Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [155]
“I fully understand, sir,” Bollux answered graciously. “And as it worked out, it was quite fortunate for all of us that you thought and acted so quickly. Blue Max agrees with me, too.”
They all thought it best to ignore the high-pitched hollow sounding “Hah!” that came from Bollux’s closed chest panels.
Soon they were all at work. Bollux, Spray, and Fiolla began clearing away what they could of the piled snow, concentrating on exposing the cockpit, bow, and main thrusters. Han and Chewbacca strained at repairs with Blue Max, out of Bollux’s chest emplacement and connected to the forward tech station to check for accuracy as each individual hookup was made.
As the fluidic components were removed one by one from the starship, Chewbacca took great pleasure in heaving them as far as he could; some of his throws were so impressive that Han regretted that it wasn’t a formal athletic event. He pardoned his friend these excesses; the fluidics had been as much a curse as a blessing since they were installed.
As the replacements were made, the pile of discarded adaptors and jury-rigged gear grew. Because they knew intimately every cubic centimeter of their ship, they worked rapidly; they had originally installed the fluidics in such fashion that removal would be simple.
Activating another component, Han asked Max over the comlink how things looked from the tech station. “Checks out perfectly, Captain,” came the computer’s childish voice.
Pleased with the speed with which their labors were going, Han said, “We should take time to retune the engine power-curves for peak efficiency, but I’d rather get off Ammuud first. The biggest job’s the only one left—the hyperspace control units. Shouldn’t take more than—”
“Captain Solo!” Max’s vocoder communicated urgency. “Trouble! Long-range sensors paint three blips!”
Chewbacca yipped a question at Han, who snapped a sharp response. “What’s it matter who they are? They’re not coming for a gala sendoff, that’s for sure. No time for the hyperdrive. Seal up the hull.” He called to Fiolla and the others “Get aboard; we’re raising ship right now!”
Han sprinted up the ramp, leaving his first mate to close up the exposed systems. In the cockpit his hands flew back and forth across both his own and Chewbacca’s sides of the console. Among other things, he flicked on the ship’s commo board and monitoring outfit, though he doubted he’d pick up much in the way of transmissions from the bogies.
But a moment later, in the midst of charging the ship’s weaponry, he noticed a blinking telltale on the broad-band monitor. He read the instruments; there was a steady signal coming from somewhere very close by. A fast scan by the direction finder told him its origin.
He recalled that he had left the disruptor rifle in the lifeboat. But Chewbacca had placed his gunbelt in the navigator’s chair. Good boy! Fastening the belt around his hips and tying down the holster, he rushed back for the ramp.
Chewbacca noticed the blaster at once. “We’ve been popped,” Han explained. “Somebody keyed the boat transceiver; we’ve been sending all along. It probably took them this long to pick us up among all the dips and crags.” He was glaring meaningfully at Fiolla.
“After all this time,” she said with amazement, “you still don’t trust me.”
“Name another nominee? Spray hasn’t been near the boat and I sure don’t remember doing it.” He beckoned his partner. “We’ve got work to do, pal. Spray, you too. Bollux, go with our other guest to the forward compartment and watch her. And brace your chassis for some rough weather.” He started back for