Chapter One

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

Inside a battered starship, a prone figure materializes half-way down a corridor. She was dressed only in silky pajamas, and her chin-length hair draped over her face like a blonde veil. A trickle of blood ran down her left temple.

My name is Suki Ragetti, and this is my story.

It all started when I was watching Star Wars: A New Hope with my brother, Greg. Neither of us were obsessed with Star Wars, or anything like that, but we do know all the characters and like to watch it every now and then.

We had just gotten past the "Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." bit. I was expecting the next words to be "The galaxy is in turmoil", but instead, this message popped up on the screen, scrolling up like the original opening:

"Welcome, brave revolutionary!

A galaxy long, long ago and far, far away is in turmoil, and this is your chance to get in on the action!

Prepare for adventure and danger as you battle to survive in the Star Wars Universe!"

"Sheesh! What is this a commercial?" Greg piped up. "Suki, are you sure this is the right disc?"

"I'm not sure." I said. Getting up, I went to take the DVD back out so that I could check the title, but the moment I touched it, my entire body was wracked with blue lightning bolts like those used by Emperor Palpatine.

The last thing I heard before I succumbed to the blackness was Greg screaming my name.

I awoke to something prodding my shoulder.

"Mmm. Greg, wake up Mom if you want breakfast." I mumbled, brushing away whatever was poking me.

"I'm not Greg, Kid." A slightly familiar-sounding voice said. It wasn't Greg's voice.

I opened my eyes to see a pair of black boots. My gaze traveled upwards, past dark blue pants with a red stripe down the leg, lingering a second on a pair of white-sleeved arms crossed over a black vest, and finally landing on the ruggedly handsome face of...

"Harrison Ford?" I breathed. That wasn't right, I knew. This guy looked thirty at the oldest, while Harrison Ford was currently old enough to have gray hair.

"Harrison Ford?" The man repeated, and gave me a charming half-grin. In that instant, I knew exactly who he was. "The name's Han Solo." He knelt down next to where I was still sprawled on the floor. "I don't take kindly to stow-aways. But, since your clothes are so strange, and the fact that you were passed out in the corridor, I figured that I'd at least hear you out before chucking you out the nearest airlock."

I gulped, only now realizing that I was lying in a long, metal hall which I took to be one of the Millennium Falcon's corridors.

"I... don't really remember." I told him. "The last thing I remember is walking down the street and getting clobbered."

What? You didn't really expect me to tell him the truth, did you? Oh yeah, 'I was sitting in my living room and my television ate me.' That would go over well.

Fortunately, Han seemed to buy it. Reaching out, he touched a trickle of blood that came from my left temple. "Looks like they got you pretty good." He said. "Wonder why they dumped you here though."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I can take you as far as my next stop. Come on, we'd better take care of that head wound before it becomes infected."

Han helped me to my feet and led me down a bunch of different corridors until we reached the room where the game table was. Seating me at the table, he pulled out a green and white metal box with a red symbol on the top. I think it was called a medkit.

Taking out the appropriate equipment, he began to attend to my head. At least, I hope it was the appropriate equipment, since I had no idea what any of it was.

"Thanks." I muttered, touching my head tentatively. "My name is Suki Ragetti, by the way. You know, in case you were wondering."

Han gave me another of his half-grins and I had to fight back a fan-girl squeal. He had always been my favorite character in the Original Trilogy. "Kid, if I wanted to know your name, I would have asked." He said, in the way of someone who doesn't want to get close to the one they're about to dump.

He frowned at me when I ducked my head and muttered a timid "Of course." The last thing I want is for him to change his mind and chuck me out the airlock after all.

"Would you stop that. I've used up expensive medical equipment to keep you alive; I'm not gonna turn around and kill you." He said. "So what planet are from?" He added curiously. "I've never seen clothes like those before."

I looked down at my pink, silky pajamas and blushed. "Yes, well..." I tried to think up a good excuse. I had already told him that I had been kidnapped while walking down the street, so I couldn't admit that these were my sleeping clothes. "My father is a pilot-for-hire. We tended to wear whatever was comfortable."

Han nodded sagely. "Seems odd for someone to kidnap a pilot's daughter. Which planet were you taken from?" The question caught me off guard, but before I was forced to answer, the ship shook and a howl rent the air.

"Calm down, Chewie!" Han shouted. "I'll be right there! Imperial TIE Fighters." That last bit was directed at me. "Just sit tight." He helped me strap in, then ran out of the room.

I clutched the table as the ship shuddered again. How the heck did I end up on board the Millennium Falcon, in the Star Wars Universe, getting medical care from Han Solo and waiting out an attack by a bunch of TIE fighters? By that last one, I would guess that the Death Star hasn't been destroyed yet. And Han had said that he would drop me off at his next stop, so he must still be a smuggler.

I might be in trouble.