Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 03_ Rebel Dawn - A. C. Crispin [139]
“Yeah, as the raid where Bria Tharen stuck it to people who trusted her. Including the guy she said she loved.”
Tears welled in her eyes, broke and ran. She stepped out of the way as her soldiers maneuvered yet another load of treasure out the door. “Han … please, please … come with me. You’re a born leader. You don’t need to live like a criminal. In the Rebel Alliance you could be an officer, and they do pay us! Not much, but a little, enough to live on! Please, Han!”
He stared at her coldly. She was crying so hard now that Jace Paol stepped over and took the blaster out of her hand. “We’re loading the last bunch of boxes now, Commander.”
She nodded, then tried to pull herself back together, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
“Please, Han. If you’re too mad now, I understand. Just … send me a message. Jabba knows how to reach me. Please, Han.”
“I’ll send you a message,” Han said. “Remember everything I said to you that night at the Blue Light? Well, it was all true, and I was a fool for ever trustin’ you.” He dug in an inside pocket, and took out a small pouch. Inside was a piece of flimsy. “Recognize this, huh?”
She looked at it, came closer, and then backed away, nodding, her face very pale and set. “Yes …”
“Well, I’m such a fool that I carried it around with me all these years,” Han snarled. “But as of today, I am no woman’s fool, sister. No woman is ever gettin’ to me again. Ever.”
With slow, deliberate movements, he ripped the flimsy into tiny pieces, then let them slip through his fingers and scatter to the floor. “You’d better get in your ship and get outta here while the getting is good, Bria. If I ever see you again in this life, I’ll shoot you on sight.”
She stared at him in shock, until Jace Paol took her arm and said, “Commander … we’ve finished loading.”
“I understand,” she said, in a small, shaking voice. “Han … I am sorry. I will always love you. Always. There has never been anyone but you, and there never will be. I’m sorry.…”
Paol encircled her shoulders with his arm, and said to Han. “I left you one box and your dolly, Solo. I’d advise you not to waste time here. The charges are set to go off in thirty minutes.”
Slowly, Paol backed out the door, keeping his blaster trained on Han and Chewie. The Rebels beside the shuttle kept the Corellian and the Wookiee covered.
Han stood there in silence as the Rebel shuttle took off.
When it was gone, he drew a deep, ragged breath, and it hurt. Another, and it hurt, too. His eyes stung, but he bit his lip until the pain allowed him to gain control. “Chewie,” he said, “this has been a great day, you know that?”
Chewie made a sympathetic, mournful sound.
“Well, we have to get moving,” Han said. “Tell you what, keep an eye on the time, and trot through the compound. Maybe they dropped some vials of glitterstim or something. I’ll scour Teroenza’s living quarters. I think he had some valuables in there. Meet me back here in seventeen minutes, pal.”
“Hrrrrnnnnnggggggghhhh!”
The Wookiee took off.
Han scoured the treasure room and Teroenza’s apartment, finding a few odds and ends, and a sobbing Ganar Tos. Han looked at the old humanoid coldly. “You are lucky you never married her,” he said. “Get outta here, Tos. This building is gonna blow in fifteen minutes.”
The ancient Zisian scuttled out the door like a bug. Han snorted in disgust and ransacked the apartment.
When he carried a sack of minor collectibles out to the Falcon, Han looked around for Chewie. Hurry up, furball, he thought.
He went inside the ship to warm her up, and then heard Chewie’s roar, demanding that Han come out and see what he’d found!
Han’s heart leaped. A box of glitterstim vials!
He raced out of the ship, only to stop short in confusion. Chewbacca stood