Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Disney.
Chapter Three: Passage Obtained
Luke had never actually been in a cantina before. His friends had gone, but his uncle and aunt…well, they had kept close enough tabs on him that he had never ventured farther than was needed to pick up supplies for the farm. The place was dark and noisy, filled with haze (which had a suspicious odor to it). When the local music was placed over top of it, it was a downright sensory overload.
Ben immediately walked up to the bar as though he belonged there. It was vaguely comical, eccentric old Ben with his little cloak and hood and his graying beard walking right up to a two meter Wookie.
The humorous image broke through Luke's haze of grief, mocking it. Actually, it wasn't really grief, since Luke was still in such a state of shock he didn't really even have the urge to cry. Uncle Owen—how disgusted with himself he was now for complaining as much as he had. And Aunt Beru—a thousand images of being tucked into bed, sitting on the floor playing with his model TIE while the smells of her cooking filled their small hut—Luke crushed the thoughts. Better to focus on something else.
That something else presented itself petty quickly, as it turned out. "Hey! We don't serve their kind here," the bartender growled, pointing a pudgy finger at 3PO.
"What?" Luke asked stupidly, still trying to pull himself out of his reverie.
"Your droids. They'll have to wait outside, we don't want them here." The din in the cantina grew louder as other patrons noticed the commotion.
Luke turned to 3PO and muttered, "Why don't you wait out by the speeder, we don't want any trouble."
"I heartily agree with you, sir," 3PO intoned, and walked towards the exit.
Luke sidled up to the bar. He had the vague feeling that he had no idea what the hell he was doing here. Awkwardly, he pulled on the bartender's sleeve. "Uh…can I have one of those?" he asked, hitching his chin in the direction of the drink the bartender was currently fixing. He really had no idea what it was, but it at least looked like it could be digested with minimal difficulty. The bartender complied, and handed him his order with a faint smirk.
Luke sighed and began to people-watch. After several moments of this, he realized just why his aunt and uncle had never let him near the cantina.
His people-watching session was abruptly ended when a rather disgusting looking humanoid with the strangest double chin Luke had ever seen clapped him on the shoulder and began speaking in a less-than-pleased tone to him in something that was most definitely neither Tatooan nor Basic. Luke shrugged him off and tried to turn back to his drink, but the alien would not desist.
What seemed to be a human (although he had obviously been in one too many bar fights—the scars surrounding his left eye attested to that) butt into the conversation, and explained, "He doesn't like you."
"Sorry," Luke said, annoyed. Gods. He turned back to his drink once more, when the man pulled him towards him again.
"I don't like you either. You just watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have the death sentence on twelve systems."
"I'll be careful," Luke said exasperatedly.
The man grabbed him roughly. "You'll be dead!"
What in the eight hells of Mustafar was this guy's problem? But Luke never got the answer to that question, because Obi-Wan's soft voice cut in. "This little one's not worth the effort. Now let me get you something."
Apparently that was not enough for the man, because he shoved Luke back across the room and into a table. Luke sat there dumbfounded for a moment, then looked up again when a howl of pain rent the air. He was just in time to see Ben deactivate his light saber. The brawler lay on the ground. It took a while for Luke to notice that his arm was no longer connected to the rest of his body. Luke slowly raised himself. A few seconds later he realized he was staring open-mouthed at his old neighbor. He shut his mouth as Ben approached him.
"This is Chewbacca. He's first mate on a ship that might suit our needs," he said, gesturing to a very tall, furry humanoid. Luke fished through his memory to draw up a name for the species and failed.
A few minutes later they were at one of the tables, seated across from Chewbacca and roguish man who looked to be in his thirties.
"Ben Kenobi," Ben said, nodding respectfully to the man.
"Han Solo," the other replied in an annoyingly cock-sure tone. "I'm captain of the Millenium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."
"Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship."
"Fast ship?" Solo scoffed indignantly. "You've never heard of the Millenium Falcon?"
"Should I have?" Ben replied coolly.
"It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!"
Ben cocked an eyebrow, and it took Luke an embarrassingly long time to realize that statement made very little sense.
Solo looked sheepishly indignant this time. "I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you," he said, seemingly trying to save face. "I'm talking about the big Corellian ships now. She's fast enough for you, old man. What's the cargo?"
"Only passengers. Myself, the boy, two droids, and no questions asked." Luke bristled a bit at "the boy", but didn't say anything.
"What is it? Some kind of local trouble?"
"Let's just say we'd like to avoid any imperial entanglements."
"Well, that's the trick, isn't it? And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand in advance."
Alright, that was too far. This cocky son of a cow was going to swindle his poor eccentric neighbor. "Ten thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that!"
Solo smirked. "But who's gonna fly it, kid? You?"
What a…! "You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself! We don't have to sit here and listen—"
"We haven't that much with us," Ben said as if Luke hadn't even opened his mouth. "But we could pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan."
"Seventeen, huh!" Solo muttered, with the smarmy look of someone who has just cheated on a test and gotten away with it. After a few moments, he said, "Okay. You guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay ninety-four."
"Ninety-four," Ben repeated.
"Look's like someone's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork," Solo said casually.
Ben was out of his seat and headed toward the door before Luke could even figure out what Solo meant by that statement. As Luke trotted after him, feeling quite stupid, he saw storm troopers out of the corner of his eye. Oh. Luke picked up the pace and hurriedly slipped past patron towards the light of the entrance to the cantina.
Notes: Sorry for the long wait! No excuse, I just got lazy. Okay, I promise Vader and Leia will be in the next chapter. And once I get to a certain point in the plot I will divorce this story from canon pretty quickly. Thanks for the reviews, and please keep making them! They are helpful and keep me writing!