“Too many to fight,” Bria said, her voice ragged.
“They’re not getting me without a fight,” Han said. He drew his blaster and looked at them. “Who’s with me?”
Bria just shook her head. “The three of us? Against forty? Han, you’ve got more courage than sense!”
He shook his head and, with a sudden, vicious gesture, holstered his blaster again. “You’re right. But I don’t have to like it.”
Without warning, a sudden crackle of a different frequency filled the control cabin. A voice spoke in rapid-fire Sullustan. “Full throttle.
Port turn. Seven seconds—Mark!”
“What the—” Han’s fingers moved automatically as he throttled back up, using every bit of power he could squeeze out of the main and auxiliary engines. The sound of the straining engines was painful to hear as they rewed, uselessly fighting the inexorable tractor beam.
By now the Talisman had been nearly drawn into the gaping maw of the ship’s docking bay. Only a few hundred meters separated the two ships.
Han programmed his controls for a hard port turn, and his hand hovered, ready to implement the command. The engines strained and rewed. In moments they’d burn out. “What’s that crazy little—” He broke off with a gasp as the Ylesian Dream came streaking toward them, moving at terrible speed.
Everyone in the Talisman’s control cabin ducked as the little freighter flashed by overhead, then banked hard to starboard. Jalus Nebl took the Ylesian Dream between the Talisman and Helot’s Shackle at full throttle.
The distance was so tight that the little Sullustan had to turn the Dream on her side to make it between the two closing vessels.
“Go!” cried Han. “Go, Nebl!” He activated the controls, turning the Talisman as hard to port as he could.
When the Dream rushed between the two ships, it broke the tractor beam for a few precious seconds. Han’s suddenly released ship ricocheted away from the Corellian corvette like a blaster bolt, sheering off to the left, while Jalus Nebl sped away to the right.
“Yeeeeehah!” Han yelled in sheer exultation as he felt his ship soaring away from the Helot’s Shackle. As he swooped by the huge vessel, just for good measure, Han fired two concussion missiles at the Shackle’s principle solar collector and stabilizer fin, which was located dorsally amidships.
He watched, openmouthed, as the first missile wiped out the minimal shield that had been all that was protecting the fin, allowing the second missile to explode with deadly force, destroying most of the fin. “They had their heavy shields down, those idiots!” he whooped.
“They thought they had us, so they left that fin almost unshielded!”
He knew the corvette could still be a threat to them, so he didn’t slow down. Neither did Jalus Nebl. The little Sullustan was still gaining speed when Han’s sensors reported several minutes later that he’d successfully made the jump to hyperspace.
“And we’re next,” Han said, grinning at Bria. “Say goodbye to paradise, sweetheart …”
With a flourish, he stabbed down at the controls that would take them into hyperspace, and gloried in the sudden surge of power that thrust them out of realspace and into star-streaked brilliance.
“Home free,” Han whispered, and slumped into his seat, only just now aware of how very, very tired he was.
Bria smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Mrrov gave him a cheek rub.
“Thank you,” they both whispered.
Han had never felt so good
12
Togoria
Han awakened to the sound of soft, muffled sobbing. He had been sleeping on the floor in Teroenza’s living area, on a pile of expensive carpets he’d dragged into place. He’d insisted that Bria take the one human-style bed. Since Mrrov had been the only one who’d gotten any rest the previous night, she’d volunteered to doze in the pilot’s seat and keep an eye out for alarms—though now that they’d reached hyperspace, there wasn’t much that could go wrong.
Han sat up with a groan, feeling stiff. Yesterday had been a hard day, and he now remembered, belatedly, that he hadn’t eaten anything.
Thirst was even worse than hunger. Climbing to his feet, he staggered over to the room’s water dispenser and drank several cups.
As he did so, his hand brushed his face, and he frowned as he touched his chin and felt thick, generous stubble. He had forgotten to shave since before they’d landed on Nal Hutta.
The sounds of human sobbing had stopped. Han grabbed his clothes and went into the luxurious refresher unit, glad that it contained appointments for almost all types of species. He even managed to find a shaver.