Lando shook his head ruefully. “I get your point. Okay, Han, I’ll keep your secret.” He leaned forward and poured himself another cup of stim tea.
“Is she pretty?”
Han nodded. “I know you’ll appreciate what I mean when I say that she’s almost worth what I went through this morning.”
Lando looked impressed. “Maybe you should introduce me, old buddy.”
Han shook his head. “I don’t think so … old buddy. You strike me as a bit of a ladykiller. You’d probably try to charm her away from me.”
Lando shrugged and sat back, smiling smugly. “You never know.”
Han grinned. “The operative word here is ‘try,’ Lando. So why were you lookin’ for me in the first place? You mentioned needing a pilot?”
“That’s right. I was playing sabacc over on Bespin a week or so ago, and one of the players threw in a marker for his ship. Highstakes game, it was.”
“And you won the ship,” Han guessed.
“That’s right. But I’ve never piloted one. I need to learn—especially now, with a chance that Boba Fett will come looking for me. I’m going to head for greener pastures and fresh sabacc tables for a while, and I thought it would be fun to travel in my own ship. I had to hire a pilot to fly me back here, and it was expensive. So I want you to teach me to fly my ship,” “Okay,” Han said. “I can do that. When do you want to start?”
Lando shrugged. “My adrenaline level is still pretty high after dealing with Fett. I’m not sleepy at all. How about now?”
Han nodded. “Sure.”
They took a different tube to a different landing platform. Side by side, Han and Lando walked across the windswept surface of the platform, through ranks of parked vessels, until Lando stopped and pointed. “There it is. The Millennium Falcon.”
Han stared across the permacrete at the modified light stock freighter, Corellian made and engineered, model YT-1300 Transport. He’d seen plenty of them before, and had always liked them—Corellians were good engineers as well as good pilots.
But, as Han stared at this particular ship, something strange happened.
Without warning, he fell suddenly, irrevocably, irretrievably in love.
This ship called to him, she sang to him a siren song of speed, of maneuverability, of narrow escapes and adventures and successful smuggling runs galore.
That ship is going to be mine, Han thought. Mine. The Millennium Falcon will be mine …
The Corellian suddenly realized he was staring, his mouth agape. Lando was looking at him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Hastily Han closed his mouth, and tried his best to purge the sudden yearning, the wanting from his mind. He had to play it cool. If Lando knew how much Han wanted the ship, he’d surely jack the price up …
“So, what do you think of her?” Lando asked.
Han shook his head. “What a hunk of junk!” he exclaimed, mentally begging the Falcon’s pardon. “That game wasn’t nearly as high stakes as you’re tryin’ to make me believe, old buddy.”
“Hey, the pilot who flew it back here for me said it’s a really fast ship,” Lando said, sounding defensive.
“Really?” Han looked doubtful. He shrugged. “Well, you never know till you try her out. Shall we go for a spin?”
“Sure,” Lando said.
Minutes later Han sat at the controls of Lando’s new acquisition, savoring the Falcon’s response as she lifted on her repulsors, then he engaged the sublight drive. He still couldn’t believe what he’d seen in her engine room—this ship boasted a military-grade hyperdrive! Oh, you honey!
Her sublight speeds were good, too. Han sent the Falcon hurtling upward in a steep rush. The resulting surge of power exhilarated him, but he was careful not to show it. “Not bad,” he said indifferently.
“But I’ve seen better. Let’s see how she maneuvers.”
Quickly he took the Falcon up out of Nar Shaddaa’s atmosphere, then through the opening in the shield, all the while giving the correct responses to traffic control. Once free of the gravity well and past the floating obstacle course of the derelict ships, Han sent the Falcon into a dizzying series of spins, rolls, and flips.
“Hey!” Lando protested, gulping audibly. “You got a passenger here, don’t forget! You want me to lose my breakfast?”
Han grinned at him. He was tempted to ask Lando how much he wanted for the ship, but he knew it would be more than he could possibly afford.
Wild schemes about getting the Hutts to buy the Falcon so he could fly it regularly—and then maybe steal it, someday—raced through his mind.