Tigris rushed through the crowd, heedless of giving offense, trying to catch up to the end of the marching Proctors. His lord walked quickly. A path opened before Lord Hethrir. But Tigris had to edge through. He did his best not to run into anyone else. He wished Lord Hethrir were unaware of his moment of distraction, his fascination with the material things being offered to him at the entryway.
Especially the white robe.
He knows what’s happening behind him, Tigris thought. He always knows.
He labored after Hethrir, Anakin growing heavier and heavier in his arms. Hethrir never looked back.
The children ate with desperate appetite. It broke Leia’s heart to watch them. She sat in the dining hall with Jaina and Jacen, unable to eat anything herself. She cautioned the children not to eat too quickly, or too much. She feared that nevertheless there would be upset stomachs tonight.
“I want to go home,” said one of the little ones. “I want to go home!” Soon all the children were clamoring for their homes, their families.
Leia knew exactly how they felt.
As Leia calmed the children, Rillao entered the dining hall.
“We’ll take you home soon,” Leia said. “I promise. For now, a nice hot bath and a nice warm bed. How does that sound?”
She saw a few trembly lips and teary eyes; they wanted to go home now and Leia did not blame them.
She only hoped their families could be found. Had Hethrir murdered their families in order to steal them? Were they all from the passenger freighters? Or—were their families the people Winter had gone to meet, who thought their children had run away?
Rillao perched on the bench beside Jaina.
“The worldcraft will enter hyperspace soon,” Rillao said softly to Leia. “Before morning, we’ll reach Asylum Station.”
Hethrir strode into a lodge in a quiet park. The only sound was the ripple and splash of the water in the pools and streams of the lobby. Tigris followed. Anakin wriggled to get down. Tigris let him free, gratefully, then had to hurry after him as the little boy headed straight for the irresistible ponds. He crouched down and splashed at the edge of a still circle of water, patting the surface to spread ripples.
“My lord.” The rainbow whirlwind wavered into view, hovering above one of the streams. “All is ready for you.”
“Have my guests arrived?” Hethrir asked.
“Yes, my lord,” the whirlwind host replied. “They will gather to meet you when—”
A purple humanoid droid clattered into the lobby.
“I simply do not understand,” the purple droid said, “why you’re being so disagreeable about this situation.”
The purple droid followed a service droid, gesturing as he spoke. The service droid’s large carrying surface bore a couple of small valises, a scattering of opened and unopened emergency ration packs, and a battered bunch of ugly flowers without a vase.
The carrying droid rumbled a reply comprehensible only in its indifference.
“Halt!” said the host. Its rainbow colors brightened in a threatening manner.
The service droid lurched to a halt. The ugly flowers scattered on the floor.
“What do you mean, performing an eviction through the front door?”
“This is quite absurd!” the purple droid said. “We are no more than hours late with the rent. My human companions will return soon and pay you! They are very busy people!”
The service droid snatched up the spilled flowers with its pincers, breaking the stems and littering the floor with crushed petals. The petals oozed pale fluid. Lord Hethrir watched without expression. The Proctors stood in perfect array, but the droid’s distress amused them.
“Mr. Threep!” Anakin shouted. He ran to the purple droid, bouncing with excitement. Tigris bolted after him but could not keep him from fastening his arms around the strange droid’s leg.
“Master Anakin?” the droid said. “Master Anakin! Whatever are you doing here? Where are your brother and sister? Where is Prin—your mother?”
“Bring the child back,” Hethrir said.
“Who are you, sir?” the droid asked Hethrir. “I have not been instructed that you are permitted to attend Master Anakin!”
“You have mistaken this child for someone else. You are in error. Perhaps you need your brain circuits wiped.”
Tigris hurried to Anakin and managed to pry his little hands from the droid’s knee. The droid tried to interfere, but Tigris fended him off. Anakin shrieked wildly. He kicked at Tigris’s shins.
“Ow!” Tigris said. “Don’t, Anakin, come away, leave the Mr. Droid alone. Your pardon, sir.”
“Who are you, young sir? What are you doing with Master Anakin?”
As soon as Tigris freed Anakin from the droid’s legs, Lord Hethrir strode past him, drawing his lightsaber.
The lightsaber flamed wildly. Its energy blade arced through the droid’s head and body. The handle back-flashed. Sparks pierced the air, searing it into ozone. Lord Hethrir shouted a curse—his high-pitched shout startled Tigris even more than the failure of the lightsaber—and dropped the handle. The blade seared a fissure into the smooth flagstone, flashed to brilliance, and faded.
Tigris had never seen anything like it.
The droid, frozen in place, toppled onto the stone floor with a great metallic clank. He shivered violently, then fell quiet. Purple paint flaked from him, revealing patchy bits of gold.
Anakin screamed and struggled. “Mr. Threep! Mr. Threep!”
Tigris scooped him up and held him, despite his crying and kicking.
“It’s all right, little one,” he whispered. “Shh, shh.”
Confused and angry and exhausted after the long trip and the long confinement, Anakin lapsed into frustrated sobs.
“Fetch my lightsaber,” Hethrir said to Tigris.
Frightened but resolute, Tigris bent down awkwardly, holding Anakin in one arm, and picked up the pommel of the lightsaber. He was sure it would explode; instead, it felt dead in his hand. He offered it to Lord Hethrir, but the Lord ignored him.
“I do beg your pardon for this unforgivable disturbance,” the whirlwind host said to Lord Hethrir. “The droid clearly has twisted circuits. It already tried to defraud me!”
“Secure the droid,” Hethrir said. “It’s dangerous. Later perhaps we will wipe it and recycle it.”
“Very well, my lord,” the whirlwind said.
The service droid wrestled the collapsed droid onto its carrying surface and rolled away into the shadows.
Anakin stared at the service droid, and at the comatose purple and gold droid, with wide, frightened eyes.
“Mr. Threep,” he whispered.
Lord Hethrir put one hand on his forehead and gazed down at him.
“It can’t be of use to you, little one,” he said. “We’re the ones who will take care of you.”
In the Proctors’ large, airy dormitory, Leia and her comrades moved the beds together to form a sleeping platform big enough for all the children. The cupboards held extra blankets and comforters, enough for everyone to be toasty warm even with the windows open.
Rillao and Artoo-Detoo went to handle the worldship’s controls during the entrance into hyperspace, while Chewbacca and Leia tucked the children in. Jaina and Jacen sat on the sleeping platform but did not get under the covers.
“I want to stay with you, Mama,” Jaina whispered. “Me, too,” Jacen said.
“You aren’t too sleepy?”
Jacen shook his head. Jaina yawned.
“I have to go over to Alderaan,” Leia said. “Would you like to come with me, and sleep in my cabin?”
Both twins nodded energetically.
“The ground is going to shake,” Leia said to all the children. “Just for a little while. It means the worldcraft is moving. There’s nothing to be scared of. Chewbacca will be right here with you.”
The children snuggled contentedly under their blankets.
Chewbacca crooned a cradle song fr
om his homeworld. As Leia left the dormitory with Jaina and Jacen, several of the little ones climbed out of bed and scampered to the Wookiee, to cuddle against his brindled fur. He put his arms around them all, and continued his wordless song.
Leia smiled. Children took to Chewbacca instantly.
Leia took Jaina and Jacen to her cabin and tucked them into her bunk and sat with them. Jacen’s four-winged bat fluttered up to the ceiling, landed against the wall, and clung there.
Alderaan shuddered beneath them. The worldcraft and its tiny sun pulled at each other, accelerating, and the ground quaked and rumbled.
Jaina sat up, excited, and Jacen patted the bulkhead beside him.
“It’s like taking off!” Jaina said.
“Exactly like,” Leia said.
The worldcraft transited into hyperspace. The shuddering stopped. Jaina wriggled back down under the covers.
“We’re going to rescue Anakin, aren’t we?” she asked. “And Lusa—before they cut off her horns!”
“Yes,” Leia said, hoping she was telling the truth. Now that they were in hyperspace, she looked and listened for Anakin. She could find no trace of him.
“I missed you so much, Mama!” Jaina said, holding her hand.
“I missed you, too, my darling. Do you know I followed you through hyperspace? I could feel you calling to me. I almost lost you—but then I heard you again.”
Jaina flung herself into Leia’s arms. “Every time we tried to use the Force, Hethrir stopped us! We tried to use the barrier! To protect Anakin. But he stopped us! I know I wasn’t supposed to do anything else, without Uncle Luke, but I thought—we tried—he’s still stopping us, but we could do little things—”
“It’s all right, Jaina. It’s all right. I’m so proud of you both.”
She tucked them in, pulling a warm blanket up around them.
“Mama?” Jaina asked.
“Yes, sweetie.”
“Can you make him stop?”
“Make who stop? Stop what?”
“Jaina and I can’t hear each other,” Jacen said, “like Uncle Luke taught us.”
Leia frowned with concern.
“Sweetheart, why not?”
“Because Hethrir won’t let us!”
“But he isn’t here, darlings. He’s nowhere near, he can’t touch you.”
Both children stared at her, wanting to believe her but afraid.
“He still can,” Jaina whispered.
Leia closed her eyes and opened herself to the widest range of her perceptions.
She found nothing. She reached, as far as she could. She could feel her children’s fear, she could feel what they had experienced while Hethrir controlled them. Her heart trembled, near breaking.
“He isn’t here,” she said again. “You’re safe now.”
Jaina and Jacen hugged each other. The glimmer of their barrier shone around them, then vanished like a spark, beneath the waterfall of their fear. Hethrir was gone, but he had left behind him such fear that Leia could not touch it.
Leia scooped her children up and hugged them. Jaina and Jacen held her desperately tight.
Rillao ran into the cabin, her hair flying and her eyes wide.
“What are you doing? Who are you? Who—” She stared at the children, then turned her gaze to Leia. “You are Jedi,” she said.
Leia shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’m untrained, the children are just beginning their training—How did you know?”
“You just gave me the worst headache I have ever suffered in my life.”
“Make Hethrir go away, Mama,” Jacen said.
“He’s gone, dear one. He can’t touch you now.”
But Jaina and Jacen stared at her, unable to believe Hethrir had no distant control over them.
Rillao sat on the bed beside Leia and her children. With the tip of her finger, she stroked Jaina’s hair, then Jacen’s, delicately. They both looked up, wide-eyed, frightened and fascinated.
“Your mama is right,” Rillao said. “Hethrir has no power to touch you anymore.”
Rillao spoke softly. As she spoke, as she stroked the children’s hair, the strands of terror within Jaina and Jacen disappeared beneath her touch.
Leia watched, astonished.
“Better, now?” Rillao asked.
Jaina and Jacen hesitated for a moment, as if they had been shut away from sunlight for so long that they could not believe its return. Then Jaina laughed aloud and Jacen smiled. They leaped up. They grabbed hands and spun around and around; they grabbed Leia’s hand, and Rillao’s, and drew them into their circle. The children’s barrier spiraled up around them all like a glowing whirlwind. Their laughter filled the room.
They fell down, deliberately, laughing and giggling. Leia fell down beside them and hugged them.
Rillao sat on her heels nearby, watching, with a silent smile.
“Thank you, thank you!” Jaina cried. Jacen watched Rillao gravely. “Yes, thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” Rillao turned to Leia. “We must speak.”
“Yes. We must.” Leia gathered up the twins. “You’re getting so big!” she said. She put them back into her bunk and tucked them in again. They were exhausted, but calm. She kissed them and sat beside them. In a moment they had fallen asleep.
Rillao had left the cabin. Leia found her in the copilot’s chair, staring out the forward port, into the worldcraft’s sky, her face illuminated by the lights of hyperspace.
“Who are you?” Leia asked. “You’re a Jedi, aren’t you? A real Jedi Knight.”
“I was,” Rillao whispered.
Leia sat in the pilot’s chair and turned toward the Firrerreo.
“Tell me.”
“I was a student … of Lord Vader.”
“But—” Leia protested.
Rillao stopped her with a gesture. “He taught us in secret. Even after the Empire declared our people subhuman, and destroyed us, he kept me … and one other.”
“And when the Empire fell, you both fled.” Leia spoke coolly, holding herself under tight control so she would not reveal her horror. Rillao, a pawn of the Empire?
“It is not quite that simple,” Rillao said. “When we were young, just beginning our studies, we both … we fell in love.
“Lord Vader believed we would produce a child with extraordinary talent, one he could bend to the use of the Empire.”
“And … did you?” Leia asked. She thought, This could be the cause of the rumors Luke is investigating. What is my brother facing?
A youth as talented as Anakin, trained by my father, Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith …
She shivered.
Rillao smiled gently. “We produced a child. An ordinary, sweet child. Tigris … I was so happy when I realized he had no talent for the Force.”
“Happy!” Leia exclaimed, simultaneously shocked and relieved.
“Even before our child, I became … a disappointing student to Lord Vader.”
“But you’re extraordinarily talented,” Leia said. “How could you be disappointing?”
“Can’t you guess, my friend?” She smiled, fiercely this time, showing the sharp tips of her unusually prominent canine teeth.
Leia waited.
“I was not tempted to the dark side,” Rillao said. “It repelled me. I had no desire for power over other people. I could not understand Lord Vader’s compulsion to gain it, any more than he could understand my desire to escape it.”
“At the end of his life,” Leia said, “he would have understood.”
“Then perhaps he found peace. I am glad. But when I knew him, he was driven. He had no patience for my weaknesses. Lelila, I am possessed of a gift. I can heal, and strengthen, and soothe.”
“As you healed and soothed my children,” Leia said.
Rillao nodded. “Lord Vader forbade me to exercise my healing talents. In turn, I resisted his instruction. Both Lord Vader and my lover found me undependable.”
Her qui
et breathing deepened, and she closed her eyes.
“I could not bear it,” she said. “Lord Vader treated me with scorn. My lover … ceased to love me. His feelings for me did not vanish. I could have borne that. I could have borne hatred in place of love. But contempt …”
She paused for so long Leia was afraid she would not—could not—complete her story. Leia placed her hand gently over Rillao’s.
“What happened?”
“Lord Vader appointed my lover—you understand that he is the one whose name I spoke to you, you understand that he is Hethrir?—Procurator of Justice. He charged him with the destruction of our world, and the abduction of a freighter full of our people.”
“Your own world! His own people! How—” But she knew how. It was not even rare.
“He did it to prove his loyalty, his loyalty above all to the Empire. He thought, if he proved himself, the Empire would declare him human after all.” She laughed bitterly. “I wondered, after our world died, why anyone would want to be considered human.”
Leia nodded. After the destruction of Alderaan, she had wondered the same thing.
“Before our child was born, I fled. After the child came, I hid us on the smallest, meekest, most backward worlds. Lord Vader had great hopes for my son, and I feared what he might do when he discovered my son could not fulfill his ambitions.”
“Neither could his own,” Leia whispered. “No, never mind, it’s too complicated to explain, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“When the Empire fell,” Rillao said, “I thought perhaps we were safe. I did not know what had happened to my lover. I grieved that he was dead. I grieved for my world, ruined by the arrogance of the Empire. I grieved for my people, sent I knew not where into space to a far destination. My child and I lived happily. As happily as we could, alone. I could not even answer my child’s questions about his father. I practiced my craft, but in secret.
“And then,” Rillao said softly, “I discovered that I need not have grieved for my lover’s death. The one I had loved discovered us. He had been seeking us constantly. He has vast resources. He foresaw the fall of the Empire, and he prepared for it. We struggled.” She looked away, ashamed. “He overcame me.”
The Crystal Star Page 26
