Right-left, right-left, right-left.
The bounty hunter turned right at the intersection leading to the nearest transport tube. Han knew where they must be heading—the closest public landing platform. The bounty hunter must have a ship waiting there.
Obediently, Han stepped into the transport tube. He tried again to move.
Just let him wiggle even a finger or a toe! But it was hopeless. The public transport system consisted of small capsules that would hold four or five individuals, all strung together in a line like beads on a string.
Han’s captor did not sit down, but he ordered Han to do so. The Corellian sat there, fuming, imagining all the things he would do to this bounty hunter if only he could move.
The man did not speak. Han could not. It was a short, silent ride.
When they debarked from the tube capsule, Han found himself, as he’d suspected, at one of the public rooftop landing fields. The field was huge, broken only by several airshafts that gave light to the buildings beneath the platform. The airshafts yawned, with no railings to protect a careless walker from plunging to his, her, or its death hundreds or thousands of stories below.
Han had a sudden vivid memory of the night Garris Shrike had chased him across the topmost platforms on Coruscant. He’d barely escaped with his life then. The Corellian had a bad feeling that this time he wasn’t going to be so lucky.
Han found himself wondering what fate held in store for him back on Ylesia. Teroenza didn’t have a molecule of kindness or mercy in his entire enormous body. He’d see that his prisoner met a slow and agonizing end.
For a moment Han wished he could get control of his body just long enough to make a running dive down one of those airshafts. But no matter how he struggled to move, he could do nothing except obey orders.
Han and his captor strode between the grounded ships, heading Han knew not where.
Right-left, right-left, right-left …
The bounty hunter pointed, his arm coming into Han’s view. “Head for that ship. The modified Firespray class.”
Han could see it now. The bounty hunter wasn’t kidding when he said “modified.” The patrol and attack ship was very unusual, obviously heavily modified. Unlike other vessels, it landed with its Kuat Engineering Systems F-31 drive engines down against the permacrete.
Roughly egg-shaped, when those powerful engines were engaged, the ship would “stand up” on end to fly. Han had never seen anything quite like it, but the vessel reminded him of its owner—powerful and deadly.
For a moment, forgetting his predicament in his interest in the ship, Han found himself wishing he could get a look at the interior—only to catch himself in disgust. He was going to get a look at the interior, all right.
He’d spend several days aboard that modified Firespray as it took him to certain torture and inevitable death.
They were walking down the ragged “aisle” between two huge Durosian-built freighters now. In just a few steps, they’d be at the bounty hunter’s ship, and that would be it. Han knew better than to imagine he’d be able to somehow overpower this guy, seize control of the Firespray, and save himself.
He wished he could swallow. His throat was so dry it ached.
Right-left, right-left, right-left …
This is it, Han thought. This is really it…
6
Love at First Flight
As Han marched woodenly forward, he caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye—a figure stepped out from behind the freighter’s massive stabilizer fin. A voice he’d never heard before, Low, pleasant, but holding plenty of authority, said, “Freeze, bounty hunter. Move and you’ve had it.”
The hand that had been resting lightly on Han’s arm fell away. The Corellian, of course, was unable to stop walking. He marched forward into the sunlit expanse between himself and the modified Firespray, leaving his captor and his unknown benefactor behind him in the shadow of the ship.
Relief washed through him. I’m saved—only to be replaced with terror.
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the sudden change from shadow to sunlight, he could see there was an airshaft between him and the Firespray. Unable to stop himself, he was going to walk right off the edge!
Then the voice called after him. “Hey, you! Solo! Stop!”
Han felt himself halting, and was again flooded with relief.
Fortunately, his body would obey orders from anyone, not just the unknown bounty hunter. “Turn around and come back here!” the voice added.
Joyfully, Han obeyed.
As he walked toward his former captor and his rescuer, he stared into the shadows, but could make out little except that someone stood half behind the bounty hunter, holding the muzzle of a blaster shoved up under the edge of the Mandalorian helmet, so it dug into the man’s neck.