Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 03_ Tyrant's Test - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [130]
Taking Intrepid to N’zoth meant a transfer for Han, from the flagship’s medical ward to a medical frigate delegated to stay behind with the other noncombatants. The transfer, in turn, meant the first conscious moments for Han since he had come aboard.
Both Chewbacca and Luke took advantage of the opportunity. The Wookiee had an emotional reunion with Han while the doctors and K-1B gave him a quick but thorough hands-on exam. Luke did not intrude on that time, waiting instead to hitch a ride with Han on the transfer shuttle.
“Hey,” said Han, craning his head at the sound of Luke’s voice. “I used to know a guy who looked just like you.”
“Whatever happened to him, anyway?” Luke bantered back, finding a perch beside the stretcher and catching Han’s right hand in his own. “How are you doing?”
“You know you’re getting old when you start wondering about what it is that’s finally going to kill you,” Han said with a pained grin. “I guess I’m gonna have to sit this one out, eh?”
“Unless we have a sudden need for underwater commandos,” Luke said. “They tell me you’re due for another five days in the tank.”
Han’s countenance darkened with concern. “Say, do you think you could use your powers of persuasion to get ’em to let me talk to Leia before they dunk me back under? Has anyone told her—”
“Already set up for you, Commodore, as soon as we reach the frigate,” said the doctor seated at the head of the stretcher, monitoring the readouts.
“Of course she was told,” Luke said. “The general sent a message as soon as you were aboard, and Chewie talked to her later.”
Luke saw that Han noted the omission. “Well, when you talk to her, make sure you mention I was bothering the lady doctors—otherwise she’ll worry,” he said. “Say, how about Chewie’s kid? He sure hit his growth, didn’t he? Chewie said this was some sort of rite of passage, and he’s taken a new name—Lumpawaroo, I think it was.”
“With Waroo as the familiar,” said Luke. “I think it means ’son of courage.’ ”
“Well, that fits—both ways,” Han said. “They said back there that Waroo will be coming over to the frigate, too. I think that leaves the Falcon one hand short.”
“I don’t think I’m welcome to sign on,” said Luke, squeezing and then releasing Han’s hand. “Chewbacca seems to think I abandoned you to the Yevetha.”
“Aw, he’ll get over it. He’s still wound up, that’s all. I couldn’t talk him out of going back to N’zoth with you—figures he owes it to Shoran.”
“There’s no arguing with a Wookiee,” Luke said. “He’ll be all right. There won’t be enough shooting to worry about.”
“Why’s that?”
At that point, the doctor saw on his displays the same fatigue Luke was seeing on Han’s face and ordered an end to the conversation. They completed the trip to the frigate in silence, save for the off-key humming of the shuttle pilot and the wheeze at the end each time Han exhaled. The last third of the run, it seemed as though Han was asleep.
But when the hatch had opened and the orderlies were unstrapping the stretcher to carry Han out, he opened his eyes and found Luke with a steady gaze.
“Hey—kid.”
“What?”
“You’d have come for me if you knew, right?”
“You know I would,” Luke said. Then he grinned crookedly. “It’s a bad habit from the old days.”
Han let his head loll back and his eyes close. “You can keep that one,” he said. “Give the bastards hell, kid. They’ve earned it.”
The final tactical conference for Strong Hand included not only the commanders of all sixteen battle groups—by hypercomm holo link, as the groups were already staged to their jump points—but also Luke, Wialu, and A’baht’s five senior aides.
“Here’s the good news,” said Colonel Corgan. “Not only did the feint at Doornik Three-nineteen go off without any losses,