Star Wars - [Han Solo Adventures 01] - Han Solo at Stars End (by Brian Daley)

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Han Solo Adventure Trilogy

Han Solo At Stars End 2

Chapter 1

ITS a warship all fight. Damn!

Instrument panels in the Millennium Falcons cock-pit were alive with trouble lights, warning flashers, and

the beeps and hoots of the sensor package. Read-out screens were feeding combat-information displays

at high speed.

Han Solo, crouched forward in the pilots seat, coolly flicking his eyes from instrument to screen, hast-fly

assessed his situation. His lean, youthful face creased in a frown of concern. Beyond the cockpit canopy,

the surface of the planet Duroon drew stead-fly nearer. Somewhere below and astern, a heavily armed

vessel had detected the Falcons presence and was now homing in to challenge her. That the warship had,

in fact, picked up the Millennium Falcon first was a matter of no small worry to Hah; the ability to come

and go without attracting notice, especially of. ficial notice, was vital to a smuggler.

He began relaying fire-control data to the ships weapons systems. Charge main batteries, Chewie, he

said, not taking his eyes from his part of the con-sole, and shields-all. Were in prohibited space; cant let

era take us or identify the ship. Particularly, he added to himself, with the cargo were hauling.

To his right, Chewbacca the Wooldee made a sound halfway between a grunt and a bark, his furry

fingers darting to his controls with sure dexterity, his large, hairy form hunched in the oversized coptlots

seat. Wooldee-style, he showed his fierce fighting teeth as he rapidly surrounded the starship wth layers

of de-fensive energy. At the same time, he brought the Fal-cons offensive weaponry up to its maximum

charge.

Bracing his ship for battle, Han berated himseN for ever having taken on this job. Hed known full well it

could take him into conflict with the Corporate Sector Authority, in the middle of a steer-clear area.

The Authority ships approach left Han and Chew-bacca just seconds for a clutch decision abort the

mission and head for parts unknown, or try to pull off their delivery anyway. Hah surveyed his console,

hop-ing for a clue, or a hit off the Cosmic Deck.

The other ship wasnt gaining. In fact, the Falcon was pulling away. Sensors gauged the mass,

arma-ments, and thrust of their pursuer and Hah made his best guess. Chewie, I dont think thats a ship of

the line; looks more like a bul job, with augmentative weapons. She mustve just lifted off when she got

wind of us. Hell, dont those guys have anythin8 better to do? But it figured; the one major Authorit

installa-tion on Duroon, the only one with a full-dress port layout, was on the far side of the globe, where

the dawn line would just be lightening gray sky. Han had planned his landing for a spot as far away from

the port as possible, in the middle of the night-side.

We take her down, he decided. If the Falcon could shake her follower, Hah and Chewbacca could

make their drop and, with the luck of the draw, es-cape.

The Wookiee gave a grumpy growl, black nostrils flaring, tongue curling. Han glared at him. You got a

better idea? Its a little late to part company, isnt it? He took the converted freighter into a steep dive,

throwing away altitude in return for increased veloc-ity, heading deeper into Duroons umbra.

The Authority vessel, conversely, slowed even more, cllmbing through the planets atmosphere, trad-ing

speed for altitude in an attempt to keep the MiUennium Falcon under sensor surveillance. Han ig-nored

the Authoritys broadcast order to halt; tele-spenders that should have automatically given his starships

identity in response to official inquiry had been disconnected long ago.

Hold deflector shields at full capacity, he ordered. Im taking her down to the deck; we dont want our

skins cooked off. The Wookiee complied, to shed thermal energy generated by the Falcons rapid

pas-sage through the atmosphere. The starships controls trembled as she began to buck the denser air.

Han worked to put the planet between himseft and the Authority vessel.

This he soon accomplished, as indicators registered increased heat from the friction of the freighters dive.

Between watching sensors and looking through the canopy, Han quickly found his first landmark, a

vol-canically active crevasse that ran on an east-west axis, like a stupendous, burning scar on the flesh of

Duroon. He brought the Falcon out of her swoop, her control systems rebelling against the immense

strain. He lev-eled off only meters above the planets surface.

Lets see them track us now, he said, self-satisfied. Chewbacca snorted The meaning of the snort was

clearmthis was temporary cover only. There was little danger of being detected either optically or by

instrument over this seam in Duroons surface, for the Falcon would be lost against a background of

fer-rons slag, infernal heat, and radioactive discord. But neither could she remain there for long.

In the vivid orange light of the fissure that illumi-nated the cockpit, Hah conceded that fact. At best, hed

broken trail so the Authority ship would be una-ble to spot the Falcon should the pursuer gain enough

altitude to bring her back into sensor range. He poured on as much airspeed as he dared in an effort to

keep Duroons mass between him.gelf and the vessel hunting him while he sought his landing site. He

cursed the fact that there were no proper navigational beacons; this was seat-of-the-pants flying, and no

chance of leaning out the cockpit and stopping a pass-erby for directions.

In minutes the ship had neared the western end of the fissure. Han was compelled to dump some

veloc-ity; it was time to look for road signs. He reviewed the instructions given him; instructions hed

committed to memory alone. Off to the south a gigantic mountain range loomed. He banked the Falcon

sharply to port, slapped a pair of switches, and bore straight for the mountains.

The ships special Terrain Following Sensors came on. Han kept the freighters bow close above a surface

of cooled lava and occasional active rifts, minor off-spring of the great fissure. For whatever small edge it

might give against detection, he trimmed the Falcon off at virtual landing altitude, screaming over eddied

volcanic fiatlands. Anybody down there better duck, he advised, keeping one eye pinned to the Terrain

Following Sensors. They bleeped, having located the mountain pass for which hed been searching. He

ad-justed course.

Funny. His information said the break in the moun-tains was plenty wide for the Falcon, but it looked

mighty narrow on the TFS. For a second he debated going for altitude fast, hurdling the high peaks, but

that just might put him back onto the Authoritys scopes. He was too close to his delivery point, and a

payday, to risk having to cut and run. The moment of option passed. He shed more airspeed, committed

now to taking the pass at low level.

Sweat collected on his forehead and dampened his shirt and vest. Chewbacca uttered his low rumble of

utmost concentration as both partners synched to the running of the Millennium Falcon. The image of the

pass on the TFS grew no more encouraging.

Han tightened his grip on the controls, feeling the press of his flying gloves against them. Pass, nothing

---that things a slot! Hold your breath, Chewie; well have to skin through.

He threw himself into a grim battle with his ship. Chewbacca caterwauled his dislike for all

unconven-tional maneuvers as he cut in braking thrusters, but even those would not be enough to avert

disaster. The slot began to take on shape, a slightly lighter area of sky lit by bright stars and one of

Duroons three moons, set off by the silhouette of the mountains. It was, just barely, too narrow.

The starship took some altitude, and her speed slackened. Those extra seconds gave Han time to pi-lot

for his life, calling on razor-edge reflexes and in-stincfive skills that had seen him through scrapes all

across the galaxy. He killed all shields, since theyd have struck rock and overloaded, and wrenched his

controls, standing the Millennium Falcon on her port-side. Sheer crags closed in on either side, so that

the roar of the freighters engines rebounded from the cliffs. He made minute corrections, staring at rock

walls that seemed to be coming at him through the canopy, and rattled off a string of expletives having

nothing whatsoever to do with piloting.

There was a slight jar, and the shriek of metal torn away as easily as paper. The long-range sensors

winked out; the dish had been ripped off the upper hull by a protrusion of rock. Then the needles eye

was threaded sideways, and the Falcon was through the mountains.

Perspiration beading his face, dampening his light

brown hair, Hah pounded Chewbacca. Whatd I tell

you? Inspirations my specialtyV

The starship soared over the thick jungle that be-gan beyond the mountains. Han leveled off, wiping a

gloved hand across his brow. Chewbacca emitted a sustained growl. I agree, Han replied soberly in the

wake of his elation. That was a stupid place to put a mountain. He took up scanning for the next

land-mark and spied it almost at once a winding river. The Falcon skimmed in low over the watery coils

as the Wookiee lowered the ships landing gear.

In seconds theyd reached the landing area near a spectacular waterfall that dropped two hundred meters

to the river in a flume like a blue-white, ghostly scrim under stars and moonlight. Han, reading the TFS,

found a clearing in the heavy cover of vegetation and settled the ship slowly. The broad disks of the

landing gear sank a bit in soft humus; then the hydrolics sighed briefly as the Millennium Falcon made

herself comfortable.

Han and Chewbacca sat at their controls for a mo-ment, too drained to do more. Outside the cockpit

canopy, the jungle was an irregular darkness, tangles of indefatigable growth topped by a roof of fernlike

plants that stretched up twenty meters and more. Gauzy grou nd fog rolled through the undergrowth and

clearing.

The Wookiee gave a long, gusty, bass-register ex-halation. I couldnt have said it better, Han con-curred.

Lets get at it. Both removed headsets and left their seats. Chewbacca picked up his crossbow weapon

and a bandolier of metal ammo containers, which also supported a floppy carryall pouch at his hip. Han

already wore his side arm, a custom-model blaster with rear-fitted macroscope, its front sight blade filed

off to facilitate the speed draw. His hol-ster was worn low, tied down at the thigh, cut so that it exposed

the weapons trigger and trigger guard.

According to directories, Duroons atmosphere would support humanoid life without respirators. The two

smugglers moved directly to the ships ramp. The hatch rolled up and the ramp lowered silently, letting in

smells of plant growth, of rotting vegetation, of hot, humid night and animal danger. The jungle was filled

with sounds, calls, clacks, and cries of prey and pred-ator, and, over all, with the monumental spillage of

the waterfall.

Now its up to them to find us, Han said. Check-ing the jungle, he saw no sign of life. Not surprising. The

freighters landing had probably frightened most wildlife out of the area. He turned to his shaggy first

mate/copilot/partner. Ill wait for them. Turn off sensors, shut down the engines, the works; kill all

sys-tems so the Authority cant spot us. Then see how much structural damage she suffered topside when

she got her back scratched.

Chewbacca barked acknowledgment and shambled off. Han stripped off his flying gloves, tucked them in

his belt, and stepped down the ramp, which stretched down and out from the ships starboard side, astern

the cockpit. He thumbed his guns sights to set it for night shooting, then glanced around. A lean young

man dressed in spacemans high boots, dark uniform trousers with red piping, and civilian shirt and vest,

Han had cast aside his uniform tunic, stripped of its rank and insignia, years ago.

He ran a quick check of the Falcons underside, as-suring him.self that she had taken no damage there

and that the landing gear had come to rest properly. He also made certain that the interrupter-templates

had automatically slid into place along the servo-guides for the belly turret, so that the quad-mounted

guns wouldnt accidentally blow away the landing gear or ramp if he had to fire them while the ship was

grounded.

Satisfied, he wsnt back to the foot of the ramp. He gazed up at the empty sky and the stars beyond,

thinking Let the Authority look for me; this whole part o! Duroons spotted with hot springs, thermal

vents, heavy-metal magma seepages, and radiation anomalies. ltd take them a month to find me, and in an

hour or three, Ill be gone like a cool breeze.

He sat at the end of the ramp, wishing for a mo-ment that hed brought along something to drink; there

was a flask of ancient, vacuum-distilled jet juice un-der the cockpit console. But he didnt feel like going

for it. Besides, he still had business to conduct.

Duroons nocturnal life forms began reappearing in the mossy clearing. Lacy white things swam through

the air with ripples of their thin bodies, resembling flying doilies, while nearby fern-trees held creatures

that looked like bundles of straw, making their slow way along the wide fronds. Han kept an eye on them

but doubted theyd approach the alien mass of his starship.

As he watched, a smallish green sphere sailed out of the undergrowth in a high arc, landing with a boink.

It appeared perfecfiy smooth at first, but then extruded an eyelike bump that studied the Falcon with

jerky motions. But when it noticed the pilot, it flinched. The eye-bump disappeared, and the sphere things

underside compressed. With another boink the thing bounced away into the jungle.

Han returned to his musing as he listened to Chew-baeca tramping around on the ships upper hull. The

unfamiliar constellations here were how many light-years from the planet of Hafts birth? He couldnt even

make a close guess.

Being a smuggler and a flyer-for-hire had its dan-gers, and those he accepted with a philosophical shrug.

But a run into a prohibited sector with a cargo that would earn him a summary execution if caught, those

were different table stakes altogether.

The Corporate Sector was one wisp off one branch at the end of one arm of the galaxy, but that wisp

contained tens of thousands of star systems, and not one native, intelligent species was to be found

any-where. No one was sure why. Han had heard that neutrino research showed abnormalities in the

solar convective layers of every sun hereabout, something that might have spread like a virus among the

stars in this isolated sector.

In any case, the Corporate Sector Authority had been chartered to exploit-some called it plunder- the

uncountable riches here. The Authority was owner, employer, landlord, government, and military. Its

wealth and influence eclipsed that of all but the richest Imperial Regions, and the Authority spent much of

its time and energy insulating itself from out-side interference. Competition, it had none; but that didnt

make the Corporate Sector Authority any less jealous or vindictive. Any outside ship found off

es-tablished trade corridors was fair game for the Au-thoritys warships, which were manned by its feared

Security Police.

But what do you do, Han asked himself, when your backs to the wall? How could he have said no to a

nice, lucrative run when usurious Ploovo Two-For-One described the riches that were to be had.

I could always hit the beach, he thought. Find a nice planet somewhere, go native. Its a big galaxy.

But he shook his head. No use fooling himself. If he were grounded, he might as well be dead. What

could one planet, any planet, offer someone who had knocked around among the stars? The need for the

boundless provinces of space was now a part of him.

And so when, broke and in debt, he and Chew-bacca had been approached for a run deep into

Au-thority steer-clear territory, theyd jumped at the job. In spite of all the perils and uncertainties, the run

still let them raise ship again and experience the freedom of star-travel. Risk of death or capture had

been, in their eyes, the lesser of two evils.

But that brought up another point. The Authority ship had somehow picked up the Millennium Falcon

before her own sensors had detected the other. No doubt the Security Police had something new in the

way of detection equipment, thereby making Hans and Chewbaccas lives more complicated by an order

of ten. This situation would require immediate future attention.

Han kept a close watch on the jungle around him wishing he could have left the ships floodlights on. So,

when a voice at his side announced, We are here, he twisted around with a yelp, his blaster ap-pearing in

his fist as if conjured there.

A creature, barely out of anns reach, was calmly standing next to the ramp. It was almost Hans height, a

biped, with a downy, globular torso and short arms and legs boasting more joints than a humans. Its head

was small, but equipped with large, unblinking eyes. Its mouth and throat were a loose, pouchy affair; its

scent was the scent of the jungle.

That, Han grumbled, recovering his composure and putting his blaster away, is a good way to get

yourself roasted.

The creature ignored the sarcasm. You have brought what we need?

Ive got cargo for you. Beyond that, I know zero, which is the way I want it. If you came alone, youve got

your work cut out for you.

The creature turned and made an eerie, piping noise. Figures seemed to grow up out of the ground,

dozens of them, motionless, regarding the pilot and his ship with silent gazes. They held short objects of

some sort, which he assumed to be weapons.

Then he heard a growl from above. Stepping for-ward, Han looked up and saw Chewbacca standing out

on one of the ships bow mandibles, covering the newcomers with his bowcaster. Han gave a signal. His

hairy first mate put up the bowcaster and headed back inboard.

Times wasting, Han told the creature. It moved toward the Falcon, taking its companions with it. Han

stopped them with upheld hands. Not the whole choir, friend. Just you, for starters. The first one

bur-bled to its fellows and came on alone.

Inside the ship, Chewbacca had turned up the blackout lights to a minimal glow in strategic parts of the

interior. The towering Wooldee was already draw-ing cover plates off the hidden compartments,

con-cealed and shielded to be undetectable, under the deck near the ramp. Into this space, where he and

Han usually hid whatever contraband they were car-rying, Chewbacca lowered himself to stand with his

waist at deck level. Releasing clamps and strapping, the Wooldee began lifting out heavy oblong cases,

the huge muscles beneath his fur bulging with effort.

Han pulled the end of a case around and broke its seals. Within the crate weapons lay stacked. They had

been so treated that no part of them reflected any of the scant light. Han took one up, checked its charge,

made sure the safety was on, then handed it to the creature.

The firearm was a carbine-short, lightweight, un-complicated. Like all the others in the shipment, this one

was fitted with a simple optical scope, shoulder sling, bipod, and folding bayonet. Though the creature

obviously wasnt used to handling an energy weapon, its ready acceptance, grip, and posture showed that

it had seen them often enough. It shifted the carbine in its hands, peered down the barrel, and examined

the trigger carefully.

Ten cases, a thousand rifles, Han told it, taking up another carbine. He flipped up its butt plate, point-ing

out the adapters through which the weapons power pack could be recharged. These were obsolete

weapons by current standards, but they had no inter-hal moving parts and were extremely durable, so

much so that they could safely be shipped or stor ed without Gel-Coat or other preservative. Any one of

these carbines, left leaning against a fern in the jungle, would be fully operable ten years from now. Those

advantages would be important on this world, where the carbines new owners would be able to provide

lit-fie maintenance.

The creature nodded, understanding how the re-charging worked. We have already stolen small

gen-eratom, it told Hah, from the Authority compounds.

We came here because they promised us jobs and a

good life, and we celebrated our good fortune, for our

world is poor. But they worked us like slaves and

would not let us leave. Many of us escaped to live in

the wilds; this world is not unlike our own. Now, with

these weapons, we will be able to fight back-

Stop! Han snarled with a slashing gesture of his hand, and a violence that made the creature recoil.

Reining in his temper, he went on, I dont want to hear it, get me? I dont know you, you dont know me.

Its none of my business, so dont tell me/

The large eyes were fixed on him. He looked away. I got half my pay on account when I lifted off. The

other half comes when I get out of here, so why dont you just take your stuff and scratch gravel? And

dont forget no firing those things until Ive left. An Au-thority ship just might register the noise.

He recalled that advance, paid in glow-pearls, fire nodes, diamonds, nova-crystals, and other precious

gems smuggled off this mining planet at terrible risk by whatever sympathizers the contract-slaves had

found. Rather than buy their own freedom in a quick dash aboard the Falcon, these fugitives were about

to throw themselves into a doomed rebellion against the power of the Corporate Sector Authority.

Morons.

He stepped out of the creatures way. It watched him for a moment, then went and piped at the open

hatch. Others of its kind came scampering up, crowd-ing around the hatch. Their weapons could be seen

now, primitive spear-throwers and blowguns. Some carried daggers of volcanic glass. They had clever

hands, all three fingers of which were mutually op-posable. They filed inboard, surrounding the rifle cases

and straining to lift them in teams of sixes and sevens. Chewbacca looked at them in amusement. The

cases, being borne away down the ramp and into the jungle, reminded Han of some bizarre funeral

procession.

Remembering something, he took the solemn leader aside. Does the Authority have a warship stationed

here? Big-big ship, with lots of guns?

The creature thought for a moment. One big ship, which carries cargo, carries passengers. It has big guns

on it, and meets other ships up in the sky, to load and unload them, sometimes.

Just as Han had thought. He hadnt encountered a true combat vessel, but rather a heavily armed lighter.

Bad, but not as bad as hed thought. But the creature wasnt finished. We will need more, it said; more

weapons, more help.

Consult your clergyman, Han suggested dryly, helping Chewie replace the deckplates. Or fix up a deal

through your own channels, like this run. Im out; you wont see me again. Im just doing business.

The creature cocked its head at him as if trying to understand. Han thrust aside the thought of what life

must be like in a forced-labor camp, a driven, joyless existence if ever there was one. That was a

common pattern in the Corporate Sector, naive outworlders lured by false promises, signing on only to

become prisoners once they reached the compounds. And what could these few fugitives hope to

accomplish?

The luck of the draw, he reminded him.uelf. Hits off the Cosmic Deck didnt always make things Right,

but Right wouldnt fill an egg timer on Tatooine. You played the cards you got, and Han Solo liked to be

on that end of things with the largest profit margin.

But Chewie was staring down at him. Hah sighed; the big lug was a good first mate, but a soft touch.

Well, the tip about the Authority ship was worth some-thing-a hint, maybe, a useful lesson. Han snatched

the carbine from the leader irritably.

Just remember this, youre prey. Got me? Youve got to think like prey, and use your brains.

The creature understood and moved closer, standing on tiptoe to see what Han was doing with the

carbine.

Its got three settings, see? Safety, single shot, and constant fire. Now, the Security Police here use those

riot guns, right? Sawed-off, two-handers? Theyre real fond of using constant fire, because they can

afford to waste power, just hosing it around. You cant. What you do is, lock all your carbines on single

shot. And if you get into a firefight at night or in the deep jungle where visibilitys poor, shoot at the

constant-fire sources. Youll know its none of your people, so it must be Security Police. Youve got to

start using your brain.

The creature looked from the man to the carbine and back again. Yes, it assured him, retrieving the

weapon, we will remember. Thank you.

Han sniffed, knowing how much they still had to learn. And theyd have to learn it on theft own, or the

Authority would grind them under its vast heel And on how many worlds, he asked himself, was the

Au-thority doing just that?

His thoughts were interrupted by distant sounds of blaster fire off in the jungle. The creature had moved

to the hatch, with its carbine leveled at them. I am sorry, it told them, but we had to test some of the

weapons here, now, to make certain they work.

It lowered the carbine and fled down the ramp, heading for the jungle. So much for world-saving. I take

it all back, Han said to Chewie as they leaned on the open hatch. They might do all right at that.

Their long-range sensors had been knocked out by the destruction of the Falcons dish antenna on the

ap-proach run. The ship would have to make a blind lift-off, taking her chances on running into trouble.

Han and Chewbacca stood atop the Falcon for nearly an hour, straining to patch the damaged an-tenna

mount. Han didnt begrudge the time; it had been a worthwhile effort and, if nothing else, had given the

fugitives time to leave the rendezvous area. Because, sure as stink in a spacesuit, the Falcons lift-off

would be plotted and its point of origin thoroughly searched.

They could wait no longer. The first lightening of the sky would bring every flitter, skimmer, and armed

gig the local Authority officials could lay hands on, in a tight visual search grid. Chewbacca, sensing Hafts

mood, made a snarling comment in his own language.

Hah lowered his maerobmoculars. Correct. Lets raise ship.

They adjourned below, buckled in, and ran through a prefiight-warming up engines, guns, shields. Han

declared, Im betting that lighter will be holding low, where his sensors will do him the most good. If we

come up any distance away from him, we can outrun him and dive for hyperspace.

Chewbacca yelped. Hail poked him in the ribs. Whats eating you? We just have to play this hand out. He

realized he was talking to hear himself. He shut up. The Millennium Falcon lifted, hovering for just a

moment as her landing gear retracted. Then Hah tenderly guided her up through the opening in the jungles

leafy ceiling.

Sorry, he apologized to his ship, knowing what abuse she was about to take. He fired her up, stood her

on her tail, and opened main thrusters wide. The starship screeched away into the sky, leaving the river

steaming and the jungle smoldering. Duroon fell away quickly, and Han began to thlnlc they had the

problem licked.

Then the tractor beam hit.

The freighter shook as the powerful, pulling beam fixed on her. High above, the Authority captain had

played it smart, knowing he was looking for a faster, more maneuverable foe. Having outwitted the

smug-gler, he now brought his ship plummeting down the planets gravity well, picking up enough speed

to corn-pensate for any dodge the Falcon might try in her steep climb. The tractor pulled the two ships

inexora-bly into alignment.

Shields-forward, all. Angle era, and get set to firel Han and Chewbacca were throwing switches, fighting

their controls, struggling desperately to free their ship. In moments it became clear their actions were

futile.

Ready to shift all deflectors astern, Hah ordered, bringing his helm over. Itll have to be a staring match,

Chewie.

The Wooldees defiant roars shook the cockpit as his partner swung the freighter onto a new course,

straight at the enemy vessel. All the FaIcons defensive power was channeled to redouble her forward

shields. The Authority ship was coming at them at a frightening rate; the distance between ships

evaporated in sec-onds. The Authority lighter, making hits at extreme range, jounced the two around

their cockpit but did no major damage.

Hold fire, hold fire, Han chanted under his breath. Well train all batteries aft and kick him go_ ing away.

The controls vibrated and fought in their hands as the Falcons engines gave every erg of effort. Deflector

shields struggled under a salvo of long-range blaster-cannon fire, lances of yellow-green annihila-tion.

The Falcon ascended on a column of blue energy as if she lusted for a fiery double death in collision with

her antagonist. Rather than fight the tractor beam, she threw herself toward its source. The Au-thority

ship came into visual range and, a moment later, filled the Falcons canopy.

At the last instant, the warships captains nerve gave. The tractor faded as the lighter began a desper-ate

evasion maneuver. With reflexes that were more like precoguition, Han threw everything he had into an

equally frantic bank. The two ships shields couldnt have left more than a meter or two between them in

that blindingly fast near miss.

Chewbacca was already shifting all shields aft. The Falcons main baReties, trained astern, hammered at

the Authority vessel at close range. Han scored two hits on the lighter, perhaps no more than superficial

damage, but a moral victory after a long, bad night.

The Authority ship rocked. Chewbacca howled, and

Han exulted, Last licksl

The lighter plunged downward, unable to halt her steep dive quickly. The freighter bolted out of Duroons

atmospheric envelope, out into the void where she belonged. Far below her, the Authority ves-sel was

just beginning to pull out of her dive, all chance of pursuit lost.

Hah fed jump data into the navicomputer as Chew-bacca ran damage checks. Nothing irreparable, the

Wookiee decided, but everything would have to have a thorough going-over. But Hah Solo and

Chewbacca the Weeklee had their money, their freedom, and, for a wonder, their lives. And that, Han

thought, should be enough for anyone, shouldnt it?

The starships raving engines carved a line of blue fire across infinity. Han engaged the hyperdrive. Stars

seemed to fall away in all directions as the ship out-raced sluggard Light. The Millennium Falcons main

drive boomed, and she disappeared as if shed never been there.

THEY knew theyd be watched, of course, from the moment they docked their battered freighter.

Etti IV was a planet open to general trade, a world where dry winds swept amber, moss-covered plains

and shallow, saline seas beneath vermilion skies. It had no remarkable resources in and of itself, but was

hospitable to humans and humanolds and occupied a strategic spot on star-routes.

On Etti IV, great wealth had been gathered by lords of the Corporate Sector, and with this wealth had

come its universal corollary, a thriving criminal ele-ment. Now, Hah and Chewbacca made their way

down a street of fusion-formed soil, between low build-ings of press-bonded minerals and tall ones of

perma-cite and shaped formex. They wove through the spaceport toward the Authority Currency

Exchange, with the Wooldee guiding a rented repulser-lift hand-truck. On the handtruck were cases

resembling strong-boxes, and it was for that reason that the two assumed theyd be watched. The boxes

were just the sort of thing to pique the curiosities of assorted criminal types.

But the duo also knew that any watchers would weigh risk against revenue. In the risk column would be

Halls gunmans rig and his loose, confident gait, plus Chewbaccas looming presence and ready

bow-caster, not to mention the strength and ferocity to twist any attackers body into new and different

shapes.

So they went their way in confidence, knowing that, as targets, they would appeal to neither the good

busi-ness sense nor the survival instincts of any would-be stickup artist.

The Authority Currency Exchange had no idea it was abetting a transaction involving gunrunning and

insurrection. Han and Chewbacca had already man-aged to unload the gems with which theyd been paid,

exchanging them for precious metals and rare crystal-line vertexes. In a Corporate Sector encompassing

tens of thousands of star systems, the kind of record-keeping that could keep track of every debt and

pay-ment was beyond even the most sophisticated data system. So, without a hitch, Hah Solo, tramp

freighter captain, smuggler, and freelance law-bender, had con-vetted most of his payment into a nice

neat Authority Cash Voucher. If hed had a hat, hed have tipped it to the chirping disbursements

auto-clerk that spat the voucher at him. He tucked the little plastic chit into a vest pocket.

When theyd left the Exchange, the Wooldee let out one of his long, hooting barks. Han answered, Yeah,

yeah, well pay Ploovo Two-For-One, but first weve got one stop to make.

His sidekick growled loudly, startling bystanders with his displeasure and inviting a dangerous sort of

attention. A detachment of Security Police appeared out of the swirl of humans, droids, and nonhumans

moving along the street.

Hey, lighten up, pal! Han murmured out of the side of his mouth. The brown-uniformed Security Po-lice,

their suspicious eyes darting beneath battle hel-mets, sauntered along four abreast, their weapons held

ready, as pedestrians moved quickl! out of their way. Han saw two of the black batfie helmets bob, and

knew theyd heard the Wookiees outburst. But the disturbance apparenfiy didnt merit their attention, and

the detachment went its way.

Han stared after them, shaking his head. There were all kinds of cops in the galaxy, some of them good,

some not. But the Authoritys private Security Police- -Espos, in slangtalk-were among the worst. Their

enforcements had nothing to do with law or jus-tice, but only with the edicts of the Corporate Sector

Authority. Hah had never been able to figure out what turned a man into an unquestioning Espo

bully-boy; he merely tried to insure that he didnt cross trails with any of them.

Remembering Chewbacca, he resumed their conver-sation. Like I say, well pay Ploovo. This stop-off

wont take a minute. Well meet him right after, like we planned, square things, and go our way free and

clear.

The placated Wooldee carped noncommittally but fell in beside his parmer again.

Because Etti IVs monied classes required conspicu-ous means of demonstrating their wealth, the

spaceport harbored several exotic pet stores, featuring rare or unique stock from the immeasurable

expanses of the Empire. Sabodors was, by general consensus, the best of them. It was there that Han

went.

The stores muting system, expensive as it was, couldnt mask all the scents and sounds of the curious life

forms somewhat loosely collected there under the dubious classification Pets. Among the species on

dis-play were such premium specimens as the spidery night-gliders of Altarrn, the iridescent-feathered

song serpents from the deserts of Proxima Dibals single planet, and the tiny, tubby, clownish marsupials

from Kimanan that were commonly called furballs. Cages and cases, tanks and environmental bubbles,

teemed with glowing eyes, restless tentacles, clicking chelae, and wobbling pseudopodia.

The proprietor instanfiy appeared, Sabodor himself, a denizen of Rakrir. His short, segmented, tubular

body scuttled along on five pairs of versatile limbs, his two long eyestalks moving and rotating constantly.

Seeing the pair, Sabodor rose up on his last two sets of limbs, his uplifted eyestalks reaching nearly to the

level of Hans chest, inspecting him from all angles.

Ever so sorry, Sabodors voice twittered from the cantilevered vocal organ located at the center of his

midsection. I dont deal in Wookiees. Theyre a sen-tient species; cant use them as pets. Illegal. Ive got no

use for a Wooldee.

Chewbacca cut loose with a furious roar, showing his fearsome teeth, stamping a hairy foot the size of a

platter. Display racks shook and cases vibrated. Emit-ting a squeal, the terrified Sabodor scooted past

Hah, his foremost limbs clapped over his hearing orifices. The pilot tried to calm his big friend, while

dozens of pets began chorusing their answering chitters, hums, screams, and tweets, bouncing around

their respective confinements in fear and agitation.

Chewy, easyl He didnt mean it, Han soothed, blocking the Wooldee from a violent laying of hands upon

the quivering shopkeeper.

Sabodors trembling eyestalks appeared, one to ei-ther side of Hans knees. Tell the Wookiee no offense.

An honest mistake, was it not? No insult intended.

Chewbacca quieted somewhat. Han, remembering all the Security Police in port, was grateful. We came

in to buy something, he told Sabodor as the proprie-tor rippled away from him in reverse gear. Hear me?

Buy.

Buy? Buy! Oh, come, sir, and see-see-see! Any pet

worth having is to be had at Sabodors, best in the

Sector. We have---

Hah had waved him to silence. He laid a friendly hand on the spot where the overwrought little

shop-keepers shoulder would have been, if hed had one. Sabodor, Im going to make this transaction

easy.

What I want is a Dinko. You have one?

Dinko? Sabodors tiny mouth and olfactory cluster somehow cooperated with his recoiling eyestalks to

convey disgust. What for? A Dinko? Revolting, ugh?

Hans mouth tugged in a wry smile. He produced a handful of cash, riffling it invitingly. Got one for me?

Can doI Wait right here! Sabodor, undulating ex-citedly, flowed away into a back room. Han and

Chewbacca barely had time to gaze around before the proprietor was back. In his upper two pairs of

append-ages he held a clear case. Inside was the Dinko.

Few creatures enjoyed the dubious notoriety ac-corded to Dinkoes, whose temperament came quite

close to pure psychopathy. One of the mysteries of the zoological world was how the little terrors

tolerated one another long enough to reproduce. Small enough to fit in a mans palm if that man were

indiscreet enough to pick it up-the Dinko glowered out at them. Its powerful rear legs moved constantly,

and the twin pairs of grasping extremities on its chest pinched the air, longing for something upon which to

fasten. Its long tongue flickered in and out between wicked, glit-tery fangs.

Is it de-scented? Han asked.

Oh, nol And its been in rut ever since it was trans-shipped. But its been de-venomed. Chewbacca

grinned, his black nose wrinkling.

Han asked, How much?

Sabodor named an exorbitant sum. Han counted through his sheaf of cash. I11 give you exactly one half

that, agreed?

The eyestalks, flopping about in distress, seemed close to tears. The Wookiee, snorting, leaned down at

Sobodor, who shrank again behind the dubious safety of Hans knees. Admit it, Sabodor, Han invited

cheerfully, its a good deal.

You win, waded the proprietor. He proffered the case. The Dinko threw itself from side to side of its

container, foaming at the chops.

One more thing, Han added blithely. I want you to give it a light sedation dosage so I can handle it for a

moment. Then you can give it to me in a different box, something opaque.

That was really two things, but Sabodor agreed de-jectedly, eager to have the Wookiee, the human, and

the Dinko all out of his establishment as soon as pos-sible.

Ploovo Two-For-One, loa n shark and former rob-ber, smash-and-grab man, and bunko-steerer out of

the Cron Drift, looked forward with pleasure to collect-ing the outstanding debt from Han Solo.

He was elated, not only because the original loan would reap a splendid profit for himself and his

backers, but also because he thoroughly hated Solo, and an interesting form of revenge had materialized.

The message from Solo, promising repayment, had stipulated a meeting here on Etfi IV, in the spaeeports

most elegant bistro. That had been all right with Ploovo Two-For-One; his creed was that toil and

en-joyment should be combined whenever feasible. The Free-Flight Dance Dome was more than

satisfactory; it was opulent. Ploovo himself was far from charming, a bad-tempered hulk of a man whose

face was subject to a nervous tic; but his income gave him a certain con-spicuous social viability.

He sprawled onto a conform-lounger at a corner table, joined by the three retainers hed brought along.

Two of these were humans, hard-batten men with a number of weapons concealed on and about their

per-sons. The third was a Iong-snouted, scaly-skinned bi-ped, native of Davnar II, who possessed a true

flair for execution.

Ploovo, flashing more than enough currency to create an inspired sense of hospitality in the waitress,

primped at his black, oily topknot. While he waited, he gloated over his anticipated revenge on Han

Solo. Not that the pilot wouldnt repay. The loan shark was certain of getting his money. But Solo had

long been an irritant, always ready with some daTzrling evasion of payment, jeering Ploovo and

bewildering him at the same time. On a number of occasions Ploovo had lost face with his backers

because of run-ms with Solo, and his backers werent the sort to be mused by that. The code of ethics

necessary to the conduct of illegal enterprises kept Ploovo from turning in the captain-owner of the

Millennium Falcon to the law; neverthe-less, a convenient local circumstance would serve the loan sharks

purpose just as well.

Entering with Chewbacca beside him, a metal case in hand, Han Solo appraised The Free-Flight Dance

Dome with a great deal of approval.

As on almost any civilized planet, many species mixed and mingled here in a taxonomic hodgepodge,

their appearance familiar or alien by turns. Having seen about as much of the galaxy as a man might

reasonably expect to, Hah still found he couldnt iden-tify half the nonhuman types he saw here. That

wasnt unusual. The stars were so many that no one could catalog all the sentient races theyd spawned.

Han had lost count of the times hed entered a room like this one, filled with a kaleidoscope of strange

shapes, sounds, and odors. Without straining, he could spot a dozen types of respirators and life-support

apparatus being used by entities whose biology wasnt compat-ible with standard human atmosphere.

Han particularly appreciated those human and near-human females dressed in shimmersfiks,

chroma-sheaths, and illuminescences. One swept up to him fresh from the bank of coin-games that

offered such diversions as Mind-Jam, Senso-Switch, Reflex Races, and Starfight. She was a tall, lithe girl

with a wine-dark cast to her skin and hair like plaited silver, wearing a gown that seemed to have been

knit from white mist. Welcome down, spaceman, she laughed, throwing an arm around him. How about a

turn through the dance dome?

Han shifted his burden to his other arm as Chew-bacca looked on disapprovingly; several of their less

auspicious adventures had begun just this way. Sure? Han responded enthusiastically. Lets dance, lets

snuggle up, lets get grafted together? He gently pushed her away. A little later.

She showed him a truly stunning smilo---to let him know it was nothing personalaand moved on to greet

another customer before hed moved out of earshot.

The Free-Flight Dance Dome was a first-class trough. It was equipped with a top-of-the-line gravity

field, its console visible among the bottles, spigots and taps, and other paraphernalia encircled by the bar.

The field permitted the management to alter gravity anywhere on the premises, and so the dance floor

and the dome over it had become a low-gee acrobatic play-ground in which singles, couples, and groups

looped, floated, and spun with effortless grace. Han also spotted individual booths and tables where

species from low-gravity worlds were taking their ease in com-fort, the specific gravity of their area

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Star Wars - [Han Solo Adventures 01] - Han Solo at Stars End (by Brian Daley)

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