Han Solo

"You must be insane!" Qui-Gon shouted angrily at the man wearing the black vest. The Jedi sat up, disgusted. His fine robes, tunics and pants were just covered in foul smelling engine grease! He held one of his sleeves up before his blue eyes and grimaced. The stains would never come out! "One just doesn't pour grease on the floor of a spaceship corridor! It's dangerous and you could kill someone! Why, just look at my poor robes…"

"That's your problem, Old Timer. Now get out of my way." Han yanked his net back, rolled it up in a ball and shoved it under one arm. "Besides, you should watch where you're going!"

Qui-Gon's mouth dropped open. Old Timer? "I should watch where I'm going? Why don't you be more careful with your engine grease? And I'm not that old!"

Han pointed a finger at Qui-Gon. "It's your own fault for wearing those bath robes! The only old geezer around here that dresses like that is that old mummy Palpatine! You come out of Sickbay dressed like that and you'll bound to get lots of nets tossed over your head!"

"Bath robes?!" Qui-Gon cried. "These are Jedi robes!"

Mace heard the commotion out in the hallway and poked his head out. "What's going on out here?"

"This man has poured engine grease all over the floor and ruined my Jedi robes!" Qui-Gon complained to Master Windu. "He has done it on purpose!"

"Bath robes." Han stated dryly from where he stood on a clean part of the floor.

"You! Come here!" Master Windu demanded loudly to Han.

Qui-Gon twisted around until he was on his hands and knees, his face twisting in disgust. The dark brownish-black grease was even in his long brown hair. Slowly he picked one leg up until his boot was on the grease-covered floor. He tried to stand, but the boot slid out from underneath him and he fell back to the floor.

"Let me help you." Mace offered as he held out a hand to Qui-Gon. "Grab my hand and I'll pull you into the room. Maybe we can clean most of the grease off. There must be towels we could use somewhere in Sickbay."

Qui-Gon twisted around again, slipping and sliding wildly. He was getting more and more coated with the dreadful stuff. After maneuvering around, he finally got into a position where he could reach for Mace's hand. He stuck his arm upward, hoping to grasp the hand that was offered while he balanced on his knees and one hand planted on the floor. But Qui-Gon's hand slid out from underneath him and he plopped face first into the greased floor.

"This is ridiculous!" Mace pointed a finger at Han. "You're in big trouble! Just wait until I get you!"

Han leaned against the corridor wall, relaxed. "You and what army?"

"I'm Master Mace Windu, Jedi Knight and member of the Jedi Council." Mace informed him as he stretched to his full height. "And this is an outrage, an insult against the Jedi!"

"Some all powerful Jedi. Can't even pick himself up off the floor."

"Don't make me come over there. I'm warning you!" Mace eyed the distance between where he stood and the clean part of the corridor floor. He was sure he could leap it easily. Of course, he had been dead a long time. Would that affect his Jedi abilities? And what was more important, catching this scoundrel or helping Qui-Gon?

"Are you going to help me up or not?" Qui-Gon asked, annoyed at Mace. "Or am I to lay here and wallop all over the floor like a fish out of water?"

Mace knelt down and held out his hand to the other Jedi. "Now let me…"

Without waiting, Qui-Gon gripped Mace's hand and pulled. Mace lost his balance and fell to the grease-covered floor with a loud splat. He twisted around so he could face Jinn. "Now look what you've done! I said to wait until I got a grip on the doorway, but no, you had to pull me into this goop as well!"

"Well, I'm sorry if that helps any." Qui-Gon offered the other Jedi.

Mace tried to get to his feet several times but fell every time. The floor was just too slippery. Within a short time, his robes were just as grease covered as Qui-Gon's. "This is ridiculous! There must be a way out of this mess!"

"Perhaps someone will come and rescue us." Qui-Gon said hopefully. "Let us call for help."

Mace glared at Han. "You! This is your entire fault! Why are you doing this?"

"How the heck many people on this ship wear bath robes?" Han grumbled from his spot against the wall. "Well, if I wait long enough the right one will come out. And I have all day."

"HELP!" Qui-Gon called loudly. "We've fallen and we can't get up!"

Sickbay's door opened and Padme stuck her head out. Upon seeing the two Jedi covered in grease and rolling around on the floor, her brown eyes opened wide. "Oh my!"

"Don't come any closer, My Lady! It's a diabolical trap set by a mad man!" Mace warned as he struggled to get up for the tenth time unsuccessfully. 

"Hey, watch who you're calling mad!" Han complained as he shot Mace a dirty look. Then he shifted his gaze back to Padme, his face turning a bit red. It was obvious from her dress, jewelry and hair style that she was an aristocrat. In fact, she reminded him of Leia. He felt utterly stupid. "Hey, I'm sorry about this. I didn't realize there was a lady in there. I just heard that the old mummy was visiting Sickbay so I made this bobby-trap to catch him. Problem is, these two jokers ruined it. Did you want to come out?"

"How can I?" Padme replied. "The floor is all covered with grease!"

"Hey, it's me! Relax, I have a plan." Han bent down and picked up a neatly folded white bed sheet that he had borrowed from an unguarded storeroom earlier. He gripped one end and shook it out. Then giving it a good shake he flung it above the grease-covered floor. Within moments the sheet had covered both Jedi and the floor. Grinning at his own cleverness, Han ran across the sheet, stepping on the two Jedi in the process.

"Hey!" Mace yelled. "Who just stepped on me? When I get my hands on you…"

Han glanced at the moving sheet on the floor. "No wonder you people went extinct."

The smuggler moved into Sickbay. He had decided to take a more direct approach in getting Palpatine and when he saw how many robed people were milling around the room he was glad. If he weren't careful there would be a big pileup out there and he still wouldn't have the right one. He saw Vader about the same time that the pink Sith Lord saw him.

"YOU!" Vader bellowed in outrage, the Dark Side swelling within his body. "I'll kill you, Solo!"

"If I were you, Pops, I'd watch out for the grease out in the hallway." Han told Vader with a perfectly straight face, his voice serious. "Two idiots already are stuck in it. You should be glad I told you about it!"

"What did you do now, Solo?" Vader demanded, the anger growing greater.

"Me?" Han pointed a finger at his own chest, trying to look innocent. "Why do you blame everything on me? It's not MY fault if some stupid troopers leave a big bucket of grease sitting around where some person can get their hands on it! It was a good idea, really!"

"What did you DO with the grease?" Vader repeated, just barely hanging onto his temper.

"Some idiot poured grease all over the floor out in the hallway." Padme explained. "Masters Qui-Gon and Windu are trapped in it, rolling around out there. They can't seem to get up and I'm scared to go and help them. The grease looks very … dirty."

Han rolled his eyes at Padme. "Well, what did you expect, Sweetie? CLEAN grease?"

"My name is Padme Amidala Skywalker, not 'sweetie'. You can either call me Padme or My Lady or address me by my proper title of Senator." Padme informed him, hands on her hips. "And who exactly are you?"

"General Han Solo, Captain of the Millennium Falcon. She's the fastest ship in the whole galaxy." Han grinned proudly. "She can even outrun this old bucket of bolts."

"This is the Executor, the flagship of the fleet! She is NOT an old bucket of bolts!" Vader whipped out his lightsaber and instantly turned it on. "I'll KILL you for that, Solo!"

"Uh oh!" Han's eyes grew wide and he ran for the doors leading out of Sickbay. At the last moment he remembered the grease and slid to a near stop, running around the room instead.

"And I'll KILL you for turning me PINK!"

Han continued to race around the large room, Vader hot on his heels.

"Ani! Stop that before you kill someone!" Shmi yelled at her son.

"Don't worry, lady. He's just playing!" Han shouted as he ran past. "Anyway, I think he's playing!"

"And I'll KILL you for baking that CAKE!"

"Bad Padawan, you are!" Master Yoda said from his spot on the floor. "The Dark Side, it is! Close it is, coming closer! Feel it, I do. Here in this room, it is."

Han could hear the sizzling of the lightsaber's blade, the loud hum it made as he raced around the room. "Luke! Luke! Your father went crazy again! Do something!"

Luke opened his eyes. He had been daydreaming about Mara again. "Did you say something, Han?"

"I SAID YOUR FATHER WENT CRAZY AGAIN!"

"Oh. Is that all?" Luke adjusted his pillow and shifted position in bed. "Han, would you please stop playing games with Father and come meet my Grandmother?"

"Your Grandmother?" Han skidded to a halt in front of Luke's bed.

To everyone's surprise, Vader skidded to a stop as well. He slowly approached Solo, the glowing red lightsaber in his hand.

"Now, Pops, you know you can't kill me! Leia would never forgive you." Han put both of his hands up.

"What have you got to do with my daughter?" Padme asked as she stepped forward to stand next to her husband. She didn't agree that he should be killed, but the man was obviously a low-life. Who else would cover the floor with grease and disgrace two Jedi Masters? If this scoundrel knew her daughter in any way, she wanted to know about it!

"You daughter?" Han asked. Then it clicked in his head and the crooked grin spread across his face. "I'm going to be your future son-in-law!"

To be continued…