The Wookie keened a reply, grinning to show sharp, white teeth.
"That was before I knew where they were holding the meeting!" Han defended.
Chewie shrugged slightly, ruffing a considered reply. Han grasped at it with both hands, turning back to Leia, "See! Even Chewie thinks it's a bad idea!"
"He didn't say bad, he said 'not ideal'." Leia countered, three years' company with the Wookie beginning to rub off, "And sometimes we just have to do things anyway, whether they're ideal or not."
"But Bothawuii?" Han said, still incredulous, "At least persuade her to choose somewhere that's even halfway safe."
"It has to be Bothawuii Han- you know that. Mon can't afford to seem afraid to ally herself with them, especially now, when they're paying for our choices. We need to send a message of unity, not hesitation - that we'll support them under any circumstances. We'll be as careful as we can."
We, not she. Just when, Han reflected, had Leia become involved in this, 'cos all of a sudden she was in the task force heading out there. "But Bothawuii!? Why not just go to Coruscant and have done with it - hell, why not just camp out on the steps to the Palace."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know what Bothawuii's main export is?" Han challenged, "Information; Intelligence. You're about to put the leader of the Alliance on a planet that sells secrets for a living. To both sides, I hasten to add. All you need is for one Bothan in Olin'yaa's camp to be a double agent and..."
"We're well aware of that." Leia said grimly.
"Well then don't do it! Am I the only one here who realises what a phenomenally bad idea this is?" He couldn't believe it- he just couldn't believe they were actually going to do this. The trouble with this place, Han knew, was that everyone went round all googly-eyed; they'd spent so long spouting all that stuff about trust and honour that they'd actually begun to believe it! It was all very well trying to live up to your principles, but that didn't mean you should assume that anybody else out there would feel under the slightest obligation to do the same.
"We have to do this, Han- we have to show that we're not afraid and that we'll stand by the Bothans no matter what."
"Can't we do that from Ammuud?" Han asked, the furthest planet he could name from the top of his head.
Leia smiled now, amused by Han's tenacious exasperation, leaning forward to kiss him on the chin - as high as she could reach when he was adamantly refusing to be mollified. "Relax, flyboy- you get to watch our back. We're taking Red, Blue and Gold wings on two Cutters."
"Great- two Cutters and three combat wings. That'll stop a Super Star Destroyer." Han said dryly.
"We'll be far more likely to just be able to slip in and out with the Arcturus and the Sol, rigged as Merchant Vessels." Leia assured of the small, fast cutters, each carrying only a hundred or so crew. "The Bothans have provided us with ID's and permits for comparable vessels which do the Bothawuii to Farlax run regularly."
"The Bothans know already!?" Han was incredulous, "Just... please - for me - at least move the venue."
Leia turned and started up the corridor again, Han trailing after her, Chewie patting him companionably on the back hard enough to make him stagger forward a step.
"The venue will be moved with a couple of hours to go- the Bothans don't know that yet. Only Mon, Madine, Massa and I know where. Happy now?"
"No" Han griped, "Just...marginally less unhappy. Where are you moving it to?"
"I'll tell you on the day." Leia teased.
"What- don't you trust me?" Han affected his most offended air, drawing level to the diminutive Princess to give her the full benefit.
Leia smiled primly, not in the least moved. "Well you are a smuggler, Solo."
"Yeah, but look how cute I am!"
.
.
.
Luke flew the small one-man Interat-TIE at breakneck speed through the upper atmosphere, piling on more power, pushing up the G's so that even he was beginning to feel the pressure. The tiny, nimble craft, little more than a cramped cockpit between two huge air intakes and a complex series of stabiliser fins to compensate for the fierce propulsion system which threw it forward at formidable speeds, had become his fighter of choice.
Tighter in the turn than an X-Wing and faster on the straight than an A-Wing it demanded a great deal of its pilot, but these days Luke flew only when he needed a distraction, so its temperamental nature appealed. It was the fastest thing in the Imperial fleet, and the newest; only four wings existed, two on the Peerless and two on the Executor, leading Luke to wonder briefly whether his father had flown one yet. Probably; like Luke, he flew a TIE Interceptor in space, but they were near-useless in gravity dogfights, where the swift A-Wing and the agile X-Wing still ruled supreme. Designed specifically to fill this gap they would, Luke knew, appeal as much to his father as they did to him. It had after all, been his father who had kept pace with him when he'd hurtled down the cramped Death Star trench at suicidal speeds, Vader jockeying for the perfect kill as Luke had been juking his X-Wing to avoid presenting just that.
The Interat-Tie chose that moment to do a little juking of its own as it hit an air pocket which almost wrenched the stick from Luke's hand.
Chiding himself for not paying attention, Luke eased the erratic craft back under control as Coruscant's surface loomed, shipping lanes becoming visible now. The comm panel flickered briefly to indicate that the ship was communicating with Flight Control, then a series of circles lit the heads-up display, forming a virtual corridor in space high above the civilian flight paths. Luke fell into the near-empty military shipping lane, twisting the stick on impulse so that the I-TIE corkscrewed neatly upside-down, long clear canopy facing the planet's surface, leaving him dangling in his acceleration harness, looking at the world 'above' him, the diplomatic shuttle in which he was supposed to be travelling to the Palace disappearing from his line of view.
No-one had even flinched anymore in the docking bay of the Peerless as Luke had simply strode past the Lambda shuttle and up to the Fighter escort nearby. Reece was never happy when the Commander-in-Chief of the Core Fleet decided to take a jaunt in a one-man fighter - and an unpredictable one at that - but he'd learnt that this was just a method of letting off steam and didn't even utter a word. Nor did the fighter pilot, who simply stepped aside as Luke had neared, politely holding out his flight helmet. Mara Jade was less cooperative- in fact she was already heading to the next fighter when Luke took a long step back and into her path.
His voice was quiet when he spoke, but firm and resolute, "Don't follow me. I don't need a wingman and I don't want company."
She arched her eyebrows at him, tilting her head, "I think I'd already figured that out on both counts." she replied dryly, "But I've still got a job to do."
Luke remained in her path, but she only set her hand on one hip, a sure sign that she wasn't about to back down on this one, Luke knew.
"Look," she took a half-step forward, keeping her own voice low enough that only he would hear, "We can bicker and argue about it and keep everyone standing around uncomfortably and trying not to stare for the next hour if you want, at the end of which, short of you knocking me unconscious, I'll still get into that fighter and follow you down, otherwise the Emperor will want to know why. So why don't we just cut out the pudu and set off now?"
Luke stared at her for long seconds, aware that she had pulled her trump card; the trouble in letting people get close to you was that you got close to them too, an unwanted complication when he knew that if he stopped her from following him, then he would be putting her in all kinds of trouble. But the trick of dealing with a problem was to turn it to one's advantage.