Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [197]
The Wookiee growled ominously. Han agreed, “Let’s take care of them, but good.” No one mentioned surrender; it was plain J’uoch would do anything to get what she wanted.
The search party flashed hand-held spots into alleys and doorways. Teams were being organized to scour the rooftops; virtually every trustworthy being who could be spared from the mining camp had been armed and brought to the scene.
The man leading this particular party, the man whose carbine Han had appropriated, carried Chewbacca’s bowcaster and had tucked Han’s blaster into his belt. He had seen a Wookiee bowcaster used in the holo-thrillers and was determined to get even with the two by downing them with their own weapons. He was delighted, therefore, to see a looming, shaggy shape step out of the darkness before him.
Blocking his companions in the process, the man with the bowcaster took a stance and fired. But Chewbacca ducked at the last instant, knowing that the man’s unfamiliarity with the feel and aiming characteristics of the bowcaster would cause a first-round miss. In a flash the Wookiee hurled himself forward.
The man gave the bowcaster’s foregrip a yank to recock it and strip another round off the magazine for a second shot. But he got nowhere; the weapon’s mechanism was set for a Wookiee’s brawn and length of arm. Before he could cast it aside and pull out Han’s blaster, a mountain of angry brown fur descended upon him.
The other two searchers fanned out to either side. One was felled immediately as Han Solo stepped out of the shadows and knocked him out with a swipe of the carbine’s butt. The other was stunned by masonry brickbats flung by Hasti and Badure.
Han adroitly snatched his victim’s pistol and fired at the brickbat-stunned searcher. Yelling, the man clenched his calf and fell. Meanwhile Chewbacca had separated his man from the bowcaster and thrown him against a wall. The man crashed with an impressive thud and slid to the ground.
“You’ll live,” Han decided, toeing over the man he had shot and waving his recaptured blaster, “if you make some worthwhile conversation. How many guards on my ship?”
The man licked his fear-parched lips. “Ten, maybe twelve. A few actually onboard, the rest around her.”
“What about the ship you came in?” Hasti asked their captive. “The first one, not that big lighter.”
Han slightly depressed the blaster trigger.
The man gasped. “Backslope of town, below the landing area, in the rocks.”
Badure came up, having collected the comlink dropped by the bowcaster thief. “Sonny boy, you just bought yourself a future.” Then he told them that J’uoch’s spaceboat was grounded on an expanse of flat stone, with only two men guarding her. “I’ve grown to dislike unnecessary killing,” Badure explained, setting an appropriated stun-gun for maximum dispersal. He squeezed the trigger, and blue rings of energy leaped outward. Immediately the two guards collapsed. Badure and Hasti patted them down for whatever weapons or equipment they might have, then Han climbed into the boat and moved to the pilot’s seat. “Fueled and ready!”
Chewbacca, examining the copilot’s side of the board, woofed a question.
“No. We won’t leave Dellalt without the Falcon; we couldn’t get out of the system with this baby carriage anyway,” Han replied. “We’ll jump out of their search locus, then work out our next move.” He began throwing switches and punching instructions into the flight computer.
A warning sounded and the board lit up. Chewbacca threw his head back and yeowled his frustration. From the console rang J’uoch’s voice: “Attention, landing boat, attention! Why are you attempting to violate instrument lock? Guard detail, answer!”
“I need tools; they’ve got the board locked down,” Han said urgently. Chewbacca dug long fingers around the edges of the utility locker’s door and ripped it away. Han was busy unfastening the console’s housing