Tale from the Mos Eisley Cantina

This is an iconic scene from 'Star Wars - A New Hope', told from Greedo's point of view. Those of you who have seen the movie should remember this scene well.

The Mos Eisley Cantina was unusually crowded for an early afternoon. There were a lot of dangerous characters hanging around, and young Greedo tried not to make eye contact with any of them. He stood in a smoke-filled corner, as far away from the bar as possible, and did his best to look dangerous like everyone else. It wasn't easy, because he was absoluteley terrified, and his knees felt a little unsteady as a result.

He felt a large drop of sweat running down his forehead and moved his hand up to wipe it, but stopped himself just in time. The cantina was a tough place, he thought to himself, and wiping forehead-sweat would surely be seen as a sign of weakness around here. Greedo could not afford to draw that kind of attention. This place was for the tough and the dangerous, and Greedo was neither. He did not belong here, and had no business being here, especially not on his fifteenth birthday.

Greedo had graduated from Wasserstein & Goldman's Bounty Hunter Academy no more than three days ago, which made him one of the galaxy's top five youngest bounty hunters. Of course none of the other bounty hunters actually knew that, because Greedo had falsified the birthdate on his credentials in order to gain admittance into the academy in the first place. He really wished that he hadn't done that now.
If he hadn't lied on his application form he wouldn't be here now, in the most dangerous place on Tatooine, on a bounty hunting contract he wasn't even remotely qualified for.

Greedo really wanted to cry. He had just turned fifteen and he was about to meet with certain death, or 'Han Solo', as he was known to non-bounty hunters. Nobody crosses Han Solo and lives to tell about it. Everone in the galaxy knew that. It was the golden rule of bounty hunting, and the academy had firm instructions regarding this: Whenever there is a bounty on Han Solo's head, a bounty hunter must immediately pinpoint Solo's exact location in the galaxy, and travel quickly in the opposite direction until there is at least a dozen star system's distance between them. And if one should be unfortunate enough to spot the Millennium Falcon ahead in space, one must feign immediate engine failure, and remain perfectly still until the Falcon has disappeared into hyperspace.

But Greedo had drawn the short straw, and now it was too late to back out. Jabba the Hut's men were surely here somewhere, watching him. And they knew Solo was coming here. They would make sure that Greedo went through with it, or died trying. He considered feigning blaster failure, but one of Jabba's men would probably just sidle up to him and quietly slip him a new one. There was absolutely no way out of this now. He looked at his watch. It was time. Greedo downed his drink and tried to remember one of his childhood prayers.

When Han Solo walked through the door, the whole cantina felt it. It was as if the atmosphere itself stood perfectly still, afraid to make even the slightest move around Solo, lest it should anger him. Hushed conversations around the cantina suddenly became even more hushed, and more polite somehow. The Cantina band dropped at least five or six beats but quickly recoverd, and bravely continued their set, but in a slightly subdued and apologetic tone. Greedo kept his head down, and tried to watch Solo's movements from his booth. The dangerous looking characters by the bar were now doing their best to look curteous and accomodating as Solo ordered a drink. Several gangsters tripped over themselves, trying to make room for him and his Wookie Chewbacca. A couple of attractive young women by the bar fainted when Han Solo brushed them with a gaze. Greedo just watched a while, and waited.

There was a sudden commotion over by the bar, and Greedo heard a loud scream. Some clumsy fool must have had a few too many drinks, and accidentally made eye contact with Han Solo. But when the crowd cleared, Greedo was surprised to see an old man in a robe holding a lightsaber. He had just cut some ruffian's arm off, and was now helping a young farmboy up on his feet. Wonder what the hell that was about, Greedo thought to himself. He then watched with interest as Han Solo walked over to a booth and joined Chewbacca, who was sitting down with the old man and the farmboy. They seemed to be discussing something of importance. For a moment, Greedo felt his hopes rising. Maybe they would all leave together, and deny Greedo the chance of confronting Solo one on one. Or better yet, maybe Imperial Stormtroopers would show to investigate the incident with the old man, and Greedo would have an iron-clad excuse for abandoning the mission!

As Greedo watched them talk, he saw that the farmboy had clearly no idea who he was talking to, for it looked like he was actually arguing with Solo! That young idiot has just signed his death warrant, Greedo thought to himself, fully expecting to see the farmboy blasted in the head, along with the old man. But much to Greedo's amazement, Solo actually seemed amused with the boy. and seemed to be baiting him on, as if enjoying himself.

The old man seemed to have reached an agreement with Solo, because he took the farmboy by the arm, and led him out of there. Then the wookie left too, and Han Solo was left by himself. At last, the dreaded moment had arrived. It was time to make a move. Greedo swallowed hard. Goodbye galaxy, he thought.
On shaking knees, he approached Solo, and pointing his quivering blaster at him, tried to put as much authority into his voice as his dry throat would allow:
"Going somewhere, Solo?"

"Yes Greedo, as a matter of fact, I was just on my way to see your boss.."

Wow, Greedo thought. He's talking to me. I should be dead already, but he's actually talking to me. I don't believe it. This is going really well so far! Maybe, just maybe, I might make it out of here alive!....