Chapter 28: Han Solo

Meanwhile down on Coruscant, Han was on the Falcon and heading for the kitchen. He needed to bake another Poisoned Cake for Emperor Palpatine. "The kitchen is this way…"

Han stopped and turned around, looking for Shmi. But instead of following him towards the kitchen, Vader's mother was just standing there near the Falcon's ramp and well, STARING. "What's the matter? I thought we were going to go bake a cake."

"This place is … I mean …" Shmi stuttered, unsure how to say what she really meant.

"Oh!" A broad crooked grin spread across Han's face. "You mean it's a bit messy. Yeah, your son said the same thing. I told him if he didn't LIKE it that he should CLEAN it but since he DIDN'T clean it I guessed he LIKED it after all! Now that we got that settled, let's go make that cake."

"I used to clean Watto's house." Shmi commented, thinking that even the Toydarian's place had NEVER looked like this. No, this place was in a dump all of its own. Maybe it was a dump…

"Come on!" Han waved, and then disappeared through a doorway.

Cautiously, Shmi made her way onto the Falcon. The ship would look a lot nicer and bigger if it was cleaned, that was for sure. Tools were scattered all over the floor, pieces of clothing hung on various pieces of furniture and what in all the sands of Tatooine was that SMELL? It reminded her of something that had died and baked in the heat of the suns for several days. Phew! And her granddaughter was thinking of marrying this guy? Stepping over some odd-looking tool, Shmi discovered a pale pink liquid dripping from underneath a closed door. "There's something leaking over here! You better come and look at it."

Han reappeared, an apron with a zillion stains on it tied around his waist. "I was afraid of that. That's my cargo. It melted!"

"Your cargo?" Shmi asked.

"Yeah. I had a contract to carry some ice cream to a planet but my freezer broke…" Han stared down at the pink mess dripping from under the cargo bay door. No doubt by now it ALL had melted. In fact, the entire room was probably filled to the ceiling with melted ice cream. "Dang freezer! Lando guaranteed me it'll be good for three years … at least! And look at this mess I got now. Guess I'll have to dump the entire load. Nothing else to do."

"But won't you loose money?"

"Yeah, well, this isn't the first time I lost cargo. Won't be the last, either." Han headed towards the ramp that led outside, then turned back to Shmi. "Make yourself at home. And whatever you do, DON'T open that door! I'll have to go drain it from outside…"

Han ducked outside and went around to the other side of the ship. Now where was that little outside drain he had installed a couple of years ago? Spotting it, Han laughed. It would be a cinch to drain the cargo bay this way. Reaching upward, the smuggler twisted the control cover and with a loud click it popped open. Almost instantly melted ice cream started to gush out and Han quickly jumped backward. The stuff was, he had to admit, spoiled. A nasty sour smell began to fill the air as the odd pinkish-purple liquid started to cover the landing platform that the Falcon rested on. As it inched towards his boots Han backed away. "Gee, I hope it doesn't go flood Vader's castle. He'll kill me for sure if it did that."

Han stood there for a few moments, thinking. "Nah! He won't kill me once he realizes I rescued his mother from the Brain-Eating Aliens, otherwise known as Stormtroopers. He'll be pleased!"

Satisfied, Han strolled back up the ramp into the Falcon. "It'll take several hours to drain, if not longer. I had the freezer packed from wall to wall, solid with boxes of ice cream."

Shmi held a few socks in her hands, a pile of assorted clothes near her on the floor. "Do you have a dog or something?"

"No, just Chewie. He's my Wookie copilot. He sheds a bit…" Han explained as he once again headed towards the kitchen. "Did you ever bake a cake before? Mine comes inside a box. Now where did I put it? Oh, that's right. I propped it under the table leg because Luke had an accident during lightsaber practice. Hmmmm… should I tell old Helmet Head about that and tip him off to go buy lots of cake mixes?"

Shmi kneeled on the floor and reached under the sofa. Feeling something, she pulled it out and almost shrieked in fright. At one time it had been a plate, anyway, she was pretty sure it had been a plate. Now it was the home to some noxious green gunk that had black spots on it. A disgusted look on her face, Shmi carefully picked the nasty thing up with only two fingers and promptly tossed it outside the ship. Bleeh!

Inside the kitchen, Han was ready to make his cake batter. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm ready. I have a bowl and a spoon and the box. Yep, that must mean I'm ready."

Picking up the box, Han began to read the ingredient list and realized he needed eggs. "Uh oh! I forgot to go buy the eggs. I better go get some."

Setting the box back onto the table, Han once again left the kitchen. Seeing Shmi gathering up yet more dirty laundry, he waved a hand at her. "I'll be right back. I got to go get some eggs for the cake!"

"All right," Shmi replied as she pulled a shirt off a wire dangling from the ceiling. "I'll help you bake it when you get back."

Smiling, Han hurried down the ramp only to find a lake of melted ice cream. To his delight, he saw it was draining off the edge of the landing platform. "Great! Now I don't have to worry about it flooding Vader's house!"

CRASH! BANG! CRASH!

At the loud crunch of metal and loud shrieking, Shmi came running to the open door. "What's going on?"

"Ah, just some idiot driver caused an airspeeder accident!" Han explained as he stepped into Ice Cream Lake and wondered to the edge to have a look. Yep, just as he suspected! A big pile-up of airspeeders and various vehicles, some of them with an unusual wet, glistening look to them. In fact, the colors of those vehicles looked suspiciously like his pinkish-purple ice cream. Nah! He was sure it was just a coincidence! Who would want their airspeeder the color of spoiled ice cream?

Far below Han, the waterfall of sour dairy product was splashing from one landing platform to another. It coated people's airspeeders, ran inside of buildings, caused major pile-ups and best of all, dripped onto shocked people's heads. Fights broke out, animals flocked to lap at the free bounty, insects buzzed their delight, swarms formed, people screamed in terror. Han had really created a major disaster!

Shrugging his shoulder, Han was about to turn around when he spotted something that looked like eggs. Yes, they WERE eggs! Laughing at his good fortune, the smuggler quickly hurried over to the odd nest that rested in the far corner of the landing platform. Reaching in, Han plucked two of the giant eggs from the bits of assorted junk that formed the nest. So what if these eggs had weird spots on them or that the base color was black instead of white? The important thing was that they were EGGS. Clutching them to his chest, Han hurried up the ramp of the Falcon. "I'm back and I got us the eggs!"

"So soon? Is there a market nearby?" Shmi asked, then her eyes widened at the oddly colored eggs. "What kind of eggs are those?"

"Who cares? They're eggs and they were free. There's a nest of them out there…" Han hurried towards the kitchen.

"But you can't cook strange eggs! Why, how do you know they're any good to eat?" Shmi exclaimed, worried. It was a miracle Han had survived as long as he did living this way and now cooking odd eggs! "You could poison yourself!"

"Now listen here, Sister. That's the idea!" Han grinned as he imagined Palpatine dropping dead. The War would be over and the Rebels would have won! If only other people wouldn't keep getting in the way!

Shmi gasped, a hand flying to her open mouth. "You want to kill yourself?"

"NO! Not me, Palpatine!" Han exclaimed, annoyed. He shook a finger at her. "And don't tell me not to try it, either!"

"That nice old man wants to kill himself? Why?" Shmi asked, confused. "Shouldn't you talk him out of it?"

"NO! He doesn't want to kill himself! I'm trying to kill him!" Han explained as he set his eggs on the floor, and then glanced around for the box of cake mix he had left on the table. It was gone. "Where did the box go? I thought I left it here…"

Shmi bent down and picked the boxed mix off the floor, handing it to Han. "Why would you want to do something awful like kill someone? That's terrible!"

Han rolled his eyes. "I killed lots of people. Take Greedo for example. Blasted him one in the Mos Eisley cantina. Didn't bother me at all. Guy had it coming. Now are you going to help me bake this cake or not? Trust me, Palpatine is responsible for many, many horrible atrocities in this galaxy and deserves to die. He's a Sith, you know…"

"What are you going to put in it?" Shmi asked, not really sure if she wanted to be involved in this murder plot, if that's what it really was.

"The usual." Han replied. "Alcohol, caffeine, a few special ingredients…"

"Not anything poisonous?" Shmi asked feeling a bit relieved that so far the ingredients seemed odd but edible.

Han frowned. "I don't have any!"

Setting the mixing bowl on the table, Han cracked open one of the odd eggs and poured it into the bowl. Smiling because his baking was off to a good start, Han picked up the box to see what else he needed to do when he heard a loud crash.

The bowl with egg had slid down the uneven tabletop and crashed onto the floor!

"Drat!" Han swore as he stared at the mess it had created, runny egg all over his kitchen floor. "Oh well, I'll just scoop it up."

Shmi gasped, horrified. "You're not going to USE that egg after it was on the floor?!"

"Hey!" Han gave her one of his looks. "There's nothing wrong with that egg! It's still a perfectly good egg!"

Vader's mother turned a slight greenish color.

Just like he said, Han scooped the egg up into another bowl only to discover lots of Wookie fur sticking all over it. Shrugging, Han started to whistle a song from the Max Rebo Band. The cake was for Palpatine anyway. What's a bit of Wookie fur for a Sith Lord anyway? Placing that bowl onto the counter, Han started on the other ingredients. He had two bottles of alcohol and he used the gizmo to collect the caffeine from Coke….what was he missing? "Oh! I need a few crunchy bugs!"

"EEEWWWW!" Shmi said, disgust clear on her face. "You can bake that cake by yourself! It sounds horrible."

Han watched her hurry into the other room, and then shrugged his shoulders. He wanted to get all the credit for killing Palpatine anyway. A few moments later Han followed her into the main room and looked under the sofa. "Hey! What happened to my sandwich? I had it under here for safe keeping."

"You mean that ghastly green thing glued onto a plate?"

"Yeah…"

"I threw it out!" Shmi informed Captain Solo. "It stunk worst than a bantha's poodoo!"

"I was saving that sandwich for an emergency!" Han said angrily. "I had it for six months under there safe and sound! How could you just throw it out?"

"It was spoiled and had stuff growing on it."

"There was nothing wrong with that sandwich! It was a perfectly good sandwich! So if it was a tad green?" Han straightened and got to his feet, rubbing his chin in thought. "Since I can't stick the sandwich in the cake, what else could I put in there? Hmm, I need something."

"Plus it had black spots on the green stuff!" Shmi said, expecting that it should explain it all.

"SO? The black spots meant it was just starting to get really good!"

"You are impossible! It's a miracle you're still alive eating stuff like that!"

"Well, I don't eat it! I told you, it's for Palpatine!" Han hurried outside and collected a cup of the spoiled ice cream. Coming back in, he shoved the cup towards her, a satisfied grin on his face. "Look! Crunchy flying things!"

"Eeewwww! Get those wasps out of here before they sting someone!" Shmi was beginning to wish she had stayed on Ani's big ship even if it meant seeing some Undead Creature. She was beginning to see why her son didn't like this fellow. She watched as Han ran into the kitchen with his prize find and started singing an off-key version of Lopti Nek, half of the Huttesse words gargled and mispronounced. Then the oven must have been turned on because an awful stench started to fill the Falcon and Shmi was forced to flee onto the outside ramp for fresh air. Except there was no fresh air, only the sour stink of spoiled ice cream and a couple trillion flying bugs of every variety. Still, the stink out here was better than Solo's baking.

Han approached her some time later, a white cardboard box in his hands. "Look! My cake is all done! Isn't it great?"

Shmi had no idea what to say, so she just nodded her agreement.

To be continued…