Star Wars - The Han Solo Adventures - Han Solo at Stars End

by Brian Daley

Oh, yeah, and if we get nailed here without a mighty good alibi, theyll stick us in jail, or what-ever. He smiled at BoUux and Blue Max. Except you boys. You, theyd probably recycle into lint filters and spittoons.

  He dragged the toe of his boot back and forth on the deck. Not much more to it; only that Im not leaving this stretch of space without Chewie. Of all the things hed mentioned, he was surest of that. Hed spent many long watches in the Falcons cockpit, haunted by what his Wookiee partner might be under-going. A hundred times since taking up this vigil, hed almost cut in the ships engines to shoot his way into Stars End and get his friend out or get flamed in the attempt. Each time, his hand had been stayed by the memory of Rekkons words, but it was a constant struggle for Han to restrain his impulses.

  Atuarre had plainly been thinking along the same lines. When the Espos came to evict us from our colony world, she said slowly, some Trianii tried armed resistance. The Espos were brutal in their inter-rogation of prisoners, seeking the ringleaders. It was the first time I had seen anyone use The Burning. You know what I refer to, Solo-Captain?

  Han did. The Burning was a torture involving the use of a blaster set at low power, to scorch and sear the flesh off a prisoner, leaving only blood-smeared bone. Usually, a leg would be first, immobilizing the victim; then the rest of the skeleton was exposed, inch by inch. Any other prisoners could be made to watch, to break their will. The Burning seldom failed to ob-tain answers, if answers were to be had; but in Hans opinion, no being who employed such methods de-served to live.

  I will not leave my mate in the hands of the kind of people who would do that, Atuarre was saying. We are Trianii; death, ff it comes to that, is not something we fear.

  Not a very linear analysis, Blue Max piped up.

  Well, who said youd understand it, birdhouse?

  Han scoffed.

  Oh, I comprehend it, Captain, Max said with

  what Han couldve sworn was a note of pride. I just

  said it wasnt very-

  He was interrupted by a beep from the corntoo monitoring suite. Han was out of his chair and halfway to the cockpit by the second beep. Just as he slid into the pilots seat, a last, sustained beep signaled the end of the transmission.

  The recorder bagged it, Hah said, hitting the playback. I dont think it was encrypted.

  It was a cleartext message, sent economically, in burst. He had to slow down the playback by a five-to-one factor before it ungarbled.

  To Corporate Vice-President Hirken, Authority facility at Stars End, the audio-reconstruction began. From the Imperial Entertainers Guild. We beg the Viceprexs indulgence and forgiveness, but the troupe scheduled to stop at your location has been forced to cancel its itinerary because of transportational mishap. This office will schedule a replacement immediately, when a troupe with a droid of the requisite type be-comes available. I am, distinguished Viceprex, your abject servant, Hokkor Long, Secretary in charge of scheduling, Imperial Entertainers Guild.

  Hans fist hit the console on the last syllable. Thats it!

  Atuarres expression mixed befuddlement with doubt of Hafts soundness of mind. Solo-Captam, thats what?

  No, no, I mean thats us. Were in! We just got dealt a wild card!

  He whooped, slammed his fist in his palm, and nearly ruffled Atuarres thick mane from glee. She retreated a step. Solo-Captain, has the oxygen pres-sure dropped too low for you? That message was about entertainers.

  He snorted. Whereve you been all your life? He said replacement entertainers. Dont you know what that means? Havent you ever seen the broken-down acts the Guildll throw in to fill a playdate, just so they can hang on to their agents fee? Havent you ever gone to some bash where they promised a class act, then at the last second they pull a switch and stick in some...

  It dawned on him that they were all staring at him now, photoreceptors and Trianii eyes. He half sobered. What else can we do? The only other thing Ive thought of is to fly into Mytus VII backward so theyd think we were leaving. But this is even wilier. We can do it. Oh, theyll think we stink like banta droppings maybe, but theyll buy the lie.

  He saw Atuarre was far from convinced, and turned to Pakka. They want entertainers. Howd you like to be an acrobat?

  The cub made a little bounce, a kind of strain to speak, then, frustrated, sprang into a backflip to swing upside down from an overhead control conduit by his knees and tail.

  Hah nodded approval. What about it, Atuarre, for your mates sake? Can you sing? Do magic tricks?

  She was nonplused, resenting his appeal to Pakka and his invocation of her mate. But she saw, too, that he was right. How many chances like this would come their way?

  The cub began clapping his paws for Itans atten-tion. When he got it, Pakka shook his head energeti-cally in answer to Hans last question; then, still hanging upside down, he put paws on hips and made wriggling motions.

  Halls eyebrows knit. A... dancer? Atuarre, youre a dancer!

  She cuffed her cubs rump sharply. I am not, er, unskilled in the rites of my people. Itan saw she was embarrassed; she riveted him with a defiant stare. And what of you, Solo-Captain? With what will you astonish your audience?

  He was too exhilarated with the prospect of action to be dampened. Me? Ill think of something. In-spirations my specialty!

  A dangerous specialty, the most dangerous of all, perhaps. What of the droid? What droid? We dont even know what kind of droid they meant.

  Ah, a replacement droid, remember? Hah talked fast, to sell his point, gesturing at Bollux. The droid made strangely human prevocal sounds, a creak of astonishment, and Blue Max got out a Wow! as Hah rattled on.

  We can say the Guild got it wrong. So Stars End

  wanted a juggler or whatever and they get a story-

  teller. So what? Well tell them to go sue the Enter-

  tainers Guildl

  Captain Solo, sir, ff you please, Bollux finally in-

  terjected. With your kind permission, sir, I must

  point out-

  But Han already had his hands on the droids weatherbeaten shoulders, eyeing him artistically.

  Hmm, new paint, of course, and theres plenty

  aboard; it often pays to slap a coat on something

  before resale, especially if you didnt own it to begin

  with. Scarlet liqui-gloss, I think; a five-coat jobs all

  we have time for. And maybe some trim. Nothing

  flashy, no scrollwork or filigree; just some restrained

  silver pinstriping. Bollux, boy, you can stop worrying

  about obsolescence after this, cause youre gonna lay

  era in the aislesl

  Their approach and planetfall were uneventful. Han had altered the drift of their captive asteroid to take him back out of range of the Authoritys sensors and then abandoned it. Once back in deep space, hed made a nanno-jump. barely brushing hyperspace, to emerge near Mytus VII and its two small moonlets.

  The Falcon identified herself. using the Waivered registration obtained by Rekkon. To that was added the proud announcement that she was the grand tour-ing vehicle of Madam Atuarres Roving Performers.

  Mytus VII was a place of rocky desolation, airless, its distance from its sun rendering it dim and cheerless. If anybody escaped Stars End, hed have no place to go; the rest of the solar system was untenanted, none of its planets being hospitable to humanoid life.

  The Authoritys installation was marked by group-ings of temporary dormitories, hangars and guard barracks, hydroponics layouts, dome-sheds and weap-ons sites The ground was gouged and pocked where construction of permanent subsurface facilities was in progress, but there was at least one finished struc-ture already. In the middle of the base reared a tower like a stark, gleaming dagger.

  Evidently no tunnel system had been completed yet. The whole complex was interconnected by a maze of tunnel-tubes, like giant. pleated hoses radiating from their boxy junction stations, a common arrangement for construction sites on airless worlds.

  There was
only one sizable vessel on the ground, an armed Espo assault craft. There were also smaller craft and unarmed cargo lighters, but Han had checked carefully for picket ships this time and was satisfied that there were none.

  Hah, checking visually for that heavyweight power plant his sensors had spotted, faded to locate it and wondered if it might be in that tower. He shot a sec-ond look at the tower, thinking something about it looked strange. It was equipped with two heavy dock-ing locks, one at ground level and the other near its summit, the former hooked up to a tunnel-tube. He would very much have liked to run a close sweep of the place to see if he could pick up a high concentra-tion of life forms that might indicate prisoners, but dared not for fear of counterdetection. Being caught probing the base would spell the end of the masquer-ade.

  He made an undistinguished approach, nothing fancy, revealing none of the FaIcons hidden capabili-ties. The attentive snouts of turbo-lasers tracked the ship exactingly. Ground control guided the starship down, and one of the tunnel-tubes snaked out, its folded skin extended by its servoframe, its hatch-mounted mouth sealing to the Millennium Falcons hull, swallowing the ships lowering ramp.

  Han shut down the engines. Atuarre, in the over-sized copilots seat, said, I tell you one last time, Solo-Captain I dont wish to be the one to do the speaking.

  He brought his chair around. Im no actor, Atuarre. Itd be different if we were just going to jump in, spring the prisoners, and kiss off, but I cant cut all that chitchat and play the role.

  They left the cockpit. Han was wearing a tight-cut black body suit, converted into a costume by the addition of epaulets, piping, shining braid, and a broad yellow sash, over which hed buckled his blaster. His boots were newly polished.

  Atuarre was bedecked at wrists, forearms, throat, forehead, and knees with bunches of multicolored streamers, Trianii attire for festivals and joyful occa-sions. Shed applied the exotic perfumes and formal scents of her species, using up the tiny supply she had in her belt pouch.

  I am no actress, either, she reminded him as they met the others at the ramp batch.

  Did you ever see a celebrity?

  Authority execs and their wives, when they came to our world as tourists.

  Han snapped his fingers. Thats it. Smug, dumb, and happy.

  Pakka was costumed as his mother was, wearing the scents appropriate to a pre-adolescent male. He handed his mother and Han long, billowing metallic capes, hers coppery and his an electric blue. Hans small wardrobe had been ransacked for material for the costumes, and the capes had come from the thin insulating layers of a tent from the ships survival gear.

  The fitting, seaming, and alternations had been a problem. Hen was all thumbs when it came to tailor-ing, and the Trianfi, of course, were a species who had never developed the art because they never wore anything but protective clothing. The solution had come in the form of BoUux, who had been pro-grammed for the necessary skills, among others, while serving a regimental commander during the Clone Wars.

  The ramp was already down; all that remained was to open the hatch. Luck to us all, Atuarre bade them softly. They piled hands, including Bolluxs cold metal ones, then Hen reached for the switch.

  As the hatch rolled up, Atuarre was still objecting.

  Solo-Captain, I still think you ought to be the one

  to--- At the foot of the ramp, the tunnel-tube was

  crammed with body-armored Espos brandishing heavy

  blasters, riot guns, gas projectors, fusion-cutters, and

  sapper charges. Whirling, Atuarre gushed, Oh, myl

  How thoughtfull My dears, theyve sent us a guard of

  honorV

  She touched up her glossy, fine-brnshed mane with one hand, smiling down at the Security Policemen charmingly. Hah wondered why hed ever worried.

  The Espos, keyed up for a shootout, stared popeyed as she swept down the ramp, the profusion of stream-ers rippling and snapping behind her, her cape shim-mering. Her steps sounded with the anklet-chimes that Han had run off for her from shipboard materials, using his small but complete tool locker.

  At the front of the Espo ranks was a battalion com-mander, a major, his black swagger stick held behind his back, spine stiff, face rigid with officiousness. Atuarre descended the ramp as if she were receiving the keys to the planet, waving as if to acknowledge a standing ovation.

  My dear, dear General, she halfsang, intention-ally giving the man a promotion, Im simply beyond words[ Viceprex Hirken is too kind, Im sure. And to you and your gallant men, thanks from Madam Atuarre and her Roving Performersl She swooped right up to him, ignoring the guns and bombs and other items of destruction, one hand playing with the majors ribbons and medals, the other waving her gratitude to the massed, dumbfounded Espos. A dark, high-blood-pressure blush rose out of the majors collar and climbed swiftly for his hairline.

  What is the meaning of this? he sputtered. Are you saying youre the entertainers Viceprex Hirken is expecting?

  Her face showed cute confusion. To be sure. You mean word of our arrival wasnt forwarded here to Stars End? The Imperial Entertainers Guild assured me it would communicate with you; I always demand adequate advanced billing.

  She swept a grand gesture back up the ramp.

  Gentlemenl Madam Atuarre presents her Roving Per-

  formers! First, Master Marksman, wizard of weap-

  onry, whose target-shooting tricks and glittering gun-

  play have astounded audiences everywhere[

  Han walked down the ramp, trying to look the part, sweating under the tunnel-tubes worklights. Atuarre and the others could use their real names with impunity here, since those names had never ap-peared in Authority files. But Hans might have, and so hed been forced into this new persona. He wasnt altogether sure he liked it now. When the Espos saw his blaster, weapons came up to cover him, and he was cautious to keep his hand away from it.

  But Atuarre was already chattering. And, to amaze

  and amuse you with feats of gymnastics and spell-

  binding acrobatics, Atuarre presents her pet prod-

  igym

  Han held up a hoop he had brought down with him. It was a ring-stabilizer off an old repulsor rig, but hed plated it and fitted it with an insulated hand-grip and a breadboarded distortion unit. Now he thumbed a switch, and the hoop became a circle of dancing light and waves of color as the distortion unit scrambled the visible spectrum, throwing off sparks and flares.

  -Pakka! Atuarre introduced. The cub dived through the harmless light-effects, bounced off the ramp, and executed a triple forward somersault, into a double twist, and ended bowing deeply to the sur-prised major. Han scaled the hoop back into the ship and stepped to one side.

  And lastly, Atuarre went on, that astonishing

  automaton, robotic raconteur, and machine of mirth

  and merriment, Bolluxl

  And the droid clanked stiffly down the ramp, long arms swinging, somehow making it all look like a military march. Hah had knocked out most of his dents and dings and applied a radiant paint job, five layers of scarlet liqui-gloss, as promised, with glinting silver pinstriping, painstakingly limned. The droid had been converted from an obsolescent into a classic. The mask-and-sunburst emblem of the Imperial Entertain-ers Guild embellished one side of his chest, a touch that Han had thought would raise their credibility.

  The Espo major was stumped. He knew Viceprex Hirken was expecting a special entertainment group, but was not aware of any clearance for ones arrival. Nevertheless, the Viceprex attached particular im-portance to his diversions and wouldnt take kindly to any meddling or delay. No, not kindly at all.

  The major put on as cordial an expression as his gruff face could achieve. I11 notify the Vieeprex of your arrival at once, Madam, ah, Atuarre?

  Yes, splendid! She gathered her cape for a curtsy and turned to Pakka. Fetch your props, my sweet. The cub skipped back up the ramp and returned a mo-ment later with several hoops, a balance-ball, and an assortment of lesser props scrounged up
aboard ship.

  IH escort you to Stars End, said the major. And Im afraid my men will have to hold on to your Mas-ter Marksmans weapon. You understand, Madam

  Standard Operating Procedure.

  Han steeled himself and handed his blaster over butt-first to an Espo sergeant as Atuarre nodded to the major. Of course, of course. We must never ignore the proprieties, must we? Now, my dear, dear Gen-eral, if youd be so gracious...

  He realized with a start that she was waiting for his arm, and extended it stiffly, his face livid. The Espos, knowing their commanding officers temper, hid their grins carefully. They formed up a hasty honor guard as Han hit the ramp control. The ramp pulled itself up quickly and the hatch rolled closed. They would reopen for no one but himself, Chewbacca, or one of the Trianii.

  The major, after sending a runner ahead, led the group off through the tunnel-tube mazework. They were a long walk from the tower, and passed through several of the tread-mounted junction stations, to the surprised gazes of black-coveralled tech controlmen. Their footsteps and Bolluxs clanking joints echoed through the tunnel-tubes, and the new arrivals noticed a gravity markedly lighter than the Standard gee main-tained onboard the Millennium Falcon. Air in the tubes had the tang of hydroponics recycling, a welcome change from shipboard.

  They came at last to a large, permanent air lock. Its outer hatch swung open at a verbal order from the major. Han caught a quick glimpse of what he knew must be the towers side, surrounded by the tunnel-tubes seal, that confirmed something hed thought hed sun when landing.

  Stars End, or at least the towers outer sheath, was molecularly bonded armor, of a single piece. That made it one of the most expensive buildings-no, he cor-rected hlmaelf, the most expensive building-Hah had ever seen. Enhancing the molecular bonding of dense metals was a costly process, and doing it on this scale was something hed simply never heard of.

  Inside the tower, they passed down a long, broad corridor to the central axis, which was a service core that also housed elevator banks. They were hurried along, with little chance to gawk, but they did see techs, Authority execs, and Espos coming and going. Stars End itself didnt appear to be particularly well manned, which didnt jell with the theory that it was a prison.