• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“You got one,” Han said. “Anything I can do to help you out. Like I said, I owe you, pal.”

“We’ll talk about that later. Let’s get rid of our friend here.”

Han quickly set the autopilot to take the ship up, and prerecorded all the necessary responses Slave I would need to make to Nar Shaddaa’s sector traffic control. Then he chose a course that would take Slave I clear across Imperial space in a series of bewildering hyperspace jumps. With any luck, Boba Fett would be unable to regain control until he was tens of thousands of parsecs away.

“We’re ready,” Han said, finally. “She’ll lift in three minutes.”

“Okay.” Lando turned back to the helpless bounty hunter. “Fett, listen to me, and do exactly what I say. You are to sit in this seat, strapped in, and not go near the controls of your ship until you reach the destination Solo has set for it, or until your obedience drug wears off, whichever comes first. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Fett.

“Good.” Calrissian waved a jaunty good-bye to the bounty hunter and headed for the ramp.

Han stared hard at Boba Fett. “Have a nice trip, bounty hunter. I hope I never see you again. And you can tell Teroenza from me that the next time I come back to Ylesia, he’s one dead t’landa Til. You hear me?”

“Yes.”

“So long, Fett,” Han said. He could hear the engines whine, and the ramp trembled beneath his feet as he ran down it, pressing the CLOSE button as he did so. He had to jump down from the ramp as it rose beneath his feet.

Lando had already scooped up Boba Fett’s weaponry, and together, the young men jogged to a safe distance. They turned back to watch Slave I rear up on its end, then take off, its powerful engines flaring.

Only when it had disappeared into the distance did Han finally draw a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Whew. Close call,” he said.

“I’ll say,” Calrissian agreed. “You’re lucky I spotted you, Solo.”

Han nodded and held out his hand to the other. “Call me Han. I owe you, Calrissian.”

“Call me Lando.” The other man’s irresistible grin flashed. “And … don’t worry. I’ll see you pay up.”

“Whatever you want, pal. You don’t know what would have happened to me if Boba Fett had succeeded.” The Corellian shivered, even in the sun’s warmth. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“I can guess,” Lando said. “Boba Fett doesn’t work cheap. If somebody wanted you that bad, chances are it wasn’t just because you welshed on a debt, or anything minor.”

Han grinned. “You are an insightful guy, pal.” He beckoned to the other, and they began walking back across the landing platform. “Want to get some breakfast? I find I’m really hungry. Nearly meeting a fate worse than death has that effect on me.”

“Sure,” Lando said. “You buying?”

“You bet.”

By the time they were settled at a little cafe Han knew, sipping cups of stim-tea, Han was beginning to feel as though he’d known Lando for years, instead of just an hour. “So, tell me,” he said, finishing off the last slice of flatbread, “how did you find me? And why were you lookin’ for me?”

“Well, I’ve actually seen you a time or two before,” Lando admitted. “You were pointed out to me in a couple of night spots as a fair sabacc player, a good smuggler, and an excellent pilot.”

Han tried, without much success, to look suitably modest. “I don’t recall seein’ you, Lando, but I didn’t have any reason to remember, I guess. So, okay, you knew what I look like. What happened this morning?”

“Well, last night I went by your place to talk to you, and your friend told me that he didn’t think you’d be home that night.” Lando gave Han a knowing smile. “But he told me you’d probably be staying with a … friend … at The Chance Castle. So, when I finished the night’s work, I dropped by on my way home.”

“You work at night? What do you do?” Han asked.

“Gambler,” Lando said. “Mostly. Though I’ve been known to try my hand at various schemes as they come along.”

“I see. So you hadn’t been to bed yet, but you came by The Castle on the way home.”