Ambiguous decisions (III)

As soon as Han finished reporting to the Provisional Council about his flight to meet with the smugglers, he felt a ton of indignation about to rain down on him. He had been part of this body of power trying to govern what was once the Rebel Alliance and now the New Republic long enough to expect a different outcome. While most Council members understood what had happened, one particularly problematic voice...

"Predictably, your acquaintances among the smugglers refused to join," Admiral Ackbar's displeasure was clear. The Mon Calamari shook his large head in disapproval. His race's disdain for illegal operations and those who ran them was well-known to everyone present. So was his skepticism towards Han's mission.

** Admiral of the New Republic Gial Ackbar **

Han looked across at his wife, Leia, and scratched his ear. Was it really so hard for them to understand?

"Nobody talked about joining," he reminded them. "Smugglers are a mercantile people. They live for profit. Right now, they see no reason to abandon their lucrative business to go legal. They were quite open about our budgetary issues."

"Or perhaps there's simply no trust?" came the overly official and sympathetic voice of Borsk Fey'lya, a representative Han had expected to be first in line with criticism. Hearing the remark, Han realized he was sitting with a sour expression.

"Anything is possible," Han replied, forcing a tight smile at the Bothan.

** Advisor to the New Republic Borsk Fey'lya **

 "Even so?" Fey'lya's fur rippled, his eyes widening in mock surprise. "Are you so unsure of the mission's results, Captain Solo?"

Han rolled his eyes, closed them, and mentally counted to ten. It didn't help. Luke's Jedi relaxation techniques had never worked for him. Fey'lya knew exactly how to provoke him.

"Okay," Han said. "Yes, some smugglers openly admitted they don't trust us. They think our offer is a trap to catch them all and send them to Kessel."

"Not the worst idea," Fey'lya said, examining his nails.

Han opened his mouth to retort, but Leia's delicate cough stopped him.

"Their message is clear," said Mon Mothma, the red-haired woman who stood at the origins of the Rebel Alliance and now headed the Provisional Council. "The smugglers want money."

And not to say that Mon Mothma was wrong.

** Chancellor of the New Republic Mon Mothma **

"Which we don't have too much of," Fey'lya reminded. "You shouldn't waste resources trying to embrace the immensity."

"Who would talk," Han muttered under his breath.

"Order, Captain Solo," Mon Mothma tapped her gavel lightly. "We thank you for your participation in this mission."

"This did not solve the problem," said Admiral Ackbar. "We need proper logistics if we intend to continue fighting the Empire."

"The battle in the Obroa-skai system clearly showed that the valiant defenders of the New Republic can repel even the invasion of an Imperial Star Destroyer," Fey'lya said, continuing to examine his claws. "Perhaps the fleet's initiative to help with transportation, in light of recent events, is not without meaning?"

Judging by the silence that followed, Han had the impression that Fey'lya had thrown a thermal detonator into the room. Everyone seemed frozen, staring at the blinking light of the detonator's indicator.

"At this point, I declare the meeting of the Provisional Council closed," Mon Mothma slammed her gavel, breaking the silence.

As everyone began to gather their things, Han approached Leia.

** Leia Organa Solo **

"It could have been better, right?" He smiled wryly.

"Unfortunately," Leia smiled tightly. "Let's go, we'll talk on the way."

As they left the meeting room and began walking, Han couldn't hold back. "What was Fey'lya talking about?" he asked. He knew Leia wouldn't keep government secrets from him.

"Before you arrived, he had a veiled clash with Ackbar," she said as they walked through the Senate building rotunda. "He implied that the funding for the military is already optimal and suggested more involvement in logistics."

"Leia, it was just one Star Destroyer," Han reminded her. "The Empire has hundreds, if not thousands, of them."

"Ackbar said the same," she sighed. "Given the Empire's raids on our communications, Fey'lya demands that the fleet be more involved in supply lines. He argues that multiple fleets sitting idle is a waste while the economy stagnates. Ackbar defended himself as best he could. If hiring smugglers for transportation had worked, we could have avoided extreme measures."

"Don't tell me the Council agreed to disarm the ships," Han winced.

"Okay, I won't," Leia smiled faintly. "But it's true. A significant part of the fleet will be disarmed and used as transports in convoys."

Han rubbed his forehead vigorously. "I can accept loading civilian cargo onto warships, but why disarm them?"

"Which of us is the commander of a ship?" Leia smiled genuinely this time.

"Yes, I understand," Han sighed. "Turbolaser batteries, fighters, bombers, shuttles—they all take up space. The more space inside the ships, the more cargo they can transport."

"And that's why crews are being reduced," Leia sighed. "Ackbar isn't happy either. If only your plan had worked..."

"I'm sorry I let you down," Han took her hand.

"You haven't let anyone down," she said, playfully angry. "Ackbar himself agreed that once trade with the Outer and Middle Rings starts, the ships will return to combat missions. We just need a few months, six at most, to stabilize and build our own freight fleet. The convoy system will keep us from crisis while things are calm on the fronts."

"Well said," Han noted.

"Everything will be fine," Leia pressed herself close to him. "By the way, I have a mission. A request to join the New Republic was sent from the planet Bimmisaari. They want to send me, but the Biim still want to see Luke as a hero of the Rebellion. But I think we can all go together, right?"

"Like the good old days?" Han grinned. "You, me, Chewie, Luke, C-3PO and R2-D2..."

"Exactly," Leia's eyes lit up, unable to hide her adventurous disposition. "Like the good old times..."