THE HUTT GAMBI(59)

Only one or two commanders knew the whole picture. Individual members were informed strictly on a “need to know” basis. The less they knew, the less they could be forced to reveal under torture.

Bria’s current assignment was in intelligence. She didn’t particularly like spying, but she was good at it. She preferred her old job, though, that of making contact with rebel groups on other worlds. It was obvious to her that if the rebels were to really oppose the Empire, they’d have to unite.

But, so far, they’d barely begun reaching out to other groups.

Communication was monitored, travel was restricted—it was so difficult to maintain links between groups on different planets. As fast as their rebel group devised codes, the Imperials broke them.

Just last month one cell of rebels had been raided during a meeting on the eastern continent. They’d disappeared as completely as though a krayt dragon had opened its mouth and swallowed them whole. Bria thought that she’d much prefer to be gobbled alive by a monster than caught by the Emperor’s security forces …

Her friend Lanah had been one of those taken. Bria knew she’d never see her again.

Bria was worried that her entire homeworld would wind up as a police state. Corellia had always been an independent world, a proud world that governed itself. So far, the Emperor had not appointed an Imperial governor to usurp all power on Corellia. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t someday. The Empire did not allow pride or independence in the worlds it claimed.

One of the reasons for Palpatine’s not overtly taking over the Corellian government was that Corellia had such a large human population. The Empire made no secret of the fact that it regarded nonhuman species as inferior, incapable of governing themselves.

Two alien species shared the Corellian system worlds with their human inhabitants, the Selonians and the Drall. If Corellia had been inhabited solely by those nonhuman sentients, they’d have been a much more inviting target for repression—possibly even being declared a slavelabor planet.

Look at what had happened to Kashyyyk. The proud Wookiees captured and led away in binders and shackles …

Bria’s fingers tightened on the edge of her desk. She hated the Empire, but even more than the Empire, she hated slavery. Having been a slave on Ylesia (though at the time she’d called herself a “pilgrim”), Bria was determined to do everything she could to destroy the Empire that allowed slavery, that used and owned beings.

When that task was done, she would devote whatever remained of her life to freeing every slave in the galaxy.

Her lovely mouth turned down at the corners as she thought about the raid six months ago that she’d led on Ylesia. She and her rebel friends had managed to rescue ninety-seven slaves, mostly Corellians, and bring them back to their homeworlds and their families.

Within the next month, fifty-three of those freed slaves had run away and boarded ships to return to Ylesia.

In a way, Bria couldn’t blame them. Living without the Exultation was difficult. It had taken her years to overcome her craving for the feelgood rush of euphoria the t’landa Til priests could project.

But forty-four of the freed slaves are still free, Bria reminded herself fiercely. And just yesterday Rion told me that one of the women had sent him a message, thanking him for returning her to her husband and children …

Rion was Bria’s main link to rebel command now that she’d taken this new position at Imperial headquarters. It was Rion to whom she reported every scrap of information she could glean. He took the information that Bria could gather or construe, then relayed it to the leaders of the Corellian underground rebel group.

Bria hoped that soon she’d have more than bureaucratic lists of supply requisition orders to relay to her group. Ever since she’d taken this job last month, she’d been careful to wear the most flattering hairstyles and makeup, hoping that her looks would bring her to the attention of a highranking Imperial officer.

Her efforts were paying off, too. Just yesterday admiral Trefaren had stopped by her desk to ask her if she would accompany him to a reception that was being held by the Corellian government for the highranking Imperial officers. Several Sector Moffs were supposed to attend. It would be quite a gala evening, he’d assured her.

Bria had lowered her eyelids coyly, blushed attractively, and breathed a halting, girlish “yes.” The Admiral had beamed at her, the deep lines that ran vertically down his sallow cheeks appearing even more like canyons in the desert, and told her he’d pick her up in his chauffeured speeder. Then he’d reached out and touched one of her curls, letting it wind around his finger. “And, my dear,” he’d added, “wear something that will set off your beauty. I want the other officers to be jealous of the golden treasure I’ve discovered.”