[Han Solo] - 03(100)
Bria leaned forward, and, unconsciously, Han did too. Her voice dropped to a whisper, a bare thread of sound. “They say it was …
Vader.”
Han was whispering too. “Vader? You mean Darth Vader?”
She nodded. “Darth Vader. He’s the Emperor’s…” She hesitated, searching fora term. “… enforcer.”
Han sat back. He’d heard of the guy, but he’d never encountered him.
“Huh,” he said. “Well, I’m just glad they didn’t try and finger yours truly.”
Bria nodded. “Rebel intelligence later discovered that Admiral Greelanx was under Imperial orders to make the attack fail. The Hutt bribe was incidental. My guess is that it was all a set-up from the beginning, part of an Imperial plan to discredit and eliminate Shild.
And to hurt Desilijic and the smugglers. You’ll notice that Besadii, who supplies the Empire with slaves, wasn’t affected.”
Han thought it over. “It still sounds crazy, but you do hear things about the Emperor. Spooky things. I always just dismissed them as people being hysterical.” He laughed shortly and took a swig of his ale. “Pretty scary … if it’s true.”
She shrugged. “Neither of us will probably ever know. But this is ancient history, now. Not what I came to talk to you about. Han, I—” Bria’s lowvoiced conversation broke off as a couple of smugglers slid into the booth opposite theirs. Han looked around. “Place is filling up,” he said. “Want to get outta here?”
She nodded. Han followed her out onto the street, and they walked briskly, without talking, until they were on a quieter side street.
The glidewalk was broken, and there were few sentients around. Han looked at her. “You were saying?”
She looked over at him. “Han, I need your help.”
He recalled what Jabba had told him. “With the assault on Ylesia?”
She nodded and smiled. “Quick as ever. Yes. Jabba’s bankrolling us.
We’re going to take the whole planet, Han.”
Now it was Han’s turn to shrug. “Not my problem, sister. I’ve changed, too. I ain’t in the charity business. I only play for profit, these days.
I don’t stick my neck out for anyone.”
She nodded. “So I hear. I’m not asking for charity. It’s profit I’m talking about. More credits than you’d make on a hundred smuggling runs.”
“What do you want from me, then?” Han realized that his anger at her was building, though he wasn’t quite sure why. It was almost as though he’d have been happier if she had asked him to help her for old times’ sake, or something. But that didn’t make any sense.
“The Rebel Alliance is still very new, Han,” she said. “Our people have guts and loyalty, but most of them aren’t seasoned fighters. My own Red Hand Squadron has experience, but we can’t handle this job all by ourselves.”
Han stared at her in surprise and more than a little unease. “Red Hand Squadron? You command Red Hand Squadron?”
She nodded. “It’s a good group. We’ve seen some action.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Han said. “I’ve heard you give no quarter to slavers.”
She shrugged and didn’t answer. “Anyway, as I was saying, the Resistance needs help to get us down through the Ylesian atmosphere.
Experienced pilots to guide our ships in. Maybe some help with the fighting, but, let’s face it, you’ve seen the Ylesian defenses. A bunch of Gamorreans and other losers who sleep on duty. It’s not the ground assault I’m worried about, it’s their blasted atmosphere. The Corellian Resistance has already lost one ship there.”
Han nodded. He was mad clear through, but he was hiding it well. He wanted to hear the whole thing before he let her have it. “That atmosphere is tricky, all right. But the average smuggler pilot has dealt with worse. So … you need pilots to guide your ships in, maybe provide some armed backup. In return for what?”
“Spice, Han. You know that Besadii has been stockpiling it. Choice andris, ryll, carsunum, and, of course, glitterstim. They’ve been trying to drive the prices way up, and there are warehouses stuffed full of it. We’ll split the take with the smugglers.”
Han nodded at her. “Go on …. ” She looked at him. “And for you and me … there will be Teroenza’s treasure room. Picture how much he’s added over ten years. Hundreds of thousands of credits worth of antiquities. He’s bound to have maybe a million credits worth of stuff.., maybe two. Think about it.” “How many troops do you have?”