Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [77]
Han, yelling and waving, got their attention. “Grab those guns and take up positions in the stairwell! Espos will be finding their way here in a minute!” He spotted a man in the uniform of a planetary constabulary, probably a bothersome official the Authority had decided to put on ice. Han pointed to him. “Get them organized and set up defenses, or you’ll all find yourself back in stasis!”
Han turned, heading for the corridor. As he passed the ’droid, he told him, “Wait here, Bollux; I’ve got to find Doc and Chewie.”
As the prisoners scrambled for the fallen Espos’ weapons, Han dashed into the connecting corridor, swung right, and headed for the next tier block. But as he closed on the next door, it snapped open, unlocked from the inside. Three Espos crowded, elbows and hips, each trying to be the first to get out of the tier block, as a pandemonium of fighting and shooting echoed from the room behind them.
The guards made it only halfway through the door. There was a deafening roar, and a familiar pair of long hairy arms reached out to gather all three of them back into the fray.
“Yo, there you are now,” Han called happily. “Chewie!”
The Wookiee had finished draping the guards’ limp forms over a nearby handrail. He saw his friend and hooted ecstatically. Han, his protestations ignored, was caught up in a comradely embrace that made his ribs creak. Then the artificial gravity waffled for a second and Chewbacca nearly fell. He let Han down.
“If we ever get out of this, partner,” Han panted, “let’s go settle down on a nice, quiet, stellar delivery route, what d’you say?”
This tier block had been taken with less trouble than the other; apparently fewer guards had been here when its stasis fields began to go. There was the same confusion, though, in a multitude of tongues and sound levels. The Wookiee, jostled into Han, turned with a truly stentorian roar, holding his fists aloft. A space cleared around him instantly. Into the interval of silence Han inserted the order that the prisoners take up what guns they had and join the other defenders.
Then he grabbed Chewbacca’s shoulder. “C’mon, Doc’s here somewhere, Chewie, and we haven’t got long to find him. He’s our only chance of coming out of this alive.”
The two went on to the next tier block, of which there were five altogether, as Han recalled from the floor plan. They encountered a door already open. Han brought the riot gun up and peered cautiously into the chamber. Its stasis booths were empty, and a disturbing silence hung over all. Han wondered if, perhaps, the Authority hadn’t gotten to use this portion of its prison yet. He stepped into the tier block; Chewbacca followed after.
“Stand where you are!” ordered a voice behind them. Men and other creatures jumped up from concealment on the catwalks and outerworks, and along the walls. More appeared from around the bend in the corridor.
But both Han and his first mate had identified the voice that had commanded them. “Doc!” Han cried, though he and the Wookiee prudently held their places. No use being fried.
The old man, his head wreathed by a white, frizzy cloud of hair, blinked at them in utter surprise. “Han Solo! What in the name of the Original Light brings you here, son? But I suppose that’s obvious: two more inmates, eh?” He faced the others. “This pair’s okay.”
He trotted over to them. Han was shaking his head, “No, Doc. Chewie was here. A few of us came to see what we—”
Doc hushed him. “More