"Wake up, Solo!" a low voice ordered him, although not unkindly. Han tried to ignore it, something telling him that he'd be better off if he stayed asleep, but the voice persisted and Han reluctantly pulled himself out of unconscious sleep and into the waking world, only to be greeted by a soreness that seemed to spread over his whole body and an unfamiliar face before his eyes.

Han tried to speak, but found his mouth too dry to make the words. Becoming more aware of his surroundings he realised he was lying in the slaves' quarters again, this time with his hands chained roughly above his head and attached to a metal hook in the wall. He groaned out loud. "Whaddaya want?" Despite the results, he was feeling a lot more confident after his near escape from the palace.

"I have orders from Jabba to wake you and get you dressed."

"For Keth's sake," Han cursed, "I am dressed."

"Jabba's having a party and he wants to show all of Tatooine his new prize."

That at least got Han's attention, his eyes snapped back open and he struggled to sit up, managing an uncomfortable half sitting, half lying down, with the chains not letting him up any further. He winced as he strained the long claw cuts in his chest and his head throbbed with a mixture of tiredness and bruises from the beating that pink lizard had given him.

"Well, he's going to be disappointed then."

The small alien visibly quivered. "Solo, please do as he says or it will get worse, I'm telling you."

"Hurry up!"

Han started at the sound of another voice coming from out of his line of vision. Well, it did stand to reason that such a small, feeble-looking creature, probably a slave himself, could not be trusted to bring the notorious Han Solo to Jabba without incident. Must have more guards with him.

"Yeah, well I don't plan on being here long enough to find out."

"At least let me dress you?" he asked, his eyes widening in fear again for the foolish human's safety and also for his own.

"Come on kid, I can dress myself."

The young slave shook his head. "I am sorry - you have to remain chained." Han sighed and gestured with his head for him to do what he had to - he didn't mind getting himself into trouble, far from it, but he didn't want anyone else to unduly face Jabba's cruel wrath. Solo winced as the boy gently pulled the shreds of shirt from him, they were stuck to his cuts with blood that had already dried in the past couple of hours. The wounds were cleaned up quickly and Han was glad, he didn't need an infection on top of everyone else.

His left arms were un-cuffed and a sleeveless white tunic slipped on before he was chained again, then his other arm freed to put the rest of the jacket on. Han didn't recognise the tunic particularly, but he could easily deduce that it was one of the outfits Jabba reserved for his humanoid slaves. There were a few leather loops attached to it and a metal one at the front, obviously their purpose was for easy attachment of ropes or chains. Han's expression hardened.

The boy then pulled off Han's trousers and replaced them with a smarter pair, and a stun cuff around each ankle. "These will give you a shock if you move too fast."

"Yeah, I know." Han frowned, thinking only of how he could get around all this precaution of Jabba's and make another escape attempt, this time a more covert one. Would they remove the stun cuffs at night? Would they chain him again to the wall? Questions swam around Han's head and he began to realise that he was in even more trouble than he had previously anticipated.

Lastly, the slave pulled out a leather collar with a small metal hook on either side and Han suppressed a cry. He really was going to be put on display if he didn't do something and do it fast. He grimaced as he recalled the times he had come to see Jabba regarding his smuggling for him and had seen his slaves then, mostly slim humanoid girls chained at their necks who Jabba would pull towards himself at intervals, cackling with glee at their disgust. He never remembered seeing any men.

The collar was attached to his neck with a depressing click locking it in place. Han rubbed at it irritably. At a call from the boy, the guards came over and unattached the chains from the wall so that they were guarding one of Han's arms each. Solo pulled himself to his feet quickly before he could be dragged and his aches and pains further aggravated. "Where are we going?"

"It's party time, Solo."

"Oh." Han replied, sounding particularly unimpressed and unbothered to hide his apprehension. "Great." There was nothing he could do as the two strong Wookie-like sentients guided him at a walking pace so as not to aggravate the stun cuffs around his ankles, his arms restricted by the chains that they firmly held on to.

As they came closer to Jabba's party, the noise of a Tatooine's current popular bar music filtered loudly through the doors. Memories flooded back to Han of his not too distant smuggling days, the seedy bars and seedy company of many alien and human races. He had never been fond of Jabba's constant parties, the music was bad and his blatant disregard for the slaves he kept and even the hired work was disgusting. Well, that was him now. Han shuddered as a sudden wave of panic sent chills down his spine. He could feel sweat trailing down his back, cold. He kept control of his body, knowing he had to bide his time, that he couldn't escape now and a beating would only hinder him later, but it was difficult even for him to fight the fear-filled urge to turn and run.

The doors opened, the music got louder. Han un-tensed slightly with relief as no one turned to look as he entered, he had imagined a sea of enemy faces laughing at the now helpless Han Solo, chained and collared as Jabba the Hutt's slave. It was then he heard a familiar voice roar out his name. Chewie. Han turned in simultaneous excitement and fear to find his friend, hoping he hadn't been treated too badly.

The Wookie was flanked by several of Jabba's largest guards, and chained to the wall securely enough to withhold even his awesome strength. Han was angry immediately that Jabba had chained his copilot, but couldn't help feeling hope that now they were together they would get out of this alive. He hadn't realised how alone he had felt up until that moment.

"Hey pal, come to join the party?" Han joked as he was led to stand before Jabba. Chewie, who stood next to the Hutt along with his guards, chided Solo for his lightheartedness, feeling the matter was more serious. However, he could see in his friend's eyes that Han knew this as well and was just too proud to show it in front of their captor. He looked on worriedly at the human, he could tell by the bruises on his face that he had not been treated too well and he growled softly.

"Solo!" Jabba greeted, "I hope you will not pass out again and ruin the fun."

"I wouldn't miss it," Han deadpanned.

Without warning, Jabba poked Chewbacca with a blue rod which buzzed on contact, causing the Wookie to flinch in pain and angrily roar his protests.

"I see you haven't become any less cowardly these past couple of years, Jabba," Han said in disgust.

Jabba laughed, not having the slightest bit of regard for the bravery that so many other species did. "You'll be servicing my guests tonight, Solo. I killed my serving girl last night."

"In your dreams, Jabba," Han protested with a sinking feeling. Half the scum in Tatooine knew him, and half of them were probably here, ready to enjoy seeing him at the Hutt's mercy and tell the tale tomorrow night in a bar to another group of scumbags who'd get some amusement out of it in turn, they'd probably be fighting to come to one of Jabba's parties. He wasn't about to become the local tourist attraction.

Jabba laughed out loud and the guards standing around Chewbacca began to punch and kick him, one hitting him over the head several times with the butt of a blaster. Chewie roared, straining against his chains and managed to push one of the attackers a short way away in his rage but with little consequence. Han couldn't help but pull against his own chains, his natural instinct insisting that he go to his best friend's aid, but his guards yanked him firmly back into place. "If I..." Han stopped midway through his threat, knowing it would have no heed and watched helplessly as his friend was beaten.

"Every time you disobey me they'll continue until he dies" Jabba told Han as the guards stopped, and Chewie sagged moaning against his chains, thick red blood matting the fur on his forehead.

"Then you won't have anything to threaten me with Jabba," Han said, desperately hoping to keep his Wookie friend alive.

"There are other ways to amuse myself with you Solo, the Wookie is expendable."

Han hung his head for a moment, thinking fast. There was no way he could endure Chewbacca being beaten to death no matter what the cost to his pride, he would never let it happen to Han, Han would do the same for him. Han didn't like to admit it even to himself but Jabba had him well and truly trapped.

Jabba recognised Solo's defeat and chuckled hideously, "You are foolish in your loyalty Chewbacca and Han Solo, but it at least has its uses."

Without the need for prompting, the guards picked up a long leather rope from the ground and tied it securely to the collar around Han's neck. Han noticed miserably that the other end of the rope was in Jabba's small-but-strong Hutt arms, just as his slave girls' had been when Han had attended these parties. He felt a sudden stab of guilt but brushed it away. If he had tried to help them it would have only got him in this situation sooner. For the same reason no one was likely to help him and Chewie.

The chains holding his cuffs together were removed, allowing him some movement, though the heavy weight of the metal cuffs weighed down his arms and the lightweight stun cuffs round his ankles meant he could do little more than shuffle around the room or be dropped to the floor in pain. But he could feel the collar tight around his neck and the feeling of helplessness it caused in him made him feel more trapped than any physical restraints.

He was passed a tray of drinks and as he was told to offer it around politely he felt a shudder go through him, he felt awkward and miserable and if he admitted it, even scared but determined that he and Chewie would live to have these few days in the long distant past. The thought gave him strength and he walked not too quickly over to a group of sentients that he didn't recognise.

They looked up at him as he approached and he almost stopped in his tracks and went back, but instead glanced round to his semi-conscious friend to spur himself on, then continued as confidently as he could. "Do you want a drink?" he asked them, the words sounding foreign on his lips. He felt the whole room was watching him, that everyone knew it was him and he had been made a slave. Two of them grabbed glasses and turned back to their conversation without a second glance. Han stepped back away from them quickly, sighing with relief.

He glanced back at Chewie who was coming back into full consciousness and immediately wished he would stay blacked out so that he wouldn't have to see Han like this, and so that he wouldn't try to attack his guards and get himself beaten up again. Another sentient who eyed him strangely but who Han didn't recognise came over and took a drink off his tray. Han stared back at him threateningly until he looked away and left.

Han tugged nervously at the collar, wishing he could pull it off, as he eyed the crowd for another non-threatening group of sentients. He turned quickly at a whisper in his ear, "Go serve them." The guard's hand pointed and Han's eyes followed to see a human he recognised, Der'Khan. Solo tensed immediately at the sight of the man. There had been no love lost between them when they had been smuggling rivals for Jabba's most handsomely paid cargos. Han hadn't liked the guy at all and the feeling had certainly been mutual.

"No," he whispered sharply before he could stop himself. The guard signalled to Jabba and Han turned quickly to see him gleefully prod the Wookie with the electrocuting stick. Chewie roared in anger and struggled violently for a moment. Han growled softly, noticing several of the crowd looking up to see what was going on. "Okay, I'll do it." Han cursed under his breath and walked over to Der'Khan, slowly. His feet, unwilling, felt heavy.

"Would you like a drink," Han asked, then added, thick with sarcasm, "Sir." Der'Khan turned round, then his face melted into an expression of shock as he saw his old rival, his face a mask of stone. He didn't take one, but put his hands on his hips and looked the Corellian up and down, unable - or unwilling, to hide his amusement as he noticed the collar round his neck and the tray in his hands.

"Well, well Solo," he drawled with a thick off-planet accent, "Moving up in the world are we?"

"I can see your just as much the low down son of a Jawa you always were," Han growled. Der'Khan's face dropped with irritation.

"I'll have a beer, please SLAVE," he ordered.

"You'll have a cocktail. That's all we have," Han said through gritted teeth.

"Get him a beer, Solo," the guard who had ordered him over here told him, "Or your Wookie friend gets another beating." Han's expression hardened further and he shot the smuggler a dirty look as he walked over to the bar to get him a beer. He quickly pushed aside a spiteful plan to strongly spike his drink so he too would make a fool of himself, only because he worried about Chewbacca's life as a consequence if anyone realised.

He brought it back over, his heart heavy with his momentary helplessness as both Der'Khan and the guard watched him carefully. The few-second journey took way too long. He never thought he would find himself here, at the beck and call of scum like Der'Khan and Jabba the Hutt and he longed to be flying the Millennium Falcon off of this planet, arguing with his copilot and his princess.

Frowning, he pushed the glass of beer into Der'Khan's hand. The other man reached up and grabbed the collar at Han's throat with a finger to pull him closer. "Watch it Solo," he warned, "Or I may use my savings to buy you from Jabba."

Han yanked himself free of the man's grip, wishing yet again that he could remove the collar that so readily advertised and symbolised his lack of freedom and his enslavement. "You watch it Der'Khan or when we escape we'll hunt you down and kill you."