A long time ago
In a galaxy far far away…
No, no, no. I don't need the scrolling text. I appreciate the effort, but I'd rather tell my story outright. I'm Bith Solo, the suave bounty hunter of Mos Eisley. I'm not related to Han Solo, but I wish I was because he's a major hottie. My first name on the other hand isn't misleading at all. I am a bith, but don't expect me to start playing one of those space-clarinets for your enjoyment. I'm named after my species because the Mandalorians who adopted me didn't know what to name someone who didn't look like them. Or what to feed him. Or how to take care of him in general. I don't usually have to see them anymore so that's good. That's enough exposition, I want to get right into the story of one of my biggest adventures.
It was a typical night at the Mos Eisley Cantina; a group of young people were doing shots at the front of the bar and various tough guys around the room were taking shots at each other over frivolous arguments. I was sitting near the performers, a bith band of course, listening to the popular music they played. I wasn't a fan, but I was waiting. My pink cape was draped over the back of the steel chair I was sitting on and my DL-18 blaster rested firmly in its holster on my right hip. I was ready for anything but expecting nothing.
After finishing with a jazzy sort of song, all three members of the band came to take a break. It was just my luck that I was seated at the only table with three available seats.
"Hey, fellow Bith brother, why don't you grab a space-clarinet and join us for our next tune?" one said to me in the most friendly way possible.
"Thanks, but I'm not a musician and I have no intention to change that" I replied. This lead to five minutes of awkward silence before a wrinkly hand tapped me on each of my shoulders two times. This is unknown to many, but it is the universal signal when one wishes to talk to a bounty hunter in private about a mission. I stood up and turned around to see a man of unidentifiable species with a white beard that looked like a wampa hanging on his face. A group of people were with him. I assumed they were also bounty hunters, but they were the grizzled kind, not the suave kind. Guys like them are basically the reason I work alone.
We followed the bearded man to a room in the back. He shut the door behind him and before he could say anything, one of the bounty hunters, a rather large Trandoshan excitedly shouted "what's the mission?" The bearded man began to explain.
"It is for a cause that is close to my heart. Perhaps you've heard of Crad Himm?"
Everyone including myself carried a blank look.
"Or perhaps not. He is responsible for the illegal poaching of countless ewoks. It's sickening. Who of you will stop him?"
Some of the hunters laughed, others left the room immediately. I didn't. I needed this mission.
"I'll do it" I said, trying to be casual.
The remaining hunters left and I could almost make out a smile in the bearded man's fuzzy face. He told me that although it was unlikely that Crad would set up a base on Endor because that would be too obvious, but I should go there anyway for information. Endor was quite a ways away, but in the cantina, it's never too hard to find a ride.
When I was back among the crowd of the cantina, I picked up a used shot glass from the bar and clinked it with a metal spoon to get peoples' attention.
"Hello, I have a request to make. Some of you may know me. I am Bith Solo, the suave bounty hunter and I need a ride to Endor for my next mission. Any old ship will do, so long as I get there."
I sat back at my old seat to wait for someone to take me up on my offer. The wait was much shorter than expected as the leader from the bith band who was still sitting there offered to take me in their tour ship. I was reluctant to the idea, but it was a free ride and I couldn't refuse. It would also give me some exposure to my species' culture which I haven't experienced enough of. The music they play at social gatherings usually aren't real traditional bith songs.
By the next day, we were off to Endor.