Motives

"They loved me out there." ~Han Solo

Chapter 33

New Alderaan, three months later

"The University Commons, along the bank of this lake, here?"

Princess Leia walked out onto the soft sand of the lake's shore. The wind coming in from the west tossed the loose hairs framing her face and she inhaled the warm, humid air. "Yes," she said. "This will do nicely."

She was one of a large group touring the first continent that would be settled in the name of New Alderaan. There were engineers, historians, and other dignitaries all eager to breathe new life into this vast, undeveloped land. Eager to give the thousands of displaced Alderaanians a place to remind them of the homes and families they had lost and to provide them a place to call their own. The world that Rydonni had given them was similar in many ways to Alderaan if not exactly the same. Although the land was fertile with beautiful, rolling hills, large bodies of water and dense forests teaming with natural wildlife, it lacked the vast, mountainous regions that were so majestic and beloved to Alderaanian residents and tourist alike. But that was only to be expected. Nothing would ever replace Alderaan.

The group walked back across the open field toward the scattering of temporary buildings that had been placed there for this project. As they approached, Leia noticed a familiar figure standing outside of the tiny building that she called home.

"Princess, I hope you're finding everything suits you well?"

"Val," Leia answered, as she approached him and gave him a quick hug. "It's...perfect," she said, looking back toward the lake from where they had just come. It was not Alderaan and never would be, but that was not their goal nor their intention. It wouldn't replace what they had lost in the past, but it would be a place where they would have a future.

"We'll start back again tomorrow?" One of the engineers called over to her.

"Yes, thank you," Leia replied and then turning to open the door to her small building, she said to Val, "Please, come on in."

Leia's temporary residence on New Alderaan served as her office, bedroom, living and dining room all rolled into one. Having been buried in this new project since her arrival, she quickly moved blueprints off the table, threw spent food containers into the trash and deftly swept a stray piece of underwear under her desk. Things had begun moving at lightning speed once all of the paperwork and deals had been done. The Alderaan Council to which she had been elected had been a small and disjointed group of beings scattered across the galaxy while Leia had been petitioning for land and resources. But now it had grown into a more organized committee looking to preserve all of the best parts of Alderaanian culture, history and society.

"How are you?" she asked Val, as she continued to finish up the impromptu cleaning of her small space. "How's the shipyard contract? Everything working out as you had hoped?"

"Better than I could've hoped," Val replied, taking a seat by her small table. "You've been busy," he said to her as she continued to place datacards in little stacks and to fold up hard papers. "I've seen the preliminary drawings for your capital city. The renderings are nothing short of breathtaking."

Leia agreed. She had certainly welcomed the energy and eagerness of the new committee and its members - who continued to reach out to her and arrive on-planet daily. But she had been blindsided by an unforeseen consequence of suddenly getting everything she had asked for. In hindsight, certainly she should've seen it coming. She didn't know why she hadn't. But it hadn't taken the group long to begin discussions of government buildings, the university, a spaceport and inevitably: the Royal Palace. Which then lead to a discussion regarding the Alderaanian Monarchy, which was traditionally hereditary.

House Organa was the Royal House of Alderaan and she was its lone, surviving member. Just a few sentences into these initial discussions and she felt like she imagined Han had when he had somehow instantly become President. Would she inherit a title that would define her future more than any other decision or choice she had ever made? It was true that her entire upbringing had been centered on her preparation to eventually inherit the crown from her mother, but those thoughts and expectations had been shelved once she had joined the Alliance and then discarded completely after the destruction of her home planet.

As disconcerting as it had been, the committee's initial discussion on the subject had been as brief as it had been vague. The possibility of switching to an elected monarchy was brought up by one of the older historians, an idea that Leia fully supported, however, it had been quickly dismissed as unnecessary by another member "since a descendent of the Royal House had survived the tragedy."

"Are you planning to begin building near this lake?" Val spoke into her silence.

"Yes, sorry," she replied. "We're thinking of placing the university campus along that far bank."

"It's a wonderful choice," Val said. And then looking around her cramped quarters, he added, "Perhaps you should think of building the dormitories first?"

Leia laughed. "It's true," she agreed, looking around. "I've had dormitory rooms bigger than this. But I do have a mini-cooler and a hot plate. Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?"

Val shook his head, waving his hand in polite refusal. "No, no thank you. But if you're hungry-"

"No, I'm fine," she replied automatically, taking a seat behind her desk.

"So, now that all the pleasantries are out of the way. I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here."

"You don't need a reason to visit. This all wouldn't've happened without you."

"I'm flattered by that comment, but you and I both know that I didn't orchestrate this."

"I know." She thought of who had but quickly moved her thoughts along. "But, regardless, it wouldn't've been possible without you. And you agreed. Got Rydonni to agree. That's worth something."

"I suppose you're right," he replied, running his finger along the edge of the plastaform table.

"What is it?"

"How are you and the Corellian President?" He asked. "I was very sorry to hear of his wife's passing."

"Thank you," she replied. "As was I."

Han had holo'd her personally to tell her that Sasha had died and that he had won the election. Although never, even when times had been at their worst, had she ever wished for Eliza's mother to die, the shared relief in both of their voices could not be denied. She had asked about Eliza and Han had informed her that the young girl was taking it extremely well. They were both mature enough to understand that Han could hardly run into her arms the moment that he had been made a free man, but just knowing that the path had been cleared for them had made Leia's impatience to see him again swell.

Leia shook her head, her thoughts strolling down that well-worn road way too easily. She continued, "We haven't spoken recently, I know he's been busy with the inauguration and the relocation." President of the Associated Systems of Corellia for four more years. Leia couldn't help but wonder what that acceptance speech had looked like.

Val turned his head around and studied her tiny living quarters once again. When he looked back at her, he asked, "Would you like to come to dinner? A real dinner? Back on Rydonni?"

Leia's stomach growled at the mere prospect of real food. There was literally nothing on this planet yet and she had been sustaining herself on ration bars and freeze-dried ready-meals. She didn't know how she had lived off of that stuff for so long during her years with the Rebel Alliance.

"Rydonni is only a short jump away," Val offered, seeming to recognize the look of temptation on her face. "I could have you back before bedtime."

Leia studied him, looking for some angle or danger. They had always been honest with each other and she didn't feel as if he was being anything but chivalrous seeing how she had been living these past two months. Although...

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Was that the only reason you came here? To ask me to dinner?"

"If I said yes, would that change your answer?"

He was flirting with her, there was no doubt about that. But flirting she could handle. She just didn't want to mislead anyone or give him the wrong idea. She leaned back in her chair. He had already guessed about her and Han's relationship, but still. "Probably," she answered honestly.

Val smiled. "Well, then. I do have some trade agreements to discuss with you. Being your nearest neighbor and with construction due to begin shortly, New Alderaan's needs will be growing and we are here to assist."

"For a price, of course."

"That's what I'd like to talk to you about...over dinner."

She looked down at her desk, at all the paperwork, datacards and half-eaten ration bars. "Alright, sure," she said and did her best to avoid noticing how Val's face lit up in response.

Corellia

"Mr. President!"

"Your Excellency!"

"One more question!"

Han stood in front of the official, presidential podium with its dozens of voice recorders and pointed at one of the members of the press, "Alright, Kurl," he said. "One more question. Whatdya have?"

"Thank you, sir," the reporter replied, looking down at his notes. "You have won this election handily after not living in the system for over a decade, spending most of that time with a group of rebels and now you have opened up immigration for an undisclosed amount of residents from the Rydonni System."

"Was that a question?" Han interjected into the press man's pause. Other members of the press chuckled and took still photos of him.

"No," Kurl replied, soberly. "My question is: do you plan to change the very fabric of Corellia? With just being handed four galactic years in office, many people worry about what you have in store for the Corellian systems considering that your platform was of little substance."

Han leaned toward the microphone and said, "My platform was not to vote for me." This comment, however true, garnered another wave of laughter. "But, seriously," he continued. "As for your first comment. No, I haven't lived in-system for a long time and I spent some time with some rebels, but those rebels were fighting for freedom - something that as a Corellian, I hold very dear."

There was an energetic eruption of applause.

Han held his hand up. "I didn't want this position," Han said. "That was no joke. But, I wasn't handed this job, as you put it. The people wanted me, goddess knows why. So, the only thing I can do is to give the people what I would want: And that's a strong, independent Corellia. A Corellia who stands on its own financially and politically but who is an ally to all others who want the same and has the military power to protect themselves and those allies should we ever be called to it."

The applause grew louder and some people stood and whistled and yelled.

Han held his hand up again, but to no avail. As everyone stood and cheered, Han waved and was eventually grabbed gently by the arm and led off of the dais.

Office of the President, Coronet City, Corellia, a few hours later

"We need to work on your public persona."

Han was sitting at his desk reading reports. The new citizens from the Rydonni System were arriving daily. The rolling blackouts were becoming more and more infrequent as new employees were being trained. The streets of Coronet City were bustling with mid-day foot traffic and the housing market was on the rise.

"Sir?"

Han looked up at his Press Secretary. Xinithia Zarst, a female Czerialan.

She looked back at him and arched an eyebrow.

"You're serious," Han scoffed. "Xin, you're killing me. They loved me out there." Han hitched his thumb in the direction of the window.

"Yes, well," Xin replied. "Public opinion can be very fickle. We need to ensure we capitalize on this honeymoon period and protect us from any...unforeseen issues."

"For sith's sake," Han cursed. "Gharris, help me out here."

Gharris had been sitting quietly in the corner of Han's office, taking notes and absorbing everything - Han was sure.

Since winning the election and officially becoming president and not just "acting president', Han had had the opportunity to dismiss and appoint many of his supporting staff. It didn't take much deliberation on his part to keep Gharris Stanton on as his personal assistant and advisor. Although aggravating at times, he was loyal and gave good advice and Eliza loved him, so there was that.

Gharris laid his stylus down on top of his datapad and looked at Han seriously. "She has a point, Your Excellency," he said as Han immediately groaned in response. Gharris stood. "The people like you, yes. They respond to your...sincerity. But that response can turn from love to loathing quicker than your beloved Millenium Falcon can jump into hyperspace."

The Falcon. Han had told Chewie to take her, but the big oaf hadn't. So she sat in a military hangar amongst the more official modes of transportation that Han utilized now. All of them larger, sleeker and newer than his beloved ship. But none outclassed her.

Gharris walked over to stand beside Han's desk. "Xin? Why don't you let me speak to His Excellency about this and we'll get back to you. Agreed?"

"Agreed," she said, standing from her chair and leaving with a curt bow in their direction.

Gharris barely waited for the door to close before saying, "She does have a point, you must realize. It is not for nothing that you have a Press Secretary and a speech writer on your staff. Use them. We've discussed this."

"If you want someone to read a speech, then hire an automatron."

"Talking points," Gharris countered. "Avoiding words and sentiments that could be misconstrued-"

"I won this election," Han interrupted. "Without even trying. What do I care if I misspeak? I'll apologize, if I need to. It's not as if I'm worried about re-election."

"Yes, well, that would be very short-sighted of you, sir."

"No." Han stood. They had talked about this already. Orakzai dying. The Imperial poison. The tenuous position of Corellia. There had been many reasons for him to agree to remain as the elected president. But he sure as hell wasn't going to spend another single term in office. "That," Han pointed at Gharris. "That line of thinking that I know you're going down, it's closed. You know that. In fact, where the hell are we on term limits?"

One of Han's first official pet projects was to implement term limits. No more decades and decades of the same politicians lining their wallets and forgetting where they came from.

Gharris sighed. "It has to be vetted and go through voting, anyway, we don't have to talk about that now. I know how it upsets you. But garnering public opinion and keeping it positive, it is an art. And although you might not care about what lies ahead of this administration, the tone you set during this rebuild will be the song that is carried on after you leave, in your ship, to points unknown."

Han was slightly humbled by his advisor's words but not swayed in any significant way. The minute he was able to walk up the ramp of the Falcon again and fire up her thrusters, would be a very good day no matter what he might be leaving behind on Corellia - except for Eliza. But Han hoped if and when he left, that Eliza would opt to come with him. From there, it didn't matter where he went, as long as Leia was there waiting for him when he arrived.

"With the public on your side, the changes you can implement, the accomplishments you could achieve…" Gharris had walked over to the window and was looking out of it. He looked back to Han and said, "They are quite limitless. The public can be very malleable if handled in the right way."

Han looked at the black ribbon tied around Gharris' bicep in remembrance of both Orakzai and just recently the passing of Orakzai's daughter - Sasha, Han's wife. He then adjusted the black ribbon on his own bicep and considered Gharris' words very thoughtfully. After a short while, he nodded his head and said, "Okay, alright. I'll listen to their advice. Review their talking points, but…"

"But?"

"But," Han said. "I have some questions of my own about public opinion and just how malleable the people of Corellia can be."