Rebel Force_ Target Part 12

A flood of relief washed over Han. "Close one, kid," he said, trying to keep his voice light. If Luke had fallen from the Podracer any sooner, or any later...If his chute had malfunctioned, or if the armorweave hadn't protected him from the flames...

Did Luke understand how close he'd come to the end? Han watched as Luke's horrified gaze took in the simmering ruins of the Podracer.

He understood.

"The engine flamed out," Luke said, taking a few hesitant steps. "Must have been a defective current filter. I should have had Artoo double check it before I took off. Next time I'll know better."

" Next time? Next time? " Leia shook her head. "Luke, there's not going to be a next time. You almost died. The Podracers destroyed." " Leia shook her head. "Luke, there's not going to be a next time. You almost died. The Podracers destroyed."

"Kenuun wants to win this race-he'll give us another one," Luke said confidently.

"And is he going to give us another one of you?"

"Give him a break, Princess." Han slung an arm around Luke. "The kid doesn't even know what he's saying."

Luke shrugged him off. "Yes I do. And a faulty current filter's not going to stop us from completing this mission. The Rebellion needs us to win this race."

The Rebellion needs you to live, Han thought.

But he kept his mouth shut.

Eventually, Luke got his way. Leia and Elad met with Kenuun in hopes of laying their hands on a second Podracer. The Muun had a hangar full of them-it seemed likely he'd be willing to produce another.

Han took Luke back to their makes.h.i.+ft campsite to rest. There were less than twenty-four hours to go before the race, and Luke knew every second counted. But he couldn't practice without a Podracer-and he had to admit, resting sounded good. His shoulder and back throbbed from the fall, and a deep series of sc.r.a.pes along his back flared with pain wherever his s.h.i.+rt brushed the skin.

It could have been worse, he reminded himself. Much worse. Much worse.

"Whatcha thinking?" Han asked, as they sat in front of their tent, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. A few of the Podracers swooped back and forth in the distance, getting in one more run before race day.

"I would've had it," Luke said. "I was getting control. If the engine hadn't flamed out-I would've had it."

"I know, kid," Han said.

Luke looked at him in surprise. "You do?"

Han shrugged. "Sure. Don't forget, I saw you take on the Death Star. I know what you can do."

"Maybe," Luke said. He'd been doing his best to act confident-but it was just that.

An act. He had to convince the others that he could fly the Podracer. It was the only way they'd go along with the plan. But Luke had seen a Podrace. He knew how fast the racers traveled, how challenging even a familiar course could be. How even in the best of circ.u.mstances, things could go wrong.

And when things went wrong in a Podrace, they went very wrong.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Han said, as if he could hear Luke's thoughts.

"I wouldn't."

"I have to," Luke said. "It's the only way. And I know I can win. At least...if the Force is with me."

"Just how big an 'if' are we talking here?" Han asked.

Luke drew his lightsaber. Instead of activating the beam, he just cradled the hilt in his hands. He found the heft of the cool metal comforting. A reminder of the person he was supposed to be. "I can't control it," Luke admitted. "The harder I try, the more impossible it seems."

"You know I don't think much of this Force of yours," Han began.

Luke sighed. He wasn't in the mood. "Can we just-"

"Slow down, kid," Han said. "Let me finish." He frowned at the lightsaber. "I think most of it's a bunch of mumbo jumbo, and if you ask me, that Ben of yours was a few sabacc cards short of a deck. But But-" He held up a hand to stop Luke from interrupting again. "He was a tough old guy. And he had...I don't know. Call it the Force, call it whatever you want. I saw him take on Vader-and that was something."

"Something, maybe. But not enough." Luke closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out the image of Vader's red beam striking that final, fatal blow.

"He knew what he was doing," Han said. "He could have run away, saved himself, sure. But he wasn't trying to save himself. He was trying to save you you. And he got you off that s.h.i.+p."

Luke shook his head. "But that's just it. He sacrificed himself for me me, so I could become a Jedi Knight-but I can't! can't! Not without him. I can't use the Force, not when I need it. I let him down." Not without him. I can't use the Force, not when I need it. I let him down."

"So quit."

Luke scowled. "I can't do that. I'm not-" He stopped himself.

"Me?" Han smiled wryly. "Thanks for the compliment."

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Right." Han got serious. "I don't mean you should quit the fight. I mean you should quit trying so hard. Look, I may not know about this Jedi stuff, but I know s.h.i.+ps, and I know flying flying. And what I know is that you've got to trust your s.h.i.+p. Let her tell you what she needs. The best pilots become part of their s.h.i.+ps. And that's not something you try try to do. You just do it. You've got to relax. Let it happen." to do. You just do it. You've got to relax. Let it happen."

Let go of your conscious self, Ben had urged him. Act on instinct. Act on instinct.

Maybe Han knew more about the Jedi way than he thought.

Han stood up, giving Luke a light slap on the back. "And when I say the best pilots, kid, I'm talking about you. Oh, one more thing."

"What?" Luke asked.

Han grinned. "Next time, try not to fall out."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

Han gulped down his second gla.s.s of lum. Chewbacca handed him another. They'd left Luke back at the campsite to study the map of the race circuit. Most of the other Podracers and their crew were crowded into a large tent, swigging drinks and swapping stories, and no one seemed to mind Han's presence. The noise helped drown out his thoughts.

When he'd left Luke, the kid had seemed more certain than ever that he could handle the Podrace. Thanks to you Thanks to you, he'd told Han. Now I know I can do it. Now I know I can do it.

Han just wished he could be so sure.

And he wished that Luke had never said that: Thanks to you. Thanks to you. Because now if something went wrong, Han would know exactly who to blame. Because now if something went wrong, Han would know exactly who to blame.

"Thought I'd find you two here," Elad said, pus.h.i.+ng his way through the crowd to join Han and Chewbacca.

"Any luck with Kenuun?" Han asked.

"One Keizar-Volvec KV9T9-B Wasp, with a top speed of 800 km per hour and a fully functioning current filter. Luke's testing it out right now-he didn't want an audience."

Han just grunted, and took another swallow of his lum. It was watery and lukewarm, but it did the trick.

"Leia's keeping an eye on him," Elad added.

"Kid's going to be fine," Han mumbled. "We should all just relax."

Elad nodded, but said nothing.

A Phlog appeared before them, his thick, greenish finger exploring the innards of his bulbous nose. "Rumor has it, you're the folks who killed Grunta," he growled.

Elad and Han exchanged a look. Chewbacca issued a warning growl. Han knew the prudent thing to do was deny it and walk away. That's what Leia would have advised.

"Rumor's right," Han said.

The Phlog yanked his finger out of his nose, used it to stir his drink, then gulped the lum down in one shot. "Hey, these are the guys who killed Grunta!" he shouted to the crowd.

All noise and motion immediately ceased. Every face turned toward Han, Elad, and Chewbacca.

Uh-oh, Han thought. But he was almost looking forward to a fight.

The crowd exploded into cheers. The Phlog slapped Han on the back and ordered another round of drinks. His treat.

"I'm guessing Grunta wasn't a friend of yours?" Han asked, starting to get the picture.

"That piece of bantha slime?" The Phlog spit out a wad of purple phlegm. It spattered on the ground inches from Han's boots. He held out a ma.s.sive, sticky hand for Han to shake. "Haari Ikreme Beeerd, at your service," he said. "Any enemy of Grunta is a friend to us all."

"You a Podracer?" Elad asked.

The Phlog shook his head, gesturing at his ma.s.sive bulk. He was three times the size of an average Podracer. "Crew-for Gilag Pitaaani over there." He pointed across the tent to a stubby Nuknog who was crus.h.i.+ng a bottle of fizzbrew against his k.n.o.bby skull. "We race for the Muun Chenik Kruun." Haari Ikreme unleashed a rapid string of chokes and coughs that Han suspected might be laughter. "A cold-blooded, emotionless sand snake if I ever saw one, but when he heard about Grunta's death, he nearly smiled smiled. Nothing would make him happier than beating Nal Kenuun."

"My master, too," a Glymphid put in, raising a mug of lum with the suction cup at the end of one of his spindly fingers. "All these Muuns, they hate each other. But one thing unites them-they hate Kenuun more."

"And why not?" Haari Ikreme said. "A colder, crueler being you'll never meet." He sputtered with his strange laughter again. "Unless you're a krayt dragon, that is."

"And why's that?" Elad asked.

"Haven't you heard?" Haari Ikreme asked in surprise. "Everyone knows that Kenuun loves nothing in this galaxy except his baby krayt dragon. The whole planet's laughing about it behind his back. Of course, the last one foolish enough to laugh in front of him learned his lesson."

"Kenuun punished him?" Han asked.

"Killed him," the Glymphid said.

"And his family," Haari Ikreme added. "Not that anyone could prove it. No, Kenuun's smart. Just not smart enough to find himself a pilot who could actually win the race."

"You should see what he's got racing for him," the Nuknog said, chortling. "We're taking bets on how quickly the human dies. Low bid's fifty, if you want in."

Chewbacca growled. Han put a hand on his shoulder. Weapons weren't allowed inside the tent, so they'd left their blasters back at the campsite. "Easy, buddy," he murmured.

"I saw him out there this afternoon," the Glymphid jeered. "Kenuun's making a joke out of this whole race. We'll be lucky if the human doesn't take us all down with him when he goes."

Haari Ikreme leaned toward Han. " I'll I'll be lucky if the human dies within the first ten kilometers," he whispered. "I've got two thousand riding on it. Cross your fingers for me." be lucky if the human dies within the first ten kilometers," he whispered. "I've got two thousand riding on it. Cross your fingers for me."

Now it was Chewbacca who warned Han to take it easy. But Han was beyond listening to warnings. "That's our friend friend you're talking about, buddy," Han said through gritted teeth. "And he's going to make it through that race and leave you all eating dust." you're talking about, buddy," Han said through gritted teeth. "And he's going to make it through that race and leave you all eating dust."

Haari Ikreme and his friends burst into laughter. "You're a funny one, Grunta-killer,"

he gasped. "I like you!"

"No blasters," murmured Elad, as a reminder.

Han ignored him. "Oh yeah? See how you like this this." And punched the Phlog in his squinched up, bulbous face.

The Glymphid was on top of him in seconds, grinding a small but powerful fist into Han's stomach. Elad leaped into the fray. He pulled the Glymphid off of Han and tossed him into the air.

"This your idea of relaxing?" Elad shouted, as he fended off a blow from the dazed Phlog, then pivoted around to kick a lunging Nuknog in the stomach.

"Haven't felt this relaxed in days!" Han shouted back, ducking just in time for two charging Sneevels to miss him and crash into each other. Soon every alien in the tent had entered the brawl. Kicks and punches flew wildly, bodies rolled through the dust.

Chewbacca had a Xexto and a Nuknog trapped in his mighty grasp. He roared as a Rodian broke a chair over his head. Han grabbed the Rodian by the shoulders and slammed him into the ground, leaping over his body just in time to avoid an Exodeenian's siX-armed punch.

Suddenly Haari Ikreme emerged from the chaos. He was holding a blaster pistol, aimed straight at Han. "Perhaps Grunta was a better friend to me than I knew," the Phlog said. "Perhaps he needs to be avenged."

"Easy, fella," Han said, stalling. "Aren't you forgetting something? What happens when my my friends decide to avenge me?" friends decide to avenge me?"

The Phlog c.o.c.ked his weapon. "Something tells me pulling this trigger will make me more new friends than I can count. In fact, I-"

He broke off, as a Glymphid sailed past them, slamming into the main strut holding up the tent. The strut snapped in two, toppling over and bringing the tent down on top of them with a soft sigh. Han took advantage of the distraction, knocking the blaster out of Haari Ikreme's hand. Before the Phlog could retaliate, he pushed his way through the fallen canvas, trying to find his way to the outside.

The brawl ended as the other fighters did the same, swiftly wriggling out from under the sunken tent. Han found Elad and Chewbacca, both bruised but intact.

"What do you say we get out of here," Han suggested, scanning the crowd for an angry Haari Ikreme. When it came to flash brawls like this, grudges were usually forgotten by morning.

But that was still a few hours away.

CHAPTER TWENTY.