by Alex Wheeler
"We're bothering you?" Han asked incredulously. "Hey, easy solution, just let us walk out of here, we'll never bother you again."
"We came for something that belongs to us." Leia spoke over Han's blustering. "Luunim was holding a datacard of financial access codes. It's ours, and we believe you confiscated it along with the rest of his valuables. We'd like it back, please." She sounded like she was making an official request in the Senatorial chambers, rather than begging something of her captor as she cowered in his dungeon.
Kenuun nodded. "Yes, I have taken possession of Luunim's financial records. It's likely I have what you're looking for. And of course, if it belongs to you, I have no right to hold it. Except…"
"Except?" Han repeated. "Except is never good."
Chewbacca grumbled in agreement.
"Except that you took something of mine. Something of great value."
"We've taken nothing from you," Luke insisted.
"To the contrary, you took one of my most prized possessions," Kenuun argued. "I believe you knew him by the name of Grunta?"
"That was self-defense!" Luke protested. "He ambushed us."
"I'm sure he did," Kenuun said. "Getting into trouble was one of Grunta's few talents. It's the reason I had him shadowed by a homing droid—lucky thing, or I might never have found the beings who killed him."
So the guards weren't after us, Luke thought. They were after the Dug.
"The Muuns are honorable beings," Kenuun said. "And I would be happy to return your possession to you—once you replace mine."
"And just how are we supposed to replace your pet Dug?" Han asked.
"By doing his job for him. Grunta may have had many failings, but he was an excellent Podracer. And in the Podrace two days hence, he was about to earn me a rather large sum of money."
"Podracing is illegal," Leia said. "Half the racers end up dead."
"Indeed. Poor Grunta was probably lucky to live as long as he did. And certainly this was a more pleasant way to go." The Muun crossed his long, slender arms. "Be that as it may, the race goes on. One of you will take Grunta's spot in the race. And you will win. I'll receive my money, you'll receive your datacard."
"How do we know you'll keep your end of the bargain?" Luke asked.
Kenuun looked offended. "I'm a Muun," he said. "There's nothing more sacred to my people than keeping our word in financial dealings."
"It's true," Han pointed out. "Muuns'll take you for everything you've got, but they never cheat."
"It's irrelevant," Elad snapped. "No human can win a Podrace. The best of human pilots would be lucky to even finish the race without crashing. And since I don't think the Wookiee is up to the task…"
"One of you will enter the race," Kenuun said again, unmoved. "You will win. Then and only then, the datacard will be yours."
"Unless we die trying," Han added.
The Muun nodded at the two stormtroopers who flanked him on either side. They raised their blasters, aiming them toward the prisoners. "There are many ways to die," he said serenely. "And as you knew Mak Luunim, you know what happens to beings who choose not to repay their debts to me."
"We'll do it," Luke said. "We'll race, and we'll win. We accept your bargain."
Leia shot him an alarmed look. "Have you ever seen a Podrace?" she asked. "It's certain death."
Luke had seen several Podraces—Tatooine was one of the few places left in the galaxy where the illegal sport still flourished. He knew that no human had the reflexes to compete. No ordinary human, at least.
But he also knew that they had no choice.
And that when it came to flying, he was far from ordinary.
"We'll do it," he repeated. "I'll do it."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The dead Dug's Podracer was a top of the line Collor Pondrat Plug-2 Behemoth, with a top speed of 790 kilometers per hour. According to Nal Kenuun, it also had a modified traction system and an upgraded throttle. Its bulky engines were streaked with elaborate green and yellow flames, while the cockpit was painted an angry red, with a green "K" stenciled on either side.
Kenuun's guards had taken them to an empty, barren area a hundred kilometers outside of the city. A network of cavernous cliffs loomed to one side, while on the other, there was nothing in sight but flat, weedy ground stretching to the horizon. Tents had been erected to house the other Podracers and their crews. It would be a small, elite race, with only five other racers. They had all arrived and were pretending to studiously polish and tweak their engines. But it was obvious they were all watching the newest entrant to the race.
Luke folded himself into the narrow seat, which had been custom designed for a creature significantly shorter than he was. Leia winced as he banged his knees hard against the steering controls.
"You look like a Wookiee trying to squeeze inside a gartro nest, kid," Han joked.
Leia shushed him—but she had to admit it was true. Kenuun had given them a choice of Podracers, but all were equally unsuited for a driver of Luke's size. Podracing just wasn't designed for humans. She didn't know very much about the sport, but Elad had explained that the top racers often sped through a course at more than 900 kilometers per hour. Human reflexes weren't fast enough to take a hairpin turn at that kind of speed.
And then there was the size issue. Podracers were vehicles only in the most technical sense of the term. Leia had never seen one close up before, and she still couldn't believe this heap of loosely connected engine parts was supposed to take Luke through the race course. The tiny repulsorlift cockpit was connected by long, flexible cables to the two massive engines. Because the frame was so unstable, it was easily unbalanced. This was why most racers were less than one meter tall. The less weight in the cockpit, the less chance there was that the Podracer would flip over, dumping its driver.
In challenging courses, this happened to even the most experienced of drivers.
And Luke, by his own admission, had no experience at all.
"You sure you understand the controls?" Leia asked nervously, as Luke prepared to ignite the engines and take off for his first practice run. The droids stood by her side, freshly polished and buffed—Kenuun had treated them somewhat better than his human prisoners. "I'm sure one of the other Podracers would—"
"I know what I'm doing," Luke said irritably. "It's just like flying anything else, right?"
"Just hold on tight, kid," Han advised. "No need to go too fast your first time out."
Chewbacca let out a long growl.
"Well let's hope he knows not to do that," Han told the Wookiee. "Be a shame for him to crash before the race even starts."
Luke sighed. "I was the best pilot in Mos Eisley," he reminded them, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. His knees were nearly grazing his chin. "And I'm the only one of us who's actually seen a Podrace. I know what I'm doing."
Before they could say anything else, the Podracer lifted off, a violet current crackling between the engines. Luke waved, and the Podracer sped away, so fast it was soon nothing but a smear of red against the grayish sky.
The engines twisted and wobbled alarmingly as Luke struggled to maintain the balance. The cockpit swung from side to side, then dipped forward, plummeting toward the ground.
"He can't control it!" Leia gasped, peering through her electrobinoculars.
"He'll be fine," Han assured her. "The kid knows what he's doing." But he didn't sound convinced.
"I hate to suggest this," Elad said, "but it might be time to start thinking about a backup plan. If Luke can't pull this off…"
He was only saying what she herself had been thinking, but something in Leia rebelled at his words. "Luke is the best pilot I've ever met," she said fiercely.
"Hey!" Han protested.
"The best," Leia repeated. "He just needs practice. He'll be fine."
Elad raised his eyebrows. "The best you've ever met?" He peered into the distance. The Podracer's cockpit was bouncing furiously over air pockets. Thanks to his erratic steering, Luke
was battling his own turbulence. "Even if he wins the race, Kenuun could still double cross us. Perhaps we should think about—"
"We'll proceed with the current plan," Leia said sharply, cutting off all further discussion. She may have let Elad accompany them on their mission, but she wasn't about to cede control. "I have faith in Luke."
The Podracer listed precariously to the right side as it returned toward them. A burst of orange flame exploded from the right engine.
"He's overheating!" Han shouted, running toward the Podracer.
With one engine dead, steering was impossible. The Podracer shot into an out of control spin. The engines whirled wildly around the cockpit. Suddenly, the Podracer tilted vertically, and shot straight up in the air.
"Luke!" Leia cried, taking off after Han. The Podracer flipped upside down and screamed into a dive. It was nearly a kilometer up in the air when a tiny figure toppled out of the cockpit.
An endless moment later, Luke's chute inflated. He drifted slowly to the ground. The Podracer rocketed downward, hitting the ground with a deafening crash. It exploded on impact, gushing a fiery spray of fuel and shorn metal into the air.
Luke wrapped himself in the chute and rolled away from the crash site, trying to shield himself from the falling debris. Leia and the others had almost reached him when one of the slim, fiery strips of durasteel landed on his chute.
The parachute burst into flames.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luke was a ball of fire. Han slapped his coat at the burning parachute, trying to smother the flames.
"Roll over!" he shouted. Luke started rolling across the dirt. Slowly—too slowly—the flames flickered out.
The parachute was an ashen, blackened mess. The body hidden beneath lay motionless.
"Luke?" Leia said quietly, her voice filled with terror. "Luke!"
He moved.
Luke threw off the charred chute. His face was sooty and his body covered by sandy abrasions, but he was alive. He stood up. "I'm okay," he said, stretching his limbs one at a time to make sure it was true. "I'm okay."
A flood of relief washed over Han. "Close one, kid," he said, trying to keep his voice light. If Luke had fallen from the Podracer any sooner, or any later…If his chute had malfunctioned, or if the armorweave hadn't protected him from the flames…
Did Luke understand how close he'd come to the end? Han watched as Luke's horrified gaze took in the simmering ruins of the Podracer.
He understood.
"The engine flamed out," Luke said, taking a few hesitant steps. "Must have been a defective current filter. I should have had Artoo double check it before I took off. Next time I'll know better."
"Next time?" Leia shook her head. "Luke, there's not going to be a next time. You almost died. The Podracers destroyed."
"Kenuun wants to win this race—he'll give us another one," Luke said confidently.
"And is he going to give us another one of you?"
"Give him a break, Princess." Han slung an arm around Luke. "The kid doesn't even know what he's saying."
Luke shrugged him off. "Yes I do. And a faulty current filter's not going to stop us from completing this mission. The Rebellion needs us to win this race."
The Rebellion needs you to live, Han thought.
But he kept his mouth shut.
* * *
Eventually, Luke got his way. Leia and Elad met with Kenuun in hopes of laying their hands on a second Podracer. The Muun had a hangar full of them—it seemed likely he'd be willing to produce another.
Han took Luke back to their makeshift campsite to rest. There were less than twenty-four hours to go before the race, and Luke knew every second counted. But he couldn't practice without a Podracer—and he had to admit, resting sounded good. His shoulder and back throbbed from the fall, and a deep series of scrapes along his back flared with pain wherever his shirt brushed the skin.
It could have been worse, he reminded himself. Much worse.
"Whatcha thinking?" Han asked, as they sat in front of their tent, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. A few of the Podracers swooped back and forth in the distance, getting in one more run before race day.
"I would've had it," Luke said. "I was getting control. If the engine hadn't flamed out—I would've had it."
"I know, kid," Han said.
Luke looked at him in surprise. "You do?"
Han shrugged. "Sure. Don't forget, I saw you take on the Death Star. I know what you can do."
"Maybe," Luke said. He'd been doing his best to act confident—but it was just that. An act. He had to convince the others that he could fly the Podracer. It was the only way they'd go along with the plan. But Luke had seen a Podrace. He knew how fast the racers traveled, how challenging even a familiar course could be. How even in the best of circumstances, things could go wrong.
And when things went wrong in a Podrace, they went very wrong.
"You don't have to do this, you know," Han said, as if he could hear Luke's thoughts. "I wouldn't."
"I have to," Luke said. "It's the only way. And I know I can win. At least…if the Force is with me."
"Just how big an 'if' are we talking here?" Han asked.
Luke drew his lightsaber. Instead of activating the beam, he just cradled the hilt in his hands. He found the heft of the cool metal comforting. A reminder of the person he was supposed to be. "I can't control it," Luke admitted. "The harder I try, the more impossible it seems."
"You know I don't think much of this Force of yours," Han began.
Luke sighed. He wasn't in the mood. "Can we just—"
"Slow down, kid," Han said. "Let me finish." He frowned at the lightsaber. "I think most of it's a bunch of mumbo jumbo, and if you ask me, that Ben of yours was a few sabacc cards short of a deck. But—" He held up a hand to stop Luke from interrupting again. "He was a tough old guy. And he had…I don't know. Call it the Force, call it whatever you want. I saw him take on Vader—and that was something."
"Something, maybe. But not enough." Luke closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the image of Vader's red beam striking that final, fatal blow.
"He knew what he was doing," Han said. "He could have run away, saved himself, sure. But he wasn't trying to save himself. He was trying to save you. And he got you off that ship."
Luke shook his head. "But that's just it. He sacrificed himself for me, so I could become a Jedi Knight—but I can't! Not without him. I can't use the Force, not when I need it. I let him down."
"So quit."
Luke scowled. "I can't do that. I'm not—" He stopped himself.
"Me?" Han smiled wryly. "Thanks for the compliment."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Right." Han got serious. "I don't mean you should quit the fight. I mean you should quit trying so hard. Look, I may not know about this Jedi stuff, but I know ships, and I know flying. And what I know is that you've got to trust your ship. Let her tell you what she needs. The best pilots become part of their ships. And that's not something you try to do. You just do it. You've got to relax. Let it happen."
Let go of your conscious self, Ben had urged him. Act on instinct.
Maybe Han knew more about the Jedi way than he thought.
Han stood up, giving Luke a light slap on the back. "And when I say the best pilots, kid, I'm talking about you. Oh, one more thing."
"What?" Luke asked.
Han grinned. "Next time, try not to fall out."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Han gulped down his second glass of lum. Chewbacca handed him another. They'd left Luke back at the campsite to study the map of the race circuit. Most of the other Podracers and their crew were crowded into a large tent, swigging drinks and swapping stories, and no one seemed to mind Han's presence. The noise helped drown out his thoughts.
When he'd left Luke, the kid had seemed more certain than ever that he could handle the Podrace. Thanks to you, he'd told Han. Now I know I can do it.
Han jus
t wished he could be so sure.
And he wished that Luke had never said that: Thanks to you. Because now if something went wrong, Han would know exactly who to blame.
"Thought I'd find you two here," Elad said, pushing his way through the crowd to join Han and Chewbacca.
"Any luck with Kenuun?" Han asked.
"One Keizar-Volvec KV9T9-B Wasp, with a top speed of 800 km per hour and a fully functioning current filter. Luke's testing it out right now—he didn't want an audience."
Han just grunted, and took another swallow of his lum. It was watery and lukewarm, but it did the trick.
"Leia's keeping an eye on him," Elad added.
"Kid's going to be fine," Han mumbled. "We should all just relax."
Elad nodded, but said nothing.
A Phlog appeared before them, his thick, greenish finger exploring the innards of his bulbous nose. "Rumor has it, you're the folks who killed Grunta," he growled.
Elad and Han exchanged a look. Chewbacca issued a warning growl. Han knew the prudent thing to do was deny it and walk away. That's what Leia would have advised.
"Rumor's right," Han said.
The Phlog yanked his finger out of his nose, used it to stir his drink, then gulped the lum down in one shot. "Hey, these are the guys who killed Grunta!" he shouted to the crowd.
All noise and motion immediately ceased. Every face turned toward Han, Elad, and Chewbacca.
Uh-oh, Han thought. But he was almost looking forward to a fight.
The crowd exploded into cheers. The Phlog slapped Han on the back and ordered another round of drinks. His treat.
"I'm guessing Grunta wasn't a friend of yours?" Han asked, starting to get the picture.
"That piece of bantha slime?" The Phlog spit out a wad of purple phlegm. It spattered on the ground inches from Han's boots. He held out a massive, sticky hand for Han to shake. "Haari Ikreme Beeerd, at your service," he said. "Any enemy of Grunta is a friend to us all."
"You a Podracer?" Elad asked.
The Phlog shook his head, gesturing at his massive bulk. He was three times the size of an average Podracer. "Crew—for Gilag Pitaaani over there." He pointed across the tent to a stubby Nuknog who was crushing a bottle of fizzbrew against his knobby skull. "We race for the Muun Chenik Kruun." Haari Ikreme unleashed a rapid string of chokes and coughs that Han suspected might be laughter. "A cold-blooded, emotionless sand snake if I ever saw one, but when he heard about Grunta's death, he nearly smiled. Nothing would make him happier than beating Nal Kenuun."