Star Wars_ X-Wing 07_ Solo Command - Aaron Allston [181]
The counter went to zero, and he eased the levers forward. Outside the Falcon’s canopy, the mottled sky of hyperspace turned to starlines, which collapsed into stars, and they were there. “Right on target,” he commented, nodding toward the bluish-red planetary half circle ahead of them.
Beside him, Chewbacca growled. “Yeah, well, it’s always crowded around Iphigin,” Han said, eyeing the hundreds of tiny drive glows moving around the planet like some crazy multrille dance. “Main transfer point for this sector and at least two others. Probably why Puffers set up the meeting for here—you don’t start shooting if some of your own stuff might get in the way.”
Chewbacca growled in annoyance. “Well, excuse me,” Han apologized sarcastically. “President Gavrisom, then. Didn’t know you were such a big fan.”
There was a beep from the comm. Slapping a massive hand at the switch, Chewbacca roared out an acknowledgment.
“Hey, Chewie,” Luke Skywalker’s voice came over the speaker. “You’re right on schedule. The Falcon must be running smoothly for a change.”
“Nothing broken but the comm switch,” Han grumbled, throwing a scowl at the Wookiee. “Chewie just tried to flatten it. Where are you, Luke?”
“Just coming in nightside,” Luke said. “What’s wrong with Chewie?”
“Nothing much,” Han said. “Small difference of political opinion, that’s all.”
“Ah,” Luke said knowingly. “Been calling President Gavrisom ‘Puffers’ again, have you?”
“Now, don’t you start,” Han growled, glaring at the comm speaker.
Chewbacca rumbled a question. “Well, for one thing, he never seems to do anything except talk,” Han said.
“That’s what Calibops are best at,” Luke pointed out. “Face it, Han: words are the tool of the task these days.”
“I know, I know,” Han said, making a face. “Leia’s been pounding it into me forever.” His voice drifted into an almost unconscious parody of his wife’s. “We’re not the Rebel Alliance anymore, with a handful of people running the whole show. We’re negotiators and arbitrators and we’re here to help system and sector governments be all nice and friendly to each other.”
“Is that really the way Leia put it?”
“So I paraphrased a little.” Han frowned out the Falcon’s canopy, glanced back at his displays. “Is that you in the X-wing?”
“That’s me,” Luke confirmed. “Why? You think I’ve forgotten how to fly one?”
“No, I just thought you usually used one of the academy’s Lambda shuttles these days.”
“That’s because I’m usually flying with other people,” Luke said. “Students and such. Artoo was with me on Yavin doing some data sifting, so when your call came we just hopped in the old snubfighter and headed out. What’s this all about?”
“What’s it always about at this end of the Core?” Han countered sourly. “The Diamala and Ishori are at it again.”
Luke sighed, a faint hiss on the speaker. “Let me guess. Commerce and resource-sharing dispute?”
“Close,” Han said. “This time it’s shipping security. The Diamala don’t like having to rely on local patrol ships when they’re coming into Ishori ports. The Ishori, on the other hand, don’t want armed Diamala ships coming into their systems.”
“Sounds typical,” Luke said. “Gavrisom have any ideas on how to solve this one?”
“If he did, he didn’t mention them,” Han said. “He just called me on Wayland and said to flare it on over here. Help them be all nice and friendly to each other, I guess.”
“Gavrisom asked you to arbitrate?”
Han pursed his lips. “Well … not exactly. He kind of thinks Leia’s here with us.”
“Ah.”
“Look, Luke, I am official liaison to the Independent Shippers Association,” Han reminded him testily. “It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing before. And Leia hasn’t had any kind of real vacation in a long time—she and the kids need some time off together. And just for once, I’m not going to let her get dragged away on some stupid diplomatic thing, especially when she’s supposed to be on a leave of absence. She deserves better.