by Claudia Gray
“We did what had to be done.” Leia’s voice shook. “We went up against a power so much greater than ours, whose tactics were so much bloodier. Can you imagine what would have happened if the Death Stars had remained operational? What act of terror could be more horrible than what happened to Alderaan? Have you forgotten that? I was there. I saw it happen, stood there watching while they destroyed my world, my home, everyone I had ever loved—”
By now Casterfo’s face had paled; he’d gone too far and he knew it.
But Leia could take no pleasure in seeing Casterfo’s dismay. The death of Alderaan had never left her, but it had been so long since she’d spoken of it. So very long. A few words, and suddenly she was back there—the sick ozone smell of the Death Star’s recirculated air thick in her nostrils, Tarkin’s chilly smile as thin as a knife’s blade, and clamped around one of her shoulders the armored hand of Darth Vader—
—her father—
“You understand nothing.” Leia had to force the words out. “Less than nothing.”
“I had not intended to—the destruction of Alderaan was of course terrible—I meant—” Casterfo held out a hand as if to soothe her. If he actually touched her, Leia would not be held responsible for her actions.
He didn’t, so she lashed back with words instead. “You get to daydream about a glorious Empire because you grew up in the freedom and safety we bought for you. The price wasn’t cheap, Casterfo. It was paid in lives and years and suffering and terror, none of which a spoiled brat could possibly comprehend, because you’ve never had to fight for what you really believe in.”
Casterfo held out his arms, incredulous in his anger. “Was I just called a spoiled brat by a princess?”
“A princess who lost everything when she was no older than they are now.” Leia gestured toward Korrie and Joph, who both looked horrified; undoubtedly they’d been hoping nobody remembered they remained standing there. In the background, even C-3PO had been rendered speechless. Leia finished, “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to head back to the ship on my own before you follow.”
Nobody dared argue. Leia walked back toward the Mirrorbright. Although it was visible in the distance, it seemed too far away. She remained focused on it, despite the tightness in her throat and churning in her belly.
As she finally walked up the gangway, Greer appeared, one hand at the holster she wore. Her fierce expression faded as she saw Leia’s face. Leia couldn’t guess what she looked like now, but it couldn’t be good. “Princess Leia—” Greer began, but her words halted when Leia held up her hand.
“Not now, Greer.” The words came out more smoothly than Leia had expected. Good. Greer didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of anger Ransolm Casterfo had earned. “The others will be along shortly.”
Greer nodded and leaned back against one of the struts, staring out the opening into the dark tunnels beyond. By pretending to look for the rest of the delegation, she gave Leia a chance to protect her pride by going into her quarters unobserved. Leia felt a moment of deep, fierce affection for the girl, but the feeling drowned quickly. It was lost in the tide of memories of Alderaan.
The Cloudshape Falls with their great billowing spray that seemed like a cloud come to nest on the river. Bail Organa’s ringing laugh. The white-winged birds that flew in an X-formation, always westward, circling the planet once a year so that different regions marked their seasons by the birds’ appearance. A bedroom high in a castle tower, surprisingly simple for a royal residence, where Leia had dreamed and dozed and kept her most beloved possessions in a keepsake chest, in the belief that she could then have them with her forever and ever.
As the door to her quarters slid shut behind her, Leia leaned heavily against the wall. She closed her eyes and kept back the tears. It had been a very long time since she’d allowed herself to cry for Alderaan or the people she had lost there. She’d told herself she would never cry about it again; this promise had seen her through many years. But it never got any easier to keep.
—
Greer Sonnel did not miss racing.
She didn’t. Really. Her diplomatic work challenged her intellect and fulfilled her desire to do something meaningful in the world. Princess Leia was the best boss Greer had ever had—hot-tempered sometimes, but straightforward and principled, with a sly sense of humor to boot. As frustrating as the Galactic Senate could be, working there did offer the unique satisfaction of knowing you were at the political center of the known universe.
It wasn’t as though she could’ve raced forever in any case. She didn’t have the wealth to outfit a team of her own, so where else might she have ended up? If she’d saved for her own ship and traveled around the galaxy looking for work, she wouldn’t have been able to choose her employers. Bad bosses plus uncertain pay? No, thanks. She couldn’t see signing up for a standard transport company, either. The same half a dozen runs, over and over? Even if you did believe in what you were doing, the routine would soon sap all the joy out of flying. And once you took no more joy in flying, you might as well crawl into the peat bog and die, to let the soil make something else out of you.
But she’d still had so many years in front of her, so many good years taken away…
No. She wasn’t going to dwell on that. Princess Leia’s offer of employment a few years ago had come just when Greer needed it most. She’d adapted to the Senate—become damn good at her job, in fact—and yet she still got to fly from time to time. Even diplomatic runs on the Mirrorbright could offer some variety.
And this mission was shaping up to be much more interesting than most.
“She actually spoke the words spoiled brat?” Greer took a gulp of her caf as she double-checked the engines first thing the next day.
Joph nodded, his thick, floppy blond hair sliding into his eyes from the motion. “And he threw them right back at her.”
Greer pretended to shiver. “So the deep freeze continues.”
In Bastatha’s deep caverns, morning was more a concept than a reality. She and Joph were working in the same darkness that had enclosed them overnight, each of them doing routine maintenance on their engines—though, in a place as lawless as Bastatha, checking for sabotage was also a good idea.
The Mirrorbright checked out. But Greer lingered, mostly for the chance to check out Joph’s X-wing. Back when she’d had a starfighter of her own, she’d babied it until it shone, even down in the deepest recesses of its engines…
Her comlink buzzed. “Greer?”
“Princess Leia. Can we help you?” Greer glanced at Joph, who was leaning closer already.
“Briefing in five.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Greer said with a smile. Oh, this was no routine run.
Some time later, as Greer sat in one of the chairs in the Mirrorbright’s main area, the briefing seemed about to wrap up until Ransolm Casterfo walked in. Unsurprisingly, he already wore his fine cloak, though by now it had begun to look rather crumpled. Does he sleep in it? Greer wondered idly.
Casterfo looked from person to person. “Is this…a meeting?”
“Why, Senator Casterfo, we are currently discussing an invitation just received by the princess.” C-3PO, always glad to be of service, shuffled closer to Casterfo. “Several business leaders on Bastatha have invited her to a private conference.”
“I was invited as well,” Casterfo interjected, alarm clear on his face. “But I had no thought of accepting. Surely, Senator Organa—”
“I’ve said yes.” Princess Leia poured herself more caf with studied nonchalance. Greer thought that anyone who didn’t know the princess very well would actually think she didn’t care. “Don’t worry. You needn’t accompany me.”
“How can you even consider it?” Casterfo stepped into the middle of the small gathering. Maybe he was compensating for being excluded by now making it impossible for them to ignore him. “Such an invitation is highly irregular. ‘Business leaders’? Need I remind you the nature of the ‘business’ conducted on Bastat
ha? Most of it is distasteful at best, criminal at worst. They even asked for us to bring only one escort. Suspicious, don’t you think? If there is any truth to Emissary Yendor’s allegations, and this Rinnrivin Di figure has a cartel based on this planet, then there’s even potential for violence.”
“I don’t think they’ll attack a senatorial delegation.” Princess Leia didn’t meet Casterfo’s eyes. He might as well have been a piece of furniture in the room. Ouch, Greer thought. She didn’t like the guy much better than the princess did, but she couldn’t help pitying anyone who’d basically just been buried neck-deep in ice.
“You don’t think. And on this basis, you’ll march out into mortal danger.” Casterfo gestured skyward, then sighed. “I take it nothing I say will make any difference. Why should you start listening to me now?”
The princess shrugged. “As I said, you can stay here, safe and sound.”
Casterfo pulled himself back together with a sniff. “I shall take no responsibility for your safety.”
“That’s fine. Anything else?” Princess Leia took another sip. By now the tension in the room had risen so sharply that Greer’s own caf seemed to churn in her belly. Korr stared at her feet, and C-3PO’s upper body rotated from senator to senator in apparent confusion.
“Good luck,” Casterfo said. “You’ll need it.” With that he stalked back toward his quarters.
The silence that followed endured until Korrie finally ventured, “It’s not as though he’s wrong.”
Greer and Joph exchanged a look. Would Princess Leia blow up at that? Would she acknowledge that Korrie—like Casterfo—actually had a point?
She did neither. The princess continued staring at the corridor down which Casterfo had vanished as she said, “He’s the type they liked to recruit. The Empire, I mean. Casterfo is just the sort of person they promoted in their ranks. Privileged and proper and self-important.”
Nobody spoke. Greer figured the others, like her, had no idea what to say.
“I can just see him in an Imperial uniform,” Princess Leia continued. “And I think that’s how he likes to see himself.”
“Surely not!” C-3PO sounded as indefatigably cheerful as ever. “Why, who would ever want to imagine being a part of the Empire?”
Leia’s dark eyes continued to stare past the rest of them, toward a horizon only she could see. “Many people would. Far too many.”
—
When the “businessmen” arrived—yellow-green Niktos with lowered heads and beady eyes, flanking Magistrate Tosta on either side—Leia strode from the Mirrorbright to meet them, a heavy silver necklace around her neck only a small part of the finery she’d donned for the occasion. The pale silvery gown she wore, with its high collar and deeply belled sleeves, was formal enough for the Senate chamber, and she was even now tugging on her finest cloak; it was a touch they would take note of, and satisfaction in.
“Is the honored senator our only guest today?” One of the Niktos gestured toward the ship. “We received Senator Casterfo’s regrets, but your guard will join us, surely.”
“No security.” Leia smiled with all the warmth she could muster. “This is a diplomatic mission, one of the greatest importance to us both. If I didn’t trust the people of Bastatha, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”
The Niktos’ wide smiles told her how much they liked her answer. “Join us, Senator Organa. We have so much to show you.”
They escorted her to a sort of speeder, one with a wide, variably powered base that allowed it to hover far above uneven surfaces. The transparent semi-enclosure at the top gave Leia a fine view of the caverns, particularly as they headed deeper within the world, farther away from the gauzy casino complexes. Here, she saw small outcroppings that had been turned into residence buildings, perhaps to house the Niktos and their employees. Unlike the elegant structures above, these residences seemed almost as if they were hidden—tucked away in darkness, closed in tight.
Anyone who worked here would feel that the rest of the galaxy was far away. Whoever held power on Bastatha would appear to be the only source of authority in the world.
Leia shivered as she brought her hands together, so they would be covered and warmed by her wide sleeves. Although she strongly agreed with most aspects of Populist philosophy, she couldn’t deny that her party’s approach had its own flaws. One of them was that planets similar to Bastatha, without much independent power or a strong economy, tended to get left behind. We alone manage our own affairs, Populist worlds said; the corollary to this was We manage only our own affairs. When each planet was focused only on its own best interests, problems on other worlds were ignored.
Failing to help those in need was bad enough for a government that claimed to represent and protect everyone. But even those too shortsighted to understand that ought to realize that one world’s difficulties often spread offplanet and magnified exponentially. One world’s epidemic could become a system-wide pandemic. One world’s dissident faction could turn into interplanetary terrorism—the real kind, she thought sourly, barely able to restrain her scorn at the thought of Ransolm Casterfo’s ignorance.
And one world’s criminal mastermind could turn into a cartel boss capable of warping economic and political power among dozens of systems, just as the Hutts had not so long ago.
Leia startled at a flash of movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to see a hoversled weaving up toward them, piloted by a single Nikto—one who’d aimed his blaster directly at her driver.
Magistrate Tosta whispered something in his own language, sibilant and low. Leia turned toward him to see another two hoversleds pulling up alongside. One of the pilots gestured to someone behind them, no doubt covering them from behind. The firepower these Nitko had in their hands and holsters was enough to blow them all away ten times over.
“I apologize, Princess Leia,” said Tosta, doing his best to sound genuinely sorry. There was no need; they both knew he’d set her up. “We appear to be surrounded.”
As her captors boarded the hovercraft, Leia remained where she sat, her posture regal. “Are you kidnapping me for ransom, or is this an assassination?”
“Neither, Senator Organa.” The Nikto attacker with the largest blaster smiled toothily at her. “We are bringing you to an important meeting. There is no need to resist.”
Meaning, they’ll hurt me if I do. Leia had never planned on resisting. She simply folded her arms across her chest. “Then it looks like I’m going to a meeting.”
Her supposed hosts—Magistrate Tosta and the “businessmen” who had led her into danger—were lowered to one of the nearest crags and told to walk to safety. This surprised Leia only because she couldn’t believe they were still going through this sham, pretending that she hadn’t been set up from the beginning.
Then again, could she blame them? She was pretending, too, as though she were afraid or at least unsure. Leia had suspected something like this was in the offing from the first moment she’d read the “business leaders’ invitation.”
In fact, she’d been counting on it.
The speeder dived far deeper into the Bastatha caverns, so much so that the Mirrorbright now had to be a couple of kilometers overhead. Broader tunnels gave way to narrow passageways barely large enough for their ship to slip through. Although Leia didn’t tend to be claustrophobic, she found herself keenly aware of the heaviness of the stone overhead. Soon they were nearly concealed in darkness, except for the faint glow of lights from the windows of a small domed structure atop a plateau in the depths of the cavern. As the hovercraft sidled to the edge of the plateau, Leia put one hand to her throat as if in dismay—and pressed her fingers down hard on the central pendant of her necklace.
That pendant, broad and jeweled, perfectly concealed the miniature sensor beacon Greer had wired in place first thing that morning. Now signals were being sent to the Mirrorbright, broadcasting not only her exact position but also the scans of those closest to her, namely her captors. Le
ia’s staff would immediately contact the local authorities. Although the Nikto magistrates wouldn’t want to arrest criminal overlords as powerful as these, once a senator had been kidnapped…well, they couldn’t talk their way around that one.
All Leia had to do was hold on, and stay alive.
For one moment the craft simply hung there in darkness, the deep well of the crevasse seemingly infinite beneath them. Overhead Leia heard squeaks and flapping wings—mynocks, perhaps. The only sign of civilization or light was the domed structure atop this plateau. When the door opened, a shaft of brightness cut into the gloom, and she saw the silhouette of her captor.
He walked toward them, his individual features taking shape as Leia’s eyes adjusted. He was shorter than most of the others, his leathery skin redder. The white trousers and jacket he wore seemed to shine in the darkness, so elegantly cut that Ransolm Casterfo might have been proud to own them. He carried himself with as much dignity as any member of the Elder Houses, though there was something in his posture that made Leia feel Rinnrivin was mimicking humans—for what effect, she couldn’t guess. As he reached the edge of the plateau, Leia lifted her head high. “Rinnrivin Di, I presume?”
“Princess Leia Organa.” Rinnrivin spoke warmly, as if welcoming an old friend. He held out his hand to help her from the hovercraft. “I apologize for your unorthodox journey here. However, I thought you unlikely to accept a straightforward invitation.”
“I would’ve appreciated the opportunity to say yes or no.” Leia took Rinnrivin’s hand and stepped easily onto the plateau, her cloak billowing in the breeze. If he could pretend this was any other formal visit, so could she.
He ushered her toward the dome with as much dignity and courtesy as any court minister. “Let me see if I can’t make it up to you. We have so much to discuss, you and I, including matters I believe will be of great interest and benefit to us both.”
