"Slow down, Princess!" Han called after Leia as they charged down the corridor. "We've got plenty of time." Without stopping her forward progress, Leia turned around just enough to catch his eyes and shook her head.

They had gotten carried away with themselves and had discovered, much to their mutual distress, that they were still in bed with only fifteen minutes until they were scheduled to arrive at the banquet hall. The trip by speeder would take at least twelve. Han had helped Leia back in to her dress and pulled on his trousers while she made quick work of tidying her hairdo. She had buttoned him into his shirt and his jacket, and he hadn't even had time to argue when she insisted that he was to attend this soiree unarmed.

Now they raced, a little faster than dignity would normally have allowed, through the corridors of the barracks and toward Leia's waiting sedan out front. "We do not have plenty of time," she snapped as they reached the door to the landing pad.

"Hey," Han defended, "whose idea was it to come by beforehand in the first place?"

"Like I heard you arguing," Leia quarreled as she skidded across the pad to where Threepio had the car waiting.

"We'll make it," he assured her, pulling open her door for her before darting around to the other side. "Good to see you goldenrod," Han addressed the protocol droid in the driver's seat, "now get out of my way." Han reached into the seat and grabbed Threepio by his legs, tossing him haphazardly into the back seat.

"What are you doing?" Leia asked harshly over the sounds of Threepio's indignant protestations. She pulled her skirt in to the car beside her and shut the door.

"Going to a party," he answered her, waggling is eyebrows as he settled into the driver's seat and took the controls.

"Lovely," Leia grumbled, rolling her eyes. The speeder lurched suddenly forward and, accelerating at an alarming rate, pulled into the lane. Han quickly got past three others going in the same direction before turning sharply to the left and cutting across orthogonal traffic, barely missing a slow -moving transport that might have been on its way to the same place they were. "Han!" She called as another sedan cut across their path, missing them only by inches and only then because Han thought to pull up a few degrees, grazing the other vehicle across its roof with their undercarriage. "You know," she fumed, her eyes wide and her hands white-knuckled on the arm rests of her seat, "the party will be a lot more interesting if we get there in one piece."

"No worries, princess," Han assured her, looking now from the windscreen toward her with his signature smirk playing on his lips. She was angry, he could tell, but she would forgive him when they arrived in time. Leia chuckled. She had no defenses against that smirk and she knew it.

"Easier said than done," she reminded him, grinning back in his direction. She looked into her lap and frowned. "Great," she sighed, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Han asked. He had turned his attention back to where they were going and had missed whatever it was that was vexing the princess now.

"One of my gloves is still in your drawer," she told him, shaking her head. She had grabbed her gloves the very last thing as they had darted out the door and apparently she had only gotten hold of one of them.

"We can go back," Han allowed, "I can run in and get it for you, and get my holdout blaster while I'm at it," he suggested. The farther away from his apartment they got, the more uncomfortable he was becoming with not having a weapon on his person.

"Can you just put this one in your pocket?" Leia asked him, handing over her single glove.

"You're sure?" he asked, hands on the controls, ready to turn around at her word. Leia was frowning at him. "If it's the scanners you're worried about," he added, "I've got more than one vibroknife that'd be small enough to fool them."

"There aren't going to be any scanners, Han," Leia told him. Han almost hit the brakes so they could have this discussion eye to eye, but thought better of it and kept driving.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, hoping that that statement had been her idea of a very bad joke.

"No," she answered him in all seriousness.

"You mean to tell me that there was a ballroom built in one of Palpatine's palaces with no scanners in it?" he asked her. It was a little hard to believe.

"Oh, they're in there," Leia answered. "But they're not working. When Isard pulled out, she and her people took everything that wasn't red hot or nailed down. The scanners aren't working, and we haven't had the time nor the tools to fix them. And anyway," she added, reaching over to place her hand on his knee; she could tell he was genuinely concerned. "We invited these people here in the spirit of cooperation. We're going to be one republic- we have to start trusting each other."

"Yeah, well…" Han shook his head at the thought of this room full of people left on their honor not to bear arms. "I don't trust anyone," he asserted.

"You trust me," Leia offered, squeezing his knee a little.

"I trusted you enough to let you talk me out of the house without a blaster," he agreed.

"It's a party, Han," Leia reminded him. "These people are our friends and our allies and there is no need for weapons." He grumbled under his breath, but continued in the direction of the palace. Han drove them quickly but safely the few kilometers to the palace and brought the car to a halt in exactly the place he was supposed to.

"See: plenty of time," Han assured Leia as he opened the door and got out, allowing Threepio back into the driver's seat. Leia shook her head. He had managed the trip in just under ten minutes. They weren't late. Han came to her side of the speeder and opened the door for her, reaching for her hand to help her up. Leia took his proffered hand gladly and smiled up at him. Her knees felt wobbly after the unorthodox drive, but she did have to admit that she was glad they had gotten there in one piece and on time; Just another example of Han Solo's prowess with anything with an engine.

Leia stepped from the speeder and onto the red carpet that would lead them into the banquet. Han had begun to fidget as they started into the building; tugging in turn at his collar and the hem of his coat. "Jheez, Leia," he whispered to her, frowning. "What did you do, measure me in my sleep?" Leia chuckled. Han looked incredibly handsome in his dress grays, but apparently he found the uniform somewhat less than ideal.

"I got the sizes for the jacket and the trousers from things you left in my rooms," she answered him. Over the weeks and months that they had been stationed aboard Home One he had left more than one suit of clothes on the floor of her suite overnight, and eventually his things had found their way into a drawer in her dresser. Cleaning droids tended to return laundered clothing to whosever quarters it had been removed from. She did have access to his clothes; he hadn't thought about that. He was still tugging at his collar as he shook his head at her cleverness. "And as for that collar," she added, "I knew your neck was exactly this big around." She was making a gesture with her hands as though she were choking him and Han had to laugh at that.

"Tell me again why this is even necessary," he begged, following her around a corner. Han presumed that Leia, a member of the Provisional Council and therefore among the official hosts of the event, knew where they were going.

"The uniform?" she asked, frowning at him.

"The uniform," he replied, "the party, the whole thing."

"If you didn't want to come with me," Leia began, "you shouldn't have said you would." She stopped walking and looked up at him. Han could tell that he'd just fouled up profoundly.

"I told you I wouldn't be any good at this," he tried to defend himself. Leia's eyes were downcast, and Han was afraid his little jab at the dress uniform had hurt her. "Leia," he sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders, "I don't get the pomp and circumstance," he explained. "I love the sight of you in that dress. And I'd happily stuff myself into this hateful getup every day if it would make you happy, but I'm never going to understand what fancy dinners and whatnot have to do with re-establishing the Senate."

"It's just the way it's done," Leia explained, her eyes coming back up to meet his. "It gives all of the delegates a common pleasant experience to start the Summit off with. We'll have this very civilized dinner and dancing tonight and then the opening ceremonies tomorrow morning and then we'll get to work on…"

"Dancing?" Han interrupted, his wicked frown crossing his face. He was careful not to look too unhappy about the notion, but the news of dancing was a surprise. "There's going to be dancing?" he asked. Leia nodded, a hint of a smile coming to her lips.

"There's always dancing," she replied, patting him on the arm before turning to continue their path along the red carpet toward the room where the function was beginning.

"So I'm supposed to…" Han swallowed hard and shook his head, "dance?" he finished. Leia took his hand and kept walking.

"You don't have to dance, Han," she assured him. "There will be plenty of people who prefer not to."

"But you plan to dance?" he asked. Leia nodded. Of course she would be planning to dance.

"I do," she affirmed. Han frowned and squeezed her hand. She was looking at him with one of her patient smiles and he couldn't help but forget his distaste for social dances. If Leia wanted him to dance with her then dance he would. They rounded another corner and Han was able to immediately identify the entrance to the room where the party would be held. There was a crowd of people spilling out of the door and into the hallway, and HoloNet reporters milling around all of them.

"Am I going to have to stand in some sort of a receiving line?" Han asked. He wasn't fond of that idea; in fact, everything he learned about this party made it that much less appealing in his eyes, but he was determined to seem like he was having a good time. He knew, however, that things like dances and receiving lines were better met with some warning.

"No," Leia answered him, shaking her head subtly. "It's not so formal as that. The official opening of the Summit isn't until tomorrow," she explained, "tonight you'll just be expected to mingle."

"Mingle?" Han groaned. There was another word that made him uncomfortable. Leia was still wearing her patient smile as she nodded her head. "And next you're going to tell me that we're sitting at the head table," he half joked. If there was a head table, Leia would be expected to be sitting at it.

"I'm sitting at the head table," she answered him, "with the rest of the Provisional Council. You're sitting in the back."

"We're not sitting together?" Han was more than a little bit disappointed. He was only going to this blasted party to spend time with Leia. If they weren't even seated together….

"The Provisional Council is at the head table," she explained. "You'll be sitting with people you know. General Madine, General Rieekan, General Tantor, General Cracken, General Dodonna…."

"Oh, I get it," Han sniped at her, "a table full of guys all wearing the same uniform."

"The heroes of the Alliance," Leia corrected him. Han had to stifle a chuckle.

"So what you're saying is that we're not even going to be sitting together," he asked for clarification. This was getting less fun by the minute.

"Yes," Leia admitted plainly. "You're here in your own right," she tried to explain. "You're not my guest, Han. You're just as entitled to be here as anyone else."

"But I'm here to be with you," he reminded her, slinging his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"And you will be," she answered. "It's just for dinner." Leia shook her head and sighed. "I thought you'd be happy to sit in the back with people you know instead of up front and feeling like you're on display," she told him.

"You may have a point there, princess," he said back to her, "but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about sitting across the room from you."

"It's just for dinner," she reiterated, "once the dancing starts we can sit together."

"But you're going to want to dance," he asserted, "you already told me that."

"If someone asks me to dance I won't say no," she answered, looking sidelong at him as though that were a hint.

"And the rest of the time we're supposed to mingle," he asked, trying his best to ignore her previous comment.

"Yes," Leia grinned as she replied. "Starting right now." Leia was waving to someone in the distance. "Come on," she urged Han, moving his hand from around her waist and taking a respectable hold of his arm, "there are some people I want to introduce you to."

"Introduce me?" Han asked. He hadn't thought about that. There were going to be people here tonight who had known Leia during her tenure in the Imperial Senate— all sorts of important political types with whom he would be expected to make polite conversation. But even more frightening than that was the question in Han's mind as to what these introductions might be like. "And just how are you going to introduce me," he asked, "to your Senate friends?" Leia slowed her pace and looked at him strangely.

"What do you mean by that?" she quizzed. Han shrugged and squeezed her hand where it rested on his arm.

"This is my friend, General Solo," he offered as example, "my dear friend: my… colleague?" Leia sighed and shook her head.

"You're concerned about that?" she asked him. "With everything that's going on right now, you're worried about what title I give our relationship?"

"Yeah," Han admitted. "Have you even thought about it?" he asked.

"No," Leia answered plainly. "It never crossed my mind. I suppose I'll just say 'I'd like you to meet General Han Solo' and keep my hand on your arm and let them draw their own conclusions."

"You could just introduce me as your fiancé," Han suggested. He felt Leia's hand tense against his arm as her face became suddenly very serious.

"Was that a proposal?" she asked, sounding something between amused and angry. Han swallowed hard. He hadn't really meant for it to be. He'd figured for years now that he would propose to her eventually, but he'd really only made the suggestion as a dignified way for Leia to explain that they'd be leaving together.

"Should it be?" Han asked by way of reply.

"If it was," Leia sighed back at him, "then it was the weakest one I've ever heard."

"You've heard others?" Han quizzed. She hadn't ever mentioned being proposed to before.

"The weakest I've ever heard of," she corrected. Han frowned.

"Oh," he allowed. Damn. That hadn't gone over so well.

"If that's something you would really like to discuss," she said back to him in her most diplomatic tone, "then we can certainly discuss it. But now is not the time."

"All right, princess," Han allowed, preferring to drop it at her suggestion rather than force a conversation upon her that perhaps neither of them were truly ready to have. "Now, where are these people I'm supposed to meet?" Leia leaned her head against his arm for a second before answering.

"Right here," she told him as they approached a pair of gentlemen standing just outside the door to the ballroom. The men were smiling at Leia as they approached and Han was sure that he had some idea as to who these people were. Their manner of dress and carriage said enough about them that they might as well have had 'Alderaanian delegation' printed across their foreheads.

"Good evening your highness," the elder of the two, greeted Leia as she and Han reached them. He was a portly man with reddish brown hair and thick eyebrows, greeted Leia as she and Han reached them. a deference to Leia that Han could see in his every motion. So this was what it was like to be face-to-face with an honest-to-stars royal subject….

"Councilor Horm," Leia said back to him, inclining her head toward him.

"Highness," the younger man stuttered. He seemed nervous; wouldn't look Leia in the eye. He seemed nervous, far less practiced at greeting the sovereign than his counterpart; he couldn't seem to look Leia in the eye. His snow -white hair hung in his face as he fidgeted under himself.

"Councilor Omas," Leia greeted him as well, widening her eyes to try and catch his gaze. "I'd like the both of you to meet someone very dear to me," Leia said to them, squeezing Han's arm a little as she said it, hoping that was enough. "Threkin Horm, Cal Omas," she began, "this is General Han Solo." She then turned her attention to Han. "Councilor Horm and Councilor Omas are here from New Alderaan," she explained. Han nodded as he reached out to shake Horm's proffered hand.

"General," Horm addressed Han, shaking his hand firmly. "It's always a pleasure to meet a friend of the Princess."

"Likewise," Han said back to the man.

"How are things on New Alderaan?" Leia asked the two delegates.

"Well," a nervous sounding Cal Omas answered her. "Very well," he added.

"We're looking forward to the elections," Horm chimed in, saving his uncomfortable colleague from having to make further comment.

"Aren't we all," Leia said back, eliciting enthusiastic nods from both Horm and Omas.

"Leia," Han said to her quietly, "looks like…" he gestured with his head to the open doors to the main room, where the throngs of milling people were beginning to file in.

"Shall we?" Leia asked Han and the others. All three gentlemen nodded in agreement and followed Leia toward the door. "This is so very exciting, isn't it?" she asked, generically to the two Alderaanian gentlemen as they walked alongside of her.

"Oh it is, it is," Horm answered her with a broad smile.

"Can I count on a dance later?" Leia asked the elder man, smiling disarmingly at him. Han had to rein in his tendency toward jealousy just then; reminding himself that the portly Alderaanian gentleman was nothing for him to be concerned about.

"Oh, no highness," Horm answered her, chuckling softly at the notion. Han seriously doubted that his stout frame had been up for dancing anytime in recent memory. "But perhaps Councilor Omas," he offered. Cal Omas blushed at the suggestion.

"I'd be honored, your highness," Omas said quietly. Leia smiled and placed a hand on the man's arm.

"I shall look forward to it," Leia assured him. She nodded to the both of them again before adding, "If you'll excuse us."

"By all means," Horm answered. Leia smiled at them once again as she and Han headed more intently toward the door.

"What was that all about?" Han asked, once he was sure the other two were out of earshot. He was hoping that Leia would read his annoyance as sarcasm.; he really didn't want to start this night off with a spat.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she cast her gaze at him. Nope, she hadn't taken that lightly at all.

"You," he replied. No use lying to her. "Asking other men to dance?" Leia shook her head and sighed heavily.

"You sound jealous," she chuckled.

"Maybe I am," he retorted. "I bring a girl to a party and she wants to dance with somebody else."

"I'm expected to dance with the members of the Alderaanian delegation," Leia said to him, recalling countless lessons from her childhood in such protocol. "But tradition won't allow them to ask me. So, as I have done at every diplomatic function since I was seventeen, I asked the senior delegate for a dance."

"But you'll be dancing with the junior delegate," Han reminded her. Had the corpulent and elderly Councilor Horm accepted her invitation to dance, he figured he might feel a little less inclined to put his fist through something. He pretty well hated the idea of Leia sharing a dance with the handsome, young, and so obviously Alderaanian diplomat. Cal Omas seemed like just the kind of guy Leia might have wound up with had her planet not been destroyed by the Death Star: the kind of guy a princess might be expected to make time with. Han wasn't fond of such competition.

"You'll get over it," Leia jabbed, smirking up at him. She remembered his jealousy directed at Luke, back before he had learned that Luke and Leia were brother and sister. But that was more than two years ago, and their relationship had only grown stronger as the time had passed. It was a little bit surprising to Leia that Han was still so prone to such insecurity. She had thought they were past that stage. Sometimes she was just sure that she would never fully understand him. One minute he had thought to bring up the subject of marriage and the next he'd acted as though afraid he'd lose her to one of the Summit delegates. Han was grumbling under his breath, but caught himself before his face slid into a full-scale frown.

"Smile for the camera, highness," he whispered into her ear as he caught sight of the near dozen HoloNet News cameras that surrounded and spilled through the entrance to the ballroom. Leia chuckled a little and sidled up closer to him. Maybe his insane jealousy would be quelled a little if she made a show of being close to him for the benefit of the cameras. Han smiled down at her, well aware of what she was doing and why. He had to admit that she was good to him.

They were still smiling at each other as they passed through the outer doors to the ballroom. The metallic outer doors were standing open but Han and Leia were forced to wait for the two inner doors, giant wooden artifices that parted for them automatically (albeit with no particular haste) to come open. Han guessed that in Palpatine's day this vestibule had been lined with guards and teeming with scanners. It would have been easy enough to calibrate scanners to any species and scan them down to the last molecule in the time it took for the inner doors to open up. Tonight Han knew the scanners weren't functioning. And where there had likely once been Imperial Storm Troopers standing guard, now there stood a gauntlet of camera people from News Net stations from all over the known galaxy.

As they proceeded through the inner set of doors, Han was taken slightly aback by the sheer size of the place. Sure, the doors were giant, but that had hardly prepared him for the scale of the banquet hall. This was the largest room—hangar bays not included, perhaps— that Han had ever heard tell of, much less experienced firsthand. Not that he was any connoisseur of Imperial Era banquet facilities, but this place was too big; it made him that much more itchy for his blaster.

The round tables that took up much of the floor space were arranged in rows graduated in size from the walls to the periphery of the tiled dance floor in the center. This arrangement gave the room the feeling of being even larger; fooling the eye into believing the tables against the wall were farther afield instead of just marginally smaller than those in the center. At the far end, on a slightly raised platform, Han could see the long rectangular head table. Just how far away from Leia would he be all night?

There were representatives in this room from every species Han had ever heard of, and more than a few that he had never seen before. There were the usual suspects, of course: races of people Han had seen at the First Conference of Free Peoples and the Galactic Congress on Zhotta 3. But there were also Bith, Calibops, Shistavanen, Drall, and Gungans, in addition to the literally hundreds of humans (including the Alderaanians who had somehow managed to slip into the room ahead of Han and Leia). None of those had been any real surprise, but Han was a little bit shocked to see Rodians, Snivvians, Chadra-Fan, Gammoreans, Squibs, Devaronians, Barabels, and at least a dozen species he couldn't even place. They were spread out, some chatting in homogenous groups and others mingling with small bands of dissimilar species.

"Wow," Han said to Leia candidly. "I had no idea." Leia nodded and patted his arm.

"We're very pleased with the turnout," she shared quietly. "Nearly all of the non-human species that we invited took us up on the invitation."

"And plenty of the humans, too," Han observed. Leia nodded again.

"This Summit should be very productive," she asserted.

"And you're sure there are no Imperials?" he asked, still scanning the room awe-struck at the diversity in the crowd.

"None," Leia assured him. "Although several worlds with suspected Imperial loyalties did petition to attend, we chose not to limit the invitations." She leaned in closer to Han and continued, "The Inner Council was aware enough that security could be a concern at so large a gathering; particularly in light of the fact that there is scarcely a scanner or a surveillance system in operation in Imperial Center at the moment." She shrugged her shoulders. "Better that we handle this among friends," she asserted, "allow ourselves to build the government that we want. If any world that prospered under Palpatine wishes to join us once that is accomplished, then the New Republic will consider their petitions for membership one at a time and on their own merits."

"You seem to have everything under control, princess," Han allowed, trying not to frown as he considered the size of the crowd and the fact that there was nothing but the honor system to ensure none of them were armed or dangerous. Leia may trust these people, but he didn't.

"Don't sound so surprised," Leia whispered in reply, winking at him as she took her hand from his arm and waved at someone across the room. Han rose up on tip toes to try and see who had caught Leia's attention, but he had no idea; the crowd was just too big. He must have worn that wonder all over his face because Leia answered his question without his having had to ask it. "I need to go," she said to him, "Mon Mothma and Councilor Beruss are waiting for me; everyone else is taking their seats. Your table is back there," she added, pointing to the back left-hand corner of the room. "I'll see you after dinner." Leia squeezed his arm lightly before letting go. Han nodded, rolling his eyes at the assigned seating, but letting her go.

He turned to head toward his own table. Leia hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said it was in the back. Han recognized several others in New Republic officers' uniforms gathered in the extreme rear corner Leia had pointed to. Could they have seated him any farther from her? As Han approached the table he was able to easily recognize the voice, and the billowing velvet cape, of an old friend. Lando Calrissian, General Lando Calrissian, had his back to the room and was chatting enthusiastically with an amused-looking General Cracken who was already seated.

"I'm afraid I'm losing confidence in this Republic already," Han heckled, clapping his hand on his old friend's shoulder. "I mean: since when did they let the likes of you into parties like this one?"

Lando turned around to greet him, putting out his hand for a shake and grinning from ear to ear. "Since I took out the Death Star," Lando answered his question, pointing at the General's insignia on his lapel.

"Yeah, in my ship," Han reminded him, smirking at the retort.

"How ya doin' you old pirate?" Calrissian asked his old friend.

"Can't complain," Han answered him with a shrug. The truth was; he could complain, about a lot of things, beginning with the uniform and ending with the seating arrangement. And had it just been the two of them he likely would have. Lando was as sympathetic an ear as he was likely to find. However, with General Cracken in earshot Han chose discretion as the better part of valor.

"You've just missed a trip to the bar," Lando told him. A drink might do some good right now, but Han figured that staying sober would be the wiser choice in the long run.

"I'm probably better off," Han allowed, "I'm on my best behavior tonight."

"So I'm noticing," Lando commented, stepping back just enough to get a good view of Han in his uniform. "Look at you," he declared, "spit and polished, got a haircut, medals all shining…" Lando shook his head in amusement.

"Poke fun all you want, Lando," Han jeered, "I didn't see you walking in here with a princess tonight." Lando chuckled and threw up his arms as though in surrender.

"And how is the lovely Leia?" Calrissian asked, pulling out the chair beside Cracken's and taking a seat.

"She's great," Han answered, wishing instantly that he had managed to keep a little bit of his fascination with her out of his voice. Hopefully Lando would let that slide.

"All right Solo," another familiar voice sounded from behind him, "we get it. You got the girl; you don't have to rub it in." Han shook his head; this dinner might not be as lame as he'd originally posited.

"Wedge Antilles!" Han greeted the new arrival, seating himself beside Lando and watching as the younger man handed over a frosted glass of light blue Gizer Ale to Lando. "Pardon me for brusqueness," he added, "but what the hell are you doing here?" Wedge Antilles, although lauded as the 'Conqueror of Coruscant' and widely revered as the only pilot to have flown sorties to both Death Stars, had done his level best to avoid parties like this one. He was a regular guy, and a military man, the kind who would much rather be overflying the place looking for anything suspicious than sitting down to a fancy dinner. Come to think of it: Han and Wedge had than in common.

Antilles sighed and sank into the chair to Han's left. "Skywalker," he groaned, frowning intently. "He was scheduled to be back from Terephon yesterday. But he's not back yet. And I was the first guy with enough of these to his name," Wedge pointed to the medals pinned to his uniform coat, "that Admiral Ackbar saw in the hall."

"Let me get this straight, Wedge," a relaxed looking General Rieekan inserted as he approached the table from the same direction Wedge had come. He had a glass of teal-colored wine in his hand, which he set on the table before taking a seat on the far side of Cracken. "You're attending the welcome dinner of the New Republic Charter Summit because you were in the hallway at the wrong time?" Rieekan was smirking at that; he had known Wedge long enough to understand what made that so funny.

"Actually, I was in the hangar," Antilles answered the older man. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. "Maybe Ackbar came looking for me, I don't know," he admitted, "but I'm here—because there can't be an empty chair and Skywalker's late getting back."

"Is that something we should be worried about?" Han asked, turning to General Cracken. Airen Cracken was the head of New Republic Intelligence, and would be the one person who would know if Luke's absence was something that should concern him greatly.

"No," Cracken replied immediately, shaking his head slowly and shrugging his shoulders. "I'd say it was a little optimistic to begin with thinking that he'd be back in time for the opening ceremonies," he added.

"And with the Vice Ducha along," Lando added, shaking his head as he took up his drink again. Han had apparently missed something. He had been marginally aware of the fact Luke had gone as emissary to a world considering sending a delegation to the Summit, but that was all he knew.

"Why's that such a stretch?" Han asked Lando casually. Calrissian shook his head.

"You really should read more intelligence reports," he teased.

Han shrugged. He had to admit to himself that he scarcely ever paid attention to the daily reports sent out by New Republic Intelligence. The memo went out to all high ranking military personnel, but rarely did it actually affect him. Usually, he scanned the first several pages for anything concerning Leia and then went straight to the smashball scores that were inevitably at the end of the document; an old joke that had become SOP. It was likely that the day Luke's mission was included he had skipped reading the thing altogether.

"Yeah, I guess," Han conceded. "Somebody want to tell me anyway?" he asked, leaning on the table in Lando's direction.

"The short version:" General Cracken answered. "Terephon is the only planet in the Hapes consortium that answered the invitation at all. The other worlds acted as though it never arrived; which is odd, because Terephon is the hardest to get to. It's out in the Transitory Mists and they tend to have very little to do with other worlds, even other Hapan worlds. Apparently the Ducha of Terephon was interested in sending a delegation to the Summit, but the Queen Mother of the Hapan Cluster found out and came out against it. The New Republic Inner Council, who had been rather pleased at the response from even one world inside the Hapes Cluster, decided to try and smooth any ruffled feathers the Queen Mother might have over the Ducha of a single planet showing dissonance. They decided Skywalker was the man for the job. Unfortunately, the Queen Mother wanted nothing to do with meeting with Luke or anyone else from the New Republic. But Luke thought it best to make the trip anyway. He wanted to see what he could do to convince the Terephon delegation to attend the Summit regardless of the feelings of the Queen Mother."

"And he was due back yesterday," Wedge reiterated.

"Has anyone heard anything?" Han asked, his brow furrowing at the idea of Luke being more than a day overdue and no one seeming to care.

"No," Cracken answered again. "But that's to be expected. The Mists block out long range holocomm transmissions. He couldn't get word to us if he wanted to." Han nodded his head. He had a bad feeling about this.

Han watched as Leia and the other members of the Provisional Council stepped onto the small riser and took their seats at the head table. Surely if something had happened to Luke, she would know about it. They had a sense of each other like that; it had saved both of their lives on more than one occasion- even before they had known what was behind it. And it was likely that she was the one to have suggested Luke be the emissary to begin with. Even if that wasn't the case: Han knew that Leia did read the Intelligence Reports every day and that she knew where her brother was and what he was supposed to be doing.

Han was watching Leia's face for any sign of discord, of concern or trouble; but he found none. She looked the picture of serenity— blissful even— as she took her seat on the dais between Mon Mothma and Borsk Fey'lya. Leia looked beautiful and right at home in the center of attention. Han felt himself aspiring to be there with her, just to be beside her as she enjoyed the fruits of the battles they'd fought. He had been studying her so hard that he somehow missed Generals Dodonna, Madine, and Tantor seating themselves between Rieekan and Wedge.

"Sure you don't need a drink there, Solo," Wedge commented, pulling Han out of his reverie and contemplation. If Leia could relax and not worry about Luke, then he could do his best to enjoy this evening as well. And the Provisional Council had known what they were doing; putting this bunch in the back corner. The 'Heroes of the Alliance' were both the least likely people to care if they were seen by the others at the party and the only people who wouldn't be offended by being the farthest from the center of action. Not to mention the clearly deliberate reality that they were able to get to and from the bar with ease and relative stealth. If the heroes of the Alliance wanted to get plastered at this event, no one was going to stop them. But still, Han knew himself, and the last thing he ought to consider at this party was getting too buzzed and running the risk saying or doing something that could have galactic consequences or worse.

"Nah," Han answered, letting his concern for Luke dissolve as he turned to face his buddy.

"He's just staring at the princess," Lando posited. Han cast a frown at his old friend. "Not that I blame you," Lando amended. Han shrugged.

"It's just that when you bring a girl to a party," he replied, "you kind of want to see her." Lando and Wedge chuckled at that. Han thought he saw General Rieekan suppressing a smile as well. The elder General had known Leia since her childhood and had been a close associate of her father. Han had wondered more than once what Rieekan might have said privately to her about her association with the former smuggler, and his smile at this juncture was more a comfort to Han than he might have guessed.

"You can see her fine from there," Lando joked.

"If one of you gentlemen happens to have a pair of electrobinoculars," Han jested back.

"Dinner's coming out already," General Madine chimed in, gesturing with his head to the service droids entering through small portals that had opened up in the wood paneling of the room.

"Only the first course," Rieekan commented.

"How many courses are we dealing with?" Wedge asked, his eyes growing wide at the mention of the word 'only'.

"Eleven," Lando replied to his question, a broad smile crossing his face. "Eleven delectable courses of Ithorian cuisine," he added, waggling his eyebrows at the thought of dinner.

"The Ithorians have brought some of their most celebrated chefs," General Rieekan added, sipping his wine. "It should be quite a meal."