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This time the stormtrooper just ignored him, handing him off to two others.

"Take the prisoner to interrogation," he said. They nodded in unison. Each grabbed one of Han's arms, and they marched him down the narrow white hallway.

Han had experienced Imperial interrogation tactics. He didn't have too much interest in a return visit. He wriggled around in his restraints. The stormtroopers had replaced Lore's makeshift rope cuffs with a pair of standard Imperial binders. There was no hope of escape, but if he stretched, he could just reach his comlink and open a channel to Chewbacca. Hopefully, Han could alert the Wookiee to the situation before he responded and gave the game away. "So, you're taking me in for an Imperial interrogation?" he said loudly, once he'd opened the channel. "Where is that, exactly?"

The stormtroopers ignored him. Hope you're listening, Chewie, he thought.

There was the possibility Chewbacca had been taken prisoner as well. But Han didn't let himself think like that. The Wookiee was too smart.

Of course, so am I.

As they turned a corner, Han spotted the two things he needed for an escape: a notation marking this as corridor E-71, and a damaged bulkhead, its top half peeling away from the wall.

"See, you could use some maintenance after all," Han said loudly, hoping that Chewbacca could hear him—and that he'd succeeded in infiltrating the station's operating systems. Specifically, it's electrical system. "Look at that shoddy workmanship, right here in corridor E-71. That could be dangerous," he warned the stormtroopers. "What if you had some kind of electrical failure with your lighting system and someone just blundered into the bulkhead?" He shook his head, taking a close look around to memorize his surroundings. The remote locking device for his wrist binders was tucked into the utility belt of the stormtrooper to his left. "Nothing more inconvenient than an on-the-job injury,"

he said. "You should really get that checked out. Now, while the lights are still on."

"What are you yammering about?" the stormtrooper on his right snapped irritably.

Come on, fuzzbrain, Han thought. Get the message. But nothing happened.

He'd have to buy himself some time.

Feigning clumsiness, he tripped and stumbled to his hands and knees. The stormtroopers stopped and hauled him back to his feet. "See, this is what I'm talking about," he said, even louder than before. "Imagine a bunch of clumsy folk bumbling around here in a blackout. Here in corridor E-71. You wouldn't want—"

The lights went out.

Han was ready. Before the stormtroopers knew what was happening, he slung his bound hands into the first one's head knocking him into the second one. They tumbled to the floor together. By feel, Han found the locking device lodged by the stormtrooper's blaster, and then for good measure, snatched the weapon, too.

"See, fellas? This is what I'm talking about," he said, as he pried the peeling bulkhead off the wall. The stormtroopers were shooting blindly in the wrong direction, their laserfire sizzling through the dark.

"You said right! " Han hissed into the comlink, slithering backward through the duct until he reached the fork. This time, he took a left. Chewbacca growled into his ear. "No, if you'd said left, I would have gone left," Han snapped, inching forward again. He'd been shimmying through the ducts and conduits of the station for what seemed like hours, following Chewbacca's hastily whispered instructions. If all went according to plan, he'd eventually emerge in the shuttle docking bay, meet Chewbacca, steal a shuttle, and fly off to safety.

If he could ever find his way out of these tunnels.

This one passed right over a series of crew quarters, and the ceilings were thin enough that he could hear snatches of conversation filtering up from below.

Banter about a recent game of zoneball, gossip about the latest antics of a well-known HoloVision star, even a parent yelling at his kid for shooting out a viewscreen