Free Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare by A.C. Crispin

followed Thrackan into the room, but as he already knew, there was nowhere to run …
    Han shook his head and refused to let himself think about the days that had followed. Shrike had been held back in his punishment only by the fact that he hadn’t wanted to “damage” Han permanently because of his growing reputation as an expert speeder and swoop pilot. But there had been lots of things he could do that wouldn’t cause permanent damage, and he had done most of them …
    The only time Han had been beaten more severely was after the debacle on Jubilar, when he was seventeen. Han had already been bruised and sore from the gladitorial Free-For-All he’d been forced to fight in, after being caught cheating at cards. That time, Shrike hadn’t bothered with a strap, he’d just used his fists—battering the boy’s face and body until Larrad and several others had pulled him off Han’s unconscious form.
    And now he’s killed Dewlanna
, Han thought bitterly.
If anyone ever needed killing, it’s Garris Shrike
.
    For a moment he wondered why it had never occurred to him to kill the unconscious Shrike before he’d made his getaway aboard the
Ylesian Dream
. He’d have been doing the inhabitants of
Trader’s Luck
a favor. Why hadn’t he? He’d had the blaster in his hand …
    Han shook his head. He’d never shot anyone before yesterday, and killing an unconscious man just wasn’t his style.
    But Han knew, without being told, that if Garris Shrike ever caught up with him in the future, he was a dead man. The captain never forgot and he never forgave. He specialized in carrying grudges against anyone who had ever wronged him.
    Han got up again to check their course, and his air pak.Only a few hours worth of air left, now. He did some mental calculations, while staring at the display.
Close. It’s going to be close. I’d better be ready to pop the cargo door on this crate as soon as we land … It’s going to be very, very close …

A lthough he’d flown hundreds of hours in swoops and speeders, Han’s experience with piloting larger vessels was confined to the times Garris Shrike had permitted him to pilot the
Luck
’s shuttle on easy runs. He’d taken off and landed, but he’d never before tried to land anything as large as the robot freighter. Han hoped he’d be able to handle it. He had confidence in his ability as a pilot—after all, hadn’t he been the junior speeder champion of all Corellia three years running? And, last year, hadn’t he won the swoop racing championship of the entire Corellian system?
    Still, compared to the
Luck
’s shuttle, this freighter was
huge …
    Han dozed again, then when he awoke, roved restlessly around the cabin, knowing he should be conserving his energy and his air, but unable to stop himself.
    “Sir?” The R2 unit that had been so quiet for so many hours suddenly came back to life. “I must advise you that we have reached the orbit of Ylesia. You must stand ready to make your descent and landing.”
    “Thanks for telling me,” Han said. Going over to the control banks, he scanned the instruments, mentally calculating their descent. This wasn’t going to be easy. He had no way to interface with the navicomputer, except via the R2 unit. A pilot had to make split-second decisions, at times, and in cases like that, Han wouldn’t be able to wait for the R2 unit to reply.
    The ship suddenly shivered, then rocked slightly.
    They were hitting atmosphere, Han realized.
    He took a deep breath and glanced at his air pak reading, realizing it was going to be close … very, very close.
    Here we go
, he thought, switching to manual control of the
Ylesian Dream
. “Hey, R2,” he said tightly, adjusting his course slightly.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Wish me luck.”
    “I-beg-your-pardon, sir, this unit is not—”
    Han swore, and the
Ylesian Dream
headed down, for the surface of a planet he couldn’t even see. He
could
see the sensor readouts and the infrared