Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 01_ The Paradise Snare - A. C. Crispin [13]
The little cupped green ears swiveled toward him, then she averted her head and swept past.
Under his breath, Han muttered an uncomplimentary term in smuggler’s argot, and then turned to wait for the next mark …
Han shook his head and forced himself out of his reverie. Time to go and check on the Ylesian Dream’s progress.
Hauling himself up out of his cubbyhole, the young pilot made his way through the cramped passageways until he reached the bridge. The astromech droid was still there, its lights flashing away as it “thought” its own thoughts. It was a relatively new R2 unit, still shiny-bright silver and green, with a clear dome atop its head. Inside the dome Han could see lights blinking as it worked. It was hooked into the ship’s robot controls by means of a cable.
The R2 droid must have been equipped with a motion sensor, because it swiveled its domed “head” toward Han as he clumped boldly onto the bridge in his spacesuit.
The lights flashed frantically as it “talked,” but of course the sound waves didn’t travel in vacuum. Han turned on his suit’s communications unit, and suddenly his helmet was filled with distressed bleeps, blurps, and wheeps.
“Whee … bleewheeeep … wheep-whirr-wheep!” the R2 astromech announced in evident surprise. Han looked around for its counterpart droid and didn’t see one. He sighed. His suit’s communicator would transmit what he said to the droid, but how was he supposed to actually talk to the consarned R2 without an interpreter? How did whoever had programmed the droid talk to it?
He activated his suit communicator. “Hey, you!”
“Blurpp … wheeep, bleep-whirrr!” the unit replied helpfully.
Han scowled and cursed at the unit in Rodian, trader argot, and, finally, Basic. “What am I going to do now?” he snarled. “If only you had a Basic-speech module.”
“But I do, sir,” announced the droid in a matter-of-fact voice. Its words were flat, mechanical, but perfectly understandable.
Han gaped at the machine for a moment, then grinned. “Hey! This is a first! How come you can talk?”
“Because there was not room aboard this vessel for both an astromech unit and a counterpart unit, my masters programmed me with a Basic-speech transmissions module so I could communicate more easily,” the droid replied.
“All right!” Han cried, feeling a surge of relief. He didn’t like droids much, but at least he’d have someone to talk to, and it might actually prove necessary for the two of them to communicate. Space travel was usually routine, and safe … but there were exceptions.
“I regret, sir,” the R2 added, “that you are guilty of unauthorized entry, sir. You are not supposed to be here.”
“I know that,” Han said. “I hitched a ride on this ship.”
“I-beg-your-pardon, this unit does not understand the term used, sir.”
Han called the R2 unit an uncomplimentary name.
“I-beg-your-pardon, this unit does not understand—”
“Shut up!” Han bellowed.
The R2 unit was silent.
Han took a very deep breath. “Okay, R2,” he said. “I am a stowaway. Is that word in your memory banks?”
“Yes it is, sir.”
“Good. I stowed away aboard this ship because I needed a ride to Ylesia. I’m going to take a job piloting for the Ylesian priests, understand?”
“Yes, sir. However, I must inform you that in my capacity as a watch-droid assigned to safeguard this vessel and its contents, I must seal all the exits when we reach Ylesia, then inform my masters that you are aboard, thus expediting your capture by their security staff.”
“Hey, little pal,” Han said generously, “when we reach Ylesia, you just go right ahead and do that. When the priests see that I fit all their requirements, they won’t give a vrelt’s ass how I arrived there.”
“I-beg-your-pardon, sir, but this unit does not—”
“Shut up.”
Han glanced down at his air pak readout, then