The Millennium Falcon lifted off from the landing pad. The antigravs roared like a flock of frightened banthas, and Han Solo once again promised himself that he would put the ship in order. Some day.
Now the Falcon was flying properly and could carry out the missions assigned to it. The only question was whether the one who controlled the ship could cope with them.
"Yes, I know, I know," Han said, hearing the roar of the Wookiee sitting next to him. "The hydraulics are acting up again. We'll fix it when we get back to Coruscant."
Chewbacca made a series of guttural noises again.
"No, this time for sure," Han assured him, knowing he was once again playing with words. After all, how long had he promised to fix the ship? A hundred times already. And that's just for this month. "If there is time."
The Wookiee shook his head disapprovingly.
"The main thing now is to understand what's going on," Solo said thoughtfully, almost automatically guiding the ship to the upper layers of the atmosphere.
** Han Solo and Chewbacca **
Even though he told his former smuggler friends that his general's shoulder straps had long been in the trash heap, this was not true. Not exactly.
Han could lie as much as he wanted, but the fact remained that he was on a mission for the New Republic. He was looking for those who would agree to re-start interstellar trade, which had largely thinned out over the past five and a half years. And this was practically a crisis for the new government that had settled on Coruscant. If there was no transportation, there would be no supplies, hunger and discontent would begin...
Although he was more than sure that what the New Republic government was most worried about was the lack of taxes. The budget was torn as Palpatine tried to destroy the Rebel Alliance. There was not enough money. But it was necessary to establish life in the galaxy.
And repair ships that, no, no, but continued to fight with the imperial underdogs...
"You know, Chewie," he said. "It seems to me that our old friend, whom we asked to inform the smugglers of a proposal for legal trade, really believes that the Empire has another grand admiral somewhere."
Chewbacca voiced his opinion gutturally.
"Yes, I know that we gave them a good whack," Han shook his head. "Really, it turned out funny in Obroa-skai. A Star Destroyer fleeing from four frigates and a squadron of X-wings... Oh, if the Imperials had known that all the Nebulons were almost falling apart from the load on the engines, I bet they wouldn't have crashed..."
The Wookiee howled softly.
"What's the plan?" Solo waved him off. "Who is capable of planning anything there? They sit there in their sectors and survive on the crumbs that they got. Kuat is ours, almost all the Core Worlds and up to the Middle Rim—all significant systems are under the control of the New Republic. The Imperials should sit and not glare, but it would be better to think about peace in general, and not rattle weapons. Look, they wouldn't take away the remnants of their territories," Han laughed. But the grin disappeared from his face. Chewbacca looked at his friend, growling questioningly.
"Yes, Chewie," Solo agreed. "It looks like I'm calming myself down. You can talk as much as you like about how we are stronger, our soldiers are better trained, and in general we destroyed almost all of their grand admirals, but the fact remains a fact. Smugglers don't want to meddle in our sectors, preferring to work for the Remnant. Maybe if you meet Talon Karrde and talk to him directly? It seems like he is in charge of everything now..."
Chewbacca growled as he thought about his friend's idea. And his opinion was not at all positive.
"What else should we do, Chewie?" Han asked a rhetorical question. "Without freighters and transportation, the New Republic will not survive for several years. If Ackbar and the Provisional Council don't come up with something soon, consider us dead. The Empire will take us warm. They won't even have to fight—they will use their auxiliary ships to provide goods to the sectors, and they will change their preferences again... Yes, friend," he agreed with the words of his hairy comrade. "The New Republic is in yet another crisis. If our house of cards is shaken enough, it will collapse. Let's hope that there are no longer those in the Empire who can pull this off."