Honor Among Thieves

“He’d never let you go. He’d sell you to the Empire,” Han said to Scarlet.

“I believe you,” she replied.

Han turned the comm back on. “So, yeah, Baasen? We’re all not very excited about that deal. Here’s another scenario. Why don’t you go wait for me on Tatooine, and I’ll have the money sent directly to you. You can give Jabba his share, explain the misunderstanding, and everyone wins.”

Behind him, the navigation computer gave a series of clicks and restarted. Scarlet moved over to it, then whispered to Han, “Where to?”

Anywhere fast, he mouthed back at her.

“Solo, my boy,” Baasen said, “it hurts me that you think I’m so dim about the wits. Even the pain of my severed hand is nothing compared with how your contempt makes me feel. If you ever wondered why you’re so unpopular, that might be it. You just think you’re so much better than everyone else.”

“I have lots of friends,” Han said.

“No, my dear boy, you don’t. What you’ve got are accomplices.”

Scarlet was busily programming the jump computer. Chewbacca seemed to have everything running well. Han leaned back in his chair with a grin Baasen couldn’t see and said, “You’ve got me there. As always, you see right through me.”

“I bet you were congratulating yourself on escaping those Star Destroyers, eh?”

Scarlet gave him a narrow I-told-you-so look.

“Well,” Han said. “I wouldn’t go so far as—”

“That was me, boy. Might have sent a panicky message on the Imperial channel that a rebel fleet was inbound. Bigger threat, needing all the resources available to meet in glorious battle or some such. Bounced it off one of their out-system watch posts. Take them the better part of an hour to be sure you weren’t a distraction.”

“That worked?” Han asked, wondering why he’d never thought to do it.

“So, are you going to make me kill you, or are you going to shut down your drive and we can handle this in person like gentlemen? You never know, my good word in Jabba’s ear might save you a world of pain.”

Chewbacca looked into the cockpit and growled out a question. Han pointed up at the top turret. The Wookiee chuffed and shambled off.

“Your concern for my well-being does you credit after I shot your hand off,” Han said.

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Baasen asked. “Or are you just stalling for time?”

“No, not at all,” Han said. “Just want to make sure I have your attention when I give you my answer.”

“Well, you’ve got it—” Baasen was saying, but Han killed the comm channel to him.

“Let him have it,” Han said to Chewbacca on the internal comm.

The upper turret let loose with a barrage of fire that hammered Baasen’s ship, and Han threw the throttle to maximum.

“Almost done?” he asked Scarlet.

“Nearly,” she said. “I think that guy really hates you.”

“I’m not too fond of him. It won’t matter in a minute. Chewie! Keep hitting him in the face until we jump!”

The Wookiee growled back, but the fire from the upper turret never let up.

“Okay,” Scarlet said. “Just about ready.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. Here. We.” Han’s “Go” was drowned out by the squawking of a proximity alarm. The ship rocked as Baasen unloaded a barrage of laser cannon fire. The blasts struck across the top of the ship, one of them even hitting the cockpit. The shield alarms began blaring again.

“Go go go!” Scarlet yelled. She was yelling at the computer, not him. Something physical slammed into the back of the Falcon like a hammer blow. Baasen’s ship had fired a missile into them, but the damage didn’t seem too severe. A dud, but there would be another one in seconds. Chewbacca charged into the cockpit, howling in anger.

“Buckle up,” Han told him. “We’re leaving right now.”

“Wait,” Scarlet said. “There’s a missile stuck in the ship! Won’t it blow up if we—”

She never finished. Han pulled back the throttle on the hyperdrive, and the stars disappeared in a swirl of light.

THE STARS WERE STILL. Half a dozen warning indicators and error codes blinked and whined from the control boards. A jagged crack ran through the screen in front of him, charred where the battle hadn’t quite managed to shatter it. Han leaned back in his seat, took a deep breath, and sighed happily. The tension of battle flowed out of his muscles, leaving him relaxed and a little giddy. Beside him, Chewbacca grunted petulantly.

“What?” Han said. “It all worked out.”

“It was bracing,” Scarlet said. “Are we really all right, or is that missile stuck in your ship going to blow up and kill us all?”

“One or the other,” Han said, and pushed himself up. “I’ll go find out which. Where are we, Chewie?”

Chewbacca shrugged magnificently.

“Well, see if you can figure it out. We managed one jump. If we can get one more, we’ll be fine.”

“I need access to your computer,” Scarlet said, holding up the stolen data. “I need to get this encryption broken.”

“You can have whatever Chewie doesn’t need,” Han said as he walked out the cabin door. “Calculating the jump gets first priority.”

“Yes, Captain,” Scarlet said, her tone somewhere between amused and sarcastic.

“Damn right,” Han shot back, but nothing could touch his euphoria. Not every fight left him feeling good, but that one had. When the adrenaline had burned its way through his bloodstream and the fatigue kicked in, he’d probably collapse, but until that happened there was plenty of work to do.

He climbed the ladder up to the gunner’s turret. If he pressed his cheek almost against the transparisteel, he could just see where Baasen’s missile still protruded from the skin of the ship. It was a gray-green oblong. Depending on how much of it had actually penetrated the Falcon, it could have been anywhere from a meter and a half to three. Strands of what looked like cable spread around it. He crawled back down and ran a battery of diagnostics and tests. The missile had cut or crushed part of the power grid, and coolant was leaking badly around it, which was probably what made the ropy-looking things around the missile’s entry. There were no traces of explosives or invasive proteins. It wasn’t injecting tiny droids into the ship to disassemble her or sabotage her in the middle of a jump. If it had a warhead, it wasn’t exposed or sparking. Probably a dud, but he’d still feel a lot better once it was off his ship.