Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo by Donna Tauscher

DATA PAD ENTRY 1
    Sai’da: Greetings, Mr. Solo, I am Sai’da, a historian of the B’omarr order of monks. We built this monastery—
    Han: Whoa. I don’t think I’ll be needing any religious assistance in my final hours, buddy, since I don’t plan on staying here long enough to become an appetizer for Jabba’s rancor.
    Sai’da: No, you misunderstand. It’s your history I want. I’m not here to minister to you in your final hours.
    Han: Chewie, would you mind showing our new friend to the door? I’ve got some problems, mister, and telling you how I got here won’t help them any. No offense. Besides, I’m having a hard time even keeping my head up at the moment. I’m pretty woozy, and, oh yeah, in case you missed it, I’m blind. Chewie, help me sit down before you toss this guy out of here.
    Sai’da: There’s no need for violence. I am not your jailer. Besides, I’m locked up in here with you now. I don’t have access to the cell. One of Jabba’s guards let me in.
    Han: That still doesn’t sound too friendly to me. You and the guard are pals, right? Never mind, I don’t want to hear it.
    Sai’da: The guard and I are not acquainted. I only wish to speak with you. Since my order cultivates patience, I have time to wait. You don’t, however, seem to be feeling too well. Is it the hibernation sickness?
    Han: So, you know a few things, huh? If you’ve got some answers, you can have a seat. Like how long is this gonna last? Or even better, tell me what happened to Princess Leia.
    Chewbacca: Grrrrrrlwaugh!!
    Han: It’s okay, pal. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about our princess. But finding you in the cell was a shock. Plus I was pretty disoriented. Not to mention nauseated. But really, she’s okay. She was very much alive when she got me out of the carbonite.
    We were barely reunited, though, when Jabba’s ugly laugh surprised us. A short-lived rescue. And since he’s not one to listen to reason—big surprise—next thing you know his goons have hauled me to this wet, leaky, poor excuse of a cell, and I don’t know where she is. So, what’s your name again, monk man?
    Sai’da: Sai’da.
    Han: Okay, Sai’da. Tell me where the princess is.
    Sai’da: As far as I know, she is with Jabba. She is unharmed. It is for you he harbors his animosity.
    Han: Animosity? That’s a polite way of putting it. I like how you educated types talk. I mean, I’m here waiting for Jabba’s spineless thugs to show up and you say… never mind. Listen, the point is, you don’t think the princess is in danger?
    Sai’da: I can’t be sure of anything with Jabba, but I don’t believe she is in danger for now.
    Han: For now. Not good enough. Can you get us to her? I know I don’t look like I’m in any shape for a big rescue attempt, but my best buddy here, Chewie, can handle the physical stuff.
    Chewbacca: Grrrrwwwl!
    Sai’da: I don’t want to mislead you. I am in no position to take you to the princess. I am here simply to record your history and—
    Han: Maybe I’d feel a little more like talking if I thought there was something in it for me. You know your way around this place, right? But, hey, how come you’re in this monastery—you did say it was a monastery, right?
    Sai’da: Correct.
    Han: Got to be the weirdest monastery in the galaxy. Anyway, if you’re not with Jabba, what’s your deal? Why should I be wasting my time with you?
    Sai’da: Time cannot be wasted, Mr. Solo. Let me explain my presence. The B’omarr order of monks built this monastery as a place of perfect exile. It is vast. We eventually withdrew into the inner sanctum as our practices do not require much space. We focus on the power of the mind and spirit. Unfortunately, people began to break into the citadel and to use its corridors and alcoves for business purposes and hideaways. Jabba the Hutt eventually claimed a portion of our monastery as his “palace.” We rarely see him. We study our philosophies and keep our private peace.
    Han: