“I’m not sure yet. I have to report back to our command ship for this sector. We’ve asked for aid from any Resistance group that wants to help, particularly the Bothans and the Sullustans—there are a lot of Sullustans and Bothans on Ylesia. We figure they may want to be part of the rescue.”
“And you’re going to free the slaves.”
“We’ll take them along with our share of the spice. And before we leave, we’ll reduce those factories to slag, along with everything else. We’re going to shut that hellhole planet down for good.”
Han considered. “What about the priests? The Exultation could be a powerful weapon. I’ve seen it knock people on their butts who weren’t expecting it.”
She nodded. “Jabba’s taking care of them. They’ll be assassinated before we ever land.”
Han looked at her, and felt cold rage wash through him. How dare she? Come back and ask me to get involved with her little revenge scheme?
“You’d better get your timing down pat.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “This will be the biggest military operation the new Alliance has ever tried. We hope to get recruits from it, as well as the spice. Financing a revolution is an expensive proposition.”
“Ambitious,” Han said, dryly. “Why not just attack Coruscant if you want to commit suicide?”
“It’s doable,” she insisted. “Ylesia isn’t that heavily guarded. Han, you were there. Remember? Oh, I’m sure we’ll encounter some resistance, but my people can deal with that. Your friends can stay out of the shooting until we secure the place. The combat experience will be good for our troops. If we can pull this off, it will be an example to inspire other planets to join the Alliance. Our only hope of defeating the Empire is if we unite.”
Han looked at her. “And this is why you came to me. To get me to contact the smugglers for you, encourage ‘em to join up with the Resistance for this little mission.”
“Lando told me that you and Mako Spince are people they’ll listen to.
I knew you. I don’t know Spince.”
Han finally let his impassive mask drop, and glared at her. “So what you’re sayin’ is that you dump me ten years ago, ignore me that whole time, and then you come back thinkin’ I’ll help you put my friends’ lives in danger. I don’t trust you, Bria. I’ve heard about Red Hand Squadron, all right. You ain’t the woman I used to know, and that’s plain.”
“I have changed,” she said, her eyes holding his. “I admit it. So have you.”
“Lando told me you still cared about me,” Han said, coldly. “I think you were lyin’ to him, plannin’ even then to use me. You don’t give a hoot about me—about anything we used to have. You only care about your revolution, and you don’t care who you walk over to reach your goal.” He snorted. “And all that bilge about Sarn Shild … sure.
Right. You expect me to believe a man like that would keep you around if you weren’t—weren’t—a—” Han finished with a word in Rodian used for the lowest class of streetwalker.
Bria’s mouth dropped open and her hand found the grip of her blaster.
Han tensed, ready to go for his own, but her eyes suddenly flooded with tears … and he knew then she wouldn’t draw. “How dare you?”
“I dare a lot these days, sister,” Han said. “And I say what I think.
I dare to think you’re a real lowlife comin’ back here this way. You can forget sucking me in again with your pretty face. I’ve changed, all right.
I’ve gotten smart—smart enough to see right through you.”
“Fine,” she said, blinking back the tears. “You just turn your back on both me and a fortune. I don’t call that smart, Han. I call it stupid. And the idea that a drug runner is putting on moral airs is really laughable, you know?”
“I’m a smuggler,” Han shouted. “We have our own code!”
“Yeah, running drugs for Hutts!” she was yelling too. “You and Jabba!
Birds of a feather!”
The idea that she would class him with the Hutts was the last straw.
Han spun around and started to walk away.
“Fine!” she cried. “I’ll go see Mako Spince, that’s what I’ll do. He can’t be as dumb as you!”
Her unwitting pun made Han laugh nastily. “Fine,” he snarled, not turning around. “Have fun gettin’ him to talk. Goodbye, Bria.”
He strode away from her, his bootheels clicking against the permacrete, his head high. It felt good to leave her standing there, looking after him.