Han allows the rocks to grind for a moment, then jumps. He lands in a crouch just as they fall silent. After groping about for an instant, he takes shelter behind a nearby boulder. Soon, he determines that similar boulders surround him. They crack and smash against each other as the rumbling belt carries them deeper into the formless dark. He will have to be careful to avoid being smashed. Han feels uncomfortably warm.
As he stands, Han grows aware of vague, unseen protrusions whistling past his head as the belt whisks him forward. A faint light silhouettes a boulder ten meters ahead. Even as he watches, the light fades.
“Don’t shut down!” Han hollers.
“Who’s that?” demands the Droid’s weak voice.
Han does not answer. Instead, he cautiously inches his way forward. Though his legs buckle with each step, the pilot eventually works his way down the belt’s uncertain surface and stands above the tiny Droid. It uses its lumination appendage to inspect Han.
“What do you want, Mac?”
“To get you out of here,” Han says, “if you get that light out of my eyes. How badly are you damaged?”
“I’m a goner.” The Droid turns the light on itself. It lies wedged between two boulders. It had extended six appendages from its body in an attempt to right itself. Each appendage is now twisted or bent back toward its body in a useless knot. Its body, trapped as it is between two immense rocks, has suffered a hundred pinches and punctures.
Han tries to punch one of the boulders away. He cannot budge it. When he gives up at last, sweat is rolling down his brow in waves. The temperature has grown hotter.
“Forget it, fella. I’ve got an energy leak.”
“Great,” Han says. “So tell me where Leia is.”
The Droid’s light fades. “I don’t know. Some dame got an outfit from the bossl the message was part of the deal.”
“An outfit?” Han asks.
“You know, a ‘free-freighter.’ A fast one, too”
The belt bounces, nearly knocking Han from his feet. The rocks trapping the Droid shift pinching its body even more. The Droid lets out a series of pops and whistles. “You’d better blow this joint,” it says. Static nearly obscures its voice beyond understanding.
Above the belt’s rumble, Han now hears a steady roar. It issues from directly ahead. He peers over a boulder. The belt ends fifty meters ahead and empties its cargo into a deep pit. The pit does not alarm Han as much as the reason he can see it – great white and yellow flames flicker high above its edge.
Han turns back to the Droid. “Who’s your owner?”
“It’s curtains for us,” the Droid responds. “It’s curtains…It’s curtains…It’s curtains…”
Han knows the Droidd will answer no more questions. He searches its body and discovers an etching which reads, “For the esteemed C.L. May we do business soon, B.R.”
Without further delay, Han scrambles to the top of a boulder and leaps away from the belt. He lands on the dark walkway and rolls several times. Han watches the belt dumb the Droid into the pit. The flames flash blue, and then fire swallows the metal body. The smuggler starts back up the corrido. Within twenty meters he once again gropes his way through absolute darkness. Finally, Chewbacca calls out ahead. He has waited at the junctureof the halls, still facing the conveyor belt. “Over here, Chewie!” Han calls. “Let’s get out of here.”
Four dark hours later, they emerge from the corridor into the light of Ord Mantell’s blue sun. The tunnel opens into an immense robotic coal yard. “Fossil fuels!” Han comments. “No wonder Ord Mantell is so barren.”
Chewbacca utters a disgusted groan and brushes a thick coat of black dust from his fur.
“Yeah,” Han says. “Let’s get back to the Falcon.”