"Ann Crispin "Han Solo. Rebel Dawn"" - читать интересную книгу автора

Minutes later, the prize crew reported that they were ready for the restart. Bria watched tensely, heard a whine, then, suddenly, full illumination replaced the emergency lighting on the bridge. The tactical screens glowed, the navicomputer chirred softly to itself.
Bria left her troops to deal with the vermin and walked out to the turbolift. She keyed her comlink. "Hyx... you there?"
"I'm here aboard Retribution, Commander," the medical officer reported. "The wounded have been transported over, and everything is looking good. Ex-cept for Caronil... he didn't make it. Sorry. The medic and I did everything we could .... "
Bria swallowed. "I know that. Are you still needed there, Hyx?"
"Not really. The reed droids have things under con-trol here. I'm taking the shuttle back to the Shackle."
"Good. I'm going to need you soon. Come straight to the Security Hold. That's where the slaves are locked up. I'll meet you there."
Bria took the turbolift down two decks, then Started aft. She was nearly to the locked portal when the scuff of a foot behind her made her whirl around, sidearm in hand. Behind her, brandishing a blaster, was one of the slavers who'd somehow escaped capture.
Tile woman's eyes were glittery, her pupils dilated, her hair a greasy halo around her face. "Stop right there or I'll shoot!" she bellowed, holding the blaster in two trembling hands.
Bria stopped. Trembling with fear? Maybe... but that 's not all ....
"Drop your weapon? the woman howled. "Or I'll kill you!"
"I don't think so," Bria said, calmly, letting her blaster hang down in her hand, muzzle pointed at the deck. "If I'm dead, I'm no use to you as a hostage."
The woman frowned, obviously trying to puzzle out her captive's words. Finally, she elected to ignore them. "I want a shuttle!" she cried. "A shuttle, and some slaves to take with me! You can have the rest! I just want my fair cut, that's all!"
"Not a chance," Bria said, steel underlying her quiet tone. "I'm not a slaver. I'm here to free these people."
The woman appeared completely baffled by this. She cocked her head. "You don't wanna sell ‘em?" she asked, skeptically.
"No." Bria said. "I'm here to free them."
"Free ‘em?" Bria might as well have been speaking Huttese for ‘all the slaver understood her. "They're worth couple thousand credits apiece, some of'em." "I don't care," Bria said.
The slaver's brow furrowed. "Why not?"
"Because slavery is wrong," Bria said. "You're wast-ing my time, vermin. Kill me or let me go-but you'll get nothing from me."
The woman pondered Bria's words, obviously taken aback by the commander's response. It was plain to Bria that the slaver was under the influence of some powerful stimulant. Carsunum, probably. The woman was shaking .all over. The muzzle of the gun was practi-cally vibrating in mid-air. Bria's eyes narrowed as she watched the muzzle of the weapon waver, waver . . . then drop fractionally as the drugged woman struggled to comprehend a being who cared nothing for personal profit.
Bria's hand moved in a blur as she brought her weapon up, at the same time throwing herself to the side. The slaver fired, but she was shaking so violently that the bolt didn't even singe Bria. The Rebel com-mander's shot struck the slaver just below her chest. The woman went down with a scream and a gurgle.
Bria walked over to her, kicked away the blaster from the outflung arm and limp fingers, and looked down at the slaver. There was a gaping, charred hole in her abdomen. The woman stared back up at her, pailting shallowly. Bria aimed her sidearm at the slaver's fore-head. "Want me to?"
The woman shook her head, side to side, then strug-gled to speak. "N-no..." She wheezed in agony. "I-I want... to... live .... "
Bria shrugged. "Fine by me. You've got maybe five minutes, I figure."
With her sidearm in her hand, Bria stepped over the slaver and continued down to the hold.
She had to use her blaster on the lock. Inside, she heard screams of panic. The portal swung open.
The stench hit the Corellian the moment she stepped through the door. Human and ‘alien, the effiu-via rolled out, almost visible, it was so thick.
Bria looked over the crowd of wailing, moaning, wretched Pilgrims who were cowering away from her, even as they held out their skinny, talon-like hands, pleading, "Bring a priest! Need the priests! Take us home!"
The commander felt her gorge rise, and it took her a moment to control herself. That would have been me... almost ten years ago, now, that's how I would have been... if it hadn't been for Hah ....
A step came from behind her, and Bria whirled, sidearm ready, only to relax when she recognized Daino Hyx. He raised an eyebrow at her. "A little jumpy, Commander?"
Bria smiled sheepishly. "Maybe just a tad."
"That got anything to do with the dead woman out there in the corridor?"
"Not really," Bria holstered her blaster, realizing dis-gustedly that now she was the one doing the shaking. "More to do with them." She jerked her head at the agonized Pilgrims. "They're all yours, Hyx. Looks like you've got your work cut out for you."
He nodded, studying them with a healer's kindly de-tachment. "How soon will the Shackle be ready to ren-dezvous with the transport?"
Bria glanced at her chrono. "I ‘allowed thirty-five
minutes to take this ship and get her working again. It's
been thirty-nine. I expect to hear-"
Her comlink signaled, and Bria smiled and answered it. "Red Hand Leader here."
"Commander, this is Jaee Paol. We have secured the ship, and the prize crew reports we are now hyperspace capable. Proceed to our rendezvous coordinates?"
"Copy that, Jace. I'll advise Retribution. Tell Lieu-tenant Hethar to take her out. Deliverance is waiting for us to transship these Pilgrims." "I copy, Commander."
Bria keyed her comlink. "Captain Bjalin, Helot's Shackle is ours, along with her eargo. Prepare to ren-dezvous with Deliverance at our assigned coordinates."
"I copy, Red Hand Leader. We'll meet you there.
And... Commander?"
"Yes, Tedris?"
"Congratulations on a smoothly run operation."
"Thank you, Tedris."
One month later, Bria Tharen, on a rare visit back to Corelha to meet with her commanding officer, walked quickly into his office. Pianat Torbul, a short, dark-haired man with intense eyes, looked up. "Welcome home," he said. "You're late. I was expecting you two days agO."
"Sorry, sir," she said. "I picked up a last minute call to help the Pride of the Rim out with a couple of Imp picket ships. Retribution took a hit that damaged sub-light engines, and we had to lay up for a day." "I know," he said, and smiled-his quick, irresistible grin. "I received the report from the Pt/de. Don't be so defensive, Tharen."
She smiled back, then, at his gesture, dropped wearily into a seat. "So, did you get my report, sir?" "I did," he said. "Seems your friend Hyx is reporting great progress in turning those Pilgrims you rescued off the Helot's Shackle back into normal citizens. Congratu-lations. Your faith in him and his new treatment seems to be paying off."
Bria nodded, her eyes lighting up. "It means a lot to me, to be able to give those people back their lives. Their families will be glad to see them ....They'll be able to live in dignity, and comfort .... "
"Unless, of course, they choose to join up with us," Torbul said. "Which apparently some of them are al-ready talking about doing once they're returned to health. Which may take a couple of months. I gather that malnutrition plays a pretty big part in the brain-washing they undergo on Ylesia."