“You make sense,” Han says. “We’ll wait here.”
Sodarra sighs and smiles. “You are a good judge of character,” he says. “I will need some method of reporting back – in case there is trouble.”
Han gives Sodarra his comlink.
After Sodarra leaves, Chewbacca growls a question.
“What can he do?” Han responds. “Any trouble from him and Vader pops like a Rigorian bloodmite.”
Chewbacca rumbles uneasily.
Time crawls. Waiting has never been Han’s strong point, and the tension on board the freighter mounts in direct proportion to the time elapsing.
At last, the Wookiee pushes himself to his feet.
“Maaurrgh, roauuungh?”
“No!” Han snaps immediately. “What if he comes back when you’re out? We need to stay in touch.”
Reluctantly, Chewie nods. But he doesn’t return to his seat, instead prowling around the ship in search of an outlet for his frustration.
Han perches tensely in the pilot’s chair. Where is Sodarra? Could he have figured some way around the smuggler’s precautions? He could kick himself for giving a comlink to an obviously untrustworthy scout. Better to have braved Jabba’s minions –
The comlink on the console crackles. Sodarra’s voice comes in low and clear.
“Captain, my report.”
Han grabs the thin cylinder, bellowing over his shoulder for the co-pilot.
“There are eight desperate-looking creatures in the tavern. I overheard one of them say that Alfreda is running late.”
“Interesting,” Han says. He motions to the Wookiee. “Let’s go.”
Chewie cocks his head toward the stormtroopers now at attention in the lounge.
“Oh, year.” The Corellian raises his voice slightly. “Action, guys. We’re meeting your captain at the cantina.”