As he walked back into the shadow of the freighter’s stabilizer fin, and his eyes adjusted from full sunlight, Han finally got a good look at his rescuer.
He was a male, human, approximately Han’s age, maybe a couple of years older. Slightly shorter than Han himself, he was slender and fit. He was clean-shaven, with curling black hair, dark eyes, and skin the color of vine-coffeine lightened with traladon milk.
The man was dressed in the height of fashion, a pale gold shirt that laced up the front, accented with black embroidery on the wide collar and cuffs.
His narrow black trousers were impeccably pressed. A wide, cummerbundlike embroidered belt accented his narrow waist and flat stomach. He wore black softboots, which explained why he’d been able to ambush the bounty hunter so soundlessly. A short, black cape hung from his shoulders.
As Han approached him, he smiled, an exceptionally charming smile that revealed excellent white teeth. “You may stop now, Solo,” he said, halting Han well out of range of his erstwhile captor.
Han stopped, and stood watching as his rescuer’s thumb moved on the firing control of the blaster as he pulled his hand back slightly.
Feeling the newcomer’s grip slacken, the bounty hunter started to swing around, raising his wrists. The bounty hunter wore Mandalorian wristlets that were undoubtedly loaded with deadly little darts!
Han tried without success to scream a warning, but it was unnecessary.
The newcomer was already firing. The stun blast hit the bounty hunter, and at such close range, even his Mandalorian armor couldn’t deflect its effects.
The bounty hunter went down bonelessly. The edges of his armor clattered on the permacrete as he landed.
Han’s rescuer replaced his small but deadly holdout blaster in a concealed holster attached to the ornamental belt. He gestured to Han.
“Help me pick him up.”
Naturally, Han did as he was told.
Together, he and the newcomer carried the unconscious hunter toward his ship. Han wondered what they were going to do with him. It wouldn’t be long before he regained consciousness.
“I wonder how long that stuff will affect you,” the rescuer said thoughtfully. “Can you talk, Solo?”
Han felt his lips moving. “Yes,” he said. He tried to say more than that simple assent, but he couldn’t.
The man glanced over at him. “I get it. You can respond to orders, but no more, right?”
“I guess so,” Han found himself replying.
“Nasty stuff he shot you with,” the man said. “I’ve heard of it, but never seen it in action. I’ll have to investigate getting some of it.
Could come in handy in a pinch.”
When they reached the ramp leading to the airlock of the Firespray, they laid the bounty hunter on the permacrete. The newcomer then proceeded to search his pockets and all the concealed places in his armor. “Hello, what have we here?” he exclaimed as his deft fingers encountered several vials in the bounty hunter’s belt pocket.
After holding each vial up to the light so he could read the label, Han’s rescuer flashed him a roguish grin. “You’re in luck, Solo,” he said. “This is the stuff he shot into you”—he held up a blue vial—”and here’s the antidote.” He held up a green vial.
Han waited impatiently as the newcomer loaded the injector with the substance. “I’m having to guess at the dosage,” he said. “I’ll give you the minimum, and if that doesn’t help, I’ll try a bit more.” He placed the injector against Han’s torso and then triggered it.
As soon as his rescuer depressed the trigger, and the substance flooded his body, Han felt himself tingle all over. Moments later he could move and speak.
“Pal, I owe you one,” he said, extending his hand to the other. “If it hadn’t been for you …” He shook his head. “So who are you and why did you rescue me? I’ve never seen you before in my life.”
The other grinned. “Lando Calrissian,” he replied. “And as to why I saved you, it’s a bit of a story. Let’s deal with Boba Fett here, and then we’ll talk.” His gaze sharpened. “Hey, Solo, you okay?”
Han felt dizzy. He dropped to one knee beside the prone figure of the bounty hunter and shook his head. “Boba … Boba Fett? This is Boba Fett?”
The most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had been hired to bring him in? Han felt himself tremble in reaction to the news. “Oh, man …
Lando …” he said. “I didn’t know …”
“Well, you’re safe now,” Calrissian said cheerfully. “You can get the shakes later, Solo. Right now we have to figure out what we’re going to do with Master Fett, here.” He thought for a moment, then a slow, unpleasant smile stole across his face. He snapped his fingers. “Got it!” “What?”