Star Wars - Han Solo's Revenge

by Han Solo's Revenge (by Brian Daley)

  "The Falcon would have enough emergency thrust to take the other cliff, and the terrain layout says there'll be more open space over there; you can see more of what you'd be getting into. That's the way my cautious old Wookiee pal likes things. He'll be looking for an out-of-the-way spot where he can set down, keep out of sight, try to do some repairs himself, and wait for me. I'll find him, don't worry. "

  "You call this a plan?" she scoffed. "Why don't we just buzz along yelling his name out the hatch?"

  His tone sharpened. "I said I d find him!"

  Then Fioila understood what desperate fears for Chew-bacca's safety Han had been suppressing. "I know you will, Han, " she added quietly.

  Spray, the skip-tracer, wound his sinuous body through the chilly water, fully at home, indulging in aquabatics and playful zigzags for the sheer joy of it, his tapered tail and webbed paws driving and guiding him with grace and power, his nostrils clenched shut tightly. The clear water in this small mountaintop lake, fed by underground springs and runoff, was cold even by Spray's standards, but his pelt kept him comfortable enough for short swims. As a youth, he had swum in much colder water, but he hadn't had the leisure for much swimming in a long time. At last the Tynnan saw what he was looking for, one of the multilegged crustaceans that made its home in the lake's bottom. Spray was a bit short on air, having been frolicking when he should have been searching, he realized a little-guilt-ily. He put on a burst of speed, hoping to catch the creature without a prolonged chase.

  The crustacean didn't sense Spray's shadow or the pressure-wave he threw out before him until it was too late. It had barely begun to pick up speed when Spray seized it from behind-carefully, to avoid the pincers and walking legs. The velocity of his dive carried him down nearer the lake's bottom where, to his great surprise, his shadow scared up a second crustacean.

  With a happy burble at the thought of the good lunch he would provide, Spray struck and doubled his catch for the day. When his air supply approached its limit, Spray headed for the lake's surface. He broke through with a happy squeal, spitting a jet of water high into the air and filling his lungs again.

  He held his catch over his head, treading water and waving the crustaceans at Chewbacca, who stood on the shore. The Wookiee woofed happily and hungrily and waved back. By the time Spray was wading ashore, the Falcon's first mate was already knee-deep in the cold water, holding an empty toolbag wide open. Spray dropped his prizes into the bag gingerly, and Chewbacca shut it at once; he ruffled the skip- tracer's furry head in approval. "You came along at just the right moment," said the Tynnan.

  The freighter's rations had been all but depleted when Chewbacca had set her down, and no grazers had come near since the stampede. But Spray's skill had kept them fed, and they had split their tasks-Chewbacca staying busy with re-pairs and Spray taking on the job of meal procurement. Now they turned back for the half-kilometer trudge to the grounded starship. Water was already bubbling in an old inducer cowl-ing that Spray had set over a thermal coil at the ramp's foot.

  Their contemplation of a tasty meal was broken when Spray's head perked up, his ears swinging this way and that. Chewbacca craned at the sky and pointed, woofing an excla-mation. A small boat or large gravsled had just crested the ridge and was now dropping in directly toward them.

  The Wookiee pressed the toolbag into Spray's hands, leav-ing his own free to unsling his bowcaster. Not that the weap-ons would be much ,good against an aircraft, he reminded himself, as there was no cover near them. Luckily, Spray had the sense to imitate Chewbacca in remaining perfectly still. He realized that movement, more than anything else, would attract the attention of the airborne observer.

  The boat passed over them, but even as it did, Chewbacca could hear the strain of its steering thrusters as its pilot came about for another pass. He pivoted, watching, then barked and roared with pleasure. On its second pass the boat wag-gled and went into a barrel roll. It could only be Han Solo.

  Chewbacca plunged through the snow toward the freighter, yowling at the top of his lungs, making the shallow valley echo. Spray, clutching the writhing toolbag to his chest, fol-lowed in the Wookiee's wake as best he could.

  When the lifeboat had settled next to the Falcon, its lock opened and Han jumped out. Chewbacca raced to him, kick-ing up an aftermath of churned snow, and began pounding his friend on the back and howling his delight across the valley from time to time. When the first wave of joy had passed, the Wookiee noticed Fiolla at the boat's hatch. He plucked her down and whirled her around in a carefully re-strained hug, then set her on her feet.

  Last to descend was Bollux. To him Chewbacca extended a friendly growl but withheld a helping paw, not wanting to imply that the 'droid needed assistance. A rumble of inquiry from the Wookiee and a thumb indicating Bollux's chest pan-els brought assurances that Blue Max, too, was present.

  "We almost passed you by," Han said. "You're a little too good at camouflage." He meant the Millennium Falcon, which Chewbacca had permitted to settle until her landing gear was nearly retracted. The Wookiee and Spray had piled snow around the starship and spread clumps of scrub and more snow across her upper hull.

  "But we noticed all those animal tracks detouring around to either side of her, " Han added, "so I took a closer look. " Spray and Chewbacca were tugging at the arrivals, urging them to come aboard. Han delayed just long enough to drag forth some of the new circuitry; he thought for a moment his copilot was going to weep at the sight of it.

  Lunch was forgotten as they brought one another up on what had happened. Spray turned sheepish when his jetti-soning of Bollux was mentioned. "1b tell the truth, Cap-tain," he said, "as I explained to Chewbacca here, I got the idea all at once and knew I'd have to act instantly." To the 'droid he said, "I truly apologize, but it seemed like the only thing to do, and I sometimes have trouble making snap de-cisions. I just plunged ahead with it before I could stop and dither. Perhaps the general impulsiveness was contagious."

  "I fully understand, sir," Bollux answered graciously. "And as it worked out, it was quite fortunate for all of us that you thought and acted so quickly. Blue Max agrees with me, too. "

  They all thought it best to ignore the high-pitched hol-low sounding "Hah! " that came from Bollux's closed chest panels.

  Soon they were all at work. Bollux, Spray, and Fiolla be-gan clearing away what they could of the piled snow, con-centrating on exposing the cockpit, bow, and main thrusters. Han and Chewbacca strained at repairs with Blue Max, out of Bollux's chest emplacement and connected to the forward tech station to check for accuracy as each individual hookup was made. As the fluidic components were removed one by one from the starship, Chewbacca took great pleasure in heaving them as far as he could; some of his throws were so impressive that Han regretted that it wasn't a formal athletic event. He pardoned his friend these excesses; the fluidics had been as much a curse as a blessing since they were installed.

  As the replacements were made, the pile of discarded adaptors and jury-rigged gear grew. Because they knew in-timately every cubic centimeter of their ship, they worked rapidly; they had originally installed the fluidics in such fash-ion that removal would be simple.

  Activating another component, Han asked Max over the comlink how things looked from the tech station. "Checks out perfectly, Captain," came the computer's childish voice.

  Pleased with,the speed with which their labors were going, Han said, "We should take time to retune the engine power-curves for peak efficiency, but I'd rather get off Ammuud first. The biggest job's the only one left-the hyperspace con-trol units. Shouldn't take more than-"

  "Captain Solo!" Max's vocoder communicated urgency. "Trouble! Long-range sensors paint three blips!" Chewbacca yipped a question at Han, who snapped a sharp response. "What's it matter who they are? They're not com-ing for a gala sendoff, that's for sure. No time for the hyper-drive. Seal up the hull. " He called to Fiolla and the others "Get aboard; we're raising ship right now!"

  Han sprinted up t
he ramp, leaving his first mate to close up the exposed systems. In the cockpit his hands flew back and forth across both his own and Chewbacca's sides of the console. Among other things, he flicked on the ship's commo board and monitoring outfit, though he doubted he'd pick up much in the way of transmissions from the bogies.

  But a moment later, in the midst of charging the ship's weaponry, he noticed a blinking telltale on the broad-band monitor. He read the instruments; there was a steady signal coming from somewhere very close by. A fast scan by the direction finder told him its origin.

  He recalled that he had left the disruptor rifle in the life-boat. But Chewbacca had placed his gunbelt in the naviga-tor's chair. Good boy! Fastening the belt around his hips and tying down the holster, he rushed back for the ramp.

  Chewbacca noticed the blaster at once. "We've been popped," Han explained. "Somebody keyed the boat trans-ceiver; we've been sending all along. It probably took them this long to pick us up among all the dips and crags." He was glaring meaningfully at Fiolla.

  "After all this time;" she said with amazement; "you still don't trust me."

  "Name another nominee? Spray hasn't been near the boat and I sure don't remember doing it." He beckoned his part-ner. "We've got work to do, pal. Spray, you too. Bollux, go with our other guest to the forward compartment and watch her. And brace your chassis for some rough weather." He started back for the cockpit, and Fiolla headed for the for-ward compartment without another word.

  Han ushered Spray into the navigator's chair, directly be-hind his own, and all three buckled themselves in. He thought about sending out a distress signal to the Mor Glayyd, but a glance at the commo board ended that; one or more of the oncoming craft was jamming, and he had no time to try to circumvent the interference.

  Bringing thrusters up to a hover, he retracted the ship's three-point landing gear the rest of the way. Over the low tumult of the engines he asked the Wookiee, "How good a pilot is he?" He jerked a thumb at Spray. The first mate made a so-so motion of his hairy paw but nodded, which meant that while the skip-tracer might never make the Kessel Run, he would be adequate in a jam - which this was. "Splendid,'."Han said unenthusiastically, and cut in main thrusters. Kick-ing up fountains of steam and mud and clumps of scrub growth, the Millennium Falcon blasted free of the remaining snow and shot off into the sky.

  Han let his copilot take the controls and left his seat to bend over Spray. "Here it is: we haven't got hyperdrive because we didn't have time to reconnect it. That means we can't duck out of this one. Sensors say those are small, fast jobs coming for us, maybe interceptors, and sooner or later they'll overhaul us. We can't outrun them but we can outfight them if Chewie and I can man the turrets. That means somebody's got to pilot, so unless you feel like manning a quad-mount-"

  "Captain," gasped Spray, "I've never fired a weapon in my life! "

  "Sort of what I figured," sighed Han. "Take a seat here." Scratching his hand nervously, Spray sat unwillingly in the pilot's seat while Han adjusted it and pushed it. closer to the console. Spray poked his buck-toothed snout up to various indicators, scopes, and gauges; with his inferior eyesight he was, of course, primarily an instrument pilot. But he obvi-ously knew what he was doing.

  "Just keep shields up and try to angle with their attack runs, " Han instructed, "and try to preserve her resale value, if that inspires you. Otherwise, nothing fancy. Just leave the rest to us. "

  He and his partner made their way to the central ladderwell that led to the top and belly turrets. "I wish there was another way to do this, " Han confessed.

  "Dowwpp, " the Wookiee responded.

  Han climbed toward the top turret and felt the vibrations along the ladder that told him his copilot was descending. He hauled himself into the turret, seating himself before the quad-guns and donning his headset.

  Ship's gravity was altered here, permitting him to sit with his back perpendicular to the ladderwell without feeling a downward drag. In the same way, Chewbacca would be sit-ting in the belly turret facing directly "downward" without being pulled against his seat's belt.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Han could look directly down the ladderwell at his friend's back. Chewbacca flipped him a quick wave, and each of them ran his battery through a few test-traverses, making sure the servos responded to control grips and tracked accurately.

  "The usual stakes," Han called down, "and double for kills in the Money Lane." Chewbacca woofed consent. Spray's voice, shaking with tension, came up. "I have three confirmed blips on approach. They should be on your screens by--they're on us!"

  Part 11

  JUST as Spray apprised the two partners of the oncoming craft, the newcomers announced their own arrival unmistak-ably. The Millennium Falcon quaked, her shields claiming huge amounts of power as cannon fire incandesced against her.

  "They're breaking!" Spray yelled, but both Han and Chewbacca could already see that from their targeting mon-itors. Clutching the handgrips of his gunmount, Han tra-versed the quad-barrels astern to address his natural target, the uppermost of the vessels overtaking his ship. He knew the Wookiee would be on -the one falling deepest into his own field of fire. They'd been through this sort of thing be-fore; each knew the area of his responsibility and how the other worked.

  The targeting computer drew up intersecting lines in two parallel grids and showed Han an arrowhead of light repre-senting the bandit. From a lifetime's habit, Han divided his time and attention- between computer modeling on the tiny screen and visual ranging. He never entirely trusted com-puters or any other machine; he liked to see what he was shooting at.

  The target swept in, even faster than he had expected. It was, as he had thought it would be, a pinnace, a ship's fight-ing boat. So, our friends the slavers are still with us.

  At the same time he was squeezing off quick bursts, trying to bracket the pinnace. The quad-guns slammed away in al-ternating pairs, but the pinnace had picked up too much speed; it was into his gunsights and out again before Han had a chance to come close.

  The starship shook like a child's toy as her defensive man-tle struggled to deal with the blasts of the pinnace's cannon. Han registered,. distantly, the sound of the belly guns and Chewbacca's frustrated howl as the Wookiee, too, missed on the first pass.

  Then, instead of one triangle of light on his targeting mon-itor screen, Han saw two. He brought the quad-mount around hastily, its servos protesting, throwing him deeper against the padding of the gunner's seat.

  A pinnace had come in from directly astern, its blaster fire bisecting the Falcon's upper hull precisely. There were deep vibrations as the starship shuddered from the fire. Han couldn't stop himself, when he saw the volley walking along the hull at him, from throwing an arm up to protect himself. But deflectors held, and in a split second the pinnace had. swept by with its two companions to come to bear for another run.

  The pinnaces were perhaps twice the size of the lifeboat Han and Fiolla had stolen. They were fast, heavily armed, and nearly as maneuverable as fighters. Lacking hyperdrive, there was no question of outrunning them; the Falcon could only make a fight of it.

  The freighter tilted and sideslipped as Spray attempted an evasive tactic. Han, his aim spoiled, yelled into his headset mike. "Nothing fancy, Spray. Just go with their strafing runs and cut into their speed advantage; no aerobatics!"

  Spray trimmed the freighter. The pinnaces had broken right and left with the third ship going into a steep, rolling climb for an overhead attack. Han held fire; knowing they were out of range, and bided his time. Spray headed the freighter deeper into the high mountains.

  The pinnace that had broken left now dove abruptly and came in under the Falcon's belly. Han could hear the reports of Chewbacca's guns as he brought his own weapon around, its four barrels pivoting and elevating on their pintles in re-sponse to the commands of the targeting grips.

  He tried for the diving pinnace. Outside the ball-turret the quad-guns responded minutely to the least adjustment of his controls.
The computer limned aiming grids, plotted the pin-nace's estimated course and speed, and predicted where it would be. Han dewed his seat around, hands clenching the grips, and four cannon barrels swung to follow suit. He opened fire and the quad-guns pounded red destruction at the bandit. He scored a partial hit, but the pinnace's shields held and it managed to evade his fire almost instantly.

  "Swindler!" he howled, tracking the pinnace in a hope-less effort to connect again. There-was the sound of a distant explosion and a triumphant roar echoed up the ladderwell. Chewbacca had drawn first blood.

  The third pinnace swept past, taking a course almost at right angles to the one Han was still tracking. The newcomer got off a sustained burst that splashed harmlessly off shields, but there was a surge from the Millennium Falcon's engines. The ship's defensive mantle was in danger of failing, having taken extreme punishment from the sustained, well-directed fire of the attackers.