Bloodline (Star Wars)

by Claudia Gray

  “Ransolm.” Leia shut her eyes for a moment, shocked by the depth of her sorrow and anger. In this hour it was as though he had never betrayed her, as though their friendship were still as strong as it had been the night they shared some of their darkest secrets. “This didn’t happen because you outed me. This happened because you defended me.”

  “Because I saw that my enemy had actually been my one true ally—and now I have learned that my so-called allies were my enemies after all.” Ransolm’s composure finally broke; he held out his cuffed hands, and she took them, even though his grip was so desperate it ached. “Leia, I’m sorry. I lost your friendship in the worst possible way. I wish I’d never told the Senate about Vader. I wish I hadn’t judged you by his actions.”

  “You hated him. You feared him. You reacted on instinct.” Leia still felt that was not an excuse, but it was a reason, one she could comprehend and even forgive.

  He continued, “It helps, knowing that you’ll go on. Knowing that you’ll stand up to the people in the Senate who could be this corrupt. Maybe you don’t have the official power any longer, but I’ve seen you find ways around the rules.”

  I can’t do this forever. Exhausted by her mad dash here, hollowed by her fear and grief for Ransolm, Leia felt every day of her age in her body. They’d been hard years, too. The work ahead belonged to other, younger, stronger people; she had believed Ransolm might be the one. But that dream, like so many others, was being crushed to dust.

  One of the guards stepped forward again. “Transport’s due to leave. We can’t delay any longer.”

  “But—” Leia couldn’t even get the objection out before the guards began hustling Ransolm away again. She ran after them, unashamed to make a spectacle of herself. “One more thing. Just one more thing.”

  The guards said nothing to her, but they stopped walking. Ransolm looked back at her, and he seemed younger to her then than he ever had. Far too young to die.

  “When I first met you, I thought—I said once that you would have served the Empire, if you’d been alive during the war. I said I could imagine you in an Imperial uniform.” Leia shook her head. “I was wrong. You wouldn’t have fought for the Empire. You would have been with us.”

  “With you,” Ransolm repeated. Once again he gave her that wounded smile. “I hope that’s true.”

  Then the guards continued marching, and Ransolm let himself be led. He did not look back again.

  In that instant, her anger rose to a nearly uncontrollable fury. If she’d had a blaster, she might have fired it. Her rage could have driven her to kill others—innocents—just to make sure Ransolm Casterfo didn’t have to needlessly die.

  She realized, then, something she had never fully understood before. She’d always wondered what had led her father to turn to the dark side, to become Darth Vader. She’d imagined it came from ambition, greed, or some other venal weakness. Never had she considered that the turn might begin in a better place, out of the desire to save someone or to avenge a great wrong. Even if it led to evil, that first impulse might be born of loyalty, a sense of justice, or even love.

  Had it been like that for her father? She could never know. But for the first time in a very long while, she had some sense of who Anakin Skywalker might have been before his fall, and of the goodness that must have survived in him through all the darkness, all the years.

  Leia stood in the hangar, breathing hard, staring at the transport vessel. She didn’t flinch when its engines roared to life, didn’t budge amid the gale of displaced air as it lifted off. Instead she remained still and watched the transport rise into the sky until it became so tiny and so distant that she would never see it again.

  She remembered this terrible heaviness in her chest from the days of the war, when she’d had to send troops out on missions from which they would never return. Even though she had known the rightness of their cause, she had always found the sense of loss and waste almost unbearable.

  But she had borne it then. She could bear it now. And the certainty taking hold in her mind as she watched Ransolm go to his death was one that she already knew would shape her from that day forward.

  Only the Centrists could be responsible for this. The Populists had no motive to eliminate nearly the only member of the other faction who would sometimes take their side. That meant the Centrists were eating their own. Not only were they attacking Populists on every side, they were also eliminating the members of their own faction who didn’t share their zeal for power. They had no use for moderates, no use for peace. The Centrists actively sought war—had perhaps been planning this for a very long time—and they’d begun removing every obstacle in their way.

  Despite her long disillusionment with the political process, Leia only now realized the Senate was doomed no matter what she did.

  War had become inevitable.

  —

  Lady Carise Sindian was having an excellent morning.

  She’d given the right quotes to the right sources about her shock regarding Casterfo’s arrest the day before. Like all honest Centrists, she washed her hands of him. They would not let their faction and their beliefs be dragged down by one man’s criminal actions. No, indeed, the Centrists would carry on.

  Unbeknownst to most, they were moving on very quickly already.

  The Senate had resolved on only one motion yesterday, which was to postpone the vote for the First Senator. In the wake of Tai-Lin Garr’s assassination and Ransolm Casterfo’s arrest, a majority agreed that the political situation was too volatile to support an election in the near future. Lady Carise and her allies had voted for this, because by now they had begun concocting a far superior solution: secession.

  It would take a few months to put events in motion. They needed a firm structure before proceeding. But soon, the Centrist worlds would leave the New Republic, tearing themselves from the mire of the Senate’s inaction to create and support the First Order. Her heart sang merely thinking of it.

  Lady Carise was smiling as she turned the corner that led directly to her office, then froze when she saw who was standing in front of her. “Princess Leia?”

  “Lucky running into you here,” said the princess, who stood not two meters from Lady Carise’s office door. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you for some time.”

  “As you know, I’m always ready to hear from a member of the Elder Houses.” Lady Carise could afford to be generous in triumph. Maybe Princess Leia would finally turn to her now that she had no other allies, and start behaving with proper respect toward a fellow noble. “Yes, let’s catch up. What have you been doing these days?” Besides being outmaneuvered at every turn, I mean.

  Princess Leia smiled. “I’ve been getting in touch with some old friends. Including, as it happens, the most senior members of the Elder Houses.”

  “Oh, really?” Lady Carise had begun to realize just how much anger was hidden by the princess’s smile.

  “Yes. You see, there was a matter we very much needed to discuss, namely, the sanctity of the royal seal, as applied to the holdings of the supreme governor of Birren.” Princess Leia’s tone remained cordial, but her gaze sharpened. “I imagine you thought I’d be too distracted to notice—and to be fair, I was for a while—but it didn’t take me too long to realize that the keepsake chest could only have been hidden on Birren. Only the supreme governor could have had access to it. And the supreme governor, namely you, had been through weeks of rituals surrounding the inauguration, in which the governor-to-be repeatedly promises to uphold the sanctity of the royal seal, no matter what. You didn’t even last a month.”

  Lady Carise had been prepared for an altercation like this when Casterfo first revealed the truth, but in the weeks since, she’d been lulled into believing Leia would either never notice or simply let it go. So she found herself at a loss for words. “Well. I suppose. But I felt—in such an extreme moral crisis—”

  “The oath demands that the supreme governor uphold the sanctity of the r
oyal seal unto death.” Princess Leia raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to pursue this to the fullest extent of the law. It was enough to contact the ruling members of the Elder Houses and convince them to finally pass a resolution, the first one they’ve bothered to pass in years. To be specific, they’ve stripped you of your royal titles, forever. The title of supreme governor of Birren will go to the next person in the line of succession, and you are no longer a member of the Elder Houses.”

  Could she accomplish such a thing? Could it be possible? Lady Carise felt as if her knees might give out. “You can’t. It’s mine by right of birth. Nobility is sacred—they wouldn’t take it away like that!”

  Princess Leia sighed and shook her head. “It’s been a very long time since nobility was sacred to anyone but you. It’s such a small punishment, both for what you did to me and especially for what I believe you did to Ransolm. But it hurts, doesn’t it? It has to cut you to the quick. You’ve never been able to convince yourself you were superior to anyone except through an accident of your birth, which by the way is one of the saddest things I can imagine.”

  Lady Carise’s breaths were coming so fast she might hyperventilate. They couldn’t take her titles away. They couldn’t!

  But apparently they already had…

  “This is the only punishment I have the power to enact anymore, so I have to content myself with hurting you—for now.” Princess Leia smiled. “Goodbye, Carise.”

  Carise. Just Carise. From this day on, she would only be Carise Sindian. She could imagine no greater humiliation. So Carise could only stand there, gulping for breath, as she watched the princess walk away.

  —

  Late that evening, Leia changed out of her senatorial robes into a plain tan coverall and one of Han’s leather jackets. It hung big on her, but smelled comfortingly of him, even so long after he’d been gone. She laced up her boots and headed toward a little-used hangar on the edge of the capital city, one she’d signed an exclusive lease on the day before.

  The hangar wouldn’t serve their purposes for long. She would have to think bigger, hide deeper, and go farther. For now, however, they only needed a place to begin.

  When Leia walked inside, she saw that everyone she’d contacted was already there; she’d been early, but they came even earlier. In the back were those who had traveled farthest to help her—Nien Nunb, Ematt, and even Admiral Ackbar, standing straight, ready to serve. To the side was Harter Kalonia, who hadn’t hesitated to accept Leia’s invitation, and thank goodness; it was always good to have a doctor on hand who knew how to keep a secret. Clustered closer were the young pilots she’d recruited, chosen from either those she had worked with personally—such as Joph Seastriker, who stood at the very front—or those Joph and the other pilots had vouched for, such as Snap Wexley and Zari Bangel.

  But one person she hadn’t invited came toward her now.

  “Greer?” Leia put her hands on her assistant’s shoulders. “What are you doing here? I told you, for your own protection, you shouldn’t know any more about this than is strictly necessary.”

  “Exactly,” Greer said with a smile. “And since I’m going to be one of your top pilots, it’s probably necessary for me to learn everything.”

  “No. You know you can’t—”

  “I know, I know. I’m supposed to play it safe and tame and calm, so I can live a long life that’s nothing like the one I actually want to lead. And I’m supposed to just stand by instead of supporting a cause I believe in.” Shaking her head, Greer said, “I’d rather burn in a better kind of flame.”

  Even as Leia’s heart ached, she knew better than to argue. Instead she simply hugged the younger woman briefly before turning back toward the group, which was falling into an expectant silence.

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight,” Leia began. “Whether you’re an old friend or a new one, you’re here because you’ve shown courage. You’ve shown initiative. You’ve seen the coming danger, and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect the peaceful worlds of this galaxy from war.”

  “We’re ready.” Joph’s blue eyes were bright with excitement. War would dim that joy too quickly. Leia wished she could keep his youthful enthusiasm safe somewhere, that she could bottle it or tuck it away, but knew it was just one more sacrifice the approaching conflict would claim.

  She warned, “Don’t speak too soon. Every one of you has to fully understand that this movement, this organization, is not sanctioned by the Galactic Senate. For now, and possibly forever, we operate beyond governmental control. That may mean bending some laws, and breaking others.”

  “Never stopped us before,” Ackbar rasped.

  Greer added, “We’ve already got a few hundred thermal detonators. It’s a start.”

  Leia scanned the room and saw no doubts, no hesitation. These people trusted her. They were ready. Finally she was ready, too.

  “The sun is setting on the New Republic,” Leia said. “It’s time for the Resistance to rise.”

  By Claudia Gray

  STAR WARS

  Lost Stars

  Bloodline

  FIREBIRD

  A Thousand Pieces of You

  Ten Thousand Skies Above You

  A Million Worlds with You

  SPELLCASTER

  Steadfast

  Spellcaster

  Sorceress

  EVERNIGHT

  Evernight

  Stargazer

  Hourglass

  Afterlife

  Balthazar

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CLAUDIA GRAY is the author of Star Wars: Lost Stars, as well as A Thousand Pieces of You and the Evernight and Spellcaster series. She has worked as a lawyer, a journalist, a disc jockey, and a particularly ineffective waitress. Her lifelong interests include old houses, classic movies, vintage style, and history. She lives in New Orleans.

  claudiagray.com

  Facebook.com/​authorclaudiagray

  @claudiagray

  Read on for an excerpt from

  AFTERMATH: LIFE DEBT

  by Chuck Wendig

  PUBLISHED BY DEL REY BOOKS

  The galaxy is changing, and with peace now a possibility, some dare to imagine new beginnings and new destinies. For Han Solo, that means settling his last outstanding debt, by helping Chewbacca liberate the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk.

  Meanwhile, Norra Wexley and her band of rebels pursue Admiral Rae Sloane and the remaining Imperial leadership across the galaxy. Sloane, increasingly wary of the mysterious Grand Admiral, desperately searches for a means to save the crumbling Empire from oblivion. Even as Imperial forces fight to regain lost ground, Princess Leia and the New Republic seek to broker a lasting peace.

  But the rebel’s hunt for Admiral Sloane is cut short after the disappearance of Han Solo and Chewbacca. Desperate to save them, Leia conscripts Norra, Sinjir, Jas, and the rest of their team to find the missing smugglers and help them in their fight for freedom.

  —

  The veldt stretches out before them.

  The ki-a-ki bushes tremble in the warm wind, dark thorny scrubs whose gentle tremors call to mind an animal trying very hard not to be seen. The thirstgrass conspires with the breeze: whispers and shushes and hissed hushes. Red, feathery clouds streak across the open sky, a sky the color of blush and bloom. A lone ship crosses it—some cargo ship, probably, one of the few travelers to this distant world of Irudiru.

  Down there, among the grass and the scrub, sits a compound.

  The compound has seven buildings. Each sits squat and rectangular, each made of blond brick and bloodred mortar, each with rail-top roofs and round porthole windows and water catchment tanks. One of the buildings is different, though: a manse larger and more ostentatious than the other more austere buildings. The house is surrounded by a screened-in porch, a xerioscape garden, and a series of shimmering and shifting holo-statues. A droid with many extensor limbs flits about, tending to the garden and tuning up
the statues.

  Otherwise, the compound is silent and still.

  And it has been for the better part of the last day.

  This is the compound of Golas Aram.

  What the crew knows about Aram is little, but perhaps enough: He was once employed by the Galactic Empire as an architect. A prison architect, in fact. Aram designed some of the Empire’s most notable prisons, including the Lemniscate beneath Coruscant, the floating asteroid prison of Orko 9, and the Goa Penal Colony. Aram’s reported specialty was making prisons that were self-sustaining and inescapable. He considered it his “art.”

  Thing is, he didn’t work only for the Empire. He operated freelance, too—helping design and build prisons for the Kanjiklub, for the Junihar Cartel, even for Splugorra the Hutt.

  Aram is retired, supposedly.

  Just the same, Golas is the only Imperial connection out here on Irudiru. He’s the one good lead they have. But what happens when they go pulling on that thread? Will they find Han Solo? Or will the whole thing fall apart? Could they be putting Solo in danger?

  The narrative they can put together for Solo is shaky, at best. The Millennium Falcon got into a scrape not far from Warrin Station. Han had transmitted after that—but whatever he was investigating sure stirred up trouble. Given the presence of that Asp droid and the sheer manic glee of Tashu regarding Irudiru, there’s cause to worry. So, if Han was here investigating Aram, then what? After that, the narrative frays. Why look into Aram at all? Did Aram catch Solo sniffing around? Is Solo in prison—or is he looking for someone in prison?

  Either way, it’s what they have, so here they are.

  From their hiding spot atop a gentle hilltop plateau, Norra leans forward, parting the sharp-bladed thirstgrass like a curtain and peering out through a pair of macrobinoculars. Using the dial on the side, she scans through the heat signatures then clicks over to electric and electronic indicators. The binocs highlight a series of danger spots all around the compound; they glow red in the viewscreen. “I see them,” she tells Jas—Jas, who lies unseen in the tall grass even though she’s only a few feet away.