Six years before The Force Awakens….
Gary the stormtrooper sat sadly in the cantina.
Formerly TK-1287, the retired trooper was having a bad day. He blew what remained of his life savings on a bad bet — he backed the wrong team in the Kessel Races. Now all he had left was a pack of gum and a couple of credits.
Someone took the bar stool next to him, an old smuggler turned race team captain. It was that scoundrel Han Solo.
Gary glanced sideways at him. “That was a bad race man. You shoulda stayed in the smuggling business.”
“The team’s not up to spec today,” Han replied with a trace of irritation. “Do I know you?”
“Yeah man, TK-1287. We captured you back on Cloud City. I was the one who tied you to that torture rack!”
There was an awkward silence.
“If it helps, I backed your team today with my life savings.”
Han nodded. “Yeah? Thanks for the vote of confidence. Lemme buy you a drink.”
Several rounds later….
“… we still keep the metal bikini in the closet. So whadya do now?”, asked a heavily drunk Han.
“I’m just a drifter seeing the galaxy. Hic! Didn’t get to see it much during my service,” Gary replied. “So where’s your kid?”
“Jedi school taking after his uncle. More mumbo jumbo an’ handwaving. Never really understood any of it.”
Han looked at his watch. “Shit, I just remembered it’s Father’s Day! I gotta pick him up today, tell him the truth bout his granddad.”
He stood up. “I gotta go. Little snot’s been lookin forward to it for a long time.”
“Uncle Luke, is dad still coming?”
As Han turned to leave, Gary the stormtrooper stopped him. “You really gonna ditch me man? I’m broke because of your nerf-ass team!”
Han swayed and collapsed back on the stool. “Alright, one more round wouldn’t hurt.”
“Awesome! Forget the little fucker, he’s with Jedi monks now man. I know a good Twi’lek stripclub just ’round the corner. Hic!”
“Fine, lead on buckethead.”
Six years later….