Han had been of two minds about attending the meeting with the Kobothi delegation. He'd never been terribly fond of meetings, and he wasn't really sure he would be able to keep his blaster out of his hands if this one went the way he feared it might. Lando had agreed it might be best for General Solo to sit this one out. But when the delegates from the Kobothi home government had come aboard and he found out Agva Thinh was among them, he started to warm to the idea of going after all.
Sure, there was no guarantee he wouldn't murder the guy, but he was sure no jury of his peers would possibly convict him if it came to that. The son-of-a-Hutt deserved it was a defense as old as the adversarial system, and Han had faith he'd be more likely to get a medal for shooting Leia's would-be assassin than he would a jail sentence.
The thing that finally made his mind up was Leia having asked him to be there. She'd be listening in to the meeting from an adjacent office, choosing her moment to reveal herself when she saw fit. If she wanted Han sitting at the table waiting for her arrival, there was no way he was going to be anywhere else.
Every member of the New Republic Council who was aware of Leia's having survived the attack were present at the meeting. Lusiil had declined an invitation, electing instead to engage in some further form of subterfuge Han hadn't quite figured out. He owed her a great debt—they all did—but Han had bigger things to worry about this day than what their sneaky new friend was up to. He sat between Lando and the empty chair meant for Leia as the New Republic delegation waited for the Koboks to arrive.
Normally Han would have balked at the idea of sitting so close to the head of the table. He didn't like to be so much as adjacent to the center of attention. But Leia wanted him beside her, and that was enough to convince him. He also didn't mind the optics, if he were being truly honest with himself. In light of his treatment by the New Republic in general—not being granted bereavement leave among other complaints—he appreciated being seated so close to the center of power. It was the closest he was likely to get to official recognition of his relationship to Leia—at least until he talked her into marrying him.
He hoped the day would come when things like that didn't matter—when there would be no more wars to fight and who he and Leia were to each other wouldn't need to be considered in any official capacity. But for the time being he was glad to finally be considered at all.
The New Republic representatives had only been seated for a few minutes when the conference room doors swished open. Han made himself sit up straight and move his hand off his blaster. As far as their guests were concerned, he was a New Republic General, present in the meeting for the same diplomatic and military reasons as the others. Showing himself immediately as Leia's hot-tempered and angry lover wouldn't do anybody any good. Still, he was ready and willing to go that route if he started to feel like the Koboks were giving the New Republic the runaround.
The Kobothi delegation entered single file, flanked by a cadre of ship's security. Their Prime Minister wore a red velvet cape that Lando might have envied had it not clashed so garishly with his mustard-yellow carapace. Others in the party wore similar vestments, in varying lengths according to their rank. They kept their hands visible, their phalanges twitching and clacking against each other in an affectation of insectoid species that had always made Han squirm. This was not going to be pleasant.
The Koboks were led to their seats and their guards dismissed by Mon Mothma to the back of the room. She was the only one standing. She waited until she'd caught the Prime Minister's eye before speaking.
"I suppose you suspect why we've brought you here," she said.
The Prime Minister placed his hands on the table and nodded, a gesture Han took particular note of. Placing one's hands on the table was a Kobothi gesture of agreement and compliance, just as a nod of the head was a human one. Leia had made certain to tutor him on the finer points of alien diplomacy before their first trip to the Tingel Arm. And she'd told him years before how diplomats were often trained to employ the body language of their counterparts with purpose, and that watching for their native cues would speak much more to the truth of the situation than any performative gestures would. It appeared, at least to Han's untrained eye, the Prime Minister was about to be honest.
"Indeed, Madam Chief," the Prime Minister answered. "As you likely know," he began pushing his chair a short distance from the table so as to better address all in attendance, "the Kobok people have always been independent- ceding to neither Empire nor Republic. With our position so far from the Core, this has never been an issue."
"Yes," Mon Mothma affirmed, "we are well aware of the Kobothi people's history of non-engagement with the greater galactic government, which is why we were so pleasantly surprised to receive your response to our invitation to attend the Charter Summit."
The Prime Minister's carapace began to shine, beads of white liquid forming behind his antennae. Han knew this was a sign of extreme unease, and he was sure Mon Mothma knew the same. He was growing impatient with the niceties, but the Prime Minister's excretions seemed to be an indication they were getting somewhere. Han had prepared himself for hours of humming and hawing and diplomatic runarounds. The Prime Minister's choice to move immediately to the heart of the matter was a little refreshing.
"A little over a month ago," the Prime Minister said, "our system was visited by an Imperial Super Star Destroyer. The man in command calls himself a Warlord. This is not a title we were familiar with from the Empire, but he seemed to have the full force of Imperial might behind him. He demanded our cooperation, or else he threatened to cut off our planet and our people from all outside contact. Koboth is not a self-sufficient planet, Madam Councilor," he said then, "such a blockade could starve us into extinction. And we certainly lack the resources to fight the Empire—even in its currently weakened state."
"I understand," Mon Mothma said patiently, folding her hands on the table. "You couldn't risk not cooperating—for the sake of your people."
"Right," the Prime Minister said back. "This Warlord demanded we send a delegation to your summit- that we disrupt it."
Agva Thinh slammed his fists onto the table at that moment.
"They made me kill that girl!" he cried, white liquid streaming from the glands behind his antennae, filling the room with a sickly-sweet smell that turned Han's stomach almost as much as the topic of conversation. "He said if I killed that girl they would leave- they would leave us alone and let us resume commerce and we would all survive. I didn't have a choice. I did what I thought I had to do, but then they didn't leave! That Super Star Destroyer is still in our system, making more demands of us. I should never have done it! But what is the life of one woman against our entire population?"
Han was ready to put his fist in Avga Thinh's face over that question, but his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a door swishing open on the far end of the room. Leia had chosen this moment to make her entrance. Every bit of tension in Han's body released itself when he saw her.
The dress Lando had picked out for her was deep blue-black, embroidered all over in silver thread. It had a bateau neckline and slim-fitting three-quarter sleeves that buttoned at the elbow. Her hair was done up in swirls and braids, and the gentle A-line of the skirt moved just so as she stepped in the room. Han had never seen her looking more royal.
Agva Thinh fell out of his chair. The Kobok Prime Minister stood abruptly from his.
Han Solo smiled more broadly than he had in a long while.
"As you can see, gentlemen," Leia addressed the Kobothi delegation as she moved to join them at the table, "It seems you have been deceived—from multiple quarters."
"Your highness," the Prime Minister addressed Leia as he sank back into his chair. Alliance security had moved to examine Agva Thinh, who was coming to slowly as he was helped back into his seat.
Leia inclined her head toward him.
"I do apologize for the subterfuge," Mon Mothma offered their visitors. "but, under the circumstances, you can appreciate why we'd wish to keep the ambassador's survival secret until we better understood the nature of the attack."
The Koboks all placed their hands on the table, Agva Thinh included.
"Madam Chief," Thinh said to Mon Mothma, once again falling from his chair, but this time onto a knee in a gesture of subjugation. "I submit myself to whatever measure of justice the New Republic sees fit. I take full responsibility for the harm that came to her highness at my hands. But please, please, do not punish my entire planet for my having been deceived."
"Please Madam Chief," the Prime Minister picked up the conversation, "We implore you. If the Empire is truly your enemy, and you truly wish peace and freedom for the galaxy at large, we beg you to come to the aid of the Kobok people in ridding our space of this Imperial Warlord whose demands, we now understand, may never be met."
Mon Mothma inclined her head toward the Prime Minister before exchanging a look with Leia. Both women nodded in silent agreement. Han squeezed Leia's hand under the table as the Chief Councilor replied to their guests.
"The New Republic would be happy to discuss an alliance with the Kobok people in defiance of the continuation of Imperial tyranny; negotiations to begin immediately."