“I’m still good, thanks,” Lando said before Bel Iblis could offer him one.
Han frowned across the table at his friend. Lando was sitting stiffly in his lounge chair, his face impassive, his glass still half full. His first glass, Han realized suddenly—Lando hadn’t had a refill in the hour and a half since Bel Iblis had brought them here. He caught Lando’s eye, raised his eyebrows fractionally. Lando looked back, his expression still stony, then dropped his gaze and took a small sip of his drink.
“It was about a month after Tangrene,” Bel Iblis went on, “that we first met Borsk Fey’lya.”
Han turned back to him, feeling a twitch of guilt. He’d gotten so wrapped up in Bel Iblis’s storytelling that he’d completely forgotten why he and Lando had set off on this mission in the first place. Probably that was what had Lando glaring crushed ice in his direction. “Yeah—Fey’lya,” he said. “What’s your deal with him?”
“Considerably less of a deal than he’d like, I assure you,” Bel Iblis said. “Fey’lya did us some favors during the height of the war years, and he seems to think we should be more grateful for them.”
“What sort of favors?” Lando asked.
“Small ones,” Bel Iblis told him. “Early on he helped us set up a supply line through New Cov, and he whistled up some Star Cruisers once when the Imperials started nosing around the system at an awkward moment. He and some of the other Bothans also shifted various funds to us, which enabled us to buy equipment sooner than we otherwise would have. That sort of thing.”
“So how grateful are you?” Lando persisted.
Bel Iblis smiled slightly. “Or in other words, what exactly does Fey’lya want from me?”
Lando didn’t smile back. “That’ll do for starters,” he agreed.
“Lando,” Han said warningly.
“No, that’s all right,” Bel Iblis said, his own smile fading. “Before I answer, though, I’d like you to tell me a little about the New Republic hierarchy. Mon Mothma’s position in-the new government, Fey’lya’s relationship to her—that sort of thing.”
Han shrugged. “That’s pretty much public record.”
“That’s the official version,” Bel Iblis said. “I’m asking what things are really like.”
Han glanced over at Lando. “I don’t understand,” he said.
Bel Iblis took a swallow of his Twistler. “Well, then, let me be more direct,” he said, studying the liquid in his glass. “What’s Mon Mothma really up to?”
Han felt a trickle of anger in his throat. “Is that what Breil’lya told you?” he demanded. “That she’s up to something?”
Bel Iblis raised his eyes over the rim of his glass. “This has nothing to do with the Bothans,” he said quietly. “It’s about Mon Mothma. Period.”
Han looked back at him, forcing down his confusion as he tried to collect his thoughts. There were things he didn’t like about Mon Mothma—a lot of things, when you came right down to it. Starting with the way she kept running Leia off her feet doing diplomacy stuff instead of letting her concentrate on her Jedi training. And there were other things, too, that drove him crazy. But when you came right down to it … “As far as I know,” he told Bel Iblis evenly, “the only thing she’s trying to do is put together a new government.”
“With herself at its head?”
“Shouldn’t she be?”
A shadow of something seemed to cross Bel Iblis’s face, and he dropped his eyes to his glass again. “I suppose it was inevitable,” he murmured. For a moment he was silent. Then he looked up again, seeming to shake himself out of the mood. “So you’d say that you’re becoming a republic in fact as well as in name?”
“I’d say that, yes,” Han nodded. “What does this have to do with Fey’lya?”
Bel Iblis shrugged. “It’s Fey’lya’s belief that Mon Mothma wields altogether too much power,” he said. “I presume you’d disagree with that assessment?”
Han hesitated. “I don’t know,” he conceded. “But she sure isn’t running the whole show, like she did during the war.”
“The war’s still going on,” Bel Iblis reminded him.
“Yeah. Well …”
“What does Fey’lya think ought to be done about it?” Lando spoke up.
Bel Iblis’s lip twitched. “Oh, Fey’lya has some rather personal and highly unsurprising ideas about the reapportionment of power. But that’s Bothans for you. Give them a sniff of the soup pot and they climb all over each other to be in charge of the ladle.”
“Especially when they can claim to have been valued allies of the winning side,” Lando said. “Unlike others I could mention.”
Sena stirred in her seat; but before she could say anything, Bel Iblis waved a hand at her. “You’re wondering why I didn’t join the Alliance,” he said calmly. “Why I chose instead to run my own private war against the Empire.”
“That’s right,” Lando said, matching his tone. “I am.”
Bel Iblis gave him a long, measuring look. “I could give you several reasons why I felt it was better for us to remain independent,” he said at last. “Security, for one. There was a great deal of communication going on between various units of the Alliance, with a correspondingly large potential for interception of that information by the Empire. For a while it seemed like every fifth Rebel base was being lost to the Imperials through sheer sloppiness in security.”
“We had some problems,” Han conceded. “But they’ve been pretty well fixed.”
“Have they?” Bel Iblis countered. “What about this information leak I understand you have right in the Imperial Palace?”
“Yeah, we know it’s there,” Han said, feeling strangely like a kid who’s been called on the carpet for not finishing his homework. “We’ve got people looking into it.”
“They’d better do more than just look,” Bel Iblis warned. “If our analysis of Imperial communiqués is correct, this leak has its own name—Delta Source—and is furthermore reporting personally to the Grand Admiral.”
“Okay,” Lando said. “Security. Let’s hear some of the other reasons.”
“Ease off, Lando,” Han said, glaring across the table at his friend. “This isn’t a trial, or—”
He broke off at a gesture from Bel Iblis. “Thank you, Solo, but I’m quite capable of defending my own actions,” the Senator said. “And I’ll be more than happy to do so … when I feel the time is right for such a discussion.”
He looked at Lando, then at his watch. “But right now; I have other duties to attend to. It’s getting late, and I know you really haven’t had time to relax since landing. Irenez has had your baggage taken to a vacant officers’ efficiency back toward the landing pad. It’s small, I’m afraid, but I trust you’ll find it comfortable enough.” He stood up. “Perhaps later over dinner we can continue this discussion.”
Han looked at Lando. Such convenient timing, the other’s expression said; but he kept the thought to himself. “Sounds fine,” Han told Bel Iblis for both of them.
“Good,” Bel Iblis smiled. “I’ll need Sena with me, but we’ll point you in the direction of your quarters on our way out. Unless you’d rather I assign you a guide.”
“We can find it,” Han assured him.
“All right. Someone will come to get you for dinner. Until later, then.”
They walked in silence for probably half the distance to their quarters before Lando finally spoke. “You want to go ahead and get it over with?”
“Get what over with?” Han growled.
“Chewing me out for not bowing and scraping in front of your pal the Senator,” Lando said. “Do it and get it over with, because we have to talk.”
Han kept his eyes straight ahead. “You weren’t just not bowing and scraping, pal,” he bit out. “I’ve seen Chewie in a bad mood be more polite than you were back there.”
“You’re right,” Lando acknowledged. “You want to be mad a little longer, or are you ready to hear my reasons?”
“Oh, this should be interesting,” Han said sarcastically. “You’ve got a good reason to be rude to a former Imperial Senator, huh?”
“He’s not telling us the truth, Han,” Lando said earnestly. “Not the whole truth, anyway.”
“So?” Han said. “Who says he has to tell strangers everything?”
“He brought us here,” Lando countered. “Why do that and then lie to us about it?”
Han frowned sideways at his friend … and through his annoyance he saw for the first time the tension lines in Lando’s face. Whatever Lando was reaching for here, he was serious about it. “Okay,” he said, a little more calmly. “What did he lie about?”
“This camp, for starters,” Lando said, gesturing toward the nearest building. “The Senator said they move around a lot—fourteen sites in seven years, remember? But this place has been here a lot longer than half a year.”