Spaceport Whore: Chapter 2 - Affairs of State

The small white orb of Coruscant Prime was setting, and twilight was settling over the Palace District of Coruscant. As it did, the last building in the area to receive the cool light of the distant star was the eponym of the sector itself. Known for centuries during the time of the Old Republic as the Presidential Palace, it had once housed the chambers of the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic Senate. With the end of the Clone Wars and the coming of the Dark Times, the Emperor had overseen its expansion and refurbishment, replacing his quarters at 500 Republica and his offices at the Republic Executive Building to become the foreboding, pyramidal Imperial Palace. Millions of beings had lived in terror at the prospect of being brought inside its confines for a meeting with the personification of Imperial domination, and campaigns that had led to the extermination of entire species had been planned and carried out from within its duracrete foundation. When the New Republic had liberated Coruscant, the Palace had been the center of looting and more than one lynching of Imperial officials, and grotesque torture chambers - let alone, the Emperor's Harem that put the obscenities of Jabba the Hutt's palace to shame - had been revealed in its basements, and put on display to those of Coruscant's population who had dismissed reports of Imperial atrocities as mere propaganda or sensationalistic rumors.

Nevertheless, despite its close association, and even embodiment, with the former regime, the New Republic Provisional Council had taken the Palace as its headquarters and meeting place, with each Councilor having their own offices and apartments apportioned from among the Emperor's personal living space, the New Republic Defense Forces being situated in the former Imperial High Command and New Republic Intelligence at the heart of the feared Imperial Inquisition. As if the apparently oblivious symbolism of the organs of New Republic leadership planting themselves in the heart of the old Empire wasn't enough, the building was still referred to as the Imperial Palace, not only by the public but by official New Republic documentation.

Han Solo, reflecting on this matter while riding a turbolift up the center of the Palace, didn't know which of those two was more appalling.

This particular evening saw him coming to the Imperial Palace for the only possible reason that would ever bring him there - a date with a certain Alderaani noblewoman and former Rebel freedom fighter. As the turbolift slowed down as it approached floor 1138 - Councilor's Offices - Han unconsciously ran his hands through his hair, then forced himself to stop when he realized what he was doing. She still had that effect on him, even now. He was just glad Chewie wasn't here to see that, and laugh it up. Thankfully, the big Wookiee had - after a bit of good-natured ribbing in parting - used the free time afforded by his friend's date night to head off on his own to pay a visit to an old acquaintance of theirs in the Undercity, Madame Tanajah.

The 'lift's doors opened, and Han walked down the red-carpeted hallway to the left, massive circular windows displaying the fading sunlight and artificial glitter of the Palace District and neighboring Senate, Financial, and Sah'c Districts, with the Senate Dome and the shell of the old Jedi Temple providing counterbalances - although, thanks to the Emperor's architectural instructions, just slightly less grand - to the Imperial Palace. If there was ever a bright center to the universe, those few square miles - concentrating such a huge percentage of the galaxy's wealth and political power - were surely it, and they were lit up as if to ensure no one forgot it. Several steps more, and the former space pirate had reached Executive Suite 327, the offices of the New Republic Provisional Councilor for the Alderaan Alliance.

As soon as Han walked into the vestibule, he could tell something was wrong. The doors to Leia's interior personal office were closed, and Leia's beautiful aide and fellow Alderaanian survivor, Winter Retrac, looked up nervously from where she was standing near the inner office entrance. Winter's parents had died when she was just an infant and like Leia, she had been adopted by Senator Organa and his wife, Queen Breha. The pair were only a few months in age apart and despite Winter's snow-white hair, the two looked similar enough that with little more than a brown wig Winter sometimes was able to go undercover as Leia - a disguise which was effective enough to have even fooled Sate Pestage, the former Imperial Grand Vizier who had attempted peace negotiations with the Alliance following the victory at Endor. However, while Han's favorite princess had a famously hot temper and a willingness to jump into situations headfirst, Winter was more restrained, calm, and appraising, suitable to her job as a Republic Intelligence operative. Therefore, when on those occasions when Han saw Winter looked as unhappy as she did now, he knew something was up.

"Hello, Han," Winter said, kissing him on a stubbly cheek - he had considered shaving for the night out, but he was already dressing up with his Corellian leather jacket and shoes, and he had at least a modicum of rogueish standards to maintain, didn't he? "I'm so glad you made it. I think you're just the person she needs to see now." Winter glanced at the doors of the inner sanctum. Royal fuming could practically be heard seeping in from beneath the door's bottom cracks.

Han took a glance at the door and turned back to the white-haired beauty. "There's only one thing that can get Her Worshipfulness this mad," he said, with the knowledge of experience. "Politics." As saturated in politics as Leia was, such frustration was the curse of the idealist, and none held higher ideals than the Organas of Alderaan, who were known throughout the galaxy for being second only to the Caamasi to elevating political ideals to an art form. As an unwitting result, they had also elevated bitter disappointment. That was precisely why Han preferred his own hardened cynicism. It was hard for you to mourn the betrayal of your views when you didn't have them.

Winter nodded. "The Provisional Council ended its session before you arrived." As she served as Leia's aide when not working undercover as a spy - the aide position being a useful cover - Winter had access to every meeting of the New Republic's provisional government that Leia attended, and Leia being who she was, that meant almost all of them. "Council Fey'lya was most adamant about a certain provision of his and was characteristically steadfast in defending it." Which translated to Borsk Fey'lya, the Provisional Councilor for the Combined Bothan Clans, was being his usual stubborn, self-serving self.

Han shook his head. "You better lay low, darlin'. If Borry is involved, there's no telling when this supernova might die down. Better let an old space-dog who's used to navigating tangled spacelines try and sort this through. I've been exposed to so much radiation, my skin's tough enough to survive getting burned if she erupts." Leaving Winter in the vestibule of Suite 327, and with a bravado he did not quite feel, Han opened the greel wood doors, entering Leia's private offices and quickly shutting them behind him to protect Winter. It had the distinct feeling of sealing himself into a reactor chamber.

Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, was pacing back and forth on black heeled ankle boots, hands locked behind her purple dress-clad back. She looked up at Han as he entered, her face looking as if it could summon a Force Storm. Yup, he thought to himself. Definitely only Borsk.

Without preamble, Leia launched into her tirade. "Just who does he think he is?" she growled in a very un-princesslike fashion.

Han held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Whoa. Hey. I surrender, Princess. You're preaching to the choir, here."

Leia glared at him for a second, then her eyes softened and the scowl lines marring her regal features faded. She sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Han, I shouldn't bite your head off and I shouldn't have been snappy at Winter earlier, either, not over some little political dustball like Borsk. He shouldn't get to me like that. He didn't used to, but ever since..." Leia looked up into Han's eyes, and sighed again. It had been a long fight against the Empire, and many - too many, perhaps, even among those who should know better - had thought that everything would be fine and peace and prosperity and freedom would break out as soon as Coruscant was taken. They were disappointed, just as they had been after their high hopes for a swift peace had been dashed following Endor. And even ignoring the war against the Empire and the political bickering in the Republic, there had been so many other personal crisis, personal struggles, personal disappointments and sadness...

After a second's hesitation, Han walked over and put his arms around her. Leia stiffened for a moment, lost in her self-pitying reverie. She remembered her confession of love to Han on Cloud City, and only a sardonic quip as a response. The night after the Death Star on Endor, when the universe had been filled with promises of hope and she had dreamed of spending her life with the pirate who loved her, and their would-be wedding in the Massassi Temple on Yavin following the defeat of the Prophets of the Dark Side, only for it to somehow fold at the last minute and their relationship to subsequently become strained and dragged out and, at times, almost awkward. Of everything else that had happened since then. Leia remained frozen for a second, then exhaled, and let herself melt into the embrace of her strong, warm Corellian and his comforting scent of engine oil and masculinity.

"That's it, Leia," Han said, as tenderly as he could. He so rarely said her name directly, and his hands rubbing her back in a circle spread a languid warmth through it. "Now, tell me what that song of a murglak did that upset my favorite politician."

Leia sighed once more, deeper and more despondently. "Well, with the capture of Coruscant and the redeployment of the Navy to the Rim to hunt down the remaining warlords, the military high command has been urging the Council to finally begin a program to upgrade and standardize the fleet." As Han well knew, most of the New Republic's ships were still obsolete scrap they had stolen from museums before Endor, or converted from civilian vessels, or were damaged Imperial cruisers we salvaged from the battlefield. After all, what was the most famous piece of junk ship of the entire Rebellion but the Falcon herself? "This whole month has been devoted to compiling a decade-long outline for ensuring the upgrades are all satisfactorily carried out, especially considering that we might be fighting the Empire for...longer than we had expected to."

Han squeezed her tighter in sympathy at the despondent tone in her voice, and Leia absorbed what support from it she could before continuing. "Today was the final day of the review. We had come up with a good plan the entire Council had agreed on, and it was going to be brought to a vote today, as a formality. HoloNet News was there to record it. Given its military prominence, Ackbar was chosen to formally submit the omnibus defense bill to the Council." In addition to serving as Supreme Commander of the Defense Forces, Admiral Ackbar also represented the sentient species of the Mon Calamari Sector on the Provisional Council. Han groaned. He already knew where this was going.

Leia nodded at the sound of her beau's exasperation. "Uh huh. Just before Mon Mothma could call for an end to debate, Borsk stood up and announced he had an amendment. A friendly amendment, of course, despite the fact that he had kept quiet throughout the entire process until this point." Leia's cheeks blushed red in anger, and Han could feel the heat through his shirt. Fey'lya and Ackbar were famous galaxy-wide for their rivalry, and Imperial propagandists such as the famous broadcaster, Coruscant Blueblossom, had used the rivalry to decry the inefficiencies and inherent instability of the democracy championed by the New Republic.

"Borsk's amendment was a huge act for extending healthcare for non-Humans on Coruscant using some of the funds from the defense bill. Never mind that adding something so disconnected to the military spending bill is an act so blatantly corrupt that it belongs in the Old Republic Senate, not our template for the future democracy of the galaxy. Borsk has always pushed for something like this to overcome the inequalities of medical care offered to aliens on Coruscant under the Empire. His argument was that he had no choice but to push through the healthcare bill as fast as possible to prevent millions more from dying from the Krytos virus while the Provisional Council slowly debated reform of the Coruscant Health Administration."

"Let me guess," Han butted in. He was no politician, but countless hours in hyperspace spent losing to Chewie at dejarik had given him the foresight to see what moves were in play here, and he could guess where all this was going. "Ackbar of course protested the diversion of military funds - right in front of the reporters. It gets repeated all over HNN that Ackbar takes a pro-Human stance against Borsk and his pan-species message."

"Ackbar voted against it, in the end," Leia added.

"So Ackbar is pro-Human enough to not only vote against giving Borskcare to the aliens, but against his own bill, and how can you trust someone weak on national security? And I'm sure one or two of Borsk's allies on the newsnets raised the fact that having the Supreme Commander serve on the Council is dangerously close to a military government and not the best way to build our wondrous new shining city on a planet. That about wrap it up?"

"That about does." Leia left Han's arms, shaking her head, a hand automatically moving up to adjust stray strands of her lustrous dark hair that had escaped from the bun at the back of her head, coming to rest partway down her shoulders. "I feel terrible for Ackbar. Borsk is a coward. If he had a spine, it would be me that he would be attacking."

It was well known that when the Provisional Council was dissolved and the Galactic Senate was finally reconstituted - in two years, according to the current timetable - Mon Mothma, currently the Chief Councilor, would run for President, with Leia as her Chief of State. And whenever Mon Mothma stepped down, it was the accepted knowledge that Leia, wildly popular and a romantic, inspirational, tragic - and number of adjective would suffice here - heroine to countless trillions of beings would easily succeed her. It was just as common knowledge that Borsk coveted the leadership of the free galaxy more than anything else, but would be foolish to waste political capital campaigning against Leia. Whenever Leia stepped down or resigned, the only other figure on the current political holomap that could compete with Borsk in that far-off hypothetical post-Leia galaxy was Ackbar. Therefore, to Borsk - an accomplished dejarik player himself - the key political rivalry was not him against Mon Mothma or Leia, but him against Ackbar, and that notion shaped every single activity Fey'lya committed.

"Ackbar already lost so much," Leia continued. At this, Han felt he had to intervene. The Mon Cal admiral had seen his homeworld enslaved by the Empire and had himself served as Grand Moff Tarkin's personal slave - certainly no competition with Zeltros or Hologram Fun World as a choice for a fun outing - but to Han's point of view, he thought Leia's bemoaning of Ackbar's trials was selling Alderaan's obliteration a few dataries short. And that was not something that Leia would often do. This whole Borskcare thing really must have thrown her for a loop - already, the feisty fighter's attitude had shifted from a barely-contained proton bomb explosion to maudlin and pity for self, Ackbar, and anyone else halfway worthy a good mope. And Leia was even less likely to mope than she was to forget Alderaan. Han needed a distraction for Leia, and fast.

Suddenly, the proverbial glowlamp went on over his head. "Leia, you need to get away from all this for one night. The New Republic won't collapse because you took an evening off to spend some time with a scruffy star-dog. I know just what you need to relax."

Leia smiled, the first genuinely warm, happy smile since Han had seen her this evening. "I agree. That sounds wonderful, Han. I knew you would be able to help distract me. What did you have in mind?"

Now it was Han's turn for a smile - his trademark rogue's smirk. "I think you need a night on the town."

Leia's eyes went wide momentarily, her mouth opening slightly in surprise at the suggestion. She began to blush a shade of red - the shade of embarrassment, this time, not anger. "Han, I don't think...Right now? But, but I-"

Han put his arm around her shoulders, leading her toward the set of doors that led out of the inner office. "Nonsense, Princess. The galaxy will still spin without you for a night, and now is the perfect time for you to head out, right when every politico and holoblogger in the Core Worlds will be approaching you over Borsk's latest spat."

He opened the door, to reveal Winter standing outside them. She looked innocent enough that even Han wasn't sure if he could tell if she had been listening in or not. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Leia. You look better. I knew Han would do the trick." She smiled up at the big Corellian, then turned back to Leia, reading off of the small datapad in her hand. "Leia, while you were in your office, Threkin Horm called and said he wanted to meet with you at the Alderaanian Consulate over plans for a garrison at New Alderaan. Cindel Towani from HNN wanted to know if she could schedule an interview for the next datacycle, and someone saying she's a consular representative from Kuat has been begging me to set up a meeting-"

"Winter, you'll have to call them all back and tell them that our girl is unavailable for the rest of the day." Leia, still tense, relaxed slightly against his arm, and Han knew at that moment that she would put up no more protestations.

She was his for the evening. All his.

"I see." Winter looked at Han, and then Leia, her serious features lightening with a smile that had just the barest touch of frisky approval. "I think that is a wonderful idea. I can tell that Leia needs a break, it's been far too long since she had one and even the most dedicated public servant can only take so much pressure before relief is needed. And doing so will, after all, enable her to work harder and therefore serve her constituents more efficiently, isn't that so, Your Highness?"

Leia responded with a tiny nod, followed by an even briefer, "If you say so, Winter, then it has to be true," and a smile at her childhood friend and constant companion.

Winter smiled back. "Wonderful. Now...hmm." She raised a finger to her lips, pausing in concentration, and then grinned in a fetching imitation of the patented Solo Smirk. "I suppose I can tell President Horm and the rest of your callers that the Provisional Councilor for the Alderaan Alliance is currently meeting with her closest advisors to debate the best way to build a nonpartisan, consensus-based solution to advance the common goals held by all sentients represented by the Council?"

"Winter, you could tell them that I zapped Leia with a mind-ray and kidnapped her off to my personal pleasure planet," Han joked. He reached out his hand to Leia, standing nearby, who after a second, reached out herself to hold his hand in return. "All that matters to me is that we're going to go out for a night on the town."

Leia's only additions to Han's bold assertion were to smile wanly and blush furiously. As much as she was embarrassed to be broaching this subject with her old friend, no matter how much Winter already knew - everything that she and Winter had already done together - it shamed Leia to her core to have it said in the open. And yet...

'A night on the town.' No matter how it made her feel to talk about it, about Han taking control in suggesting it...She could not lie to herself: it was exactly what she needed.

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