He leaned closer to her, not wanting the others to hear. “Commander ˇ . . I … I don’t want to die.” His admission seemed to drain him, and he trembled.
“Help me with this bandage, would you, Sk’kot?” she said, motioning for him to tighten the medpac tighter on her leg. The kid’s hands steadied a bit as he pulled on the straps binding it to her wound.
“Tighter!” she told him, and he leaned back, putting his weight into it. A jolt of pain got through to Bria, past the pain killers that let her move about despite her injury.
“There, that’s got it.”
Young Burrid sagged down next to her. Bria put her arm around him, as she would a brother she loved, and leaned close to him.
“I don’t want to die either, Sk’kot. But I sure as blazes don’t want the Empire to win. I don’t want good people massacred, or taken as slaves, or taxed until they can’t feed their families or live a decent life. Or just murdered by some Imperial Moff who woke up cranky that morning.”
Sk’kot smiled slightly at her turn of phrase. “So it’s okay that we’re not going to get out of here, right, Sk’kot? It’s okay that we’re going to go down doing our jobs, because they—” she jerked her chin at their dead comrades, “did theirs. We can’t let them down, right?”
“Right, Commander,” Sk’kot said. Bria hugged him tight, with a small, sad smile, and he returned it. He’d stopped shaking.
Just then, Joaa’n, keeping lookout, called, “They’re moving out there.”
Bria rolled aside, pushing Sk’kot toward his position. She looked quickly between two pieces of rubble, and without taking her eyes off the opening, issued orders. “Joaa’n, you stay down at first and get your launcher ready. After the rest of us open up, try to duck out and nail that Floating Fortress. Got that?”
“Yes, Commander!”
“People, remember to change positions after shooting, or they’ll zero in on you with the repeating blasters. Everyone ready?”
Murmured affirmatives answered her. Picking up her borrowed blaster carbine, Bria checked the charge. Sighting down the barrel, she thought, Goodbye, Han ….
Something moved in the breached wall. Bria took a deep breath. “Open fire!”
Tatooine is such a dump, Han thought, as he and Chewie made their way along the night-dark back streets. Jalus Nebl was so right….
The two smugglers had arrived just hours ago. Han had decided that the only way to approach Jabba for more time to pay off the dumped load of spice was to talk to him in person. But things weren’t looking too promising. So far he’d been unable to reach Jabba on the comm to request an audience. And back in Docking Bay 94 where the Falcon was berthed, he’d encountered that dumb Rodian, Greedo, nosing around.
The fool had tried to shake Han down for a payoff, implying that Jabba had taken a bounty out on the Corellian.
As if echoing Han’s thoughts, Chewbacca observed quietly that word was out on the streets that the Rodian kid, Greedo, was hanging around in the company of a has-been bounty hunter, one Warhog Goa.
Han snorted. “Chewie, you know as well as I do that Jabba’s just sendin’ us a little message, hirin’ that dumb thug, Greedo. If Jabba really wanted me dead, he’d hire somebody competent to do the job.
Greedo’s so stupid he couldn’t find his behind with both hands and a laser-torch.”
“Hrrrrrmnnnnn …” Chewbacca also had a low opinion of the Rodian.
Han had a few spare credits, and he’d decided to check out the local games of chance. Maybe he could win enough credits to make a substantial downpayment that would satisfy Jabba for the moment, then he could concentrate on scraping up the rest of the credits ….
They walked into The Krayt Dragon Lounge, and stood looking around.
Over in the corner, sure enough, there was a sabacc game in progress.
As Han and Chewie approached, the Corellian looked more closely at one of the players, a slender man with red hair and regular features.
“Hey!” Han exclaimed. “Small universe! How are you, Dash?”
Dash Rendar looked up, gave the Corellian a wary smile. “Hey, Solo!
Hey, Chewbacca! Long time no see. What’s this I hear about some caper on Ylesia?”
Han groaned aloud. Dash Rendar gestured to empty seats, and Han and Chewie took them. “Deal me in, gentles,” Han said, digging out a handful of credits. “Chewie, you wanna play?”
The Wookiee shook his head, and wandered off to the bar in search of liquid refreshment. Han glanced at Rendar. “Hey, Dash, where’d you hear about the Ylesian raid?” After the way people had treated him on Nar Shaddaa, it felt good to run into someone he knew who was still speaking to him.