DRIVING THE CRAZIES

Chapter 2

(Han)

Chewie's barking at me as we prepare to take off.

"Do you think this was MY idea?" I snap at him.

{Sorry. I'm tired}.

"You and me both, pal."

{I hope they're not all gonna whine the whole way}.

"If they do, you have my permission to use your crossbow." I get a laugh out of the giant furball. I'm not capable of laughing yet. Hell, I'm barely conscious because I haven't had any kaf. Leia's putting the brew on.

Mon Mothma, Ackbar, Winter, and two envoys whose names I don't remember are all boarding.

"Captain Solo, it's good to see you." I'm happy to see Ackbar. He's the minister of defense for the provisional government and intends to retire soon. He's been involved with the Rebellion for decades now and I think he's had it all to hells.

"Likewise, Admiral," I say to him. "We should have kaf in a few minutes."

"Thank you for being available on short notice," Mon Mothma says to me. She's polite, but it's damn clear she'll never warm up to me. I don't care. She signs my chits for missions like this and that pretty well sums up our relationship, if you could call it that.

Winter's big problem is that she has perfect memory, and let's face it, we all have a lot of things we'd like to forget. She always looks sad and this doesn't surprise me. So in a way I feel really bad for her. She has to relive the horrors over and over and over. Intoxicants don't help her, and to me, that's the saddest part of it. She and Leia grew up together; Leia says they're not as close as they were when they were kids and I know they both wish that wasn't the case. War does things to people. It did me, but unlike many, I'm grateful for some of them. One of them's coming up to the cabin with two steaming mugs.

"Thanks, sweetheart. Time to get everyone settled."

"Will do." She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for doing this." I remember the first time she kissed me like this. She said that I had my moments. Not many of them, but I did have them. I'm sure this has not changed.

{I can't remember the names of the two envoys}, Chewie says to me.

"Don't you remember when we had to stamp out a fire in the Hapes cluster? We called them Thing One and Thing Two." I really do have some more choice names for them, but we'll keep it civil for now. Let's just say that they never grew out of being whiners and based on their ages, I'm not optimistic. Chewie and I are done with the precheck and raring to go.

"Okay, we're taking off!" I shout to everyone. They're already talking politics, which, no disrespect to my wife, I tend to find boring. Granted, they have a critical situation they need to work on. This means that they'll be oh so civilized for about 45 minutes, and then they'll all get frustrated and start on the digs. After that, there should be the occasional shouting, and if we're lucky, someone's gonna want to take out somebody in the docking bay.

We escape Coruscant's atmosphere and prepare to jump to light speed. The delegation is in the lounge and we don't hear any shouting. Yet. I'm hoping it stays that way. I'm not in the mood for anything else.

I page the lounge. "Going to light speed."

"Got it, thanks," Leia responds.

Fortunately, my baby hits light speed smooth as shimmersilk. "That's my girl," I say, trying to encourage her to continue to behave herself. Despite my misgivings about transporting the delegation, I do see the urgency of the situation. It's only been a month since the first elections have been held, and having a prime minister assassinated at this point isn't a good sign.

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(Leia)

"We have to see if the vote was rigged," I say to the others.

"Why would they do that? Reg Nolo was a very popular senator before the Imperial Senate was dissolved, and retained that popularity," Mon Mothma explains. "I don't think this is the problem."

"It still needs exploration." Temaso Grundeen is a one of the envoys. He's knowledgeable - and a royal pain in the ass. His whiny voice works my last nerve, and he's not even really gotten started. However, he does agree that this is an avenue we must pursue.

"There were many Imperial sympathizers on Lorell." That's from Pharell Moix, who grew up on Lorell. While it's difficult to believe, Pharell is even more annoying than Temaso. He's a Lorellian near human, and there was a great deal of prejudice against near humans during the reign of the Emperor. He is constantly becoming angry. I'm willing to cut him slack because it had to have been difficult growing up in such an atmosphere, but his temper flares frequently, and usually at the worst possible moments. But he's got the knowledge and familiarity and is thus an intrinsic part of our group. This is assuming that neither Han nor I strangle him.

Han calls them Thing 1 and Thing 2. I felt that was very diplomatic on my husband's part. I've come up with other names for them and I'm not going to repeat them in polite company.

"Reg Nolo might be popular but he's got a lot of enemies, too," Pharell points out. "He won by a really slim margin."

"Lorell doesn't have automatic runoff voting, do they?" Mon Mothma asks Pharell.

"No, never have had." Pharell answers Mon Mothma in what can only gently be described as a condescending tone. Coruscant has automatic runoff elections, but they're not popular in some places. Right now, we have to function with the laws of each planet and even more local regulations in some cases. Attorneys from each planet will have to devise these and codify them. Most of Imperial law is still applying, although emergency powers have been stripped from them. Going to war is one thing; building new governments and putting in new leadership is a very different animal. Reg Nolo is a human amidst a mix of humans and near humans. He never believed that near humans deserved fewer rights, and he has a lot of detractors in that regard. Changing laws is a lot easier than changing attitudes. It's been said that you can't legislate attitudes, but you can move the legal system in a certain direction.

"We agreed that only two individuals on each world would have one half of the code," Mon Mothma pointed out. "It's buried in multiple layers of encryption, and it would be impossible to break it."

I don't share her faith in technology. The developers may well be geniuses and have great designs. I'm grateful for many things technology does for us. But it's only as good as those that design it. And as Han has pointed out to me, some of it based on actual experience, any technology could be tampered with.

"If it can be built, it can be broken," I remind her.

"Leia, I was on the committee," Mon Mothma says to me, much like a parent would speak to an errant child. "Nothing like this can occur."

Have I mentioned that Mon Mothma gets defensive a great deal?

Winter's said nothing so far. She's probably just taking everything in as she's always done.

I didn't think of it as creepy when I was young, but now I wonder. She and I have disagreed a lot in recent history. It saddens me to be drifting away from my childhood friend but destiny doesn't always drive us to where we want to be. I feel as if my only ally in this is Admiral Ackbar. He's not only a brilliant military tactician and strategist but a kind, warm hearted sentient. He's told far too many families that one of their loved ones has died, and no one could be more gentle and empathetic. Calamarians naturally have sad eyes. His have seen more sadness than many species will in a thousand years. It hasn't hardened him, though. He seems to have been born kind.

Mon Mothma turns to him. "Admiral, what sort of military action should be taken?"

"At this time, none. We do not have enough data at this point, and military action might well be counterproductive."

"The military doesn't plan to find the assailant?" Mon Mothma asks him sharply.

"That is the responsibility of planetary security at this point in time. We will, of course, be reassessing constantly."

"And you trust security to control this?" Pharell snaps at Ackbar. "You have no idea what you're getting into!"

Mon Mothma raises her hand and gently lowers it. "Pharell, I need for you to calm down."

"Everyone will blame it on the almosts!" Pharell roars at this.

The lounge comm crackles to life. "If you guys don't mind, I'm trying to drive here, and I don't appreciate you kids carrying on in the back seat!"

Temaso becomes irritated. "You husband's got a major attitude problem!" he snarls at me.

Not half the one you have, I think, but don't say it.

If we survive this trip without Han murdering at least one of us, it'll be a miracle.

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