The Bad Credit
Setting: 22 ABY - Han and Chewie are captured by a pirate gang and are confronted by their mysterious leader for a mission that they may be forced to take.
Part 1
Han Solo shook his head after the dark cloth was removed from his head. The guard was a Weequay, which was a common species to work for various pirate gangs. Han silently cursed. There was a time long ago when he could identify specific pirate gangs just by noting the ratty clothing they wore. It wasn't as clean cut these days. He looked down at the high tech binders around his wrists. He could hear his co-pilot behind him sleeping, which was evidence that their captors didn't attempt to bind a Wookie. The fact that Chewie was sleeping told Han that he may have been drugged.
Han sighed. Captured by insignificant pirates. Both he and Chewie were better than this. Or they used to be. Han had a lot on his mind lately. His twins were just beginning their journey to become Jedi at Luke's Academy on Yavin 4. Leia had just told him that they were now expecting a third child. That didn't excuse the fact that this pirate outfit managed to track them and capture them. One thing was for sure. He would never hear the end of this from his wife.
While the Weequay stood guard at the exit door, Han looked around at his surroundings. He noticed the usual desk of an office, but he also noticed artifacts of various kinds. Was it an office or a museum? Either way, it belonged to the leader of this pirate gang. But which one? And why did they capture Chewie and himself?
Too many questions.
He could hear muffled whines behind him. "Chewie? You all right, big guy?"
Chewie let out a series of low grunts in Shyriiwook.
"Drugged? I knew it. They got me in some fancy binders."
Chewie barked a question.
"Of course, you were drugged. No one wants to try to put binders on a Wookie. I was knocked out, but it was from the end of a blaster. They covered my head anyway. Guess they figured I'd know where we are."
Chewie whined.
"No, I don't. I'm working on it. All I figured out is that this is an office of the big wig of a pirate gang."
Chewie grunted.
"I don't know. Maybe Cavilhu. But that doesn't make sense. With the death of Zothip I can't see them interfering with the New Republic. That ambush with the fake Thrawn and Disra really did them in."
The Weequay suddenly barked something in his language at them.
"Sorry, buddy, we don't speak Idiot."
The Weequay shouted again but raised his blaster at them this time.
Han said back to Chewie, "Apparently, that was some sort of threat." Chewie shrugged. Han turned back to the guard. "Bit of advice, buddy, stick to guarding silently. You're no good at giving threats."
The door suddenly slid open and in walked a towering figure. It wore a dark, thin robe that stuck to its body. Ease of movement for fighting. It's armor was gold with black trim. Yet the primary feature was a metal helmet that was also gold in color. The grid around the mouth was angular, reminding Han of another familiar mask in his wife's family, though not nearly as profound. The eyes were deep set and blackened. The look was meant to intimidate. Han Solo was immune to intimidation.
Chewie whined a question. "We have a new guest," Han replied.
The figure came in to stand in front of Han. "Welcome to my office," it said through a vocoder, making its voice deep and mechanical. "I trust we made you comfortable."
"Oh, sure. These powerful binders are the same kind I use to relax at night. And Chewie here loves to be drugged to go to sleep. He's not angry at all."
Chewie let out a furious yell.
"See? Perfectly calm. Now, who are you and why are we here?"
Chewie grunted.
"Oh, yes, and what have you done with the Falcon?"
"Your ship is safe and in our hangar. As to my identity, I'm sure you've heard the name, Cordon Dayne."
Han thought a moment and his memory found the name. "Yeah, I've heard of you. You were a glorified killer with whichever crime syndicate or pirate gang paid you the most over the years."
"Correct. And for your final question, you both are here because I have a mission for you."
"A mission," Han almost choked. "Look, pal, in case you haven't followed my history lately, I don't do missions for freelance hacks anymore."
"Oh, I know your history, Han Solo. Maybe better than you know it yourself. You could say I have been following your career over the years."
"Great. I can add you to my collection of stalkers."
"Cut the charm, Solo. It won't work with me anymore."
Han noted the last word with curiosity. "Who are you?"
"You know who I am."
"Well, not really. I only said I heard of you. We never met."
"You never met Cordon Dayne."
Han paused in confusion. "Yeah. Right. That's you."
Dayne ignored Han and began to walk around the room. "The mission I have for you both involves the death of a pirate leader."
"Hey, I never kill anyone," Han retorted. "Not on purpose, anyway."
"I happen to know that is not true. You used to kill when you needed to. Whenever you felt betrayed, or thought you were about to be."
"I'm not that guy anymore."
"Of course not. You have a wife and children now, with another baby on the way."
Han looked stunned. "How did you know that? We haven't released information about the new baby to the public yet."
"I'm formidable in many skills. Gathering secret Intel is just one of them. And I'm not part of the public."
Chewie began a series of whines and grunts.
Dayne said, "Finally, someone who doesn't beat around the bush. Your co-pilot wants to know more about the mission."
"You speak Shyriiwook."
"Understand, yes. Speak, never. Don't worry. You won't be killing anyone. I'll do that. You two will be the distraction."
"And what's in it for us?"
Dayne seemed to laugh under his mask. "Proof that we have the legitimate Han Solo. I offer you and the New Republic credits. Tons of them. Something you both could use these days."
"And if we refuse?"
"Then you'll be signing both of your death warrants."
"So, you're bribing a member of the New Republic. Not to mention the Chief Of State's husband."
"It's not a bribe. It's a promise. One that I should have kept years ago."
Han squinted his eyes and asked again with more emphasis, "Who are you?"
"A bad credit. I always turn up."
In a blur of motion, Dayne reached on his waist to reveal a long vibroblade, which he turned and threw at the Weequay. It dug deep into its abdomen and the alien squealed. It tried to sway forward toward its attacker, but it didn't have time. The Weequay soon collapsed to the floor and ceased to move anymore. Dead.
Han stared at the dead guard and then at Dayne. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I knew you couldn't."
Chewie barked.
"He killed the guard. Threw a knife right through its abdomen. Right where its heart is. It takes an assassin to know what part of an anatomy can kill instantly. You killed your own guard. Now I'm really confused."
Dayne replied, "He would have jeopardized the mission. I suspect you are confused. It's time to let you off the hook. You see, Han, I'm not entirely who you think I am. You keep asking who I am. But you know me, Han. You know me."
Dayne stood in front of Han and proceeded to take off the mask. Upon removal, Han could clearly see that Cordon Dayne was not a man, but a woman. She flopped her head around to loosen her short dark and grey-speckled hair. Once she faced him again, Han felt the spark of remembrance. She looked no different, apart from the grey hair and some added wrinkles in her face. His memory banks worked overtime on when he physically saw her the last time. So long ago.
"Hello, Qi'ra."
"Hello Han. It's been a long time."
tbc