Yo, Han! Why Are You Always Making Me Fit the Falcon?

Han,

(translated from Wookiespeak to Galactic Basic by C3P0, human-cyborg, relations)

I am tired of you always having me fit the Falcon for you, especially when we land on distant planets en route to our final destination. We blast through the galaxy smuggling goods for a hefty price, and it’s cool that I got half the cut, but when we step off the ramp of the Falcon, the first that comes out of your mouth is “Chewie, see what’s wrong with the Falcon. I’ll have a look around.”

Then I labor for you trying to figure out what the major malfunction of the Falcon is. It’s always something to do with the hyperdrive or the navigation systems or something or other. Then you tell everyone we encounter, especially that farm boy and the old man, that you made special modifications when it was actually me who did those modifications. How come you get all the credit for all the amazing things about the Falcon? I’m the one who did all the repairs.

Most of the time I’m all alone on the ship, and I get bored playing Dejarik alone too. By the way, how do I win this game anyway? Beckett introduced me to this holographic game, and I didn’t have the patience for it, but somehow I got really good at it. I certainly can outwit a couple of droids whom I won’t mention, but you obviously know who they are. I hate losing, which is why I’m always screaming when I don’t win.

Anyways, forget that game for now. Do you remember our first meeting in Mimban when you were thrown into that muddy pit where I tried to kill you? All of a sudden you start speaking to me in my language asking me to be reasonable and help you escape. You did have a good point. I hated that muddy pit and slaughtering military prisoners was getting quite boring for a creature of my size and strength. What bothered me about this escape that you proposed to me was I was the one doing all the work and the only reason why I agreed to help you was that I wanted to get out and regroup with my clan. When we busted out, you didn’t even bother to cut the chains that linked us together. You were worried about your own ventures instead of cutting me loose.

Why is that, Han? What’s in it for me?

I wanted to forgive and forget, but when we were off here and there from Ord Mandell to Corelia and beyond the western reaches, I had to remember the life debt that I pledged to you for saving my life. I may have been grumpy or overly rash in my pursuits and decisions with you, but there were several other occasions that put a wedge in my Wookie underpants.

After we took the job from the farm boy and the old man and ended up on that huge grey disco ball in outer space that sucked the Falcon right up, I was still doing the dirty work for you. I may have not been working on repairs for Falcon, but standing in as an imperial prisoner for you.

Come on, Han! You can do better than that.

Yah, we saved the Princess, but for what? To give up some reward money and do a suicide attack on imperial tie fighters?

Princess Leia was right about you Han, “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.”

Respectfully and tirelessly your friend for life,

Chewbecca