Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [165]
“Sorry, sorry,” Han mumbled under his breath. He was beginning to understand why he’d gone into smuggling. It was a lot easier than emergency medical lifts.
Finally the Falcon broke free of the belt. “Send a distress signal, Chewie,” Han said. He opened his own channels, to see what messages he had. Someone would have sent him word of Leia.
He had just gotten to the messages when Chewie yarled. He had hailed Wrea, one of the planets closest to the belt. They had responded to the emergency.
Han identified the Falcon, and then said, “I am Han Solo, husband to President Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic. I have a shipload of injured here. Some of them are dying. Do you have the facilities to deal with this?”
“Our systems have tracked your progress, President Solo. Your ship came from Smuggler’s Run.”
Han didn’t try to correct their misconception about his own political position. “Yes,” he said. “I was on an investigative mission there when the Run was attacked.”
“Are the attackers in pursuit?” The Wreans were notoriously suspicious of violence.
“It was a long-distance attack,” Han said. “Their droids exploded.”
“Droids? All of their droids?”
“No,” Han said, deciding to come clean. “Only the most recently stolen ones. Some suspect the droids were bound for Coruscant.”
“Can you vouch for the honesty of your passengers?” the Wrean asked.
Chewbacca glanced at Han. Han bit back an angry reply. It wouldn’t work. “Yes,” he said. And at the moment, he could. None of the smugglers on his ship was in any condition to steal anything.
“Upon the strength of your word, then, President Solo, we accept your injured. We will prepare our facilities. The coordinates follow.”
Chewbacca entered the coordinates into the navigational computer, and carefully turned the Falcon toward Wrea. Han got out of his chair and went to the door, bracing himself with both hands on the frame.
The devastation before him was as bad as it had been in the Run. Maybe worse, because here he could see the extent of the damage on individual lives. Burned bodies, lost limbs, featureless faces. The images of lost hope, and lives changed forever.
“I just got word from Wrea. They’ll be taking us.” His words sounded hollow over the cries of the injured. He didn’t know how many people heard him, and of those who did, how many actually understood what he said. He turned away, even more discouraged than before.
He climbed back in the chair, shook his head at Chewie, and checked the messages stored for him. There were several from Leia, none recent. The most recent message he had came from Anoth, sent just before Han emerged from the Run.
He had it play in holo form.
It was from Anakin. The room behind him was dark, and he was hunched near the console. Obviously everyone else was asleep, and he was sending a message without permission.
“Papa?” he whispered. “Something bad happened, and I can’t get Mama or Uncle Luke.”
Han felt a pang that his son had turned to Luke before coming to Han. But the children always did on Force matters. They knew Han had no expertise in that area.
“Winter says we would hear if something went wrong. But Papa, I keep having dreams of a dead man. Bad things are going to keep happening again, I know it.”
He glanced over his little shoulder, as if he had heard a noise. Then he hunched even closer to the console.
“Please call when you get this. Please.”
Anakin’s image winked off.
Chewbacca growled softly. Han glanced at his old friend. Chewie’s eyes were narrowed with concern.
“You’re right,” Han said. “What kind of father am I? It hadn’t even occurred to me that they might have taken Coruscant droids to Anoth.”
Chewie growled again.
Han nodded. Chewie was right. The message had come after the destruction had occurred on the Run. The children, whom he never thought were in danger until Chewbacca had mentioned it, were safe. Nothing had