Motives
"I can fly anything." ~Han Solo
Prologue Part 4
Imperial Outpost on the borders of Kashyyyk (9BBY) …
Han and Watts walked up to the landing pad indicated on the message wafer. "When the man said old he wasn't kidding," Watts observed.
"Let's just hope these codes work," Han said, stepping beneath the belly of the starship and accessing the control panel.
"This thing's probably got an ancient navigation system and the gods only know what version power core. Think you can fly it?"
As Watts finished speaking the ship made a noise that sounded cantankerous and the gangway popped open with a bang. "I can fly anything," Han said, as he folded the message wafer up into his pocket and made his way into the ship.
The pair made their way quickly through the rounded corridors of the saucer-shaped ship. Han slid into the pilot's seat and took one long second to scan the controls and get his bearings. "It's an old Rubicon, alright," he said, as he began flipping switches and further studying the large, intimidating console.
"I'm afraid I won't be much help," Watts replied, strapping himself into the co-pilot's seat and doing his best not to touch a thing.
"Told you not to sleep through flight sims."
"Funny thing is, I only crashed a few times."
"The newer models nearly fly themselves, but these," Han said, his voice filled with awe. "These babies were made for real pilots. That guy must've been pretty good to fly her all alone."
"Well, let's hope you're as good as he was, because that other transport is lifting off. We should try to get out ahead of them if we can."
"Yeah, about that," Han said, looking out the viewport toward the other ship lifting off in the distance. "I was thinking about making a small detour."
"Do I even have to guess?"
Han turned his body to face Watts. "They had to have been a distraction to let the others escape. A suicide team."
"And you want to steal all their glory?"
"I put a few of them in there. I'd like a chance to take 'em out."
For a moment the two old friends just stared at each other. Han was determined. Watts was inspired. "Let's do it," he finally said. "It's not like we haven't caused enough trouble for one day."
Han smiled and then made the last preparations to lift the ship up on its thrusters. "Press that when I tell ya," he said, pointing at a large, well-worn button. "And hold that lever there and...just try to keep us level."
Han pulled back on one handle and pushed forward very slowly on another. "Now," he directed and Watts pushed the indicated button. The ship groaned and creaked and coughed steam as it lifted off of the humid soil of Kashyyyk and into the air. Just a few feet up and the large ship tilted, crashing down on the landing skids that had not yet been raised. Han's teeth slammed together and his head rattled. The ship's once docile command console screamed in alarms and lit up with reds, oranges and very few greens. "Hold her steady," Han yelled while pressing buttons and fighting with the control yoke.
"I'm trying," Watts replied, sweat beading on his forehead and his own teeth gnashed together in concentration. "She's fighting me like a Tarisian schoolgirl."
The ship lurched forward and then careened to the right, smashing into a small docked Imperial military vessel. "Shavit!" Han cursed as he overcompensated and tilted the ship sharply to the left nearly standing it on its end.
Fighting every instinct to yank back to the right and flip the entire ship the other way, Han maneuvered the yoke slowly back to the right and got the ship back to nearly level. "Alright," he said with a heavy breath. Then scanning the area around them he pointed, "over there," indicating the large trench where the Wookiees were. "We just have to make it a few hundred feet."
"Easy enough, look how well we've gone nowhere so far," Watts replied. "Let's just try not to land on top of them. Or scorch their fur off with our thrusters."
"Good plan."
The old freighter wobbled and meandered until it finally reached the backside of the Wookiee's makeshift bunker. Han set the ship down with another tooth-clattering jolt and was rewarded with a several more red blinking lights on the console and even louder beeping and honking alarms.
"I didn't think one ship could have this many alarms," Han grumbled as he pressed and depressed a medley of buttons trying to appease the angry console.
"What happened to: I can fly anything?" Watts asked, as he unbuckled his restraints.
"She's just gotta warm up to me," Han replied, silencing one very distinct sounding alarm and introducing two more.
"Yeah, that's just-" Watts began but was cut off by the sound of blaster fire grazing against the hull. "Incoming!" He yelled, turning around to look at where the enemy fire was coming from. "It's the damn Wookiees! They're firing at us!"
"Of course they are," Han replied, heading out of the cockpit and down the corridor of the ship. "They think we're Imperials."
Han lowered the boarding ramp and peeked out from inside of the ship. He was several yards from the hunkered down Wookiees and the sounds of blaster fire, war cries and bombs drowned everything else out. The besieged Wookiees had turned their attention back to the approaching Imperials, giving Han and Watts a short reprieve.
"Now what?" Watts asked.
"I don't know. I didn't think this far."
"We gotta let 'em know we're friendly."
Han looked down at both of them and then immediately began to remove his buttoned-down shirt. "These uniforms won't help," he said as he stripped down to his undershirt and Watts did the same.
They looked out again. A couple of AT-STs were approaching from the other side of the trench.
"Let's go take those walkers out with the turret guns. That oughta send a message."
Han looked over at the approaching machines. "Yeah, that's a good idea."
The pair scrambled to the turret bubbles and warmed up the guns. They made quick work of the two approaching AT-STs and by the time they made it back to the landing ramp a few Wookiees were breaking off and heading their way.
"Come on. Come on," Han waved them on and the uneasy Wookiees sprinted the rest of the way. As soon as the first few were up the ramp, the remainder of the group vacated the trench and ran towards them. Han and Watts provided cover fire with their carbines and six more Wookiees made it the ship and up the gangway.
"Woo hoo," Han yelled as he turned to the ship's control panel and started to close the ramp.
A large forceful shove came out of nowhere and Han was knocked back against the other wall.
"Whoa, easy now," Watts warned, turning his blaster from pointing out of the ship and onto the irate Wookiee standing between him and Han.
The Wookiee moaned and gestured wildly, pointing back toward the trenches.
"I think he wants to go back," Watts ventured.
"Yeah," Han answered, rubbing his shoulder where it had hit the padded wall. "For what?"
The Wookiee continued to hoot and wave his arms profusely as Han and Watts squinted their eyes to study the abandoned trench off in the distance.
"There's nothing," Watts dismissed, as blaster fire began to batter the ship once the cover fire had ceased.
"I don't know," Han mumbled. "I think-yeah, I see it. There's one alive out there."
The Wookiee barked and patted Han on the back enough to make his knees nearly buckle beneath him. "Alright, alright, big guy. We'll go back and get 'im."
"Are you crazy? The Imps are coming out of the woodwork now and you want to trot out there and drag back a half dead Wookiee?"
The Wookiee growled loudly at Watts and Han held him back. "Just cover us and we'll go."
Watts looked at Han and the Wookiee, studying them both for a moment. "No," he said. "You're better with a scope. You provide cover and I'll go with him."
The Wookiee didn't seem to care who went with him as he grabbed Watts by the arm and began to drag him down the gangway. An argument died on Han's lips as he watched the ground by Watts' feet churn up from blaster fire. "Gimme one minute, will ya?" He cried, as he turned around and made his way to the upper turret.
As soon as the ship's heavy artillery began firing, the Imperials fell back. Except for dodging the occasional sniper rifle blast, Watts and the Wookiee made it to the trench without incident. Han watched as the pair bent and appeared to start attempting to move an injured Wookiee. Another sniper shot landed dangerously close to the trio and all three of them ducked into the trench where Han couldn't see.
Han swung the turret around in the direction of the sniper. He adjusted his scope and trained his weapon on a small encampment on top of an outlying building. There was no movement, yet something told him his target was there. He lined up the sights and carefully squeezed the trigger. Almost instantaneously, a flash of impact lit up the top of the durasteel building and a small, black-suited figure slumped forward and fell.
"Yeah!" Han cheered as he swiveled his gun back to the redoubt only to find that an AT-ST had approached the trench while he had been taking down the sniper.
"Shavit," Han cursed as he set his sights on his new target.
The AT-ST rocked as it walked closer to the trench and Han's first shot missed. He lined it up again, the AT-ST swiveled its head toward Watts and the two Wookiees. Han squeezed the trigger. The AT-ST shot out a burst of blaster fire and Han watched in slow motion as it tore through the huddled group in the trench just as Han's shot made impact and the AT-ST fell to the ground.
Han's eyes were trained on the smoke-filled redoubt. "C'mon, c',mon," he whispered. "Somebody give me something."
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the haze cleared and Han saw one Wookiee waving its arm toward the ship.
Han jumped out of the turret and slid down the ladder. "Can anyone work a turret gun?" He yelled at the group of Wookiees.
Several Wookiees walked forward and Han directed them to the top and belly gun. "Why didn't I think of that before?" He mumbled as he ran toward the trench under the cover fire of the old ship.
The Wookiee became more and more animated as Han approached. When Han reached the muddy redoubt he dove for cover and squatted behind the small rampart. That was when he saw Watts splayed out at the bottom of the ditch. Next to him, another Wookiee barked and moaned in pain. Watts wasn't moving at all.
"Watts? Buddy?" Han called as he crouched down beside his friend. Watts' face was black with dirt and soot and at the sound of Han's voice his eyes opened, white and wide. "Watts!" The injured man reached a hand out and Han took it in his own. "Hang in there," Han ordered as he looked up and over towards the ship and then back down at his friend.
Watts' hand squeezed Han's. "I'm out, Slick," he choked out and coughed up blood as he spoke.
Han looked down and saw nothing but a bloody pulp and shrapnel where his friend's torso should be. "C'mon, Watts. Don't leave me."
Watts squeezed his hand around Han's and scrunched his eyelids down on the pain. "Hey, you know what they always say…," he grunted through clenched teeth.
"What's that, pal?"
"If you're gonna die, you might as well die trying."
Watt's eyes remained shut and Han felt his friend's hand go limp in his. The lines on his face relaxed and went smooth. He was gone. Han choked back on the tears threatening to come. "Nobody says that, Watts," he whispered for the last time.
A loud Wookiee roar broke the moment and Han looked up just in time to see the feet of an Imperial soldier right at the top of the trench and as his eyes traveled upward Han was met with a blaster rifle leveled right at his head. "That's about right," he said to the soldier as he watched the Imperial carefully place his finger on the trigger and begin to squeeze.
A blaster shot from somewhere behind the soldier tore through the back of his skull and ripped out his left cheek. Blood and bone splattered across Han's face as the would-be assassin's rifle went off into the dirt and the officer slumped onto the ground in front of him.
Stunned and at first unable to comprehend what had happened, Han stood there dumbfounded already expecting to be dead himself but not yet able to understand why he was not. A Wookiee shook Han's shoulder and gestured wildly for him to retreat with his wounded comrade as he pointed and gestured toward the ship. In a daze, Han looked back toward the Imperial camp and tried to discover where the blaster fire that had saved his life could've come from.
The area was riddled with fallen soldiers and smoldering AT-STs and at first Han did not see anything at all. And then his eyes landed on the small building where he and Watts had stopped for a moment and planned their escape route over the trench and toward the landing field. There, one lone officer stood with his blaster trained right on Han. For the second time in as many seconds, Han prepared himself to die drawing in a deep breath that he fully expected to be his last.
In that long, tense moment recognition flooded into Han. The man staring back at him was Commodore Rutien. The Commodore stood with his blaster trained on Han, his eyes hard and piercing, his stare a weapon of its own. And then, slowly, inexplicably, Rutien lowered his weapon.
Han stood transfixed, unable to comprehend what was going on. The Wookiee shook him again and a few stray blaster spatters shook him back awake. He took one last look back at the Commodore. The man stood there at full attention and watched as Han and the Wookiee loaded the wounded Wookiee on their shoulders and walked him back toward the ship.