“We are amused, Captain Solo.”
This brought a long round of sissing, which Han did his best to ignore as he interrogated the sensor computer for more details.
“They are not fellas,” Tesar confided quietly. “They are sisters. We are all hatchmates.”
“Hatchmates?” Han echoed, his attention fixed on the details scrolling down his display. “Like wives?”
“Wives!” Tesar broke into an uncontrollable fit of hissing and slapped his chair arm so hard he nearly broke it. “Now is no time for off-color jokes, Captain.”
From what the mass meters and infrared analyzers were showing, the frigate was one of the stripped-down versions that had been converted to planetary customs use. It would have an advanced sensor suite, overpowered tractor beam, and huge hangar bay—but only six cannon towers and civilian-class shields. And while most pirates would have loved to get their hands on such a ship, it was hardly likely. They would have had to steal it from a planetary government.
Han opened a comm channel. “Anonymous customs frigate, this is the
Millennium Falcon.
” The ship came into view, a tiny sliver of light glowing against the starry backdrop of empty space. “Explain your actions.”
There was a moment’s pause, then a haughty Kuati voice said, “Our actions speak for themselves. Prepare for capture and boarding, and you will be treated fairly.”
Han started to make a rude reply, then thought better of it. “Do we have another choice?”
“Not if you wish to live. Frigate out.”
The channel had barely closed before Tesar growled, “You would surrender your mate?”
“It was a lie, Tesar. You’ve been spending too much time with Selonians.”
Han lowered the energy shields and powered down the ion drives, then swung the
Falcon
’s nose around as though surrendering to the inevitable. The frigate began to grow rapidly larger,in the space of a few breaths swelling from the size of a sliver to that of a finger.
“Okay, uh, ladies, when we get to the hangar bay—”
“We understand what to do, Captain,” came the reply.
“You know where—”
“The projector
and
the backup,” rasped the other sister. “And both at once, or the generatorz will reverse and send us tumbling out of control. We have studied our schematicz.”
Han checked the systems display and saw that the sisters had already turned the
Falcon
’s cannon turrets away in a gesture of submission. Thinking his plan just might work, he turned to finish his calculations. The new Commenor coordinates were already glowing on the display, along with those for the rendezvous Tesar had recommended instead.
“Both setz are accurate,” the Barabel assured him. “The choice is yourz.”
“Thanks.”
The frigate was as long as his forearm now, and so brightly lit Han could see the cannon turrets mounted along its spine and belly. He transferred the Commenor coordinates to the navicomputer. Tesar’s pupils narrowed, but he managed to keep his tongue from flicking—too much.
“Look, I trust you,” Han said. “But we’d just lead them straight to your rendezvous. There’s a homing beacon somewhere on this bird, and we can’t look for it until we land someplace.”
Tesar turned away, as though he was convinced Han was making excuses. “The beacon will be in something you brought aboard. We removed the one the docking officer planted in the strutz.”
Han raised his brow. “You’ve been watching the
Falcon
?”
“Yes, since Jedi Waz realized who you were.” As he spoke, Tesar continued to look out the side of the canopy. “We, uh,
discussed
whether to tell you, but our Master’s instructionz were to remain hidden. She is not going to be pleased, especially when we miss the rendezvous.”
“Sorry to cause you trouble,” Han said. As large as a hovercar, the frigate filled the forward viewport. All six weapons turrets were turned in the
Falcon
’s direction, the barrels of their deadlylaser cannons
This brought a long round of sissing, which Han did his best to ignore as he interrogated the sensor computer for more details.
“They are not fellas,” Tesar confided quietly. “They are sisters. We are all hatchmates.”
“Hatchmates?” Han echoed, his attention fixed on the details scrolling down his display. “Like wives?”
“Wives!” Tesar broke into an uncontrollable fit of hissing and slapped his chair arm so hard he nearly broke it. “Now is no time for off-color jokes, Captain.”
From what the mass meters and infrared analyzers were showing, the frigate was one of the stripped-down versions that had been converted to planetary customs use. It would have an advanced sensor suite, overpowered tractor beam, and huge hangar bay—but only six cannon towers and civilian-class shields. And while most pirates would have loved to get their hands on such a ship, it was hardly likely. They would have had to steal it from a planetary government.
Han opened a comm channel. “Anonymous customs frigate, this is the
Millennium Falcon.
” The ship came into view, a tiny sliver of light glowing against the starry backdrop of empty space. “Explain your actions.”
There was a moment’s pause, then a haughty Kuati voice said, “Our actions speak for themselves. Prepare for capture and boarding, and you will be treated fairly.”
Han started to make a rude reply, then thought better of it. “Do we have another choice?”
“Not if you wish to live. Frigate out.”
The channel had barely closed before Tesar growled, “You would surrender your mate?”
“It was a lie, Tesar. You’ve been spending too much time with Selonians.”
Han lowered the energy shields and powered down the ion drives, then swung the
Falcon
’s nose around as though surrendering to the inevitable. The frigate began to grow rapidly larger,in the space of a few breaths swelling from the size of a sliver to that of a finger.
“Okay, uh, ladies, when we get to the hangar bay—”
“We understand what to do, Captain,” came the reply.
“You know where—”
“The projector
and
the backup,” rasped the other sister. “And both at once, or the generatorz will reverse and send us tumbling out of control. We have studied our schematicz.”
Han checked the systems display and saw that the sisters had already turned the
Falcon
’s cannon turrets away in a gesture of submission. Thinking his plan just might work, he turned to finish his calculations. The new Commenor coordinates were already glowing on the display, along with those for the rendezvous Tesar had recommended instead.
“Both setz are accurate,” the Barabel assured him. “The choice is yourz.”
“Thanks.”
The frigate was as long as his forearm now, and so brightly lit Han could see the cannon turrets mounted along its spine and belly. He transferred the Commenor coordinates to the navicomputer. Tesar’s pupils narrowed, but he managed to keep his tongue from flicking—too much.
“Look, I trust you,” Han said. “But we’d just lead them straight to your rendezvous. There’s a homing beacon somewhere on this bird, and we can’t look for it until we land someplace.”
Tesar turned away, as though he was convinced Han was making excuses. “The beacon will be in something you brought aboard. We removed the one the docking officer planted in the strutz.”
Han raised his brow. “You’ve been watching the
Falcon
?”
“Yes, since Jedi Waz realized who you were.” As he spoke, Tesar continued to look out the side of the canopy. “We, uh,
discussed
whether to tell you, but our Master’s instructionz were to remain hidden. She is not going to be pleased, especially when we miss the rendezvous.”
“Sorry to cause you trouble,” Han said. As large as a hovercar, the frigate filled the forward viewport. All six weapons turrets were turned in the
Falcon
’s direction, the barrels of their deadlylaser cannons