[Han Solo] - 03(46)

Minutes later, Han, sweating, began entering the course corrections that would bring them to the intersection point. He slowed his ship .

. .

slowed her again … then again. He didn’t dare come to a dead halt, for fear that he’d drift into the magnetic field ….

He kept his eyes riveted on his sensors. Rimrunner was only about fifty kilometers away, now, growing on his screens. “Jarik, I have visual contact with Rimrunner. Stand by.”

“I read you, Han. Standing by.”

Had Salla ejected in time? Han tried calling her. No answer, but there was a good chance that her suit comlink wouldn’t be strong enough to reach him through the interference.

The doomed freighter grew on his screens, in his viewport. Han slowed still further, hardly daring to blink. Where is she? Did she have the courage to jump?

Salla didn’t lack for courage, Han knew that. But jumping into space, with nothing between you and some very hard vacuum was a scary proposition. Han bit his lip, picturing her pushing herself away from Rimrunner’s airlock and triggering that first thrust pak. Although he’d spent time in spacesuits himself, he didn’t like it, hanging there, with nothing between you and infinity in all directions. And he’d certainly never had to try and cross kilometers of space in nothing but a spacesuit. The Corellian wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to do what he’d demanded of Salla ….

Before she became a smuggler, Salla had spent time as a technician on a corporate transport. He hoped she hadn’t lost her spacesuit skills.

Han watched the schematic on his navigation boards. There was the neutron star, with Rimrunner’s projected downward-spiraling orbit marked out.

Salla’s ship had reached apastron. The blip that was the Falcon was closing rapidly. Thirty klicks ….

And there, marked in virulent green, was the deadly plume of the plasma, haloed with the magnetic field in violet.

Han swallowed. So close …

He was closing on twenty klicks, now. He looked up, and through the viewport made out Rimrunner’s mynock shape.

Where is she? he wondered, checking the schematic again. Where is-“Got her!” Han suddenly yelled. “Jarik, I see her blip! No visual yet, but stay sharp!” He made a few minor course changes so he’d exactly match Salla’s trajectory. She was moving toward him at a pretty good clip, fast enough to stay in a straight line, not fast enough to risk losing control and going into a spin. Han admired her suit expertise.

“Ready, Han,” the youth said, then muttered something under his breath . .

. a prayer? Han was too busy to inquire.

Han turned on his ship’s intercom. “Chewie, you standing by with that medpak?”

“Hrnnnnnnggggghhh!”

As Han watched her blip, he kept glancing up at the port, and suddenly”I got her! Visual contact! Jarik … fire magnetic grapple on my order …. ” Han counted seconds in his head. Three . .

. two … one … “Fire!”

A tense second …

“I got her! Activating winch!”

“Chewie, can you hear her?”

Chewbacca roared. No, he couldn’t hear her, but he’d let Han know the moment he could.

“Jarik, Jarik, is she okay?”

“She’s waving, Han!” A moment later, the kid said, “Okay, Han, she’s inside! Closing the airlock!”

Chewbacca’s roar came over the intercom a moment later. “Right!” Han said.

“We are getting outta here!”

Han altered course and increased speed, pulling out of the neutron star’s gravity well. Checking the schematic, he saw that Rimrunner was just passing through the plasma jet and accelerating in its orbit.

That was close!

“How is she?” Han said over the intercom. “Talk to me, guys!”

A moment later he heard Salla’s voice, hoarse but recognizable. “I’m okay, Han. Just a cut on my head. Chewie’s fixing me up.”

“Jarik, c’mon up here and take the controls,” Han said. “I want to see Salla. Chewie, don’t forget to check her for radiation exposure ” “Arrrrnnnnnnnnnghhhh!” came the exasperated roar. “That’s good!”

“Han,” Jarik said, “she’s coming up. Stay where you are.”

A minute later, the three joined Han in the cockpit. The Corellian slipped out of the pilot’s seat, and Chewie and Jarik took over the pilot’s and copilot’s seats. Salla sat down in the passenger seat, scowling. There was a bandage on her forehead, half-covered by her wiry mop of black hair. Han bent over her solicitously. “Hey …

honey …”

She pulled away from him, and for a second he thought she was going to swing at him. Her eyes flashed with anger at the universe in general.