Luke, shaking and totally amazed at the old man's abilities, attempts to stand. The entire fight has lasted only a matter of seconds. The cantina goes back to normal, although Ben is given an unspoken respect from the cantina patrons.

Luke, rubbing his bruised head as Ben helps him to his feet, looks at the old man with new awe. Ben points to the Wookiee.

LUKE: I'm allright.

BEN: Chewbacca here, is first-mate on a ship that might suit us.

A human with a cap and goggles is seen at the bar who witnessed all that just transpired.

TATOOINE - MOS EISLEY - STREET: The same human with cap and goggles comes out of the cantina and approaches two stormtroopers in the street. As he talks to them, he's pointing towards the cantina.

THREEPIO: I don't like the look of this.

CANTINA: Strange creatures play exotic big band music on odd-looking instruments. Luke is sitting with Ben and Chewbacca at a booth as Han Solo joins them. Han is a tough, roguish starpilot about thirty years old. A mercenary on a starship, he is simple, sentimental, and cocksure.

HAN: Han Solo. I'm captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system.

BEN: Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship.

HAN: Fast ship? You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?

BEN: Should I have?

HAN: It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!

Ben reacts to Solo's stupid attempt to impress them with obvious misinformation.

HAN: (continued) I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the big Corellian ships now. She's fast enough for you, old man. What's the cargo?

BEN: Only passengers. Myself, the boy, two droids . . . and no questions asked.

HAN: What is it? Some kind of local trouble?

BEN: Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements.

HAN: Well, that's the real trick, isn't it? And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand, all in advance.

LUKE: Ten thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that!

HAN: But who's going to fly it, kid! You?

LUKE: You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself! We don't have to sit here and listen . . .

BEN: We could pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan.

HAN: Seventeen, huh?

Han ponders this for a few moments.

HAN: Okay. You guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay Ninety-four.

BEN: Ninety-four.

HAN: Looks like somebody's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork.

Ben and Luke turn around to see four Imperial stormtroopers looking at the dead bodies and asking the bartenders some questions. The bartender points to the booth.

TROOPER: All right, we'll check it out.

The stormtroopers look over at the booth but Luke and Ben are gone. The bartender shrugs his shoulders in puzzlement.

HAN: Seventeen thousand! Those guys must really be desperate. This could really save my neck. Get back to the ship and get her ready.

TATOOINE - MOS EISLEY - STREET.

BEN: You'll have to sell your speeder.

LUKE: That's okay. I'm never coming back to this planet again.

CANTINA: As Han is about to leave, Greedo, a slimy green-faced alien with a short trunk-nose, pokes a gun in his side. The creature speaks in a foreign tongue translated into English subtitles.

GREEDO: Going somewhere, Solo?

HAN: Yes, Greedo. As a matter of fact, I was just going to see your boss. Tell Jabba that I've got his money.

Han sits down and the alien sits across from him holding the gun on him.

GREEDO: It's too late. You should have paid him when you had the chance. Jabba's put a price on your head, so large that every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I'm lucky I found you first.

HAN: Yeah, but this time I got the money.

GREEDO: If you give it to me, I might forget I found you.

HAN: I don't have it with me. Tell Jabba . . .

GREEDO: Jabba's through with you. He has no time for smugglers who drop their shipments at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser.

HAN: Even I get boarded sometimes. Do you think I had a choice?

Han Solo slowly reaches for his gun under the table.

GREEDO: You can tell that to Jabba. He may only take your ship.

HAN: Over my dead body.

GREEDO: That's the idea. I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time.

HAN: Yes, I'll bet you have.

Suddenly the slimy alien disappears in a blinding flash of light.

Han pulls his smoking gun from beneath the table as the other patron look on in bemused amazement. Han gets up and starts out of the cantina, flipping the bartender some coins as he leaves.

HAN: Sorry about the mess.