Fame and Fortune

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

A few days later, with five credits left in his pocket, Han was back at Lando's office. When he entered he was surprised to see him out of uniform and cleaning out his desk. "What happened? Mon Mothma finally decide to investigate your past and court-martial you?

Calrissian turned his gaze toward Han slowly, and gave an appraising look. "That's a very odd thing for you to say, Evin. Do you know President Mothma personally?"

Han felt like kicking himself, knowing he'd made a stupid mistake and almost revealed his identity to Lando. He'd decided the day before there was no way he was going to tell Lando his long, unbelievably true story in the event the gambler actually believed him. He was certain Lando would promptly tell Chewie and Luke, and then Luke would tell Leia, and everything would unravel for people he still cared about, even if they didn't care about him anymore. Chewie would leave his important new job, Leia ... well, he was certain Leia wouldn't leave her handsome new husband. Still, it was important that Chewie was free of his life-debt, at least in Han's mind.

"No," he replied, shuffling his feet and looking down. "I was just kiddin' 'round. Bad joke. Sorry."

"Not a problem," Lando said lightly. "I told you I was going to quit being a General when I became your agent. I've resigned my commission. Where have you been, anyway?"

"Trying to find a sabacc game where the buy-in is ten credits."

Lando laughed. "High finances there, Evin."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda broke."

Calrissian laughed. "Not anymore, you're not. Got the record label to re-do your contract, and your advance is eight thousand. I tried getting ten thousand, but they wouldn't budge past the eight. Still, sixteen hundred for me isn't bad for a few hours of negotiating." He walked over to his desk and handed Han the new contract. "Sign on the dotted line and initial the dozen or so places they have marked."

"Eight thousand?" Han asked, taking the flimsi in shock. "For one song?"

"Song and dance number. If it sells, which they think it will, the option kicks in for a second song, and that will be a ten thousand credit advance. A third puts your advance up to fifteen."

Han blinked in shock. "They might want three songs?"

"Yes, they will. And guess what?"

"What?"

"You.. we, actually, get a royalty on each sale and each time it shows on any program on the holo-net. They tried offering ten percent, but I insisted on fifteen percent." Lando grinned widely. "A successful song can earn Coruscanti Labels a million or more credits."

"That's... a hundred thousand..." Han gasped. More than enough to buy a ship. A very, very nice ship.

"A hundred thousand would only be ten percent. I got us fifteen," Lando pointed out quickly. "Sign that contract, and let's get it to the company before they can change their minds." Lando frowned at Han. "And then you need to buy new clothes. Yours are disgusting. Just follow my lead, son, because I know fashion because if you're going to become a celebrity music sensation the likes this old galaxy has never before seen you'll need to look the part."

_______

It turned out that learning how to dance was a lot harder than learning how to fly a ship through hyper-space, at least in Han's opinion. Coruscanti Labels had allowed him to choose between four songs and he picked the one closest to his heart, a snappy tune about a smuggler that ends up in jail and when he's finally released from Imperial prison he finds his girl had up and married a Moff. Han figured in his previous life something like that could very likely have happened to him. The words to the song might have been depressing if not for the fact the smuggler in the song hit the Corellian lottery- 'Hyper Billions' - a week later and ended up rich while the Moff ended up imprisoning his bride in the mines of Kessel. Han figured it worked out well for everyone in the song.