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“Curious—that’s exactly how I felt listening to you and General A’baht,” Leia said. “I considered it quite a concession on my part to agree to send the Fifth into those sectors at all. You might try to appreciate that a little more, and lecture me a little less.”

“Han, darling?”

Han’s face was buried in a pillow, and his answer was muffled. “Um—what?”

“I’m thinking something I don’t like thinking.”

Rolling over, Han made as polite a show of interest as he could manage half asleep. “What’s that?”

“These aren’t negotiations anymore. With Nil Spaar. All they are is conversations.”

“What do you mean?”

Leia sat up in bed. “In the beginning, I thought what I had to do was learn enough about them to find something they wanted—wanted enough to make them reconsider their position.”

“You can’t bargain with a man who doesn’t want to buy,” Han said.

“No,” said Leia. “You’re right about that. The viceroy was sent here to preserve the status quo. No trade, no cultural exchange, no technical or scientific information access, mutual agreement on borders and territories, strict border controls. To the Yevetha, only the status quo is acceptable—and the status quo is isolationism.”

“Well—that’s their choice, isn’t it?”

“But I want to bring N’zoth and Coruscant closer together. This could be the most important alliance of the last ten years—or the next fifty.”

“There’s always someone who doesn’t want to join the club,” said Han. “Sometimes to be contrary. Sometimes because they like not having to answer to anyone, follow anyone else’s rules. Independence is worth something, Leia. I knew a man on the Praff runs, name of—oh, blast, what was his name?—Hatirma Havighasu. He always worked alone. Said cooperation was for cowards.”

“How did that work for him?”

“Well—he couldn’t take the big jobs, of course. Or the ones where you’ve got to have someone to watch your back. But he was still alive when I moved on. I imagine he probably still is, tough as he was.”

Leia sighed. “Maybe that’s it,” she said. “Maybe the way the Yevetha see themselves, they have to be standing alone, owing no one anything. The viceroy hasn’t given me a single concrete reason to hope for an agreement on any terms but his—except for the fact that he comes back day after day.”

“Then why continue?” Han said, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see her better in the dimly lit room. “It’s been eating up your time and stealing your energy for two months now.”

“Because Nil Spaar’s not like that,” said Leia. “He’s reasonable, even though the League isn’t ready to be. He’s even friendly at times, even though the League doesn’t want to be. Right now, the only thread that connects the League and the Republic is our personal relationship.”

“Pretty thin thread, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. The viceroy is more open-minded than whoever wrote his orders. I have a very clear sense that he wants me to succeed—he’s trying to give me time. He hopes I’ll find a way to bring us together.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying one more time to win your argument with Luke?”

“What do you mean?”

“If the Yevetha want to hide away out there like so many hermits, I’m not sure why they should care how we feel about it,” Han said, shrugging. “Unless you’re thinking about twisting arms. Which you probably could, this time.”

“I’m not thinking about any such thing,” Leia said tersely. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why it matters so much to you to make something happen when this business with the viceroy is obviously going nowhere,” Han said defensively.

“Maybe that’s why,” Leia said, looking down at her hands. “Maybe because I’m the only one in that room with him. No one else can do this but me.” She hesitated. “Maybe some little part of me is still trying to prove that I belong here.”

“No one questions that.”

“That’s kind, Han, but it’s not true. It’d be no trouble at all to make you a list of a hundred senators who’d be delighted to see me go.”

“Well—you can’t please everyone.