[Han Solo] - 03(131)
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 ˇ . . 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 that they were already too late. Red
Hand had managed to hold the Imperial reaction force at the outer perimeter while the Rebel comm techs transmitted the plans to the courier vessel. It had been close; the Imps had chopped the comm/sensor tower in half just seconds after the transmission had ended—but Bria had seen the acknowledgment from Tantive IV with her own eyes. “Transmission complete.”
Bria had also seen, before the sensors were cut off, the image of an Imperial Star Destroyer closing in on the Rebel Blockade Runner. Had that courier gotten away? She’d never know ….
Bria wondered exactly what they’d been transmitting, but knew she’d never know that, either. As it was, she and her people knew too much ˇ . . that’s why they couldn’t risk being taken alive.
Not that the Imperials seem inclined to take prisoners anyway today, she thought.
As she bent down to check the bandage around her thigh, the trooper next to her voiced the same quiet question she’d refused to answer earlier.
“We’re not going to get out of here … are we?”
Bria looked at him, pale under his battered helmet, his eyes wide and staring. Sk’kot was a good trooper, loyal to her, loyal to their cause. But he was so young ….
Still, he deserved a straight answer.
“No, we’re not, Sk’kot,” Bria replied. “You know that. The Imps have destroyed our ships. No retrieval. And even if we didn’t have orders to hold this comm center for as long as possible, there’s nowhere for us to go on this world. Even if we could get past the troopers …
we’ve got no transport.” She gave him a wry grin, and gestured at her wounded leg.
“I’d look really silly trying to hop out of here, wouldn’t I?”
He nodded, and his face twisted with anguish.
She looked at him closely. “Sk’kot … we can’t be captured. You understand that, right?”
He nodded again, then took out his lullaby and stuck it to his collar, the way Bria had. “Yeah, Commander. I understand.” His voice was shaking, but his hands on his weapon were steady.