The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy
Page 2
“Artoo-Detoo, at last!” the protocol droid cried. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Leia drew her hood up over her head, carefully sliding her blaster out of its hidden holster. There was a way out for her; there had to be. Leia, like her father, refused to accept impossible odds. She just needed time to think. A safe place to hide. As the sounds and voices of the droids disappeared, new ones echoed over to her. Precise, sharp steps. The clicking of armor. Low voices.
Stormtroopers.
Leia pressed back farther into the shadows, squeezing her gun to keep her hand from shaking. She was all the droid had now. There was still time to create enough of a distraction for it to reach an escape pod and blast down to the planet’s surface. But, stars, she couldn’t get her heart to slow down. Her breathing sounded loud to her own ears. It wouldn’t be her first time in a firefight—it wouldn’t even be her first firefight that month—but there was so much at stake. She couldn’t let all the lives lost that day be for nothing.
She was afraid. That the mission would be a failure. That the Devastator would blast the droid’s escape pod into a trillion pieces. That she’d never return to Alderaan. That the Rebellion would be demolished. That she’d never see her father or mother again.
But fear was a useless emotion. She needed to fight, and the only way she knew how to burn through her fear was to summon her anger.
All she had to do was think of the Emperor’s sickly eyes. His cackling laugh that crept all over her skin like freezing fingers.
Leia had met the evil old toad for the first time just after she’d been elected as Alderaan’s senator. Her father was to present her to the Emperor on Coruscant, with all the newly elected officials. While her aunts had spent the days leading up to the trip debating her hairstyle and which dress she should wear, Leia had spent that time listing out her grievances. The things she’d be fighting to change. She wanted to tell the Emperor to his face. She was the youngest senator ever elected to the Imperial Senate, and she was going to make an impression—fire off a warning shot at the start of what was going to be a long war for the good of the galaxy. It didn’t matter to her if she made some enemies in the process.
But as she had walked up to the black throne, the old man had lifted his head, revealing the deathly pale, wrinkled skin of his face. His eyes had seemed to glow, piercing right through her. The words lodged in her throat, and a cold sweat broke out on her neck. Leia barely heard her father say her name, barely felt the hand he placed on her back to guide her forward. Her aunts had drilled manners and protocol into her so deeply, she caught herself automatically dropping into a curtsy—a curtsy!—before she could stop herself.
“It will be nice,” the Emperor croaked, a smirk twisting his bloodless lips, “to have such a pretty face in the Senate.”
And that had been it. He had spoken to her like she was as much a piece of decoration as the chamber’s statues. Leia hadn’t been able to summon a single word to protest it. Just thinking about it made bile rise in her throat.
There. That was better. A steady, warm flush of anger flooded her system. Her focus sharpened, homing in on the stormtroopers stepping into the corridor through a nearby hatch.
“Search every passageway and compartment,” the leader ordered. “You two, check behind those power conduits.”
Of all the rotten luck—the pipe behind her released a hiss of steam and rattled loudly, making one of the stormtroopers turn back around.
“Wait. I thought I saw something—”
Blasted white dress, Leia thought, aiming her gun.
“There she is! Set your weapons to stun!”
Leia wasn’t about to set her blaster to stun. She fired, hitting the stormtrooper out in front. He let out a sharp cry as he crashed to the ground.
“Watch it! She’s armed! Fire!”
The firing would draw even more attention. She’d have to run, find better cover to hold them off just a little longer.
But the moment Leia turned her back, it felt like she’d been tackled from behind by a Star Destroyer. The hit from the stun bolt took all the feeling from her legs, sending her slamming forward against the rough grating under her feet.
A thousand sparks of light burst in Leia’s eyes, momentarily blinding her.
Move! she ordered herself, even as helplessness rolled through her. You’re not done yet!
“She’ll be all right,” she heard the first stormtrooper say. “Inform Lord Vader we have a prisoner.”
SENSATION FLOODED back into Leia’s numb arms and legs as she was hauled onto her feet. It felt like she’d been filled with sand. Her first few steps were stumbles, as the whole galaxy seemed to wobble around her. The stormtroopers surrounded her, snapping binders over her wrists.
They thought they could take her prisoner? Her? Leia knew she hadn’t held much weight with the other senators, but she was well aware that the public cared about her. Any whisper of mistreatment would set the holonet on fire. Was that a risk the Emperor was willing to take?
She sincerely hoped not.
“H-how dare you!” she seethed, her lips still numb from the crackling electricity of the stun bolt. Even though it felt like her head was underwater, Leia twisted around, throwing her elbow back and kicking at the nearest stormtrooper’s knee. In retaliation, the soldiers jostled her from all sides, shoving her forward when she refused to move. Leia knew she was caught, but she wasn’t going to be a willing captive.
The main corridor of the ship was almost blindingly bright after the dark interior passageways. Smoke from the battle choked the air. Every time Leia drew in a breath, her lungs burned with the sharp ozone stench left behind by blaster bolts.
And everywhere there were bodies.
They’d been left where they’d fallen, their wounds and lifeless expressions turning Leia’s stomach violently. She didn’t want to see that. Those were her people, and she’d marched them to their deaths. There was no way to fix that, no way to make it better. Leia forced herself to look, to remember. She’d need to tell their families…she’d need to…to…
My fault, she thought, my fault…Leia the senator, even Leia the princess, could justify their deaths as a necessary sacrifice, but Leia the human was having a hard time swallowing a scream.
Darth Vader stood at the end of the hallway, his towering height and wide shoulders almost blocking the hole the Imperials had blown through the doors to get into the Tantive IV. Stormtroopers swarmed around him, their armor clicking like the exoskeletons of insects. As the Emperor’s right hand, Darth Vader stood out in sharp contrast. His armor, flowing cape, and helmet were as black as the scorch marks on the walls.
And at his feet was the crumpled form of Captain Antilles. Leia could hear the loud wheeze of Vader’s breathing as the stormtroopers dragged her forward but couldn’t detect any sign that the captain was alive.
Even him? Leia had been sure—or at least had hoped—they’d keep the captain alive for questioning. She’d banked on having his silent, steady support. Her chest seized with the shock of it, the pain. Her thoughts blanked out, overrun by anguish and fury.
Captain Antilles had been an extraordinary leader; he’d broken through countless Imperial blockades to get supplies to the Rebellion. And the crew had been so young, too—so much life wasted in a matter of minutes. She couldn’t stand it. The war will go on without me, Captain Antilles had said. It won’t without you. But in that moment, it all seemed impossible.
I’m sorry, she thought. I’m so sorry.
Civilian Leia was at a loss, but she felt some part of her click into place as she faced Darth Vader. Senator Leia Organa had dealt with him before. She could face him again. She could use the ice that flooded her veins to steel herself in his presence.
Leia straightened up, threw her shoulders back, hid her fear. But it was never easy to come face to face with a living nightmare. Especially when it towered over her. When its hot, moist breath fanned across her face as it leaned toward
her.
“Darth Vader. I should have known.” Leia poured every ounce of the hate she felt into her voice. “Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear you’ve attacked a diplomatic—”
“Don’t play games with me, Your Highness. You weren’t on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system!” Not for the first time, Leia thought he must have intentionally programmed his voice to be deep and rumbling, like a thunderstorm. No normal man could sound half as terrifying. “Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you.”
Leia tried to ignore the way her heart was galloping in her chest. The little droid would have to be away by now, shooting down to the planet, out of Vader’s reach. She had outmaneuvered him, maybe for the first time ever, and knowing that made it easier to keep her cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission.”
“You’re part of the Rebel Alliance and a traitor!” he roared, swinging around to a nearby stormtrooper. “Take her away!”
At his command, the stormtroopers pushed her toward the hole they’d blown though the door of the Tantive IV. Leia strained her ears, trying to catch what an Imperial officer was reporting to Vader. She caught only a few words: We must be careful….The people adore her….Rebels…princess…plans…
Blast it—Vader knew exactly what information they’d downloaded. The Rebellion and all its members—including her father—were in more danger than ever, and it tore at her heart to know that it was her fault for letting the ship, the crew, and herself fall into the Empire’s net. As Leia left her battered ship for what she knew would be the last time, she could only hope she’d given that little droid enough of a chance to save them all.
ONE OF THE MANY dangers of being born royal—aside from death by boredom during her aunts’ lessons—was the constant threat of abduction. As her mother was the queen of Alderaan and her father the queen’s consort, to say they were wealthy and powerful was a vast understatement. When the seediest cretins came crawling out of the darkest corners of the galaxy looking for victims, Leia was a natural target for their greed. So despite feeling there was something terribly unladylike about throwing large, sweaty men around on wrestling mats, her aunts agreed with her parents that self-defense needed to become part of her relentless princess training once she turned sixteen.
Leia had loved the rush that feeling physically strong had given her; it was the same buzzing sensation she felt every time she did something useful for the Rebellion. Plus, the self-defense lessons had their unexpected uses. For instance, being able to punch a dummy made it easier to turn around later in the afternoon and learn ten different ways to curtsy without kicking her aunts in the shins. And a single piece of advice from her instructor had saved her life a hundred times over: pay attention.
Leia kept her mind clear and focused on the moment, her eyes open and scanning the Star Destroyer and every Imperial soldier around her. They had brought the Tantive IV into a hangar bay that was mostly deserted—of course. Leia was still a member of the Senate, and Vader would do everything in his vast power to hush up this incident. Including, if she had to guess, destroying her ship and blaming her “unfortunate death” on some kind of mechanical malfunction.
Her stomach clenched, twisted into knots. No, they hadn’t killed her on the spot, but Leia was certain it had nothing to do with her being a senator or a princess and everything to do with the answers Vader thought he could get out of her.
What would happen after he realized she’d give him nothing about the Rebellion? Leia would willingly jump out of an airlock into the freezing vacuum of space before she would betray her father and the people she’d come to think of as comrades.
She had to get out—get the truth out. If she could just get down to Tatooine and find the droid and General Kenobi, she could still salvage the mission. And, if nothing else, she could tell her father she was still alive. Leia burned with the need to prove she hadn’t failed him or the Rebellion completely. She would never let herself wallow in the helplessness the Senate had tried to drown her in. There was still too much to do.
The Star Destroyer’s interior was exactly like the regime it served: cold and ruthlessly efficient. It was all sleek lines, everything in pure white or black. There was no gray in the Emperor’s world. There was us and there was them. There was his way or no way at all.
Leia was hustled into a narrow silver tube of an elevator that shot her and her escorts up to a walkway at breakneck speed. She leaned around the broad shoulders and shining armor of the stormtroopers, trying to dodge their grips to see what was below. A series of hangars, as it turned out. Each wide, echoing chamber featured impossibly tall ceilings and enormous metal doors to draw ships inside.
You could fit the entire population of some planets in here, Leia thought, shocked at their size. She saw sparks spraying up as engineers worked to repair ships, droids hauling in heavy pieces of machinery no man could have ever lifted, and assembled lines of troops drilling in formations.
Compared with the others, the hangar they’d towed the Tantive IV into was smaller, but already swarming with stormtroopers and Imperial officers. It was the third hangar they passed that caught and held Leia’s attention. There were two shuttles docked below, with only a single crew moving carts of supplies toward them.
Someone’s prepping for a trip, she thought. Her mind worked at lightspeed, and she saw her escape plan unfold as clearly as if the Emperor himself had rolled out a carpet for her. Yes—a small thrill of victory raced through her. She could work with that. Her spirits lightened for the first time in hours, and she felt the crushing pressure lift off her chest. The shuttles would be fueled. And the shuttles were outfitted with weapons. She could blast her way out, and by the time they realized what was happening, she’d be through Tatooine’s atmosphere.
Take that! she wanted to shout to the other senators. She was about to prove exactly what she was capable of when given the opportunity to try. Her membership in the Rebellion still felt new, too fresh. She’d needed the mission to show them her dedication and how far she’d go for them if only they’d give her the support to get there. This—the story of her escape under Vader’s nose—would solidify her bond with them that much more. No one—not the media, not her aunts, not even her father—would be able to deny that she was a fighter and deserved to have her voice heard.
If I don’t get shot out of the sky first, she thought. No—she could do it. She’d had years of flight training. And, well, there were all those dunes to hide in. Let’s see how Vader liked getting gritty sand in sensitive places in his armor.
She found her chance as two of her escorts broke away, heading into a nearby command room—if she had to guess, to begin processing her into the detention block. Leia allowed the others to push her into yet another elevator. The doors had barely shut when she swung her bound hands toward the control panel with a thwack, causing the car to jerk to a stop. The stormtroopers next to her were thrown off balance, giving her the chance to swipe one of their blasters and fire.
“Stop—!”
Too late for that, laser brain, Leia thought, glancing down at their stunned forms. Neither of them had the key to her binders. She reached up to pull one of the dozens of pins out of her hair and went to work jamming the electronic lock. Like the binders mattered. She could fly herself out of there blind, deaf, and with both arms and legs bound behind her back.
The second the elevator door hissed open, Leia slipped out and scanned the empty hall. She turned back and fired a shot at the elevator’s control panel. The doors shrieked in protest, jamming over and over on one of the stormtroopers’ feet. Leia blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes in a huff of annoyance as she kicked the foot back into the car. The elevator door slammed shut.
Leia kept to the edge of the corridor, hanging back a few steps
from the hangar’s entrance. The air on the ship was dry and freezing cold, but Leia felt damp with sweat. Pulse fluttering, she watched the engineers step through the hangar door together, speaking quietly. They turned, heading away from her.
Leia was still clutching the stolen blaster as she slipped inside and made a run for the shuttle. The boarding ramp was down—her mind sorted through the dangers quickly, like she was flicking through a stack of sabacc cards.
If no one was on board, she could just go.
If someone was on board, she’d need to stun him, but she could use him as a hostage. Stars, her aunts would have expired on the spot hearing that un-princess-like thought.
Two or three people inside would pose somewhat more of a challenge—the thought slid to a halt at the same moment her feet did.
Standing at the top of the shuttle’s boarding ramp, hands on his hips, as solid and large as any of Alderaan’s mountains, was Darth Vader.
FOR A MOMENT, Leia’s breath caught in her throat.
“An admirable show of spirit,” Vader’s voice boomed. There was a hint of amusement in it that somehow made her anger flame hotter than her irritation at having been caught. Leia set her jaw to keep from grinding her teeth. He was mocking her! “But the innocent have no reason to flee.”
Blast it, she thought. She should have known he’d only use her escape attempt as more proof against her. Time to pull out the one weapon she had and hope she aimed true. “I am a member of the Imperial Senate. I have rights, including the right not to be illegally detained!”
“You wear that title like armor, thinking it will protect you. No more, Your Highness. You have no rights and no protection now. The Imperial Senate is being dealt with as we speak.”
He stalked down the ramp, his heavy footsteps thundering in her ears. For a moment, Leia didn’t understand. “Dealt with”—did that mean—?
“Yes,” Vader said, circling around her. The blaster flew out of her hands, sailing through the air to land in his. She whirled around, stunned. The now-familiar cold prickle she associated with him was back, drawing freezing fingers up and down her neck.