-and at the rim of the crater a handful of well-remembered gray-skinned aliens appeared.
“Cover!” Han shouted to the other Republic reps in the crater as the aliens opened up with blasters. Grabbing Leia’s wrist, he dived for the limited protection of a huge but badly twisted plate of shielding metal that had somehow gotten itself dug halfway into the ground. Wedge was right behind them, slamming hard into Leia as he reached cover.
“Sorry,” he panted in apology, yanking out his blaster and turning to throw a cautious look around the edge of their shelter. One look was all he got before a blaster bolt spattered metal near his face and sent him jerking back. “I’m not sure,” he said, “but I think we’ve got trouble.”
“I think you’re right,” Han agreed grimly. Leia turned to see him, blaster drawn, returning his comlink to his belt with his free hand. “They’ve learned. This time they’re jamming our communications.”
Leia felt cold all over. Way out here, without comlinks, they were as good as helpless. Totally cut off from any possibility of help …
Her hand, reaching automatically for her stomach, brushed her new lightsaber instead. She pulled it free, a fresh determination pushing past the fear. Jedi or not, experienced or not, she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
“Sounds like you’ve run into these guys before,” Wedge said, reaching around the barrier to squeeze off a couple of blind shots in the general direction of their attackers.
“We’ve met,” Han grunted back, trying to get into position for a clear shot. “Haven’t really figured out what they want, though.”
Leia reached for her lightsaber’s control stud, wondering if she had enough skill yet to block blaster fire … and paused. Over the noise of blasters and crackling metal she could hear a new sound. A very familiar sound … “Han!”
“I hear it,” Han said. “Way to go, Chewie.”
“What?” Wedge asked.
“That whine you hear is the Falcon,” Han told him, leaning back to look over their shelter. “Probably discovered they were jamming us and put two and two together. Here he comes.”
With a screaming roar the familiar shape of the Millennium Falcon swooped by overhead. It circled once, ignoring the ineffectual blasts ricocheting from its underside, and dropped to a bumpy landing directly between them and their attackers. Peering cautiously around their barrier, Leia saw the ramp lower toward them.
“Great,” Han said, looking past her shoulder. “Okay. I’ll go first and cover you from the bottom of the ramp. Leia, you’re next; Wedge, you bring up the rear. Stay sharp-they may try to flank us.”
“Got it,” Wedge nodded. “Ready when you are.”
“Okay.” Han got his feet under him-
“Wait a minute,” Leia said suddenly, gripping his arm. “There’s something wrong.”
“Right-we’re getting shot at,” Wedge put in.
“I’m serious,” Leia snapped. “Something here’s not right.”
“Like what?” Han asked, frowning at her. “Come on, Leia, we can’t sit here all day.”
Leia gritted her teeth, trying to chase down the feeling tingling through her. It was still so nebulous … and then suddenly she had it. “It’s Chewie,” she told them. “I can’t feel his presence on the ship.”
“He’s probably just too far away,” Wedge said, a distinct note of impatience in his voice. “Come on-he’s going to get the ship shot out from under him if we don’t get going.”
“Hang on a minute,” Han growled, still frowning at Leia. “He’s okay for now-all they’re using is hand blasters. Anyway, if things get too hot, he can always use the-“
He broke off, a strange look on his face. A second later, Leia got it, too. “The underside swivel blaster,” she said. “Why isn’t he using it?”
“Good question,” Han said grimly. He leaned out again, taking a hard look this time … and when he ducked back under cover there was a sardonic half-grin on his face. “Simple answer: that’s not the Falcon.”
“What?” Wedge asked, his jaw dropping a couple of centimeters.
“It’s a fake,” Han told him. “I can’t believe it-these guys actually dug up another working YT-1300 freighter somewhere.”
Wedge whistled softly. “Boy, they must really want you bad.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to get that impression myself,” Han said. “Got any good ideas?”
Wedge glanced around the edge of the barrier. “I don’t suppose running for it qualifies.”