[Han Solo] - 03(105)

“Tedris and I graduated in the same class in the Academy.”

“It’s a long story,” Bjalin said. “After what you said to me that time aboard the Destiny, I couldn’t help thinking more and more about how the service was getting as corrupt as the Empire. And then …” his bony features twisted. “Han, I’m from Tyshapahl, remember?”

Han had forgotten. He stared at his old friend, realization slowly dawning. “Oh … Tedris … I’m sorry. Your family?” The Corellian had met Tedris’s family, during graduation.

“Killed during the massacre,” Tedris confirmed. “After that, I couldn’t stay. I knew I had to fight them, any way I could.”

Han nodded.

Bria took Han on a tour of her ship. He was seeing yet another side of her, and, as an ex-military man himself, was impressed by the discipline and alertness of her troops. The sentients of Red Hand Squadron obviously revered their commander. Han discovered that many of them were ex-slaves, people willing to give their lives to the mission of freeing those in bondage.

Bria took Han to meet with other Rebel Commanders, and they attended several planning sessions for the raid. The Bothans were providing security, and the Sullustans had sent ten ships and nearly two hundred troops. In the years since Han and Bria had left Ylesia, Sullust had lost many citizens who had gone to Ylesia to become Pilgrims.

In addition to many ships from the Corellian Resistance, there were troops from Alderaan (though much of the Alderaanian support was in the form of medical personnel, transport pilots, and other non-combatants) and Chandrila. “It was hard to convince the Alliance that this could be done,” Bria confided to Han. “But it’s become brutally apparent that our troops need combat experience. I was able to convince HQ that this raid would help the troops gain the confidence to start going up against the Imperials.”

All of the Rebel ships from the Outer Rim had been detailed to the raid.

Han surveyed the gathering fleet, and conceded that maybe they did have a chance. He wound up giving a number of briefings to the Rebel pilots who’d be flying the Rebel assault landing shuttles into the Ylesian atmosphere.

During his first such briefing, Han ran into yet another old friend.

“Jalus!” he exclaimed, as the small, droopy-jowled Sullustan trooped into the Retribution’s briefing area. “What the heck are you doin’ here?”

Jalus Nebl pointed to his ragtag Rebel uniform. “What does it look like?” he squeaked. “The Ylesian Dream is now Dream of Freedom, and she’s served the Rebellion well for several years now.”

Han introduced Bria to the Sullustan, and she was pleased to at last meet the brave pilot who had saved them from Helot’s Shackle. The three reminisced about the past, and their daring escape from the slave planet.

Both Jalus Nebl and Han were impressed to hear that Bria’s group had taken Helot’s Shackle, now renamed Retribution.

The reconditioned Retribution would be flying with the Resistance on this raid, carrying assault shuttles and backup troops under the command of another Rebel Commander.

As Bria watched Han interact with the Rebel Commanders and other mission personnel, she realized that she had never been happier. Han seemed to enjoy the chance to return to the old military lifestyle, eating meals in the galley, joking and talking with her troops. They were respectful of his knowledge and his military background as an Imperial officer—especially after Tedris Bjalin recounted some of “Slick’s” wilder escapades during their Academy days.

She found herself hoping that Han would realize that the Resistance was where he belonged—with the Resistance, and with her. Every moment they were together was like coming home, she thought—though she was careful to keep her “just business” distance.

All the while, she wondered what Han was thinking about her ….

At the end of their second day with the gathering Rebel fleet in their deep-space rendezvous, Bria received a message that she was needed to meet with some potential allies from the Resistance on Ord Mantell.

Han offered to take her there in the Falcon, proud of the chance to show off his ship’s speed—though the first time he tried to jump into hyperspace, the cranky Falcon refused to cooperate. When two elbow-whacks failed to work, Han had to spend several sweaty and embarrassed minutes with a hydrospanner to get his ship to cooperate.

Once they were in hyperspace, Bria sat in the copilot’s seat, watching Han handle his ship, admiring his sureness. “She’s a wonderful ship, Han,” she said. “I watched you win her, you know.”

Han turned to her, surprised. “What? You were there?”