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Chewie howled as he, Han and Bria threw themselves flat, covering, until the fire ceased. The Rebel commander took a sensor reading and looked at Han, her face a yellowish blur with white lips against the varied greens of the infrared. He could see her frown beneath the masking goggles. “Han … I’m detecting at least twenty energy signatures out there, waiting for us. Whoever these guys are, they’re not a bunch of Gamorreans.”

Han stared at her. “That and the turbolaser …”

“Yeah.” She thumbed her comlink to transmit. “Rainbow One, this is Red One. We took turbolaser fire as we landed and changed to our alternate landing site. We’re on the ground with moderate casualties. Four ships lost—three shuttles, one friend.”

“Friend” Han knew, was the agreed-upon code for a smuggler or privateer ship. “Encountering heavy resistance, but continuing our assault.”

The voice of Assault Command came back. “Rainbow One copies, Red One. Do you need White One?”

Blevon was asking whether Bria needed reserves from the Liberator.

She keyed her link. “Negative, Rainbow One. The reserves can’t land while that turbolaser is still up. We’re working on it. Red One out.”

“Rainbow One,” Blevon acknowledged her, and then was quiet.

Bria switched frequencies to her inter-squad channel. “Jace, this is Bria. Have you sneaked a look over those dunes yet?”

“I did,” Paol’s voice was grim. “Who are those guys?”

“I don’t know,” Bria said. “But they’re obviously professionals. You circle around through the jungle and come down the mudflats from the north. I’ll go through the jungle and come up from the south. We’ll catch them in a crossfire.”

“Copy,” Paol said. “You would make me crawl through the mud.”

Bria laughed grimly, and broke the connection.

It took Han and Bria’s team nearly ten minutes to make their way far enough down the beach so they could be sure to be shielded by the jungle. They went up and over the dunes, then down again, into the jungle. Han followed Chewie’s lead as they slogged through rotting vegetation. His nose wrinkled at the smell, and Chewbacca whined protestingly. Wookiees had a much more acute sense of smell than humans. Sweating and slipping through the muck underfoot, Han wished he’d worn boots with more traction.

Finally, they reached the edge of the cleared area. Bria’s sensors confirmed that their targets were just ahead. They crouched in the jungle and her comlink chirped softly. She turned the volume up. “… receiving multiple reports of heavy resistance. Green One reports confirmation that some professionals for a merc outfit calling itself Nova Force, have been captured. Rainbow One out.”

“Nova Force? Mercenaries?” Han looked at Bria. “Oh, great! How’d they get here?”

She shrugged.

Han scowled. “And I told the smugglers and privateers this was going to be a piece of cake!”

Han listened tensely as she checked in with Jace Paol. Everything was in place.…

Han’s pulse was racing. He swallowed, and his saliva tasted metallic. “You ready, pal?” he whispered to Chewie, who was checking the charge in his bowcaster.

“Hrrrrnnnnnn!”

Han checked the charge in his blaster rifle, even though he knew it was full.

Finally Bria nodded, and together, the squad wriggled out of the jungle, crawling along cropped vegetation, their hands and knees digging into the muck. It had rained recently, of course … this was Ylesia. Han’s fingers encountered permacrete. A landing field or road … it hadn’t been there ten years ago.

Bria counted down seconds with Paol, then—

“Fire!”

Han rose to his knees, sighted with his goggles, and saw a dim shape wearing an unfamiliar helmet, yellow marking body heat. He fired.

The waning night exploded into blaster fire, choked-off screams and battle cries. Still firing, Han and Chewbacca moved forward with Bria’s troops. The soldier to his left went down. He glanced at her, saw a black hole where her face had been, whiffed charred meat, and kept going.

Moments later, as the enemy fire stuttered out and died, Bria yelled for cease-fire. Han and Chewie approached,