Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [244]
The defenders were beginning to emerge from the barracks, having seen the bridge collapse and the ship land. In another moment, escape might be much more complicated. Han reached out and pushed down Chewbacca’s bowcaster. “Everybody onboard; we’re back in business.”
In moments they had lifted off with Han at the controls, uttering angry maledictions at the techs who had torn the starship apart in search of the log-recorder disk and reassembled her so inexpertly. “Why did J’uoch have the ship repaired, anyway?” Badure asked.
“She was either going to keep it for her own use or sell it,” explained Gallandro. “She tried to sell me a lame story about her disagreements with you people, but considering the things I’d already discovered about your movements, the truth wasn’t hard to guess.”
Han brought the ship in to hover over the camp. “What about the other miners, the ones who lived?” Hasti asked.
“They’ve got food, weapons, supplies there,” Badure said. “They can hold out until a ship shows up, or slog it over to the city.”
Han was bringing the Falcon down again on the other side of the crevasse. A gleaming metal form waited there. Chewbacca went aft to let Bollux aboard.
“Like you said,” Han found himself telling Gallandro defensively, “they’re valuable ’droids.”
“I said ‘priceless,’ ” Gallandro corrected him. “Now that we’re comrades, I’d never offend you by suggesting you’ve gone soft. May I inquire what our next move is?”
“Direct collection of intelligence data,” Han declared, lifting off again. “Interrogation of indigenous personnel for tactical information. We’re going to make a couple of locals sweat and find out what all this was about.”
The Survivors who had activated the war-robots had decided to escape together in one large hover-raft rather than spread out across the plains in a fleet. A few passes and a barrage from the Falcon’s belly turret brought them to a halt. They threw down their arms and waited.
Han prudently left Chewbacca at the ship’s controls. He and the others, weapons recharged, went to confront the Survivors. Hasti, first down the ramp, waved her gun at them, shouting, and fairly dragged one of them off the raft. Han and Badure had to pull her off the man, while Gallandro looked on in amusement and Skynx in confusion.
“It’s him, I tell you,” she yelled, straining to go after the frightened man again. “I recognize the white blaze in his hair. It’s the vault steward’s assistant.”
“Well, clubbing him silly isn’t going to help,” Han pointed out as he turned to the man. “Better spill it, or I’ll let her loose.”
The assistant licked dry lips. “I can say nothing, I swear! We are conditioned in youth not to reveal the secrets of the Survivors.”
“Old-fashioned hypno,” Han dismissed it, “nothing you can’t overcome if we scare you enough.”
Gallandro stepped forward with a wintry smile, pulling his pistol in one fluid motion, adjusting it one-handed. A low-power, high-resolution beam sizzled into the ground at the captive’s feet, blackening and curling the grass. The man paled.
Bollux had come up, his chest plastron open. “There’s a better way,” Blue Max advised. “Circumvent his conditioning, and we can find out anything we want. We can rig up a strobe and key it to the same light pattern the Survivors use.”
Gallandro was dubious. “Query, computer: can you duplicate the Survivors’ light pulses exactly?”
“Quit talking to me like I’m some kind of appliance!” snarled Max.
“Beg pardon,” said Gallandro politely. “I keep forgetting. Shall we proceed?”
XVI
THE Millennium Falcon moved through the Dellaltian air at what was for her a conservative speed. Even so, Han was recovering the distance from the city in minutes.
Gallandro was off gathering equipment elsewhere in the ship, with Bollux’s help. Hasti and Badure sat, respectively, in the navigator’s and communication officer’s high-backed chairs behind Han and Chewbacca. Skynx,