Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [157]
The target swept in, even faster than he had expected. It was, as he had thought it would be, a pinnace, a ship’s fighting boat. So, our friends the slavers are still with us.
At the same time he was squeezing off quick bursts, trying to bracket the pinnace. The quad-guns slammed away in alternating pairs, but the pinnace had picked up too much speed; it was into his gunsights and out again before Han had a chance to come close.
The starship shook like a child’s toy as her defensive mantle struggled to deal with the blasts of the pinnace’s cannon. Han registered, distantly, the sound of the belly guns and Chewbacca’s frustrated howl as the Wookiee, too, missed on the first pass.
Then, instead of one triangle of light on his targeting monitor screen, Han saw two. He brought the quad-mount around hastily, its servos protesting, throwing him deeper against the padding of the gunner’s seat.
A pinnace had come in from directly astern, its blaster fire bisecting the Falcon’s upper hull precisely. There were deep vibrations as the starship shuddered from the fire. Han couldn’t stop himself, when he saw the volley walking along the hull at him, from throwing an arm up to protect himself. But deflectors held, and in a split second the pinnace had swept by with its two companions to come to bear for another run.
The pinnaces were perhaps twice the size of the lifeboat Han and Fiolla had stolen. They were fast, heavily armed, and nearly as maneuverable as fighters. Lacking hyperdrive, there was no question of outrunning them; the Falcon could only make a fight of it.
The freighter tilted and sideslipped as Spray attempted an evasive tactic. Han, his aim spoiled, yelled into his headset mike. “Nothing fancy, Spray. Just go with their strafing runs and cut into their speed advantage; no aerobatics!”
Spray trimmed the freighter. The pinnaces had broken right and left with the third ship going into a steep, rolling climb for an overhead attack. Han held fire, knowing they were out of range, and bided his time. Spray headed the freighter deeper into the high mountains.
The pinnace that had broken left now dove abruptly and came in under the Falcon’s belly. Han could hear the reports of Chewbacca’s guns as he brought his own weapon around, its four barrels pivoting and elevating on their pintles in response to the commands of the targeting grips.
He tried for the diving pinnace. Outside the ball-turret the quad-guns responded minutely to the least adjustment of his controls. The computer limned aiming grids, plotted the pinnace’s estimated course and speed, and predicted where it would be. Han slewed his seat around, hands clenching the grips, and four cannon barrels swung to follow suit. He opened fire and the quad-guns pounded red destruction at the bandit. He scored a partial hit, but the pinnace’s shields held and it managed to evade his fire almost instantly.
“Swindler!” he howled, tracking the pinnace in a hopeless effort to connect again. There was the sound of a distant explosion and a triumphant roar echoed up the ladderwell. Chewbacca had drawn first blood.
The third pinnace swept past, taking a course almost at right angles to the one Han was still tracking. The newcomer got off a sustained burst that splashed harmlessly off shields, but there was a surge from the Millennium Falcon’s engines. The ship’s defensive mantle was in danger of failing, having taken extreme punishment from the sustained, well-directed fire of the attackers.
Realizing he couldn’t catch up with the one he had just missed and ignoring his comlink, Han yelled down the ladderwell, “Chewie! One in the Money Lane!”
Because of the Falcon’s design, a flattened sphere, and the position of her main batteries at the precise top