“Beside the point?” Han demanded. “Look, Councilor, if there’s a Grand Admiral running around loose—”
“If there is,” Mon Mothma interrupted firmly, “we’ll soon know for certain. Until then, there seems little value in holding a debate in a vacuum. Council Research is hereby directed to look into the possibility that a Grand Admiral might still be alive. Until such an investigation has been completed, we will continue with our current inquiry into the circumstances of the Sluis Van attack.” She looked at Han, then turned and nodded at Leia. “Councilor Organa Solo, you may begin the questioning.”
Admiral Ackbar’s high-domed, salmon-colored head bent slightly to the side, his huge round eyes swiveling in their sockets in a Calamarian gesture Leia couldn’t recall ever having seen before. Surprise? Or was it perhaps dread?
“A Grand Admiral,” Ackbar said at last, his voice sounding even more gravelly than usual. “An Imperial Grand Admiral. Yes. That would indeed explain a great many things.”
“We don’t actually know that it’s a real Grand Admiral yet,” Leia cautioned him, throwing a glance at the stony look on her husband’s face. Han, clearly, had no doubts of his own. Neither did she, for that matter. “Mon Mothma’s having Research look into it.”
“They won’t find anything,” Ackbar said, shaking his head. A more human gesture, that, of the sort he usually tried to use when dealing with humans. Good; that meant he was getting back on balance. “I had a thorough search made of the Imperial records when we first took Coruscant back from the Empire. There’s nothing in there but a list of the Grand Admirals’ names and a little about their assignments.”
“Erased before they pulled out,” Han growled.
“Or perhaps never there to begin with,” Leia suggested. “Remember that these weren’t just the best and brightest military leaders the Emperor could find. They were also part of his plan to bring the Imperial military more personally under his control.”
“As was the Death Star project itself,” Ackbar said. “I agree, Councilor. Until the Grand Admirals were fully integrated both militarily and politically, there was no reason to publish details of their identities. And every reason to conceal them.”
“So,” Han said. “Dead end.”
“It appears that way,” Ackbar agreed. “Any information we’re going to get will have to come from current sources.”
Leia looked at Han. “You mentioned you were with a contact when you saw this Grand Admiral, but you didn’t give us the contact’s name.”
“That’s right,” Han nodded. “I didn’t. And I’m not going to. Not now, anyway.”
Leia frowned at that unreadable sabacc face, stretching out with all her rudimentary Jedi skills to try to sense his purpose and feelings. It didn’t get her very far. If only I had more time to practice, she thought ruefully. But if the Council had needed all her time before, it was going to need even more than that now. “Mon Mothma’s going to want to know, eventually,” she warned him.
“And I’m going to tell her, eventually,” he came back. “Until then, it’s going to be our little secret.”
“As in ‘leverage’?”
“You never can tell.” A shadow of something crossed Han’s face. “The name’s not going to do the Council any good right now, anyway. The whole group’s probably buried themselves away somewhere. If the Empire hasn’t caught up with them.”
“You don’t know how to find them?” Leia asked.
Han shrugged. “There’s a ship I promised to get out of impoundment for them. I can try that.”
“Do what you can,” Ackbar said. “You said Councilor Organa Solo’s brother was with you at Sluis Van?”
“Yes, sir,” Han said. “His hyperdrive needed some repairs, but he should’ve only been a couple of hours behind me.” He looked at Leia. “Oh, and we’re going to have to get Lando’s ship back to him at Sluis Van.”
Ackbar made a noise that sounded something like a choked whistle: the Calamarian equivalent of a grunt. “We’ll need to hear testimony from both of them,” he said. “And from Wing Commander Antilles, as well. It’s vital that we learn how the Empire was able to smuggle such a large force past so many sensors.”
Leia threw Han a look. “According to Wedge’s preliminary report, they apparently were inside a freighter whose hold registered empty.”
Ackbar’s eyes swiveled in their sockets. “Empty? Not merely unreadable, as if from a sensor misfire or static-damping?”
“Wedge said it was empty,” Han told him. “He ought to know the difference between that and static-damping.”
“Empty.” Ackbar seemed to slump a little in his seat. “Which can only mean the Empire has finally developed a workable cloaking shield.”
“It’s starring to look that way,” Leia agreed soberly. “I suppose the only good news is that they must still have some bugs left in the system. Otherwise, they could have simply cloaked the whole Sluis Van task force and torn the place to ribbons.”
“No,” Ackbar said, shaking his massive head. “That’s something we won’t have to worry about, at least. By its very nature a cloaking shield would be more danger to the user than it was worth. A cloaked warship’s own sensor beams would be as useless as those of its enemies, leaving it to flail about totally blind. Worse, if it were under power, the enemy could locate it by simply tracking its drive emissions.”
“Ah,” Leia said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“There have been rumors for years that the Emperor was developing a cloaking shield,” Ackbar said. “I’ve put a good deal of thought into the contingency.” He harrumphed. “But the weaknesses are of small comfort. A cloaking shield in the hands of a Grand Admiral would still be a dangerous weapon indeed. He would find ways to use it against us.”
“He already has,” Han muttered.
“Apparently so.” Ackbar’s swiveling eyes locked onto Leia’s face. “You must get me cleared of this ridiculous charge, Councilor. As soon as possible. For all his ambition and self-confidence, Councilor Fey’lya hasn’t the tactical skills we need against a threat of this magnitude.”
“We’ll get you released, Admiral,” Leia promised, wishing she felt that confident. “We’re working on it right now.”
There was a diffident knock, and behind Leia the door opened. “Excuse me,” the squat G-2RD droid said in a mechanically resonant voice. “Your time has expired.”
“Thank you,” Leia said, suppressing her frustration as she stood up. She wanted desperately to have more time with Ackbar, to explore with him both this new Imperial threat and also discuss the legal strategies they might use in his defense. But arguing with the droid would gain her nothing, and might get her visiting privileges revoked entirely. Guard droids were allowed that land of discretion, and the 2RD series in particular was reputed to be a touchy lot. “I’ll be back soon, Admiral,” she told Ackbar. “Either this afternoon or tomorrow.”
“Good-bye, Councilor.” There was just a brief hesitation—“And to you, Captain Solo. Thank you for coming.”
“Good-bye, Admiral,” Han said.
They stepped from the room and started down the wide corridor, the G-2RD taking up position at the door behind them. “That must have hurt,” Han commented.
“What must have?” Leia asked.
“Thanking me for coming.”
She frowned up at him, but there was nothing but seriousness in his face. “Oh, come on, Han. Just because you resigned your commission—”
“He considers me one step up from a complete traitor,” Han finished for her.
An obvious retort about persecution complexes flashed through Leia’s mind. “Ackbar’s never been what you’d call an outgoing person,” she said instead.
Han shook his head. “I’m not imagining it, Leia. Ask Lando sometime—he gets the same kind of treatment. You leave the military and you might as well be tauntaun spit as far as Ackbar is concerned.”
Leia sighed. “You have to understand the Mon Calamari ethos, Han. They were never a warlike species at all until the Empire started enslaving them and ravaging their world. Those wonderful Star Cruisers of theirs were originally passenger liners, you know, that we helped them convert into warships. Maybe it’s not so much anger at you for quitting as it is some sort of residual guilt at himself and his people for taking up warfare in the first place.”
“Even if they were forced into it?”
Leia shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t think anyone ever goes into a war without the nagging feeling that there might have been some other way. Even when every other way has already been tried and hasn’t worked. I know I felt it when I first joined the Rebellion—and believe me, people like Mon Mothma and Bail Organa had tried everything. For an inherently peaceful race like the Mon Calamari, the feeling must be even worse.”
“Well … maybe,” Han conceded grudgingly. “I just wish they’d work it through for themselves and leave the rest of us out of it.”
“They are,” Leia assured him. “We’ve just got to give them time.”