"Oh, don't worry about that," Han said. "We have blasters. There's nothing out there that we can't take care of."
"I'm afraid I'm not designed to travel in this kind of terrain," Threepio argued. "It's too wet and rugged. In ten days, my joints will squeak like a roonat, if they aren't frozen altogether."
"I'll bring some oil."
"If Zsinj's men come looking for us," Threepio said, "they'll be able to home in on my circuitry. I'm not equipped with any kind of electronic countermeasures that would let me conceal my presence."
Han bit his lip. Threepio was right. His very presence could likely get them all killed, and there wasn't a thing they could do. "Look," Han said. "You and I have been together for a long time. I never turn my back on a friend."
"A friend, sir?" Threepio asked. Han considered. In all likelihood this trip would kill the droid, and though they'd never been friends, he didn't really hate Threepio that much. Out in the darkness, some animal gave a whooping call. It sounded peaceful, not at all threatening, yet for all he knew it could be the alien call of some giant predator saying, "I smell dinner."
"Now don't you worry about a thing," Han said as he finished dressing the droid. He placed the helmet on Threepio's head, and the droid turned to him, looking somehow forlorn in the bulky clothing. Han tried to think of some way to get Threepio to stop worrying. "You're a protocol droid, and if you really want to be helpful, you'll help me figure out how to get Leia to fall in love with me."
"Ah," Threepio said, obviously excited by the idea. "Don't concern yourself, sir, I'm sure I'll think of something."
"Good, good," Han said, and he walked up the gangplank just as Leia came out with a pack and rifle.
As he turned the corner, he could hear Threepio telling Leia, "My, have you noticed how dashing King Solo looks tonight? He's incredibly handsome, don't you think?"
"Oh, shut up," Leia snarled.
Han chuckled, got his pack, a heavy blaster rifle, an inflatable tent, infrared goggles, and a handful of grenades that he thought might be especially effective if he tossed them down a giant predator's throat. Then he walked outside, and they raised the gangplank, sealed the Falcon , and headed into the dark woods where moonlight silvered the white bark of trees. Overhanging branches left the grass and underbrush highlighted in a patchwork where light furtively played tag with the shadows.
The woods smelled clean, the way that they will in early summer when the sap is still fresh, the leaves new, and summer dryness puts a halt to the decay of leaf mold. And yet, despite the calming familiarity of the woods, Han felt keenly aware that he was on an alien world. Gravity here was too light, adding a springiness to his step, a feeling of power, near invincibility. Perhaps, he thought, the low gravity had led to the evolution of larger creatures on the planet. On such worlds, the circulatory systems of large animals did not become strained, bones did not snap under their own weight. But Han could feel the alienness in the treestoo tall and willowy thin, rising eighty meters above, swaying in the warm night air.
They saw little in the way of animals. A few piglike rodents in the underbrush scurried away when they got nearbarreling through the foliage so fast that Han joked that they must have had hyperdrive units built into their posteriors.
They hiked for three hours, and at the top of a barren mountain pass where rocks broke through a thin skin of grass, they took a breather and looked out toward their destination, the halo of a lighted city. Brown clouds had blown in, and blue-purple lightning crackled and flashed in the distance. As the thunder rolled over the shoulders of the mountains, it sounded almost like the roar of ancient cannons.
"It looks like a thunderstorm heading our way," Leia said. "We'd better hurry down off this ridge and put up a shelter."
Han studied the clouds for a moment, dark blue lightning suddenly flicking like a strobe. "Not a thunderstorm, more like a dust storm or a sandstorm maybe, blowing up out of the desert." It seemed odd for the storm to be all concentrated in one place, as if a giant tornado had blown in from the desert and now was dropping its weight here at the feet of the mountains.
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, I don't want to get caught in it," Leia said, and they scurried down the ridge, scree sliding under their feet.
Once under the canopy of trees again, Han somehow felt more secure. They picked a campsite beside a fallen tree, among myriad boulders washed smooth by a mountain stream. The size of the bouldersmany of them taller than a mangave mute testimony to the ferocity of the floods that must have washed through here during the rainy season. Camping there didn't seem wise with a storm on its way, but it was a calculated risk. The huge boulders all around gave Han a sense of security. A person could easily hide here in case of an attack.
They set their tents, ate a light meal from their packs and sterilized some water. "You and Chewie take the first watch," Han said, throwing Threepio a blaster rifle.
The droid fumbled with the weapon. "But sir, you know that my programming doesn't allow me to harm a living organism."
"If you see anything, just shoot at its feet and make a lot of noise," Han said, and he went to sleep. He planned to lie on his air mattress and think a while, but he was so tired that he just swirled away into blackness.
Only moments later, it seemed, he woke to the sound of blaster fire shattering rocks and Threepio shouting excitedly, "Yoohoo, General Solo, I need you! Waaake uhuuup! I need you!"
Han grabbed his blaster and jumped out of his tent just as Leia climbed out of her own. Something big and metal creaked. Not a dozen meters away stood an Imperial walker, a scouting vessel with a two-person crew. It perched on a rock like some long-legged, steel bird, twin blaster cannons aimed at Han and Leia. Han wondered dimly how in the world it could have sneaked up on the droid.
Within the carrier, shielded behind transparisteel, the pilot and his gunner watched, their faces dimly lit green by their control panels. The pilot raised a mike, shouted in a gravelly voice. "You two, drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads!"
Han swallowed hard, looked around. There was no sign of Chewbacca with his bowcaster. "Uh, is there some kind of problem here?" Han asked. "We were just out for a little fishing expedition. I do have a license."
The pilot and gunner looked at each other. That split second was enough. Han grabbed Leia's arm and jerked her away, jumped behind a boulder for cover, fired at the transparisteel window, hoping his blaster would pierce through and hit the pilot, or at the very least blind the gunner momentarily. The shot bounced off the window. His little hand blaster didn't have the kind of power he needed, and he realized he'd left his grenades in the tent. They crouched behind the boulder for cover.
"You two come on out of there, or we'll shoot your droid!" the pilot shouted.
"Run!" Threepio yelled. "Save yourselves!"
The gunner cut loose with a barrage of blaster fire that sent rock shards flying around Han. Ozone and dust filled the air. A fragment bounced off a boulder behind them, drove a splinter into Solo's hand. Leia leaped out the other side of the boulder, fired with her blaster rifle, jumped back for cover.
Solo searched frantically for some sign of Chewie, saw a shadow moving against the lower limbs of a silver tree, climbing stealthily. Chewie was there with his bowcaster. He crouched, fired a bolt that splattered against the Imperial walker's hull in a shower of green light. Metal screamed in protest.
The pilot tried to swivel his cockpit to look behind them. Leia jumped from her cover, fired three rapid shots into the vulnerable hydraulics assembly at the walker's lowest joint. Chunks of metal flew from the walker, and it twisted from its perch, flopped to its side. The giant metal legs kept kicking.
Han ran up to Threepio, took his heavy blaster and rushed to the windows. The walker's blaster cannons couldn't reach him. Han said, "Now, you two just crawl on out of there real slow. You aren't going anywhere in that thing, unless you're going to die."
The pilot frowned, raised his hands. The gunner popp
ed the hatch above his head, and the two crawled out. Han muscled the two so that they stood side by side, stuck the barrel of his blaster up the pilot's nose.
"This is an interdicted planet!" the gunner shouted at them. "You'd better get off!"
"Interdicted?" Leia asked. "Why?"
"The natives don't take kindly to strangers," the pilot said. Leia and Han looked at each other, and the pilot said in wonder, "You mean you didn't know?"
"We'll take our chances," Han grumbled.
"These natives don't happen to have five toes and footprints a meter long, do they?" Leia asked.
The pilot's face took on a closed look. "Lady, those are just their pets."
From the overturned walker, a voice issued over the radio "Strider seven, report your status. Verify, please is this General Han Solo you've captured?"
Chewie came from behind the shadows of a boulder, shot his bowcaster into the Imperial walker's radio, then grabbed each prisoner by the head and banged their helmets together hard enough so that the crack echoed through the woods. He growled and looked up the hill, asking them to hurry.
Leia had already begun packing the tents.
Chapter 12
When Isolder's Battle Dragon, the Song of War , prepared to drop out of hyperspace, Isolder was full of hope. Luke had managed to pilot them to Dathomir in seven days, saving ten days from the shortest route that the Hapan astrogation computers could devise! In fact, Isolder realized that he might even beat Han Solo to Dathomir.
Yet when they dropped out of hyperspace, his heart left him. Ten kilometers of shipyard docks were being guarded by two Imperial Star Destroyers and a host of ships in dock.
Automatic alarms began ringing, and all across the Battle Dragon, crew members rushed to their posts.
Luke Skywalker stood at the bridge, gazing at the view-screen. He pointed up to a Frigate that had peeled away from the docking system and was plunging into Dathomir's atmosphere, flames shooting out of its sensor towers. "There" Luke shouted, "Leia's in that burning ship!"
Isolder studied the monitor quickly. "She's on that?" Isolder said, astonished. Even with all our rush, he wondered, have we arrived only just in time to watch her crash?
"She's alive!" Luke said firmly. "And she's terrified but hopeful. I can feel it. They're going to try to land! I've got to get down there." He rushed off, heading for his fighter. Already Isolder could see dozens of old Imperial TIE fighters launching from Zsinj's Star Destroyers, pinpricks of light flaring out from their engines.
"Launch all fighters!" Isolder ordered. "Knock out that Super Star Destroyer at the docks along with anything else you can get. I want this to be messy!" The Song of War 's ion cannons opened fire as torpedoes screamed from their launch tubes. Though the Imperial Star Destroyers were three times the size and more heavily armed than a Hapan Battle Dragon, the Imperials had designed their ships using old-fashioned stationary gun emplacements. After a blaster cannon or ion cannon fired, it took several milliseconds for the cannon's giant capacitors to recharge. The net effect was that the gun was stuck idle 80 percent of the time.
Not so with the Hapan Battle Dragon. Because the Battle Dragons were designed as huge saucers and the gun emplacements rotated rapidly around the rim of the saucer, idle guns moved on to recharge while fresh guns swung into place.
Both Star Destroyers immediately retreated from the onslaught. Isolder glanced momentarily at Luke's back as the Jedi left the control deck. Though the Hapan Battle Dragon was a fearsome opponent, it would be no match for Star Destroyers once their fighters scrambled. The fighters would be able to penetrate the shielding and knock out the rotating gun emplacements after they idled. Isolder's own fighters could keep Zsinj's war birds at bay for a time, but the Hapans couldn't hold them off indefinitely.
"Captain Astarta," Isolder said, glancing at his bodyguard. "Take over the attack. I'm going down to the planet."
"My lord," Astarta objected, "my job is to protect you!"
"Then do your job well," Isolder said. "I need enough confusion to cover my escape. My mother's fleet won't be here for ten days. Warn them what to expect, and jump back into the fray with them. I'll be monitoring radio signals from the planet. If I can, I'll rendezvous with you at the first sign of your attack."
"And if you don't fly up within five minutes," Astarta choked, "then I'll kill every one of Zsinj's men in this solar system, and we'll scour this planet until we find you!"
Isolder grinned, touched her on the shoulder, then ran from the control room, down the corridors of the Song of War . So much of the ship's power was being diverted to guns that the corridor lighting had dimmed, and he made his way to the flight decks by marking the emergency light buoys. The decks were pretty much empty, the normal complement of fighters having scrambled.
Skywalker was already powering up an X-wingnot his own, Isolder noticed. A dozen launch techs were checking his guns, lowering his astrogation droid into its seat.
"Problems with your fighter?" Isolder shouted across the room.
Luke nodded. "Weapons didn't check out. Can I borrow one of yours?"
"No problem," Isolder said.
Isolder grabbed a flak jacket and helmet from their hangers and tied his own personal blaster on. The launch crew saw him and began readying his own fighter, Storm . A glowing feeling of pride stole over him when he glanced at his fighter. He'd designed and built it himself.
In one startling moment of clarity, Isolder realized that he was much like Solo, perhaps too much. Solo had his Falcon . Isolder had Storm . Both of them had worked as pirates, both loved the same strong woman. And all through the trip to Dathomir Isolder had asked himself why he was coming. His mother knew where Han had run to; the Hapan fleets could retrieve Leia. Isolder didn't need to risk his life in this senseless encounter.
But when Isolder considered it, he realized that part of him wanted to beat Solo senseless, yet he wanted something more. Solo had thrown down a challenge that Isolder could not refuse. There on the flight deck, Isolder suddenly realized he'd come to steal Leia back from Han Solo, take her away at gunpoint if he had to.
Luke settled into his fighter, and Isolder shouted, "Skywalker, I'm coming with you. I'll be watching your tail!"
Luke turned to Isolder, did not take off his helmet as he gave a thumbs-up.
With a surge of adrenaline, Isolder ran across the flight deck, leaped into Storm 's cockpit and fired up the control panel. Overhead, the flight techs battened down the transparisteel bubble as Isolder activated the turbogenerators and armed his missiles and blasters. The techs were taking extra time, rechecking his systems, and Isolder revved the generators as if he would take off, sent them scrambling for cover. Then he erupted into space.
He flipped his transponder settings to identify himself as a Hapan fighter, then screamed over the Song of War 's top saucer.
From space, he could more easily see how the battle was going the Star Destroyers had backed off in unison and spread apart so that Astarta was forced to choose one of them as a primary target. Instead, she had taken the Battle Dragon over the docks at the shipyard and had begun pummeling the helpless Super Star Destroyer that waited for repairs, doing more damage to the costly machinery in one strafing run than she could ever have accomplished in a pitched battle.
Neither of the active destroyers was hurrying to stop her.
Two of the Victory-class destroyers at the docks must have been partly operational, for TIE fighters and old Z-95 Headhunters were scrambling from their decks. The skies were littered with swarming fighters, chunks of twisted shrapnel, and scattering debris from destroyed ships.
Isolder flipped a switch on his radio, let it search the Imperial frequencies until he could hear the chatter of the enemy fighters. Luke Skywalker was already circling out past the edge of the Hapan Dragon, and Isolder followed the Jedi out, closing on his tail.
"Red One to Red Two," Luke called over the radio. "There's a lot of debris falling from the shipyard." Just as
he spoke, a kilometer-long section of scaffolding took a hit, went spinning down into the gravity well while other segments blew out of orbit. "I'm going to shut off my engines and follow some of it down in a minute. But before I do, I want to take out a couple of enemy fighters."
Isolder considered a moment. He and Luke couldn't land without being detected. He'd have to eject, then let his ship crash.
"I'm right with you, Red One," Isolder answered.
Luke accelerated to attack speed, spun out toward a phalanx of twenty incoming Headhunters that glowed red on the scopes like flaming gems. Isolder followed at his right wing, put double power to the front shields, listened to the Headhunters' chatter strategic codes over the Imperial bands. He hit his jammers, and the Headhunters went silent. He checked his head-up display, noticed something odd, called out, "Lukeyour deflector shields aren't up!"
The Headhunters' jammers shot static at him, and Isolder shouted again, "Luke, your shields!"
Through the crackling static, Isolder heard Luke shout, "My shields are up!"
"No," Isolder shouted. "Your shields are not up!" but Luke threw a thumbs-up sign, trying to calm Isolder, and then the Zebra Headhunters were on them, blaster fire lighting up the skies. Isolder picked a target, fired simultaneously with ion guns and a homing missile, twisted his stick abruptly to the right. From the corner of his eye he watched Skywalker take a hit to the top-right wing, fall into a spin, simultaneously take a hit to the front sensor array. Skywalker's ship began tumbling through space, breaking apart, and the astrogation droid was hurled from the vehicle. The Headhunter in front of Isolder exploded, and four or five blaster shots hit Isolder's front deflectors. The shields collapsed. Isolder couldn't take another run.
Luke rattled around in his falling ship, thrown against the transparisteel like a doll. Isolder silently prayed, then aimed his life-sensors at the cockpit. Nothing. Skywalker was dead.
Isolder cursed, and knew that he could do nothing now but feign his own death. He ejected a thermal detonator out the back of his ship, counted to one. A brilliant explosion pierced the sky behind him, and he flipped off his transponder, powered down, and let the Storm drift and fall beside Luke's ship. The explosion should have fooled the enemy sensors, and with a pitched battle going on, Zsinj's men wouldn't have time to check the wreckage too closely.
Star Wars - The Courtship of Princess Leia Page 12