Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 03_ Rebel Dawn - A. C. Crispin [147]
Where are you, Han? she wondered, as she often did. What are you doing right now?
She wondered if Han would ever know what had become of her. Would he care if he did? Did he hate her now? She hoped not, but she would never know.…
Bria thought about that day on Ylesia, and wished things could have been different. Yet … if she’d had it to do over again, would she have done things any differently?
She smiled sadly. Probably not.…
The credits she’d raised had come in handy, and had led directly to this assignment. Torbul and the other Rebel leaders had sent intelligence units to infiltrate Ralltiir, and they’d discovered that the Empire was shipping vital plans for its new secret weapon to its records center on Toprawa.
Torbul had been straight with her when he’d discussed the mission, using terms like, “recovery iffy,” and “expendable.”
Bria had known what she was getting into, but she’d volunteered Red Hand Squadron anyway. She knew they needed the best for this job, and she was confident her people could deliver.
And they had.…
This was the biggest anti-Imperial offensive of the Resistance so far, a coordinated offensive assigned to transmit the plans for the latest Imperial secret weapon. Bria didn’t know all the details, but her assignment had been to seize this Imperial comm center on Toprawa and hold it, while the comm techs transmitted the stolen plans to a Rebel courier ship … a Corellian corvette that would “accidentally” pass through this highly restricted star system.
When Torbul told Bria that the Rebel Alliance needed volunteers to accompany the intelligence team to Toprawa, to hold off the Imps while the comm techs did their job, Bria hadn’t hesitated before volunteering. “Red Hand will go, sir,” she said. “We can handle it.”
She looked out across the plaza, seeing the carnage of war reflected dimly in the streetlights. Bodies, overturned ground-cars, wrecked speeders … the place was a mess.
Bria thought about Ylesia, reflecting that place had been an even bigger mess … and she was proud that she had some responsibility for that. Glancing up at the sky, she thought about Retribution. They’d lost contact with her, and Bria feared the worst.
Time to get back to work, she thought, and crawled back into the wrecked comm center.
Hearing the deep thrum of heavy repulsorlift units behind her, Bria sheltered behind the wall and peered out. Looking up, she saw the faint glint of light from the armor of a massive rectangular object floating above the permacrete of the ruined plaza. The Imperial heavy armor, one of the “Floating Fortress” class units, settled down into a covered position behind the remains of the communications and sensor tower, obviously getting ready for yet another assault on Red Hand Squadron … or what was left of it.
Bria scrambled backward, crawling quickly, to pass the word to her remaining troops.
“Listen up, people,” she said, to the survivors—so few!—who were sheltering behind the barricade. She began passing out the power paks, dividing them up equally. “They’re coming again. We’ve got to look sharp, hold them off as long as possible.”
They didn’t talk, just nodded, and prepared to go to work. Bria was proud of them. Professionals. Dedicated professionals.
It won’t be long now, she thought, finding a good spot for herself behind the barricade. “People …” she said aloud, “has everyone got their lullaby?”
Murmured assents. Bria checked her own. She’d stuck the tiny pill to the collar of her fatigues, so that all she had to do was turn her head and stick her tongue out to get it. You never knew if your arms would be working, after all.
Come on, she thought to the Imperials. It’s rude to keep us waiting.
What the Imps didn’t know was