“Yeah. That might make just enough difference,” Han said with a grin.
They soared so close to the rotating ball of ice that Jaina could have extended the landing ramp and scraped a long gouge across the ice field.
“This is just like when we ran through the rubble field of Alderaan,” Jacen said.
Ahead, four large fragments drifted close together where one comet had broken into loosely attached boulders. Han narrowed his eyes, and Jaina scanned the motion of the chunks.
Anakin watched them intently. “I see the patterns” he said. “We can go straight through—if you time it right.”
“At full speed?” Han said.
“You’re going to have to,” Anakin answered.
Han roared ahead, straight toward the apparent blockade, but Jaina could see the comets moving, opening up. She saw the gap spreading and wondered if it would be wide enough to allow their ship to pass through.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Jacen said. Jaina thought her brother was making a joke with their father’s oft-used phrase, but as they approached the broken comet, she felt uneasiness herself.
“Yes, something’s wrong,” Anakin said.
Jaina watched the fragments moving, plotted their course again. It would be tight, but it seemed clear they would make it. The ship entered the slowly opening gap between rocky mountains of snow. Their deflector shield sizzled, vaporizing some of the snow and ice away from the broken comet.
“If you’re worried about something, kids, tell me now.”
“It’s not the comet, Dad,” Jaina said. “It’s…” Then she looked up at the enhanced infrared filter and saw an array of small artificial objects, a matrix of tiny spheres, hovering just outside of the broken cometary hulk.
“Hey, what are those?” Jacen said.
“Space mines,” Anakin answered in a maddeningly calm voice.
“Punch it, Dad!” Jaina cried. Han Solo reacted instantly, hammering at the emergency thrusters. The Falcon was already sailing at twice the expected speed for the pace craft, and now it went into an overdrive launch.
Jaina grabbed the navigation controls herself and yanked the ship to one side, putting the Falcon into a tight corkscrew that plowed through the array of space mines like a drill bit. They zoomed by so fast Jaina barely caught a glimpse of the deadly explosive devices as the cluster detonated.
The Falcon roared away as fast as the shock wave accelerated toward them. Fourteen of the space mines blew up behind them. Jaina could count them through the rear sensor screens. When it struck, the shock wave knocked them about, but they were already tumbling. The Falcon narrowly missed another large comet as Jaina regained control in the copilot’s seat.
“Space mines!” Han cried. “How did they get out here? This is the Derby course! It’s supposed to be completely mapped and checked out before anyone ever flies it.”
The Falcon slowed, recovering, and Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin all looked at each other. Han gasped, “If we hadn’t been traveling so fast, and you kids hadn’t warned me in time, we would’ve been right in the middle of that cluster when it exploded. But you dodged it, Jaina. Good piloting. And our speed helped us outrun most of the shock wave.”
“But the course should have been clear and safe,” Jacen insisted.
“That’s why they have a pace craft, isn’t it, Dad?” Anakin said suddenly. “To prove that the course is safe for the contestants?”
“Sure… but it’s always been just a formality. Until now.”
Jaina shivered and gripped her crash restraints tightly. “You mean maybe somebody put the explosives there on purpose—knowing the Falcon would be the first ship to fly through.”
5
After the “accident,” Han Solo circled back to collect debris from the space mines and deactivate two unexploded duds. The pieces would serve as evidence of the explosions and help them to find out who had set the trap.
“I guess this ruined your chance at a record-breaking time,” Jacen said as the ship headed back toward Ord Mantell. Jaina and Anakin scrutinized the exploded bits of metal and the unmarked casings, careful not to contaminate the pieces so that they could be analyzed more thoroughly later.
“Hey, we’re alive,” Han said. “That’s more important than any speed record.”
When the Falcon landed back on the rooftop receiving area, Czethros and several other concerned representatives rushed forward to help the Solo family disembark. The crowds of spectators who had witnessed the explosion were in an uproar, and the people sent up a cheer as Han Solo and his children gave a confident wave to show that they were all right.
A nervous-looking race official approached Han, bowing and stammering.
“Oh, I’m most sorry, sir! This is terrible! We have, of course, postponed the Blockade Runners Derby at least until tomorrow. We’ve already sent a crew of freelance inspectors up to comb through the obstacle course in search of any other hidden traps.”
“This was a near-tragedy. We must not risk anything worse happening,” said a second official.
Czethros stood tall, sunlight making his green hair look like a moss-covered boulder. “I doubt the inspectors will find anything,” he said grimly. “My guess is those mines were originally being taken to Anobis, a planet in the next system that has been engaged in a civil war for decades now. They frequently order weapons from black-market dealers on Ord Mantell.” The Derby officials flushed in deeper embarrassment.
“Hey, how could space mines from some civil war land right in the middle of the racecourse?” Jacen asked.
“The war’s still going on, and has been for almost thirty years. Many of Ord Mantell’s smugglers work as gun runners to supply the war effort.” Czethros shrugged. “Those mines could have been part of a dropped shipment, or even a trap set for former space authorities before Ord Mantell became more enlightened and allowed freer trade.”
“Uh-huh,” Han said.
The following day, after the brief and frantic postponement, racing officials attempted to relaunch the Blockade Runners Derby with renewed fanfare. Looking forward to the day’s festivities with subdued eagerness, Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, and their father ascended a tall observation tower above the docking buildings.
Bald, pink-skinned Bith band members followed them, playing stirring and dramatic music to mark the beginning of the Derby. The crowd cheered. The ever-present HoloNet news reporters made repeated references to the Solo family’s miraculous escape from deadly explosives the previous day.
Inside the observation tower, Jacen sat next to his sister and younger brother, while most of the reporters focused their attention on General Solo. The huge windowscreens were transparent to allow the gathered VIPs an unobstructed view across the landing centers and docking bays of the Ord Mantell strip. Once the Blockade Runners Derby began, most of the screens would turn opaque and show images transmitted from the holocam buoys. This would let everyone follow the haphazard progress of the contestants in their assorted souped-up ships as they roared through the tangle of the outer cometary cloud.
Several lavishly dressed racing officials hovered near Han Solo, preoccupying themselves with insignificant details. Han looked somewhat out of his element, uncomfortable in his formal clothes.
“Since I already flew the course once, what exactly do you want me to do here as Grand Marshal?”
“Well, whenever you’re ready,” one of the bureaucrats said, fluttering perspiration-damp hands in the air and indicating a single red button on a panel, “we need you to push this button.”
“That’s it?” Han said.
“It’s a very important task,” the bureaucrat answered, blinking in surprise. “It’s how we start the race.”