[Han Solo] - 03(127)

The Imperials searched … and searched … and searched some more.

Han and Chewie winced as they heard crashes from the lounge and the aft cargo compartment. “Hey!” Han protested, “I’m just an honest trader!

I’m an Imperial citizen, you can’t trash my ship like this!”

“Honest trader,” Capucot sneered. “If you weren’t running spice, then what were you doing?”

Han thought fast. “I was … uh … well, I was takin’ these kids back to Corellia,” he said. “You see, there was this big rescue operation on a slave world, and … uh … well, these kids got left behind. So I brought ‘em with me.”

The captain glared at Han. “Corellia is that way,” he said, icily, pointing aft.

Han shrugged. “I had to stop off and buy food. Didn’t I, kids?”

“Yes!” lisped little Tym. “We was hungry! Captain Solo saved us!”

“Captain Solo risked his life for us,” said Cathea, twirling her long braid. “He’s a hero.”

“He saved us,” Aeron said. “We was gonna get blowed up.”

Little Kryss came over and took Han’s hand, stood looking up at the Imperial Captain. “Captain Solo is the best pilot in the whole galaxy.

He sure can outrun those Imperial si—” Han managed to put his hand over the boy’s mouth just in time. “Hell,” he chuckled, grinning weakly. “Kids. They say the craziest things. You a family man, Captain?”

Capucot was not amused.

Finally the scanning crew returned, not looking pleased. “Sir, we found nothing. We made a thorough search, Captain.”

Tybert Capucot’s face reddened. He stood there, searching for words, then met Han’s gaze. “Very well,” he said. “Our brave hero Captain Solo claims that he was taking these children to Corellia. Such a noble act deserves an Imperial escort. Set your course for Corellia, Captain.

We will escort you there.”

Han opened his mouth, then closed it again. With an effort, he nodded.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

It took him the best part of a day to reach his homeworld. Han raged at the delay in collecting his spice. He knew that if anything happened to it, that Jabba would not be lenient. Business was business, and Hutts did not know the meaning of mercy ….

When he reached Corellia, he found that the Imps had broadcast his arrival ahead of them, and there was a media blitz waiting for them.

Han and Chewie were congratulated, hailed as heroes, and only the fact that Han had already won the Corellian bloodstripe kept the grateful government of his homeworld from awarding him one.

Han was in a panic to get back to the Pit and his dropped load of spice.

Finally he was able to say goodbye to the children—who actually were pretty good kids, he was forced to concede—and head back out, a free citizen.

The Corellian made best possible speed back to the Pit, and to the coordinates where he’d dropped the load of raw glitterstim. He spent the next four hours combing the outer edge of the asteroid field, becoming more and more frantic. “It’s got to be here!” he exclaimed to Chewie. But it wasn’t.

Han searched for another two hours, using the auxiliary sensor units in the lounge to augment the ones in the cockpit. Suddenly he was interrupted by a roar from Chewbacca in the cockpit. “I’m comin’!” he yelled, racing forward.

Chewie pointed to the sensors showing two blips converging on them rapidly. Han checked the ship IDs and then swore bitterly, smacking his forehead with his hand. “Great! More Imps! That’s all I need!

Why me?”

He dropped into the pilot’s seat and reversed course, heading back into the Pit. Chewbacca growled an inquiry, wanting to know why they were running when they had no spice on board anyway.

“Don’t you get it?” Han snarled as he increased speed until the asteroids zipped past them in a blur. “They must’ve found the spice we dumped, and they know what we were searchin’ for! You know Capucot didn’t believe us .

. . he’s behind this! These slugs will arrest us on suspicion of smuggling and impound the Falcon I We’ll never get her back!” He made a hard turn to port to avoid an asteroid the size of an Imp destroyer.

“Besides …” he added, “I don’t want ‘em trashin’ the ship again searching her. We just got done cleanin’ up the mess Capucot and his boys made.”

Together, Han and Chewie sent the Falcon streaking back through the Pit, toward the Maw. His pursuers were two Imperial tariff ships, and they followed him with reckless determination.

Han’s hands moved over his controls like a man possessed as they skimmed and flipped their way through the treacherous asteroid field.