Free Star by Star by Troy Denning Page A

Jedi?” Leia asked.
    “All of the pilotz, yes.”
    The blocky silhouette of a Damorian freighter eclipsed the tiny sun ahead, its glowing ion drives sliding across the cockpit canopy as Han brought the
Falcon
in behind it. The smaller disk of a YT-1300 appeared below them and a little off to one side, its back painted in a patternless kaleidoscope of the primary colors so favored by the Arcona. The Headhunters were barely visible, a trio of tiny black crosses chasing the bolts of their laser cannons up the
Roamer
’s half-kilometer hull.
    Han spoke over the intercom. “Ladies, we’re counting on you to take out the drive nacelles. Izal, why don’t you handle the tractor beam?”
    “On my way.”
    The Arcona unbuckled his harness and rose. The mere sight of the massive hull ahead was enough to convince Leia they could not change its vector in time.
    “Han,” she said, “this isn’t the way to do it.”
    Han half turned in his seat. “I’m listening.”
    “Won’t there be an escape hatch above the bridge?”
    “Yeah—locked from the inside,” Han said.
    “Doesn’t matter,” Leia said. “We have Jedi.”
    Han frowned. “The CorDuro crew will be waiting.”
    “So?” Tesar asked. “We have Jedi.”
    For some reason even Izal Waz did not seem to understand; this sent Tesar into a fit of sissing. Leia waved the back of her fingers at Han.
    “We have five minutes,” she said. “I can handle the cofferdam.”
    “Four and a half minutes,” Izal Waz corrected, stepping to the back of the flight deck.
    “Two will do.” Tesar began to siss again. “We have Jedi.”
    “Right.” Han drew his blaster and passed it to Leia. “I just hope we still have Jedi when this is done.”
    Leia led the way to the port docking ring, where Bela and Krasov were already waiting in their brown Jedi robes. They were a terrifying contrast to Izal Waz, who if the truth was told, looked rather comical in his ragged flight tabard.
    Han set the
Falcon
on edge and brought it into position over the docking ring. The
Roamer
attempted to slide out from under them, but Han was too good a pilot to let such a cumbersome ship outmaneuver him. Leia put the cofferdam over the docking ring on the third try, then activated the magnetic clamp and pressurized the passage.
    “Three minutes,” Han warned. “If you can’t—”
    Tesar opened the hatch—and promptly hissed as a blaster bolt caught him in the shoulder. From her chair, Leia glimpsed a charging crew member in a CorDuro uniform and squeezed off two shots, then the two Hara sisters were leaping through the door with lit lightsabers. The human gurgled and thumped to the floor. A pair of blaster rifles opened up from the opposite hatch. The tunnel filled with flashes and hums and zings for about two seconds, then the sounds began to recede as the Barabels carried the battle into the
Roamer
.
    Izal Waz followed, stepping over two bodies in the cofferdam and kicking another out of the way as he boarded the freighter. Tesar was slower to react, pulling the cloth away from his shoulder to reveal the smoking hole and scorched scales beneath.
    Leia moved her chair forward. “Tesar, how bad?”
    “Bad,” he growled. “My best robe.” He stuck a claw through the hole. “This really burnz me.”
    Then, sissing with hilarity, he leapt through the hatch and followed his companions into the
Star Roamer
.
    Leia stared after him in dumbfounded silence. When the hatch at the other end of the cofferdam closed, she sealed the
Falcon
’s hatch and withdrew the cofferdam, then checked her chronometer.
    Two minutes.
    She activated the intercom. “Han, we’re clear. Maybe we can buy a little time if we use the—”
    “Don’t need to,” Han replied. “The
Roamer
has cut her throttles and is turning outbound.”
    “They’re surrendering?” Leia asked. “Good. Maybe now we can find out who wants me dead.”
    “Uh, maybe not,” Han said. “They’re not exactly surrendering.”
    “Not