Star Wars Journal - Hero for Hire by Han Solo by Donna Tauscher Read Free Book Online

Those guys had me so worked up that I actually chased a whole pack of them down the corridor single-handedly, screaming like a demented Wookiee—
    Chewbacca: Vowraaark!
    Han: No offense, pal, but you joined me, which proves that you actually are a demented Wookiee. Ha, ha, ha, ha!!!
    Excuse our laugh attack, Sai’da. Just a moment’s reprieve.
    Well, our little wild foray after the stormtroopers gave Luke and Leia a chance to run for the Falcon . But the troopers suddenly figured out that a crazy man and a Wookiee weren’t much of a match for a squad of heavily armed goons. Guess who was on the run then?
    Chewie and I took quite a tour of the Death Star, making our way back to the docking bay. We figured there was no point leading them right to the Falcon .
    The first wrong turn led us somewhere we definitely didn’t belong. We were looking at enough spanking-new Imperial fighters to torment the entire galaxy. These guys knew how to run an Empire. Made my blood run cold just thinking what the Death Star could do. Chewbacca and I looked at each other and those ships, and I said, “If and when we reach the Falcon , we’re outta here—with or without company!”
    But Chewie kept telling me that they’d be there. I tried to remind him that he was being awfully concerned about someone who had called him a walking carpet.
    “What about Luke and Ben?” you might ask.
    I mean, I’m not so sure I would have been able to leave them either, but I was willing to consider that solution.
    We needed to get back to the docking bay, but at this point we were a little turned around. All right, we were lost. The Death Star is a maze. We made small forays down corridors that ended at locked doors. Things seemed unnaturally quiet after all the excitement we’d been through. It made us jumpy, hearing our footsteps echoing down hallway after hallway. I had to wonder, Where was everybody?
    When we came to the next shut door Chewie was so frustrated he slammed his fist into it. Unbelievably, it opened. We looked at each other. Since no one was firing on us yet from the other side, we stepped in. What a trip! We were in the stormtroopers living quarters.
    Chewie immediately throws me against the wall. But before I could protest, he points to a small camera attached to a metal arm extending from the far side of the ceiling. Just one—scanning the center of the room. The Imperials weren’t even taking a chance on their own boys. I bet one nasty word about the Empire and you’re jettisoned into space. It was a bad scene all the way around.
    I said living quarters, but it was more like an insect colony. Shiny white beds were stacked ten high in rows covering a good portion of the room. Each bed had a monitor attached to it no bigger than my two fists. Every now and then some of them would flicker on and an announcement would be made. I wonder if those guys got any sleep what with the Empire keeping them informed all the time.
    There was another door on the far side of the room, right below the camera. We slid along the walls, which were metal and cold to the touch, to the door. I put my hand on a place in the door that had a small indention, and the door opened. Looked like it was a storage area for all the stormtroopers’ gear. One of the tall, podlike lockers was open, and a familiar white suit hung inside.
    Chewie and I were wondering what to do next when we heard someone enter the living quarters. There was nothing to hide behind. We just had to hope that no one needed anything inside. We had our blasters ready, but I was not wanting to call attention to myself in that no-exit environment.
    We weren’t sure how many came in, but when they took off their helmets there were just two guys talking. It was an odd experience listening to them talk. I guess I thought they were going to have voices like droids and talk about the glories of the Empire or something. Instead, they were wondering when they got leave. One of them wanted to see his