Chapter Seven

Han walked out of the 'fresher and stood before the wide windows, which gave him a remarkable view of the glimmering blue Maramere ocean. Scrubbed clean and fresh from the salt and sand that had been wind-blasted into his skin during the repulsorsurfing excursion, he savored the sight for a long minute.

Then he reached for the control panel, and the button which would shift the window tint and plunge the room into darkness.

It was time for a nap.

Just before his finger pressed the button, a sharp warble echoed through the bedroom. His comlink. And not Leia calling, either. Of course.

Sighing, Han strode over to the table. He snatched up the device and activated it. "Solo."

"It's Fel," said Soontir's voice.

"Leia's not here. I assume they're still busy with the dressmaker."

"Syal's not here either, so I'm inclined to agree. But that's not why I'm calling."

"Oh? Well, if you're looking for a massage, you'd better call someone else."

Fel chuckled. "Trust me, I would. Are you busy?"

"Depends why you want to know."

"Points for candor. I was checking to see if you would be available to meet me in the main lobby to greet one of our arrivals."

"Who?"

"It will be more fun if it's a surprise."

Han rolled his eyes. "Have it your way."

"Wear something nice, but not too formal. I don't want to give the wrong impression."

"Blood stripes. Got it. I'll meet you down there in ten."

"Make it seven."

"Fine." Han shut off the comlink and slapped it down on the table. "What, you think you're my commanding officer or something?"

Despite his frustration, he paced over to the closet and picked out a shirt and slacks combination that fit the bill. A few minutes later, he emerged from the turbolift into the ornate lobby of the Grand Hotel. Glancing around, he saw Fel standing near the main entrance, his entourage trying and failing to look discreet.

"All right, I'm here," Han said when he reached his old rival. "Ready to tell me who we're waiting on yet?"

"No."

Han scowled. "Glad I could help you out, then."

Fel flashed a mischievous grin. "It will be worth the wait."

"Better be."

Han turned to the entrance. Almost on cue, he watched a pair of Mandalorian commandos march into the hotel. "Hey, wait a minute," he said accusingly to Fel, "I thought we made it perfectly clear that Daala's goon squads weren't welcome."

"They're not," Soontir shot back.

"Captain Solo!" One of the Mandalorians, a woman in saffron-adorned armor, was waving at him.

Brow raised, Han waved back tentatively.

Striding briskly toward him, the woman removed her helmet.

When she arrived, Han shook her hand. "It's good to see you well, Mirta."

"Especially under better circumstances." Her companion stepped up from behind her, also removing his helmet.. "This is my husband, Ghes Orade."

"A pleasure to meet you," Ghes said as they shook hands.

"And this," Han said, "is Jag's father, Soontir Fel."

Fel shook their hands, ignoring their attempts to be deferential to the Empire's newest leader. "I know Jaina will be delighted you were able to make it."

Mirta smiled. "Ghes and I are hoping her jetii friends will duplicate the bottle-opening feat she performed at our wedding."

"Or something better," Ghes said with a grin, then indicated the reception desk. "We'd better go check in."

After they were gone, Fel said, "They seem nice enough for Mandolorians. Syal was worried when Jaina insisted on inviting them."

"It's good they –" Han stopped when he saw another figure in Mandalorian armor walk through the main doors. "But she sure as hell didn't invite him."

Han didn't even realize his feet were moving until he found himself standing in front of Boba Fett.

"Hello, Solo." Slowly and deliberately Fett took off his helmet and tucked it into his elbow. "Congratulations on your daughter's nuptials."

"You could have sent a card." Han glared, inwardly kicking himself for forgetting his blaster upstairs. "So, what? Now you've gone from bounty hunter to wedding crasher?"

Behind him, Soontir stifled a snort.

"We just saw Mirta arrive with Ghes," Han continued, "so I know you're not her date. And I know for a fact you're not on the guest list, so you might as well just turn around and –"

Fett laughed. "Oh, you're correct, Solo. I'm not here as a guest. But I am here as a date."

"What?" Han blinked. "Whose?"

He glanced over his shoulder to Fel, who could offer only a raised brow and befuddled shrug.

Fett grinned, and canted his head toward the doors behind him. "Hers."

Han had to keep his jaw from bouncing off the floor as he watched Chief of State Daala sweep through the entrance, accompanied by a retinue of aides and porters. Shoulders straight, head held high, she acted like she owned the place. Han wanted to rip that smile off her face with his bare hands. He would have, too, if it weren't for the six Senate guards who followed her through the doors..

Fel edged around him and moved toward Daala. Keeping a step behind, Han followed.

"Daala," Fel said, stepping in front of her with a fake grin on his face and his hands spread wide in greeting, "how wonderful to see you again."

After motioning Fett and her aides to keep a respectful distance, she granted him an equally fake smile in return. "Fel. I've been looking forward to this. I was so delighted –" From her tone, it sounded like she meant disappointed. "– to learn you were still alive after all those years vanished into the Unknown Regions."

Fel's grin became a subtle smirk. "Likewise, Admiral."

"Indeed." She gestured with a hand, encompassing the ostentatious lobby around them. "Remarkable, isn't it, General? How circumstances have changed?"

"I'm not sure I take your meaning."

"For the both of us. Two exiles from the Empire. Traitors, surely, in the eyes of some. And yet now we lead two of the most powerful governments in the galaxy."

"Ah. Yes." Fel gave a curt nod. "I suppose there is some irony in that."

"More than a little." The look in Daala's eyes was wicked, almost mad. Then suddenly she grew sad – and genuinely so, as far as Han could tell. "Still, I wish we had not had to lose Gilad for these circumstances to come to pass."

This time Fel's nod was genuine, too. "That is something we can both unequivocally agree on."

"Yes." The mad look was back now. "I doubt we would agree as much on the proper fate for some of the Moffs you now lead."

"Perhaps not. Although I imagine we may not differ so much on a few." Fel leaned in, almost conspiratorial, and Han had to listen closely to hear him. "I almost have the impression you would trade places with me, just to have the pleasure of dealing with those Moffs yourself."

Daala's only reply to that was a grin. "Well, I will just have to content myself with dealing with the Jedi." When Fel raised a brow, she continued, "Oh, I am quite looking forward to personally serving Master Durron with the formal subpoena to appear before the Caridan Tribunal."

Fel's lips curled into a smirk again. "I hate to disappoint you, Natasi, but I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Is he unable to attend? What a shame. I am certain Jaina would want all her lifelong friends to be here."

"Oh, he's here." Fel's grin was expanding. "But you have no authority to serve an Alliance subpoena within Imperial territory. And serving it anywhere else will be problematic as well, as I've just signed papers assuring Master Durron's diplomatic immunity."

Daala's gaze went suddenly dark, and vicious. "What?"

Han had to hand it to Fel. His pair of bombshells had been delivered with the strategic precision of an ace fighterjock. Daala was so stunned by the combined volley she apparently couldn't even grasp which one to question first.

Fel wore a mad grin of his own now. "I'm afraid the Alliance's resort taxation quotas have been suffocating the planet's economy. Maramere's ruling Protectorate determined the Empire's offer better suited their needs. But I'm sure you'd rather assess the details of the treaty once the wedding is behind us."

Han almost laughed out loud. Then he realized he had no idea what Fel was talking about. "Hey, when –"

Fel gave him the universal gesture for shut it. When Daala only continued glaring, he added, "Oh, yes, Master Durron. I've offered him a position as a Special Envoy between the Empire and the Jedi, as well as an appointment as a Special Advisor to the ISS in matters involving the Force."

"This is outrageous," Daala spat. "You have no authority to –"

"Of course I do," Fel said, all quiet and calm. "We aren't the old Empire, and we will countenance no reprisals against the Jedi or other Force users simply for who they are. In fact, we welcome the contribution they can bring to our efforts to bring peace and prosperity to the people of the galaxy, within the Empire and without."

"Save it for the Holonet, General." Her eyes narrowed. "You won't get away with this."

"Actually, I think I will."

Daala scowled, and turned to leave. "I'll see you at the wedding."

That drew Han out of his observations. He shot around Fel and straight into her path. "No, you won't."

"Ah. Solo." The fake smile was back. "Congratulations on your daugh–"

"Spare me," he said, making sure to glower extra hard. "Better read that invitation again. You're invited to the reception and related festivities. That's it."

Daala put on a mock sad face. "How disappointing."

Han took a step closer. "You're here because you have to be. Politically. Nothing more. But if you think I'm going to let you use my little girl's wedding as a public relations spectacle, you're even more insane than I thought."

"I see." She was all business, and full of ice. "I'm sure the slight to the Chief of State will not go unnoticed on the Holonet."

"I'm sure you're right." He held her gaze. "My father-in-law killed the Emperor, and my daughter killed your immediate predecessor. You think I'm worried if my family does a little political snub to a head of state?"

Daala said nothing. She gave only the slightest of tips of her head, then stalked back toward Fett, who had been waiting in his trademark silent-but-deadly pose.

Han turned to Fel. "You're right. That was definitely worth the surprise."

Fel shook his head. "Polite as always, Solo."

"Oh, give me a break." He gave him a single pat on the back. "Better my honesty than all that phony garbage you were spouting."

Fel raised a brow. "Would your wife say the same?"

"Probably not. But she's not here, is she?"

"I suppose not."

Han drew up tall. "That felt good."

They started to walk toward the turbolifts. "Hey, that stuff you said about Kyp. Is it really true?"

"It will be." Fel flashed a smirk. "The immunity papers exist. As for the official offer of his Imperial role, it has yet to be laid on the table. I'm leaving that part up to your daughter."

Which meant there was no way Kyp could possibly decline. Well played. "Pretty sneaky of you, Fel."

"A scoundrel's approval. What more could I ask for?"

"You've been watching too many holodramas. I haven't been a scoundrel since –"

"Father." Jag moved across the lobby at a pace that almost made the unflappable young man look rushed.

"Jagged," Soontir said, holding up a palm. "What's wrong?"

"It's Jaina."

Han's heart skipped a beat. "What happened?"

"She… uh…" Suddenly Jag didn't so much look panicked as embarrassed. "She threw me out."

Soontir raised a brow. "Explain."

Jag ran a hand through his hair. "I was getting cleaned up from repulsorsurfing when she just shoved me to the door. She told me to share a room with Cem tonight, that we needed to… uh, anticipate our wedding night."

Soontir's eyebrow arched. Han tried unsuccessfully to stifle a snicker. Then he said, "What'd you do, Jag?"

"Nothing."

"Seriously, son," Soontir said. "You must have done something, or said something. What was it?"

"Nothing," Jag insisted. "I've replayed everything in my mind, but there's nothing."

Han patted Jag's shoulder. "You may be right. In fact, if you had a full video and audio recording of the whole thing, your father and I would probably agree with you. But I also bet your mom and Leia would side with Jaina."

"He's right, you know," Soontir said.

Jag nodded, but he sure didn't look convinced. After a moment he met Han's gaze. "You don't think…" He sighed. "You don't think she could be freaking out again, do you?"

Han laughed. "Not a chance. If having a squad of ISS goons outside her room and guards following her every move hasn't freaked her out, nothing you did could have." Quickly he glanced to Soontir. "No offense."

Soontir shrugged. "They're not really my style, either."

Jag sighed again. "Well, I hope you're right."

Han wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Of course I am, kid."

Soontir resumed walking toward the turbolifts. "You sound rather confident."

Han tugged Jag along. "Why not? Come on, what are the odds I'd be wrong?"