IF nervous people feel butterflies in their stomachs, Han is feeling bats. The walker has appeared out of nowhere, like a void spider in pursuit of warm blood. But the walker is more dangerous.
“Shields forward!” Han yells. Chewbacca has anticipated his command. He punches a button and the Falcon’s full shield completment is angled forward.
The walker fires again. Two red energy bolts explode in front of the cockpit. The shields reflect the concussion back at the mammoth vehicle, rocking it badly. Before the Imperial gun crew regains its bearings, Han turns the Falcon away and accelerates out of range.
Chewbacca snaps an angry comment. The belly gunwell damage indicator flashes on and off.
“I’ve been working just as hard,” Han responds. “Don’t blame me.” He pulls the Falcon into a steep climb.
“Ooouugharr?”
“How about him?” Han says, jerking his thumb toward Sodarra. “He’s the one they want.”
“Eeeoogh!”
“Okay, so picking him up was my idea. But you can bet Leia isn’t paying for this trip!” They exit the atmosphere.
When they pass Mon Torri’s rings, Han breathes a sigh of relief. The Eradicator is nowhere in sight. As the nav computer calculates the hyperspace course, the two smugglers let Lieutenant Birdloe monitor the cockpit while they inspect the damage to the belly. They have suffered a few loose connections, but nothing crippling. Chewbacca can repair the damage in flight.
Han returns to the cockpit and takes the Falcon into hyperspace.