HAN: Good shooting, Chewie! That was close! There hasn't been a clone yet who can out fly us! (silence) Chewie? ...You still with me?
The WOOKIEE growls a weak curse over HAN’S headset. HAN smiles.
HAN: Okay, pal, let’s go get us some more...
Suddenly, the ship rocks violently and HAN struggles to maintain control, bouncing through the flack with a frown.
HAN: (to himself) That felt like one of the big guns. Not good...
He checks his instruments.
HAN: (cont., into headset) ...Damn! There go our rear deflectors, Chewie! Two of the fuel pressure stabilizers are down!
HAN frantically flips some switches. CHEWBACCA roars over the headset.
HAN: I shut off the fuel drivers, but if we stay out here any longer we’re dead! (into comlink) Admiral Ackbar, do you copy?
ACKBAR: (over comlink) I read you, General Solo.
HAN: We’re hit pretty bad, I gotta bring us in.
ACKBAR: Affirmative. We’ll cover your approach.