Han Solo was a trampfreighter captain, a smuggler and a free-lance lawbender when it suited him. Together with his Wookiee pal, Chewbacca, he roamed the galaxy in the starship Millennium Falcon, owing nothing to anyone—human, ‘droid or otherwise. If the Authority took a dim view of some of his activities, well, that was the Authority’s problem. Or so Han Solo thought. Then the Authority informed him he would have to bring the Millennium Falcon up to certain specific technical standards. Safety standards, they had said—but Han knew better. He also knew a safe planet where Doc fixed up starships—no questions asked—and turned a blind eye to super-sophisticated jamming equipment he might find on an old freighter. Unfortunately Doc had disappeared. Totally. His daughter Jessa was willing to make the necessary repairs on the Millennium Falcon; she was even willing to provide Han with the waiver that would keep investigators out of his starship for a long time. All Han and Chewbacca had to do was pick up some undercover agents at the Authority Data Center on Orron III and then find Jessa’s father. Han wasn’t particularly thrilled with the idea, but he didn’t have much choice. Only the knowledge that as soon as this little pick-up-and-delivery job was finished they would be free for a long, long time made the mission bearable.