[Han Solo does not, as a general rule, do jobs for the Rebel Alliance.
They want to take down the Empire? Good for them! Han applauds their determination, really. He just thinks they're most likely doomed, considering all the resources that the Empire has at its disposal, and he doesn't want to get caught up in the fallout should this Rebel Alliance go badly. Fallout does not, generally, mean good things financially.
And he wants to be alive to spend his money, thanks.
Still, money's tight these days, and he'd really rather not get into debt with Jabba the Hutt, of all people to owe money to. He's already considering that move when Chewie pops back in to tell him that he found them a friend, and, joy of joys, one who can pay. (Later he will regret taking Chewie's word at that.) All Han has to do is park his ass in the cantina--which he was already doing, if somewhat more depressively--and wait.
So Han waits, doing his best to look calm and casual. For the most part he succeeds, but the very fact that he picked a seat with the best view of the entrance says something about how anxious he was.
Someone sits next to him. He smiles, charming and roguish. It's the sort of smile that hangs a neon smile on his neck and screams hey, don't trust me, I'm a criminal!]
As a matter of fact, I am. [He turns to her.] You're Chewie's friend? [Casual talk, feeling out the potential client and giving nothing away. She might give him his next big score.]
but i don't WANNA be a rebel M O M
They want to take down the Empire? Good for them! Han applauds their determination, really. He just thinks they're most likely doomed, considering all the resources that the Empire has at its disposal, and he doesn't want to get caught up in the fallout should this Rebel Alliance go badly. Fallout does not, generally, mean good things financially.
And he wants to be alive to spend his money, thanks.
Still, money's tight these days, and he'd really rather not get into debt with Jabba the Hutt, of all people to owe money to. He's already considering that move when Chewie pops back in to tell him that he found them a friend, and, joy of joys, one who can pay. (Later he will regret taking Chewie's word at that.) All Han has to do is park his ass in the cantina--which he was already doing, if somewhat more depressively--and wait.
So Han waits, doing his best to look calm and casual. For the most part he succeeds, but the very fact that he picked a seat with the best view of the entrance says something about how anxious he was.
Someone sits next to him. He smiles, charming and roguish. It's the sort of smile that hangs a neon smile on his neck and screams hey, don't trust me, I'm a criminal!]
As a matter of fact, I am. [He turns to her.] You're Chewie's friend? [Casual talk, feeling out the potential client and giving nothing away. She might give him his next big score.]