Star Yecch! Wars Part 8

After nearly an hour of trekking through the harsh desert, the group made their way into the Baab Aganouj bar. As Ben predicted, it was teeming with all sorts of low-lifes, freaks, and transients.

BEN: Say nothing and follow my lead.

As the group followed into the dank bar, Luke drank in all of the sights. A large brass band played a discordant tune that reminded Updike of Barf's Klingon operas. Several multi-limbed females danced on the floor in front of the band and Luke thought he caught a couple in the throes of passion in one of the corners. Ben caught him staring and pulled him away before trouble started.

UPD: What does this trader look like?
BEN: He is known to disguise himself, but he is always in the company of a Wookie.
UPD: A,...Wookie? Why not a seasoned vetewan, wike myself?
BEN: (Groaning) Such levity could get a man killed here, Mr. Updike!
UPD: Sowwy.

Before Ben could further reprimand Updike, he spotted his quarry. As was planned, Updike and Barf took positions near the trader's booth as Ben and Luke sat down, uninvited. The trader was slumped over, apparently in an alcohol-induced haze. His companion roared in disapproval.

CHW: Ro-o-oar! How-o-ar!
HAN: What,...what is it, Chewie?
BEN: Han Gover, I presume?
HAN: Ben,...Ben Cannoli? What are you doing here??
BEN: I am in need of assistance, my friend.
HAN: Oh-h-h no! That last run I did for the Knights got my ship confiscated for a month. I spent 4,000 I.C. getting a friend to buy it back at auction!
BEN: I apologize for the inconvenience, Han, but this time it is of a more,...perosnal venture.
CHW: Ah-roooar! Arrgghh!
HAN: Yeah, Chewie, I smell a trap, too! And who's the kid?
BEN: He is my protege, Luke.
CHW: Arff! Rooargh!
HAN: And what about the bodyguards?
BEN: (sighing) I see nothing gets past you, Chewen-Tobacca. They, too, are friends.
HAN: Nothing personal, Ben, but your past choice of "friends" left a lot to be deired.
BEN: Pity. I did not want to resort to this, but I fear I must call in that marker I hold on you. You do "owe me one."
HAN: What,...what marker? You mean the time I....
BEN: SHe was a most difficult person to silence, Han. Many resources went into that project.
CHW: Arroogah! Roo-ar!
HAN: Yeah, I know, Chewie. He's got me by the balls again. All right, Ben, what's the scam?

Ben filled Han in on the story thus far. Han apologized for falling asleep during the reading of the first seven chapters. Ben took no offense, for it was a common occurrance for this writer's audience. After giving it some consideration, Han reluctantly agreed. Ben gave Updike and Barf the high sign and they slowly made their way out of the bar, careful no to raise the suspicions of any Imperial agents.

HAN: My ship's over in spacedock, getting some routine maintenance done on it.
BRF: Is your ship fast?
HAN: Fast?? Buddy, ain't nothing faster than the Centennial Sparrow! UPD: The what...?
HAN: Hey, don't look at me! I bought it used and its a bad omen to rename a ship!
CHW: Arr-oor! Haagh!

Han looked over at what had caught Chewie's attention. Standing by the entrance portal of the Centennial Sparrow were several heavily-armed thuigs and a Rubenesque woman.

HAN: Awww,...shit!! I though I gave her the slip back on Berumba!
UPD: Who is she?
HAN: That's Peaches! "Peaches the Slut!!"
BEN: And what matter of transgression have you wrought upon her?
HAN: I owe her for,..."services" rendered.
LUK: Like,...what kind of services, Mr. Gover?
HAN: Kid, if you have to ask...
BEN: We do not have the time for that now, Young Luke. I shall explain later.
HAN: You do that, old man. Let me go over and talk to her. Maybe I can sweet-talk her out of this.
UPD: Barf and I will take up positions overhead. If the shit hits the fan, we'll take out the goon squad.
CHW: Yowoor!
HAN: Yeah, I know, Chewie! But maybe she'll forgive and forget!

Reluctantly, Han made his way towards the craft. Peaches turned towards him. Her guards made at the ready.

HAN: Peaches, baby! What's with the heavy guns?
PCH: Han-no, kompatindo knabo! Vi suldas min monego!
HAN: Yeah, but I owe a lot of people money! The Imperial Trade Commission is squeezing me at every turn, Peaches! I can't make enough to pay everybody at once.
PCH: Estas al mi indiferente! Mi prizorgis vin, vi prizorgu min!
HAN: I would take care of you if I could, but...
PCH: Vi pagu min, a vi mortu!!
HAN: But,...but, peaches, if you kill me, how will you collect on my debt?
PCH: La sipo estos mia! Mi vendos gi!
HAN: Sell my ship? I don't think so!!

With that, Han gave Barf and Updike the signal to open fire. Phaser blasts blended with laser fire from opposing retail franchises. Ben grabbed his light cutlass from Luke and jumped into the fray. With casualities mounting, Peaches sounded the retreat.

PCH: Roon avay! Roon avay! Han-no, mi havos mia vengo!!
HAN: Revenge this, bitch!

Han fired his laser pistol and struck Peaches in a near point-blank hit. One of her lackeys quickly scurried to drag her away. As the smoke cleared, the gang quickly reqrouped. A klaxon sounded off in the distance.