Read more
Informationen zum Autor A.C. Crispin was the author of the bestselling Han Solo Trilogy . Ms. Crispin writes in her own universes, including her seven book StarBridge series and Storms of Destiny . She also created stories in other media universes, including Star Trek, V, and Alien. Crispin was active in Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America and served as the chair of Writer Beware, SFWA’s “scam watchdog” volunteer group. She died in 2013. Klappentext Here is the explosive conclusion of the blockbuster trilogy that chronicles the never-before-told story of the young Han Solo. Set before the Star Wars(r) movie adventures, these books chronicle the coming-of-age of the galaxy's most famous con man, smuggler, and thief. The Millennium Falcon is "the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy." So when Han Solo wins it in a game of sabacc, he and Chewbacca become kings of the smugglers--uncatchable, unstoppable. But with the Empire clamping down, Han knows his luck can't last. Still, when an old girlfriend who is now the leader of an insurgent Rebel group offers him a shot at an incredible fortune, Han can't resist. The plan seems a sure thing. The resistance will be light and the take enormous. Han and his friends will divide it equally with the Rebels. Too bad for Han that the planet of Ylesia is far from a pushover, that the Rebels have an agenda of their own, and that smuggler friends can often turn into enemies...quicker than lightspeed. Leseprobe Han Solo leaned forward in the pilot's seat of the Wayward Girl. "Entering atmosphere, Captain," he said. He watched the system's big, pale sun slip into the great curve of ruddy light at the world's edge and disappear behind the planet's limb. Bespin's huge, dark nightside loomed up to blot out the stars. Han checked his sensors. "They say Bespin's got some big flyin'--or should I say, floatin'--creatures in its atmosphere, so keep those forward shields at maximum strength." One-handed, his co-pilot made an adjustment. "What's our ETA to Cloud City, Han?" she asked, a hint of strain in her voice. "Not long now," Han replied reassuringly, as the Girl sliced into the upper atmosphere, swooping over the planet's dark pole, lightning far below making a flickering fog of dim light. "ETA twenty-six minutes. We ought to be in Cloud City in time to catch a late dinner." "The sooner the better," she commented, grimacing as she flexed her right arm in its pressure-sling. "This thing itches like fury." "Just hang on, Jadonna," Han said. "We'll get you straight to the med-facility." She nodded. "Hey, Han, no complaints from me. You've done great. I'll just be glad to get this arm into bacta." Han shook his head. "Ripped cartilage and ligaments . . . that's gotta hurt," he said. "But Cloud City's sure to have adequate meds." She nodded. "Oh, they do. It's quite a place, Han. You'll see." Jadonna Veloz was a short, stocky, dark-skinned woman with long, straight black hair. Han had met her two days ago, after she'd advertised from Alderaan on the spacer-nets for a pilot to fly her ship to Bespin. Veloz's arm had been injured when it was struck by a malfunctioning anti-grav loader, but, determined to meet her tight shipping deadline, she'd postponed real treatment until she delivered her cargo. After paying Han's passage from Corellia on a fast shuttle to Alderaan, he'd taken over as pilot, and brought them to Bespin right on schedule. The Wayward Girl was through the wispy exosphere now, and plunging deeper, moving toward the evening twilight, blue sky building above them. Han altered course, heading southwest, toward where the setting sun must be. As they streaked along, the tops of the piled, puffy masses of clouds far below began taking on colors, deep crimson and coral, then yellow-orange. Han Solo had his own reasons for ...
