The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy

by Alexandra Bracken

  “I have my own problems to deal with,” Han muttered, looking back out toward the stars.

  Leia had been caught off guard by his response, and if Luke had thought she was angry before, it was nothing compared with now. Her voice was colder than the freezing vacuum of space. “You needn’t worry about your reward. If money is all that you love, then that’s what you’ll receive!”

  That was the problem, wasn’t it? Luke knew Han loved his credits, but that wasn’t all he loved. Luke had seen real good in him. Or, uh, at least the potential for good when he wasn’t distracted by thoughts of his bank account.

  Han’s smirk slipped, just for a second, as Leia turned and started toward the cockpit door.

  “Your friend is quite a mercenary,” she said to Luke, loudly enough to ensure that Han would hear. “I wonder if he really cares about anything…or anyone.”

  “I care,” Luke called after her lamely.

  “Smooth, kid,” Han said with a chuckle.

  Luke flushed as he took Chewbacca’s empty copilot chair. He could count the number of girls his age he’d known on Tatooine with one hand, and all of them had been taken. It was hard enough to figure out what to say to a girl without her also being one of the most impressive people in the entire galaxy.

  Luke asked, trying to sound casual, “What do you think of her?”

  Han raised an eyebrow. “I’m trying not to, kid.”

  “Good,” Luke muttered under his breath.

  “Still…she’s got a lot of spirit,” Han said. “I don’t know, do you think a princess and a guy like me…?”

  “No.”

  Luke realized his mistake when he looked up from under his bangs and saw the teasing smile on Han’s face. The smuggler was still laughing as he pushed the lever in front of him forward, sending the ship hurtling into hyperspace.

  THE FOURTH MOON orbiting the planet Yavin was like something out of one of the storybooks Aunt Beru used to read to him. Back then, he’d been no taller than R2 and, having seen nothing past the shimmering dunes outside his window, couldn’t imagine what a tree looked like. His aunt had a soft, kind heart compared with Uncle Owen’s, which had been roughened and sandblasted by years of disappointments. One day, when Uncle Owen had business in Mos Eisley, his aunt had taken him into Anchorhead, the nearest outpost town, to use the holonet connection there. She’d brought up images of forests and rivers and oceans for him to marvel at. The three-dimensional pictures had floated in the space in front of him, but they hadn’t felt real; he hadn’t been able to touch or smell them.

  His heart went painfully tight in his chest at the thought of his aunt and uncle. Every time Luke closed his eyes, he could see what the stormtroopers had done to his family, to their homestead, when they had come looking for the droids. He honestly believed what he’d told Leia; he hadn’t said it to make her feel better or to ease her guilt, knowing she was suffering from loss, too. He would always believe that the only people to blame were the soldiers of the Empire.

  But Luke was sure he’d never forget the sickening feeling of dread that had overwhelmed him as he’d raced home from Ben’s in his landspeeder. Some part of him had known he was too late, but he’d kept hoping. Just let me get there in time. Let it be someone else’s farm. Let them be okay….The monstrous cloud of smoke billowing from the burned-out shell of his home had been visible from kilometers away, a black beacon against the sky. Too late. Luke hated those words. Too late. There’d been nothing left to do but bury the people who had raised him.

  Leia glanced over at him, as if sensing his thoughts. Without a word, she slid her hand into his and gave it a quick, tight squeeze. The small gesture was reassuring but didn’t settle his mind or help him break the cycle of his thoughts.

  In the rare moments when he wasn’t wishing he had been home, that he could have protected his family, he remembered what Ben had said—that he would have been killed, too. That didn’t ease the throbbing hurt in his chest, but it did make him more determined than ever to make the most of his chance to destroy the Empire and everything it represented. First, though, the Rebellion would have to accept him. And that…wasn’t exactly guaranteed.

  The Falcon swept down through the soft, feathery clouds as they parted to reveal endless kilometers of thick rich green. It was a shade Luke had never seen in his life, not even in clothes. The trees were so thick and packed together that Luke couldn’t see through their leaves to the ground.

  For one horrible, embarrassing moment, Luke couldn’t think of the word to describe it. Then Han came to his rescue.

  “Jungle,” Han groaned. “Hope everyone packed their bug spray.”

  “There.” Leia leaned between Chewbacca and Han, pointing to a silver lookout post and the uniformed soldier keeping guard there. “They’ll be in the temples just beyond that….See?”

  They were so focused on the towering dark stone pyramids that had just come into view, they missed the streak of red that shot out of a gun hidden in the trees. Everyone but Han was tossed out of his or her seat. Luke hauled himself up, spinning back toward the viewport. They were actually firing at the Falcon? So much for smooth introductions!

  “Nice friends you’ve got, Your Worshipfulness!” Han huffed, reaching for his comlink. Leia beat him to it, adjusting the frequency until she found the one she was looking for.

  “This is…” Leia paused, a look of deep sadness coming over her features. Luke leaned forward and briefly put a hand on her shoulder, but he was confused by her expression. She struggled to find the words. “Leia Organa. Authorization code delta-alpha-nu-five-five. Requesting permission to land.”

  There was a split second of silence that made Luke’s hands tighten around his seat’s armrests. Then shouts of joy exploded from the radio, the sound too loud and messy to pick apart what any one of them was trying to say. Their growing excitement registered like a buzz in Luke’s ears.

  “Granted.” The voice that responded was deep, grave. “Use the landing pad near the eastern temple. We’ll tow you into the hangar.”

  “No need,” Han said loudly. “We ain’t staying.”

  Really? Luke thought, rubbing his hands over his face. Han wouldn’t even entertain the thought for a few hours before splitting? Maybe—maybe he just didn’t understand what they were fighting for. He shared an exasperated look with Leia as she spoke to the captain through the comm.

  There was time to work on Han, make him see how important he could be in the fight. But first…

  Luke leaned toward the viewport, resting his arms on the back of Chewbacca’s chair. He was trying to absorb the jungle, the temples, the signs of power generators and laser defenses, all in one deep gulp rather than letting them warm him slowly, the way a solar panel took in the sun.

  Luke bit his lip, not wanting to embarrass himself by asking Leia a million questions at once. Especially not when she had gone quiet and seemed lost in her thoughts. Of course. To her, this setting was typical, wasn’t it? She was used to being in the thick of the fight. Luke was going to have to work not to show exactly how green he really was. The leaders of the Rebellion would never let him fly if they knew how small his world had been the day before.

  Play it cool, he ordered himself, leaning back in his seat. Don’t think about how they’d probably prefer someone older, with more flying time under his belt. Someone like…Han.

  Who was still acting like he didn’t care if anyone in the Rebellion lived or died as long as he got his credits. Luke let his frustration rise before stamping it out. He was as good a pilot as Han. He just needed the chance to prove it.

  The Falcon settled softly on a cleared patch of soggy mud, sinking the last few centimeters. Leia waited only long enough for Han and Chewbacca to start the shut-down procedures before she stood, smoothed her hair and dress, and made her way back to the droids.

  Luke stood and followed her back through the ship, toward the hatch. “This place is something else.”

  “The Rebellion li
kes to use preexisting structures on remote planets. It makes us harder to track if we can pick up and leave at any moment,” Leia explained, leaning against the hatch door. “These temples were built by the Massassi race thousands of years ago, and they’re still standing. Hard to believe.”

  Hard to believe was right. Most structures on Tatooine lasted only a few years before they were buried by dunes or blasted by sandstorms. Had he ever seen something so old?

  Luke’s next question was interrupted by Han and Chewbacca coming down the ship’s hall.

  “All right, let’s get this over with,” Han said, checking the straps on his holster. “Looks like there’s a nice welcoming committee coming out to meet us.”

  Leia put her hands on her hips. “Is that why you’re checking to make sure your blaster is charged? Why don’t you wait here and I’ll have the money brought out to you. That way you don’t have to waste any more of your precious time with our lost cause.”

  Luke was surprised to see that Han glanced over at him, frowning, before responding. “I’d like to check the place and make sure that…well, I mean, can’t a guy protect his investment? I want to see the money loaded myself.”

  “Fine. Anything to get you moving faster,” Leia said, hitting the button for the hatch. For a moment, Luke was afraid she’d jump down into the mud just to get away from the captain, instead of waiting for the boarding ramp to deploy.

  “Have we arrived, Master Luke?” Threepio shuffled up behind him, Artoo repeating the question in a low pattern of beeps.

  “We sure have,” Luke said, resting a hand on Artoo’s domed head and looking down at the little droid. “Didn’t think you’d make it, did you?”

  “Safe haven at last!” Threepio cried.

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Han muttered, waving Luke and the droids forward. “These temples look one strong gust of wind away from crumbling into dust.”

  And Han thought Luke was overly critical? Luke stepped out of the cool, temperature-controlled ship and into a wall of moisture and heat. The air actually clung to his skin, climbing up his arms and neck like the thick green vines on the temples. By the time he made it down the ramp, his tunic was sticking to his shoulders and back, as if he’d run a mile under a scorching sun.

  “Makes you miss the dry heat back home, huh?” Han said.

  “No,” Luke said. “I’d never miss that place. Not for anything.”

  Two transport speeders were parked a short distance from the ship. At the sight of Leia striding toward them, a man jumped out. “Your Highness! Thank the heavens!”

  “It’s good to see you,” Leia said, when Luke and the others had caught up, “but time is of the essence. We need to download the information off that astromech droid. Where’s Commander Willard?”

  “Waiting for you inside the Great Temple.”

  The second transport speeder bucked slightly under their combined weight, but they all managed to squeeze in. Wedged between Han and the furry mountain that was Chewbacca, Luke had to lean way back to see the jungle as it streamed by in shades of lush green. Flowers bloomed in every color, dripping from the trees, carpeting the ground. Every one of them seemed to strain out of the shade of the trees, toward the sunlight filtering through the dense canopy. The chirping of bugs and—oh, wow, birds! Birds that were singing rather than just picking the meat off old bantha carcasses. Were there other animals up in the trees? Luke had the unsettling feeling they were being watched, but it might have just been the guards stationed up on the platforms poking out of the jungle.

  Instead of stopping at the base of the crumbling stairs leading up into the Great Temple, their driver brought them around back, to where a long hangar door had been installed. Luke slid out of the seat, crossing his arms over his chest to hide how much his hands were shaking. Play it cool….Play it cool….

  The damp heat was just as smothering inside the hangar as outside, but there was so much more to distract him from it. Sparks showered down from fighter ships as technicians worked on them. Pilots milled around in orange jumpsuits. There were droids everywhere. Between the metallic banging of ships being hammered back into their proper shapes and engines being tested, Luke couldn’t hear himself think. The smell of oil and gas was everywhere, filling his chest.

  He loved it.

  It was everything he had pictured, and still it was also somehow more. Now Luke had to keep his arms crossed over his chest just to stop himself from bolting over to the cluster of men and women in orange jumpsuits, weaving through the towering fighter ships. They were incredible pieces of work, and that they’d clearly been banged up a bit in past fights only made them more beautiful in Luke’s eyes.

  That one, he thought, passing a ship with a long body and four laser cannons mounted on its wings. That one’s going to be mine.

  Ben was right. There had to be some kind of bigger force at work, guiding his life. Because if he’d gone off and entered the Academy, he wouldn’t be there now, and where he was—that felt right.

  “Nice collection of tech you’ve got here, Princess,” Han said. “Anything that wasn’t built before you were born?”

  Leia spun on her heel, her eyes flashing again as she rounded on Han. Luke whirled to face him in disbelief. Was he blind? The place was incredible! The energy in the hangar alone could have powered an entire fleet.

  “You’re so high on yourself and that hunk of junk you call a ship that you’ll never understand that every victory we’ve had is due to the hearts of our pilots and their support on the ground,” Leia said coldly. Han stood head and shoulders over her, but he might as well have been facing down a Star Destroyer. She somehow made herself seem that big, that terrifying.

  Han stared at her in shock. “If all you have to stand up against the planet-blasting battle station are a bunch of bleeding hearts, you guys are in more trouble than I thought.”

  “Leia! Princess Leia!”

  Whatever response was on the tip of Leia’s tongue fell away when she heard her name. A middle-aged man with graying hair rushed up to them, his tan coat flying out behind him. Luke cast a covert eye over the man, trying to figure out his rank. Leia filled in the blank.

  “Commander Willard!” Leia threw her arms around him. The man looked momentarily overcome with emotion.

  “When we heard about Alderaan, we were afraid that you were…lost, along with your father,” he said. “How are you holding up?”

  “We don’t have time for our sorrows, Commander,” Leia said, pulling away from the circle of his arms. “I have no doubt the Empire is tracking us here.”

  He nodded grimly as he looked among Han, Chewbacca, and Luke. “Is General Kenobi with you? Your father mentioned you’d seek him out after intercepting the plans.”

  Luke looked down at the mud-splattered toes of his boots, swallowing something hard and painful in his throat. Was it always going to be like that? Someone would just say Ben’s name and it would feel like a punch to his throat?

  Han clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Luke barely felt it.

  He should be here, too, Luke thought, glancing around him again. Ben would have been thrilled to see everyone working together. He was the one they really needed, not some young rookie dazzled by the sight of repair droids.

  “General Kenobi was killed, Commander,” Leia said, glancing at Luke. “He bravely sacrificed his life so we could escape the Death Star.”

  Chewbacca made a small mournful noise.

  “The Death Star?” Commander Willard repeated. “They held you there?”

  She nodded. “We’ll be able to give you our observations of what we saw inside, but the important thing is that the technical readouts are on this R2 unit. We need to have the technicians download it so we can start analyzing it immediately. It might be our only chance of defending ourselves when the Death Star comes into Yavin 4’s orbit.”

  It was like Leia had dropped Commander Willard in the middle of a sandstorm. He suddenly looked very
lost and more than a little afraid. Luke would have felt sorry for him if it hadn’t been so obvious they were unprepared. Yes, they had ships. And pilots, too, by the look of it. All they seemed to be lacking was faith.

  “We’re badly unprepared for battle, Your Highness. Perhaps we should evacuate instead? Here—” Commander Willard motioned to two nearby technicians. “Take this droid into the command center and download any information he has about the Death Star.”

  The two women accompanied the droid away as Commander Willard led the group farther into the temple. Luke was jostled as streams of Rebels pushed up and down the hall around them, all of them in a hurry to get somewhere. He wanted to go where they were going. He wanted to get to work and stop standing around, arguing.

  “There isn’t time,” Leia said. “Commander, if we fail to stop the Death Star now, other planets will be annihilated.”

  “I understand that, but we’re short staffed on pilots, trained or otherwise.”

  Leia looked right at Luke. “Well, you have at least one more right here,” she said, motioning toward him.

  Luke was so shocked at how quickly the topic had come up, he almost choked on his own spit. He practically shouted, “Yes! I can fly!”

  “A crop duster, maybe,” Han scoffed, “but one of these snub fighters?”

  Luke turned toward Han, glaring. So, what? The fight against the TIE fighters hadn’t proven he could handle himself in battle? Or that he was at least a fast learner? Luke knew the hardest part of getting in the cockpit would be convincing everyone else he was ready for it, but for some reason he’d expected Han to believe in him.

  Chewbacca shoved at Han’s shoulder, but the captain ignored it.

  “He’s fast on his feet and has amazing reflexes,” Leia insisted. “He mounted the rescue for me in a matter of moments—and…” She turned back to Luke. “You got us across that bridge without blinking an eye, remember?”

  Luke ducked his head, trying to hide the flush spreading across his face. While they were on the Death Star, after they had been separated from Han, he’d managed to lead Leia right into some kind of large airshaft. The bridge had already been retracted, the controls blasted out by laser rifle fire, creating a distance between the two doors that was too far to jump. Luke had hooked some of the rope from his utility belt on to one of the rafters, said a little prayer, and swung them both across.