Star Wars_ Millennium Falcon - James Luceno [112]
“Whatever,” Poste said. Cradling the jammer in his arms, he raced out the door.
The slicer droid detected his arrival at the Falcon's landing bay and drifted out from behind a stack of shipping containers. Breathless, Poste set the jammer on the ground.
“What now?”
“Simply follow my instructions,” the droid said.
Poste muttered a curse.
Half an hour later, with the jammer already running low on battery power and Poste running low on patience, the hovering slicer droid issued a series of beeps and tones.
“It is now safe to enter the landing bay. I will override the proximity alarm as we approach the ship. On learning that communications are jammed, the protocol droid may attempt to raise the boarding ramp and lock it manually, so you will have to hurry.”
“Nice to know I count for something,” Poste said.
Side by side they circled around to the entrance to the bay. Poste took a breath and made straight for the boarding ramp, astern the cockpit. He hadn't covered a meter of duracrete when the Falcon loosed a blaring sound that ceased almost as abruptly as it began. Bounding up the ramp, he rushed into the YT's main hold, where he found the Solos' golden protocol droid bent over the engineering station's comlink and calling for Captain Solo.
“What!” The droid straightened and took a backward step. “Who are you? And what are you doing aboard the ship?”
“I'm borrowing it,” Poste said.
“Borrowing it? We'll just see about that.”
The protocol droid was stepping from the hold when the slicer droid drifted into the ring corridor, its pair of data-probe legs extended beneath it.
“Communications have been jammed, and I have disabled the manual release for the boarding ramp,” the slicer droid announced. “In the event you are weighing the options of locking us inside the ship.”
“A slicer droid?” C-3PO said. “What in heavens are you doing on Vaced?”
“That's none of your business.”
“I've encountered your sort before,” C-3PO said, mixing insult and defiance.
The slicer droid's snout turned toward Poste. “These protocol units tend to be garrulous and troublesome. I suggest you shut it off.”
“Shut me off?” C-3PO said in sudden apprehension. “No, you mustn't do that.”
But Poste was already moving in, one hand reaching for the switch behind C-3PO's head.
“You simply mustn't—”
“That's much better,” the slicer droid said.
Poste nodded and glanced into the cockpit connector. “Follow me. I need you to talk to the ship's droid brain.”
“It will be a pleasure, I'm sure.”
Poste ducked through the cockpit hatch, lowering himself uneasily into the pilot's chair while he waited for the slicer droid to insert its probe into one of the cockpit's scomp link ports.
“I am interfaced with the brains.”
“Brains?”
“The ship's systems are managed by three brains acting in accord.”
“With their help, can you pilot this thing?”
The droid took a moment to respond. “The rental agreement you signed with Master Druul states explicitly that droids and other devices are, under all circumstances, to remain within fifty kilometers of Vaced Spaceport.”
“Are you programmed to obey that condition?”
“No, I'm simply advising you that Master Druul will prosecute to the full extent of the law.”
“I'll worry about that later. Can you pilot it or not?”
“What is our destination?”
“Lesser Vaced.” Poste thought he saw the droid's visual scanner blink, but figured he had imagined it. “Yes or no?”
“Yes. I have limited experience in interplanetary travel, but this ship has a highly sophisticated autopilot system.”
Poste grinned. Maybe Jadak was right and he'd be able to pull this off after all. “Any systems we need to override before starting the engines? Any anti-theft or anti-intrusion protocols? Any tracking devices or shutdown devices?”
“I'm searching …”
Poste swiveled the chair through a circle. Han Solo's seat, he thought. Kark, Han Solo's ship. The famous Millennium—
“There is a problem.”
Poste planted his feet on the deck to bring the chair to a halt. “Huh?”
“With some effort on my part, the engines can be made to power up