Part 12 (1/2)

”Copy that, Red Hand Leader. Targeting sensor suites and solar fin. Starting our runs now.”

The Y-wing pairs began strafing the Helotg Shackle, firing their turreted ion cannons at the prea.s.signed tar-gets. The bursts from the ion cannons were designed not to damage the enemy vessel's hull, but to knock out all electrical activity aboard s.h.i.+p-including, of course, the engines, the targeting computers, and the bridge systems, Every electrical system aboard would need to be re-initialized before the Shackle would be opera-tional again.

Helotg Shackle fired again and again, but the Y-wings were just too quick and agile for the big s.h.i.+p's weapons to target effectively.

Scant minutes later, the Shackle was drifting helpless in s.p.a.ce, its electrical systems down. Bria cheeked her chrono as the first wave of boarding shuttles moved in. Good. Right on time. One s.h.i.+p attached itself to the large forward airlock, the one the Shackle used to load her eargoes of slaves. The remaining two shuttles grap-pled against the hull on either side of the slaver's s.h.i.+p and began cutting their way in.

Bria listened as reports flooded in from her squad leaders: ”Red Hand Leader, Squad One reporting from the eargo airlock on the forward hold on Deck 4. We've made it inside, but we're encountering heavy resis-tance. The crew was getting the slax/es out as we came through, but there are still some in here. The Pilgrims have taken shelter, as have we, behind cargo canisters. We've got a brisk firefight ongoing. We're going to push them back, so we can get to the turbolaser access shaft.” ”Red Hand Leader, Squad Two reporting in. We've breached the hull forward of the engines on Deck 4 and set up a portable airlock. My troops are moving in now ....

”Red Hand Leader, the armor plating on this section of the starboard hull is giving us some trouble... stand by....” And, a minute later, ”Red Hand Leader, we are through!”

Bria watched the progress of the squads through the vessel, weighing when to bring in her second wave. The two squads who'd cut their way in had met with mini-mal resistance. But the forward squad who'd entered through the airlock was meeting heavy opposition from the slavers as they battled their way to the turbolifts. It was understandable that the slavers would fight to the last. Red Hand's reputation was beginning to spread, and doubtless the crew of the Shackle had recognized the symbol of a blood-dripping hand painted on the bows of their attackers' s.h.i.+ps.

Bria stood up and addressed the captain of her s.h.i.+p. ”Tedris, you're in command of the squadron until I re-turn from the second wave operation. Be prepared to send backup if I contact you, but not until. Have the Y-wings moved out to their patrol stations?”

”Yes, Commander. We'll have at least fifteen minutes warning if anyone decides to join the party .... Of course that's just in case the slavers managed to get a distress out before we jammed their transmissions.”

”Good work, Captain.”

Bjalin nodded, but did not salute. Discipline in the Rebel forces was far more informal than in the Imperial Navy. It had taken Bria two weeks to break him of the habit of saluting at the drop of a ”Sir?' ”Good luck, Commander,” he said.

”Thanks. I may need it. My people have pushed them out of that forward hold, but they had lots of time to set up strong defenses. I'm betting they've holed up in the bridge and the access corridors and are working on the electronics. I think I'm going to have to be a lit-tle... creative.”

Bjalin smiled. ”You're good at that, Commander.” Ten minutes later, Bria's boarding shuttle had docked with the portable airlock and her reserves were jogging down the corridor of Deck 3 'after her, blaster rifles ready.

In the eerie, wan illumination provided by the emer-gency battery lights, the crippled Shackle seemed de-serted; Bria knew that was an illusion. Dimly, she could hear the wailing of some of the slaves. Probably they'd been herded to the security hold on Deck 4 and locked in. The commander hoped fervently that none of the slavers had hit upon the bright idea of driving the slaves into Rebel blaster fire in an attempt to delay the invad-ing soldiers while they made their getaway. That had happened once, and Bria still had nightmares about it... the pale, shocked faces of the unarmed slaves, the reverberations of the blaster bolts, the screams, the crumpling figures, the meaty sizzle-reek of burning flesh ....

Bria led her troops forward, toward the master's cabin in the bow of the s.h.i.+p. It was located directly be-neath the bridge, and was the key to her plan.

She keyed her comlink. ”Prize crew . . . how's it going?”

”Commander, hull damage appears to be minimal. Our Y-wings targeted well. We have people working on repairs now.”

”How about the electrical systems and the computers?” ”That's going to be harder. We can't start up the sys-tems until you've captured the bridge. We don't want to give them any control over the s.h.i.+p.”

”They're probably trying to do a restart themselves up there. Can you block that?” ”I think so, Commander.” ”Good. Concentrate checking out the systems, then, and the engines. Wait for my signal to re-initialize.” ”We copy, Commander.”

Bria and her squads met only one pocket of resis-tance on their way to the master cabin. About ten slavers and one unfortunate slave whom they'd armed and pressed into service were holed up behind a hastily erected barricade in a companionway.

Bria sign'tied her troops to retreat back around the corridor, then addressed them in a whisper. ”All right, people. We're going to lay down a suppressing fire while Larens, here---” she nodded at a short, slight, very agile soldier, ”crawls under our fire until he~ in range to toss a stun grenade right into the middle of that nest of vermin. Got me?”

”Right, Commander.” Larens dropped down, pre-pared to scuttle forward, the stun grenade held in his teeth.

”On the count of three, then ....One... two... three!”

Bria and the other Rebels dodged into the com-panionway firing bursts at the barricade, careful to aim high enough not to scorch Larens' rapidly scut-tling rear.

Blaster bolts screamed in the confined s.p.a.ce. Bria caught a glimpse of an arm with a dagger tattoo, aimed and watched the arm (and its slaver owner, presumably) fall back behind the barricade. She remembered the first time she'd ever shot a blaster, and had a brief, sharp memory of Han that she suppressed. No time for memories... time only for the job at hand ....

Bare seconds later there was a loud whump! and suddenly the returning fire was gone: Bria motioned her people to follow her. ”Remember, the Pilgrim will be wearing a tan robe!”

She ran forward, saw the nest of slavers lying sprawled about. Three were 'already dead, one of them from having his arm blown off. The Pilgrim was stunned, moving feebly.

Bria stood looking down at the carnage at her feet, and felt hatred surge up in her. Six slavers still alive... her finger twitched on the trigger of the blaster rifle she held.

”Commander, shall I set up a guard detail?': Larens looked at her inquiringly. He was new to Red Hand Squadron. Several of the veterans gave him impatient glances.

”They're vermin, Larens,” Bria said. ”We'll just in-sure that they don't represent a future danger. Mecht, you and Seaan catch up when you've finished here. Drag that Pilgrim into a room so when he wakes up he won't be in the middle of anything.”

Mecht nodded. He was a middle-aged man who'd been enslaved himself, though he'd been an hnperial slave, not an Ylesian one. He nodded. ”We won't be long, Commander.”

Larens started to say something, then obviously changed his mind. Bria motioned to her troops, and they moved on.

Five minutes later, the squad was in the slaver cap-tain's quarters. Bria tried not to look at some of the ”toys” the fellow had lying around, evidently for use in amusing himself with some of his slaves. She walked over to the center of the cabin and pointed up at the overhead. ”People, the bridge is right up there.” She glanced at one of her squad leaders. ”Squad One, I want a diversionary attack 'along the corridors leading to the bridge up on Deck 2.”

The squad leader nodded. ”Be ready on my signal,” Bria said.

”Right, Commander.” He took off, his troops follow-ing him.

Bria addressed her remaining troops. ”Squads Four and Five, you'll attack the bridge with me.”

A couple of the newer recruits glanced at each other, obviously puzzled. How were they going to attack the bridge from here?

”Where~ Joaa'n?” Bria asked.

A stocky trooper stepped forward, her features 'al-most hidden beneath her helmet. ”Here, Commander.”

Bria pointed up. ”Joaa'n, use your demolition bag of tricks to get us up there.”

”Right, Commander.” The woman climbed up on a bureau that had been shoved into place, and began us-ing her lasertorch. The new recruits nudged each other and chuckled, as they realized what their Commander was planning.

Three minutes later, the demolitions expert looked down at Bria and gave her a thumbs-up. ”Commander, I've rigged a demo charge that will blow us a nice circu-lar hole through the deck.”

Bria smiled. ”Good.” She spoke into her comlink.

”Squad Two... begin your attack on the bridge.” The Rebels heard the sounds of blaster fire start up again.

”Renna,” Bria nodded at another stocky, muscular woman, ”you've got a good arm. You stand by with the stun grenades. As soon as it~ safe, toss them up through the hole to stun most of those vermin.” She looked at the rest of her troops. ”People, as soon as Renna's lobbed those grenades through that hole, and the blasts have gone off, we're going up. Remember, people, this is the bridge up there. Be careful where you shoot. Too much damage and the prize crew won't speak to any of us for a month. Got it?”

There were chuckles from her squad.

”All right, it~ set,” Joaa'n said. ”Get back and cover your eyes, friends. Thirty seconds.”

Hastily, Bria~ troops retreated to the cabin~ perime-ters. A couple of soldiers pulled down their blast gog-gles, the others just looked away. Bria, Joaa'n and Renna stood back behind a heavy ornamental screen.

Moments later there was a fizzling sound, then a m.u.f.fled thud. Something heavy hit the bureau, slith-ered off onto the deck. The reek of smoke touched Bria~ nostrils. She nodded at Joaa'n. ”Good job.”

The demo specialist and Renna were 'already mov-ing, scrambling back up on the bureau. Renna lobbed three stun grenades up through the hole in three differ-ent directions. The ssss-whump! of the grenades and the resulting eries and thuds told the commander that they were doing their work.

Renna pulled herself up with a boost from Joaa'n, then disappeared. They heard her blaster.