Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [80]
Then Han would use the speeder as a diversion so that Chewie could blast his way to the Falcon. Han doubted Davis would help them once they reached the loading bay.
So he gave Davis the blaster that looked the most damaged. They had two blasters each, and Chewie had a blaster and his bowcaster. That would give them more firepower than the Glottalphibs, and the speeder would give them surprise.
Han hoped.
Han led the way up the corridor. The corridor had scorch marks from the Glottalphibs, and dried scales littered the floor. Han was glad for his boots; the scales dug into the soles like thorns. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if they dug into his foot.
Fortunately, Chewie’s fur and the tough pads on the bottoms of his feet prevented any serious injury.
The corridor was too hot and smelled of sulfur and dead fish. Han expected a Glottalphib to emerge at any moment, shoot them, and be done with it. Chewie clearly felt the same. His blaster was ready.
So far, Han had seen no sign of Seluss. The Sullustan must have found a way around the Glottalphibs.
“They’ve probably left,” Davis whispered.
“I doubt it,” Han said. Glottalphibs were known for their tenacity. They were also known for their love of glitter. They hadn’t been after material in the sand below.
They had been after Han.
And he wanted to know why.
Finally they reached the main corridor. It was dark. The door to the bay was closed.
The dead-fish smell was stronger here.
Chewie moaned.
Han noted his friend’s complaint about the smell, and this time had no response. It was a valid concern. A Glottalphib could hide here, and they wouldn’t see it. They couldn’t surprise it, not with all the noise they had made coming up the corridor.
Suddenly a light flared. Davis held a small glow rod and it filled the room like a fire. The walls were badly scorched, the stone desk shattered, but the three of them were alone.
The Glottalphibs had to be waiting outside the closed door.
Han glanced at Chewie. He was thinking the same thing.
Chewie brought the speeder into the corridor. Han mounted it. The engine rattled beneath the seat. The controls were loose in his hands. Jawas could fix equipment all right, but they weren’t great at fine-tuning. He sure hoped this thing went fast. If it didn’t, they’d all be dead in a matter of moments.
“Give me a moment to scatter them, Chewie. Then go out firing.”
Chewie nodded. Davis said nothing. Chewie put a paw on the door. Han gripped the speeder bike’s handles and revved it to low.
“Now, Chewie!” he said.
Chewie pulled the door open and Han turned the speeder bike on high. The engine rumbled between his thighs. Then the bike shot through the door, twice as fast as he had expected.
Immediately he had to dodge a binary load lifter. He pulled upward, and narrowly missed the wing of an outmoded cargo ship. A large wall loomed in front of him, and he realized it was Davis’s freighter. He pulled up again and circled as high as the speeder bike would let him.
Over the roar of the engine, he heard voices, shouting, and screaming. The Glottalphibs surrounded the Falcon. He dove the speeder down toward them, blaster in one hand, controls in the other, firing as he went.
One Glottalphib shot a mouthful of fire at him, and Han twirled the bike. Ground, ship, sky, ground, ship, sky, and suddenly he was heading toward the Glottalphib again. The ’Phib had to leap out of his way. Another ’Phib fired a blaster, and Han fired back, hitting the ’Phib in the mouth. It fell backward against the Falcon, and then Han couldn’t see it anymore.
The bike was still moving forward. He weaved between cargo ships, and rode under robotic arms. The front of the bike whapped a box, and the box burst open as he drove under it, showering him in Imperial blaster bolts.
By the time he got the