down anyway.
Jyn turned her attention back to her drink, a barely alcoholic concoction she'd been nursing for the last ten minutes or so while she waited for her food to show up.
". . . and that is how I killed Han Solo," the loud young Mandalorian at the end of the bar said, placing his helmet on the bar as the group gathered around him erupted in cheers and laughter.
The man sitting beside Jyn turned to her and grinned. "That's a great story, but there's one problem with it," he said, nodding in the direction of the Mandalorian and his acolytes.
"What's that?" asked the woman.
"I'm Han Solo."
"Well congratulations, Mr. Solo. You appear very much alive to me," Jyn said without smiling or even changing the tone of her voice, which could only be described as bored.
"You don't have to believe me, but you certainly shouldn't believe him."
Jyn's food arrived. She didn't care one way or another which one of them was telling the truth or which one was lying. Right now she just wanted to eat. Let them fight it out to see who was right and who was dead. It made no difference to her.
"You've never heard of me have you?"
"Han Solo?"
"Yeah. Han Solo. Made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs."
Jyn shook her head. "Sorry. You must not be as famous as you think you are."
"Or you don't get out much," Han said, dismissing Jyn with a wave of his hand.
Jyn wanted to tell Han that despite her age she had seen things no one should ever have to see, but what did she know? Maybe his life was an endless tragedy and his smile was simply his way of masking that. Who was she to presume anything? The galaxy was a cruel place. The innocent and naïve rarely found themselves inside establishments like this bar. It was, in many ways, a hive of scum and villainy. The fact that he was here probably meant he had seen or done things he'd regretted.
"What's your name anyway?"
Jyn tilted her head. She thought about not answering. What right did he have to her name?
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"Kestrel Dawn," said Jyn.
"Kestrel Dawn? It sounds made up. I like it."
"Thank you."
"Now we're getting to know each other a little," Han said.
"Look, Han, whatever it is you're looking for you're not going to find it with me. Besides, you're not my type."
Han clutched his heart and tried his hardest to look hurt. "And what exactly is your type?"
If she felt like being honest she would have told him that she'd never given the question much thought, she was simply trying to get rid of him. Jyn looked back at Han – or whoever he was, and she saw something heroic about him, she thought. She had no time for heroes, though. Heroes were never worth the trouble.
"For starters, my type would never be in a place like this," said Jyn.
"So he's boring."
"He's humble. And brave."
"I'm brave."
"But he would never brag about himself," said Jyn. "He wouldn't need to."
"Because he would have nothing to brag about."
Jyn looked Han directly in the eyes. "He's not you."
Han shrugged. "Fine. Go ahead and try to convince yourself of that."
Jyn returned to her food, hoping that Han would finally give up. She didn't want to hurt him. Or maybe she did, she thought. Maybe punching this guy in his grinning face would do them both some good.
"My next stop is some backwater planet called Tattoine," Han finally said, breaking the silence between them. "You ever heard of it?"
"No."
"You can come along for the ride if you'd like. You look like you can handle yourself, and I could use some help. If all goes well there would be a nice chunk of credits in it for you. "
"No thanks."
"Suit yourself, but I'm going places. Someday you'll regret not taking me up on my offer."
"We'll see."
Han stood up and smiled. Jyn thought she wouldn't have a hard time getting used to that smile. It might even haunt her dreams for a few days, but it wasn't a smile she was quite ready to blindly follow just yet. Maybe their paths would cross again someday; maybe they wouldn't.
Only time would tell.
Jyn didn't give Han another look as he got up and walked out of the bar.
