Outside the Limian System, Open Space
It took him awhile, but Han finally realized what he didn't like about the ship.
Beyond the fact that it wasn't the Falcon.
No, what he didn't like about this new ship was the fact that it was so…
Quiet.
He hadn't noticed it at first, not when they actually had a crew with them to help in the job. But, hunting Rathtar's required the help of a certain type of people. The kind that didn't bother looking past the reward on the application.
Honestly, Han didn't bother remembering half of their names.
And he had lost enough friends that he didn't have much sleep left to lose.
Now that it was just him and Chewie, and the silence started to sink in, it got a lot harder to focus on the job.
Or ignore the reason he was taking it in the first place.
Sparks and smoke fills the small pilots cabin, knocking Han out of his thoughts faster than a blaster shot.
Oh what now?!
Han forced himself up from his chair, and on the way he heard something crack. Ignoring the sound, and the pain, he pulls down the metal panel. The smoothest smuggler in three system was met with the sight of a burning circuit board and compressor.
The third time this week alone.
Han grumbles something under his breath, he didn't know what he said, but it probably wasn't safe for children.
He slams the panel back up "Chewie! The circuits fried!"
A resounding roar echoed through the corridors.
"I know it's the third time!"
Another roar.
"Why do you think the payment is going to be a better ship!?"
Han tore out the smoking cricket, and the irritating humming shut itself off. The lights also flickered, but the ship was still flying so it couldn't have been to important.
He sat back down in the pilot's chair just as the cockpit door opened. A mass of fur and aged muscle walks through. The greatest partner a smuggler could have took his seat in the copilot's chair as he glanced at the destroyed circuits in Han's hand. The Wookie tilted his head, right before he opened the glove compartment and showing Han a perfectly functioning circuit board.
Han blinked, looking between the board and his friend. Chewie let out a low, soft grunt as he handed over the board. Han took it and set it to the side.
"I remembered we had that."
Chewie just rolled just eyes. Han held up a finger but just let it fall to his side, he didn't want to start arguing with Chewie of all people.
The Wookie leans forward and takes the controls away from Han. A few years ago, Han might have stopped him. Now, he sighed in relief from the fact that he could just rest for the rest of the trip.
A few minutes past, and the silence came crawling back. Chewie glanced to the side, watching his friend gingerly touch the hilt of his blaster.
He let out a small roar, making Han glance over.
"It's going to be easy Chewie, we deliver the cargo and take the ship and we'll be out of the system before they know the locks are on a timer."
The wookie grunted unsurely.
"It's nothing we haven't done a million times."
A even weaker grunt sounded out.
"What do you mean they'll be ready? When have I ever not delivered what they asked for?"
Chewie looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Beside, it's not like they want to kill us. There are still some people who don't want to shoot me you know."
Chewie looks at Han, raising a single furry eyebrow. He grunts and Han glared daggers at his friend.
"Just keep flying, I'll check on the cages." He spat out.
Chewie nodded, but kept everything else to himself as Han exited the cockpit. The doors slide open. It only took a few seconds, like they always did. But they were starting to feel a lot longer. Han took off at a brisk walking pace, the sound of his boots echoing through the hallways.
It made him walk faster, and that in turn only made the sound worse.
By the time that he got to the Rathtar cages, it felt like he had been walking for an eternity. His back was killing him, and his feet were starting to ache as well.
Ignoring both sensations, Han leaned down and opened up the floorboard, revealing the fuses. Slowly, he made his way down and sat down for no other reason to make himself more comfortable. A few years ago, he could still rest his entire body on one leg for support.
Now… he rather not try.
"Man is this how that old coot felt while we were running around a trash compactor?" Han thought.
He tentatively checked over the fuses, careful not to trip any of them and make any stupid mistake.
Like letting the Rathtar's out of their cages.
Or locking him in the room.
Honestly Han didn't know what was worse.
Well, he did, obviously, but he'd rather not stick around to admit that.
Everything seemed to be in order, so Han stretched his legs and made his way out of the underground. He barely took the time to make sure the panel was properly over the hatch before he started to head back to the cockpit.
Once again, he was left to listen to the sound of his own feet against the metal.
And once again, he wanted to hear the sound of smaller feet run across them.
The ship lurched, and Han nearly stumbled to the floor again. He heard Chewie roar, and he understood.
They were finally at the refueling station.
He turned around and headed towards the docking bay. As he walked, he made sure that he had enough credits to pay for the fuel. He found the extra money they had got for the job, counting each chip perfectly. As he did, he frowned. He checked again, same result.
Did he really have so little extra change?
Well, they didn't need to go far, so half would have to do for now.
Besides, he knew the owner, so he could at least give him a break.
He reached the bay, and Chewie lowered the doors just in time so that he didn't even need to break stride.
The door opened, revealing the landscape surrounding the ship. The port itself was just a small joint on the surface of some planet called Zakuul. Chewie guided the ship into the port like only a practiced pilot could. As such, Han had no worries that he would touch the ground smoothly. It gave him just enough time to catch the sound of a tree snapping as it attempted to stop the fall of a small spire. The forest rustled with energy that you wouldn't even know was there, the wildlife running away from the crash.
A shame too, it was a decent antique that made the descent to the port more bearable. Apparently, the spire was once part of an empire that would have given the First Order and the Republic a run for it's money.
That is, if you believed the old stories.
If you did, you would know that the rusted and broken spires in the distance were coms and watchtowers. The mossed over round structures were once temples and homes. The rivers would have to cut through streets and fallen buildings. Only the few, strong spires still remained from what Han could see. Everything else beyond that was a rolling hill of humid trees and swampy floors. But, no idiot would bother going past the environmental shields. If they did, they'd have to deal with swamp rancor and other monsters that called the supposedly ancient empire home. If he were any other man, Han would have shrugged the stories as folklore for tourists and archaeologists like everyone else.
But, he had seen that some stories weren't as crazy as he once thought.
The ship landed in the middle of a doid made clearing, utterly devoid of trees and swamp. The shields stopped any exhaust that might have hurt any of the trees. So by the time that Han could walk out and his boots could touch the ground, the engines were off and the only thing signaling the ship was even there was it's presence. Han was slightly impressed, decent shields to keep out that level of exhaust.
The port barely had a dozen ships parked in the available space. With those numbers, you could barely call it a port. More like a quick stop. It was barely big enough to have what the ship needed, and that made it perfect for what he and Chewie needed. Han didn't stop walking to admire the same faded paint that they put on the walls of every fueling station this side of the system. It looked just as rusty and broken down as the spires in the distance. The smokestack looked ready to fall over, and the door wasn't kept open with a generator, but a shoe. That was fine, in fact, it was an even better indication that this was the right place.
The one thing that did manage to catch Han's eye and keep his attention for a few moments, was the prestien First Order poster hanging along the side.
Han found himself walking a little faster after seeing that.
He made his way inside the station, ignoring the smell and the many interesting eyes that he was getting from the other residence. A few of them put their hands, or claws to their hips. Han just pulled his jacket back, showing his holster.
The appendages went back to where ever they were before Han went in.
A bulbous old jablogian eyed Han as he approached the counter. He slowly turned his massive bulbous belly around so that he could show his full massive size to Han.
"Han Solo." He said.
Han nearly stopped walking, but he didn't. He spoke with the tone of someone who knew exactly what they were dealing with.
Nevertheless, Han put on his famous smile "Azmigain, is your father in?"
"He's dealing with our more appropriate customers." The red blob drawled.
Han shook his head in feigned sadness "Then give him my love will yah? Until then, I need some fuel."
"Doesn't every smuggler?" Azmigain asked as he tapped his consol.
"Two thousand for a full job."
Han grimaced slightly "I'll take a half job then."
Azmigain nodded "Then it will be two thousand."
Han gawked "You just said a full job is two thousand!"
"This isn't for this trip, this is for paying for your ditching my father after the job on Ryloth."
Han pinched the bridge of his nose, holding back a headache "I had to get out of there, the Twi'leks would have shot our ship out of the air if we stayed."
"Which means you'll be more than happy to pay extra for this little service."
"Azmigain, I thought I was a friend of the family? You're going to make me pay two thousand while I'm on a job?"
"I'm this close to making it four thousand Solo," Azmigain growled "So pay or I'll pay someone else to take whatever your cargo is."
Han wanted to protest, but he knew the sound of a plasma blaster powering up when he heard it.
Or seven, if he needed a distinct reminder.
He stared down Azmigain, but the red blob held his own far better than he remembered his old slug doing. The kid had grown up.
Sighing, Han put down the credits, and the sound of blasters slipping back to their holsters.
"Was that so hard Solo?" Azmigain asked.
Han just rolled his eyes before storming out of the port. He all but kicked open the doors to the outside and headed back to the ship. As he got up the docking bay ramp, the port droids had already hooked up the fuel lines. He got into the ship and the doors slowly closed behind Han.
This time, the distant sounds of ships and workers echoed through the ship. It made the walk go by faster than it had in months. He got to the cockpit and took a seat next to Chewie. The wookie looked at his pockets and grunted in question.
"We're getting fuel." Han said, the slight bitterness in his tone clear for the wookie to hear.
So, Chewie didn't bother saying anything. The two waited for the fuel lines to be taken away, and the second that they did, Han took the controls. The ship existed the port a little faster than most would. He tapped the coordinates, and let the autopilot take over, pushing the speed as fast as he could.
Right now, he really wanted this job to be over.
(X)
Just something to chew on. Figured the prologue wouldn't offer much in the way of something memorable. So here is Han and Chewie screwing around before TFA.