[Han Solo] - 03(7)
As she rode the glidewalk to the nearest turbolift, Bria imagined removing her disguise, then going to Han’s room late that night. He would still have vivid memories of the last time he’d seen her, when she’d been posing as Moff Sam Shild’s mistress, but surely he’d believe her when she explained—that she’d been spying for the Corellian resistance, and that there had been nothing between her and Shild.
So after she’d told him the truth about their last encounter, they would talk. Perhaps they’d sip some wine. After a while, they’d hold hands. And then …
The Rebel operative closed her eyes as the turbolift swept her upward amid the crystalline and pastel splendor of the Yarith Bespin’s fifty-story atrium. Perhaps, when she’d explained everything, Han would want to join the resistance, help his fellow Corellians as they plotted to free their planet from that tyrant Emperor who held so many worlds in a deathgrip.
Perhaps …. Bria envisioned the two of them, doing battle shoulder to shoulder on land or in space, fighting bravely, covering each other’s backs during the battles, winning victories over the Imperial forces …
then holding each other close when the day’s fighting was over ….
Bria couldn’t imagine anything better than that.
Feeling the turbolift decelerate, she sighed and opened her eyes.
Fantasies were all very well … sometimes they were all that kept her going. But she couldn’t allow them to interfere with her mission.
As the turbolift doors slid open, she was ready. Moving with confident strides, she exited the lift and headed down the carpeted corridor.
When she reached the meeting room, she tapped out her coded signal, and was admitted. She glanced at Jace, and his nod confirmed that he’d checked the room for surveillance devices and found it safe. Only then did Bria turn to greet the other members of the conference.
The first representative to step forward was a typically mournful-faced, blue-skinned Duros, Jennsar SoBilles. He had come alone, as had Sian Tevv from Sullust. Bria greeted the two aliens warmly, thanking them and their respective groups for allowing them to make the dangerous journey—and it was dangerous. Just last month one of the highranking Rebel leaders from Tibrin had been captured while on his way to such a conference. The Ishi Tib was forced to suicide in order to avoid the Imp mind-probes.
Alderaan had sent three representatives, two human and one Caamasi.
The senior member of the delegation was a middle-aged man with grizzled hair and beard, one Hric Dalhney, Deputy Minister of Security, and a trusted member of Viceroy Bail Organa’s cabinet. Accompanying him was a young girl, not even out of her teens, with long, crystal white hair.
Dalhney introduced her as “Winter,” commenting that they were posing as father and daughter as their “cover” during this trip. The nonhuman member of the delegation was a Caamasi. Bria was intrigued by him, never having met one before. Their species was now somewhat rare in the galaxy.
Caamas had been essentially destroyed after the Clone Wars, thanks to the efforts of the Emperor’s minion, Darth Vader, but it was a littleknown fact that many of its people had managed to flee to Alderaan and lived there, mostly in seclusion.
The Caamasi’s name was Ylenic It’kla, and he introduced himself as an advisor to the Viceroy of Alderaan. Tall, even taller than Bria, the Caamasi wore a single kilt-like garment and jewelry. Generally humanoid in appearance, Ylenic was covered in golden down, with purple stripes marking his face. His eyes were large, dark and held a faint air of calm sadness that touched Bria, knowing what sufferings this being must have witnessed.
Ylenic said little as the delegates exchanged greetings, but something about him impressed Bria. She resolved to seek out his opinions if he did not offer them. The Caamasi had an air of quiet power, of confidence, that told the Rebel Commander that this was a being to be reckoned with.
After a few minutes of chitchat, Bria seated herself at the long table, and formally brought the meeting to order. “Fellow Rebels,” she said, speaking with the quiet authority of someone who had done this many times before, “I thank you for risking your lives in our cause. We of the Corellian Rebel movement are contacting other underground groups like our own, urging all the various Rebel groups to unite. Only as a strong, cohesive group can we have any hope of confronting the Empire that is strangling our worlds, and killing the spirit of our peoples.”
Bria took a deep breath. “I know what a daunting and dangerous proposal this is, believe me. But only if we can unite, form an alliance, can the Rebel groups have any hope of eventual victory. As long as we remain fragmented, planet-bound groups, we are doomed to failure.”