[Han Solo] - 03(115)

Han glared at the gambler. Lando suddenly realized he was being a bit dense, and shut up.

Smugglers were pouring out of their vessels now, and several of the captains were plainly not happy. Han braced himself as Kaj Nedmak and Arly Bron stormed up to him, along with several other smugglers and privateers he didn’t know. “Solo, what do you think you’re doing, leading us straight into a turbolaser?” Bron demanded. “I nearly lost my engines!”

Han shrugged and spread his hands. “Hey, it’s not my fault! I didn’t know!

I almost got fried myself!”

Just then, Bria approached, with Jace Paol, her second-in-command.

“It’s not Han’s fault,” she said to the unhappy crowd. “I am going to have a word with the Bothans, though. They were supposed to have done the recon necessary for this mission. Unless that turbolaser was just installed, they should have pinpointed it before now.”

More grumbling from the assembled captains. Bria held up her hand for quiet. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” she said, her voice and eyes hard and full of authority. “Just stay here on the beach until we have the compound secured. Or … anyone who enjoys a fight is welcome to tag along.”

Most of the smuggler and privateer captains shook their heads and walked away, but one or two decided to go in with the Rebels—probably to make sure they got to earmark the best spice in the warehouse for themselves. Han looked at Bria. “Chewie and me are goin’ with you,” he said.

Jace Paol spoke up, “Commander, request permission to take my squad in and knock out that turbolaser. We’re going to need to land more shuttles later on, and we can’t, with that thing blasting ships out of the sky.”

Bria nodded. “Permission granted, Lieutenant. Take a demo team with you. Take out the laser, and if it can’t be salvaged, destroy it.”

“Right, Commander.”

“Jarik Solo here. I’d like to go,” Jarik spoke up to Paol. “That laser nearly singed my rear. I’d like a chance to be in on taking it down.” Paol nodded at the young man. “Glad to have you.”

Han caught Lando’s eye and jerked his head at Jarik. Lando sighed, then stepped forward. “Count me in, too, Lieutenant. I’m Lando Calrissian.”

“Glad to have you, Calrissian.”

Han waved at his friends as they started off down the beach with Paol’s squadron. He watched as Bria gave final orders to the troops who would remain behind as rear guard for the ships on the beach.

Then he and Chewie started up the beach with Bria and her troops. Her comlink chirped, and she turned it up so she could hear. Han listened to the voice of the Assault Commander, Blevon, up on the Liberator.

“Rainbow One to all stations, we have multiple reports of heavy resistance. Be on the alert.”

Bria glanced at Han, then at her chrono. “All forces have landed.

We’re running behind.” She muted the comlink so it was just a distant mutter of commanders reporting in, then broke into a jog. Han and the squads ran after her.

The infrared goggles took some getting used to. Han nearly tripped over beach drift, and once he got tangled in a bunch of thorny sandgrass and got thoroughly scratched. Chewie obligingly lifted him up bodily, freeing him. His skin stinging, Han warned the others behind him.

Been a long time, he reflected, scrambling behind Bria up the dune, clutching the heavy A280 rifle. Sand sifted and fell around him, and the footing was treacherous. The last time he’d done something like this was not a pleasant memory ….

Bria was the first to reach the top. She flattened herself, waving caution with a hand-signal to her followers. Han wasn’t expecting any fire—after all, they were not even in sight of the compound—but caution in battle was always a good thing. He dropped to his belly and wriggled up beside her, with Chewie right behind him. Sand sifted down his open collar, making him itch. He couldn’t spare the time to scratch, though. Together, Han, the Wookiee and Bria eased up the last half-meter and peered over the top of the dune–and nearly got the tops of their heads blown off. Repeating blaster fire hammered them, turning some of the sand to glass instantly, spraying them with minuscule hot particles that stung like insects.

Chewie howled as he, Han and Bria threw themselves flat, covering, until the fire ceased. The Rebel commander took a sensor reading and looked at Han, her face a yellowish blur with white lips against the varied greens of the infrared. He could see her frown beneath the masking goggles. “Han.

. . I’m detecting at least twenty energy signatures out there, waiting for us. Whoever these guys are, they’re not a bunch of Gamorreans.”