by Claudia Gray
He stood in front of a mirror, wearing a traditional Pijali court tunic and trousers, complete with cape. Alderaanian shimmersilk, brand-new. Plain black except for the lining of the cape, which was a vivid cerulean blue. The WA-2G droid had even shaved his face, cut and styled his hair.
I look ridiculous, Rael thought as he studied his reflection. At least, that was what he’d expected to think. Planned to think.
“Am I nuts,” he asked the WA-2G, “or do I look great?”
“The terms are not mutually exclusive.”
Rael laughed. I just got burned by a droid. Today’s gonna be fun.
As long as the damn blackguards keep their distance…
* * *
—
“Here, Your Serene Highness.”
Princess Fanry held out her arm as Cady placed the thick cuff bracelet on her arm. During the ceremony, of course, it would be out of sight, beneath the long sleeve of the white dress she wore. The underdress, revealed only through a few slashes of the skirt, was such a dark blue it might as well have been black.
“Thank you, Cady,” Fanry murmured. She put one hand to her curly red hair, which tumbled freely down her back. “Does this look all right? It just seems so…peculiar, without the scarf.”
“It’s like any other change,” Cady said. “It takes time to get used to it.”
Fanry nodded, squaring her shoulders more like a soldier than a princess. “Today changes everything.”
* * *
—
Obi-Wan was grateful to be spared any kind of ceremonial finery. Being a Jedi was enough.
Even an apprentice Jedi would do.
He had left their quarters early in the hope of examining the Celestial Chalice, but the royal guards had sealed the area long before. “I’m sorry, sir,” said the one who stood before the inner doors in his crisp formal uniform. “It’s off limits, even to you. Captain Deren’s orders.”
As he walked away, Obi-Wan murmured, “That’s just what I’m afraid of.”
* * *
—
Qui-Gon sat on the floor of his bedroom, attempting to meditate. Calm eluded him.
Let me be wrong, he thought. Let my dream have been no more than a dream. Let the prophecies become mere metaphors once again.
I would rather protect this planet, these people, my Padawan, than be granted any glimpse into any future.
But it wasn’t a choice he got to make. Events today would unfold as the Force willed. Qui-Gon could only make himself ready to answer, no matter what he might be called on to do.
* * *
—
Two hours later, Qui-Gon prepared to enter the Celestial Chalice as part of the most honored set of guests. Minister Orth tottered up only moments after him; her narrow-skirted brown dress required her to take many tiny, quick steps. She peered at him. “I’d halfway wondered whether I’d saved your seat in vain. Whether you’d boycott the ceremony in the end. Or are you no longer imagining terrible visions?”
“My vision remains with me,” he said gravely. “That’s why I must be here. To help in whatever way I can.”
“Hmmph.” Unimpressed, she took her place by his side. In front of him, meanwhile, was a stranger in black—
Qui-Gon stared. “Rael?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t make a scene,” said the impeccably groomed, beautifully clothed person standing before him, who somehow was Rael Averross. “It’s for the coronation, the end.”
“My word.” Minister Orth took off her pince-nez, blinked hard, then put it back on to look through it again. “Averross, you actually look handsome.”
“The servants said that, too. Some of the droids. A couple of guards.” Rael scowled. “That’s being repeated a little too often, with a little too much surprise.”
Qui-Gon managed to smile, but his astonishment had only momentarily lifted the dread. Already its weight was settling on him again.
When the vision begins to unfold, he told himself, be ready.
You’re exactly where you need to be.
Music began to play, and the royal guests began their procession through the grand radius of the Celestial Chalice. Sunlight filtered through the glass-domed ceiling, making all the gilding sparkle. Even the drab gray and brown robes of the Pijali seemed beautiful—subtle, gentle—and the light caught the few touches of red, gold, and violet revealed in collars or at hems.
Qui-Gon took his seat behind Rael. He was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one who’d brought his lightsaber. Rael might think of it more as a ceremonial weapon today, but when action was called for, surely he would stand by Qui-Gon’s side.
The door of the far radius opened, and in from the grounds walked the religious leader called the Skykeeper, the crown jeweler with a wooden box in her hands, and Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon felt a moment of pride in Obi-Wan’s calm composure; he carried himself as though he’d always represented the Republic. As though he had no inkling he might be walking into mortal danger.
Let me be wrong, Qui-Gon thought again. Please let me be wrong.
Finally the music came to a crescendo, and Princess Fanry began her walk along the far radius, up to the dais. Her white dress wasn’t that different from her usual court attire, but it hardly mattered. Qui-Gon suspected most guests were staring at her newly revealed hair, by far the brightest color in the room.
He, however, was far more interested in the fact that the person escorting Fanry to the dais was Captain Deren.
Deren’s in position to strike, Qui-Gon thought. He could kill Fanry or Obi-Wan or both, faster than I could defend them.
But there was still no proof Deren was the traitor. Qui-Gon looked sideways at Minister Orth, who seemed very proud of herself. Hadn’t she been sneaking around the Celestial Chalice late at night, the same evening he’d had his prophetic dream? Orth was older, apparently unarmed, and wearing a dress that hardly allowed her to walk, much less fight. But who could say how many forces she might have behind her?
Somewhat farther away sat Meritt Col, sector supervisor, haughty and elegant in white. Since Fanry’s power would only enhance Czerka’s power, Col could have no reason to attack the princess. But he couldn’t be certain the vision showed an attack on Princess Fanry. It was an attack, and Fanry was there, but perhaps the violence was aimed at someone else, like Deren—or Obi-Wan—
The Skykeeper began. “In days of old, we Pijali traveled to outer space to feel the effortless embrace of the spirits. Now our crown princess is giving us a new way to reach the stars. Through her wisdom, through the changes she brings, she will connect us with the greater galaxy as never before.”
Fanry stepped forward to accept a ceremonial sword from the Skykeeper and hold it aloft, then motioned for Deren and Obi-Wan to join her in the center of the dais. She was unafraid.
“Will you,” the Skykeeper said, “wield this blade to defend Pijal, to protect it from its enemies, to preserve its independence?”
“Yes,” Fanry said. “I will.”
Qui-Gon kept his eyes fixed on Deren—
—which was why he almost missed the moment that Princess Fanry stabbed the Skykeeper.
“Now, Deren!” she cried. He pressed something at his belt that sealed the dais in the golden-orange flickering light—shielding it, Qui-Gon realized—as screams and shouts of dismay filled the room. Obi-Wan moved to help the Skykeeper, but froze when Deren pointed a blaster at his head.
The blood, Qui-Gon thought. The screams. The light filtering from above. It’s all happening.
My vision was true.
Never had it been so bitter to be right.
“Fanry?” Rael got to his feet slowly, as though in shock. “Fanry!”
“Hear me!” Fanry shouted, and the crowd quieted. The Skykeeper had sunk to his knees, badly wounded but alive. “They would have me
sign a treaty that gives away my power. My regent and Czerka Corporation wanted nothing but profit. This treaty”—she spat the word as though it tasted bad—“would deny me the ability to do what I should, for Pijal. I wouldn’t be able to throw Czerka out. But I will not sign the treaty. I will not give away my power. And I will be avenged on those who would have made change impossible, because they would have destroyed us.”
Rael staggered to one side. Qui-Gon grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him forward. “Faint later. First help me save them.”
But what could they do? Qui-Gon had realized, by now, that the dais had to be surrounded by one of the blackguard shields, the ones their lightsabers would be useless against. No doubt this was the moment the shields had been designed for in the first place. As he pushed forward through the panicky crowd, he saw Fanry activate a personal shield of her own via a bracelet hidden under her sleeve. Deren’s shield was on already. Only the Skykeeper, the jeweler, and Obi-Wan were unprotected.
Focus on what you can do, instead of what you can’t. Qui-Gon turned to Rael. “Go find loyal guards, if you can. Get them to close the airspace above the Celestial Chalice!” It took Rael a moment to obey, but he pulled himself together and ran for the far door.
“Czerka Corporation will own Pijal no more!” Fanry shouted, motioning to Deren. Qui-Gon spotted Meritt Col trying to sneak farther back in the crowd only an instant before Deren fired at her. Col went down amid more screams. Obi-Wan tried to take advantage of the moment when Deren’s weapon was pointed elsewhere, but almost instantly Deren had him in his sights again.
“Princess Fanry, please, wait!” Orth tottered forward through the ozone scent of blasterfire with a courage that made Qui-Gon reevaluate her. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re hardly more than a child—”
“A child?” The princess’s voice rose almost to a shriek. “There are queens my age on Naboo! Princes my age on Toydaria! Alderaan’s queen took Princess Breha to help her negotiate a treaty, and she’s younger than I am! And I’ve seen how Czerka’s strangling Pijal when my elders haven’t. Don’t lecture me about being ‘a child.’ ” Fanry collected herself. “You’re honest, Minister Orth. For that reason I spare you. But doubt me no longer.”
Qui-Gon breathed in. Breathed out. Drank in what calm he could. Connected himself as fully as possible to the Force. Then he examined the room with fresh eyes. Security alarms ought to have been blinking frantically, but they remained silent. No doubt Captain Deren had deactivated them. No troops had yet entered this room, despite the fact that they were massed outside; that meant the army must be loyal to Fanry, or at least to Deren. And the sunlight overhead no longer streamed through, but had become spotty, as though the sky were filling with clouds or…
“You’ve taken bribes from Czerka for years,” Fanry said to the fallen Skykeeper. “Let them use sacred docks that should be reserved for the soulcraft.”
The Skykeeper clutched his bloody shoulder. “Your Serene Highness—I—”
“Keep your lies to yourself,” Fanry said, turning from him to the shivering court jeweler. “Oh, honestly. Calm down. You’re fine.”
The jeweler continued trembling as Fanry opened the box, took out a small circlet, and put it on her own head.
Qui-Gon worked his way closer to the dais, pushing through the throngs of people rushing out. Yet a large part of the crowd remained, watching out of either morbid fascination or perhaps even support for Fanry. He tried to catch Obi-Wan’s gaze, but his Padawan remained focused on Deren, clearly hoping for one more chance to defend himself.
It didn’t look like he would get one.
I must try, Qui-Gon thought. He leapt forward, igniting his lightsaber. The instant his feet hit the ground, he swung his weapon into the glowing perimeter of the shield. Green blade crackled against orange light, reverberating so hard that the bones in his arms and shoulders seemed to shudder. The lightsaber was useless.
“Jedi Jinn.” Fanry half turned to look at him. “You alone argued against the treaty. You alone refused to sit tamely at Czerka’s feet. Therefore you will be spared.”
Karabast. If I’d been the one on the dais instead of Obi-Wan, he’d be safe. Instead—
“But you.” The princess—or, now that she wore the crown, the queen—craned her neck back toward Obi-Wan. “You supported this evil treaty. You thought to make me sign it. There will be no mercy for you.”
“Fanry, no!” Qui-Gon shouted.
She gestured to Deren. The captain grimaced—in horror, Qui-Gon realized—but he said only, “As my queen wishes it.”
The rest happened in what most humans would have seen only as a blur, which only Qui-Gon’s focus through the Force allowed him to witness clearly: Deren raised the blaster. Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber, even if it would do no good—
—his lightsaber was no longer blue, but orange—
—and when he swung it, the blade easily passed through Deren’s shield.
Into Deren.
The captain gasped in pain, then crumpled backward to the floor, moaning as he clutched his bleeding abdomen. Fanry shrieked. Obi-Wan wheeled about to again put himself between the sword-wielding queen and the wounded Skykeeper. Qui-Gon tried to understand what had taken place. What happened to Obi-Wan’s lightsaber?
Overhead, the glass panes that formed the dome of the Celestial Chalice began to retract. The gathering shadows proved themselves to be troopships of the royal guard, hovering overhead. Someone cried, “Your Majesty, the shield generator!” Qui-Gon realized it had been Cady—who seemed to have known about this all along.
Queen Fanry grabbed a small device from Deren’s belt, only a moment before cables dropped from the troopships snaked down into the Chalice. Cady grabbed one; Fanry seized another. Qui-Gon considered taking a third, but the soldiers would sever his line before they’d let him ascend to the top.
“Farewell, Deren.” Fanry looped the cable’s harness around her body. She and Obi-Wan stared at each other for a long moment, before she was hauled upward. The shield! Qui-Gon thought, afraid its border would slice through Obi-Wan—but the generator proved to be compact. The orange shield faded as Fanry took it with her upward, out of range, beyond the roof of the Chalice. Cady rose just beside her, on her own cable.
Everyone in the Chalice stared upward except for Qui-Gon, who hurried to his apprentice’s side. Obi-Wan kept staring at his orange lightsaber until he turned to his Master and said, “What the—?”
“It’s a revolution from the top,” Qui-Gon replied. “Rael thought he was defending Fanry. Czerka thought they were manipulating her. But she was more than they counted on.”
“But what does Fanry intend to do now?” Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to focus.
“We’re about to find out,” Qui-Gon said.
Until a few moments earlier, the flagship of the royal fleet had been known as the Heavenly Sphere. As of today, by Queen Fanry’s order, it was called the Righteous.
As she strode through the ship’s corridors, strapping on an armorweave breastplate over her now-stained white gown, she called out, “Who’s in command of the Leverage? Who’s taking over now that Col’s dead?”
Cady had already changed into a blackguard uniform. A line across her left hand showed where the 2-1B had freed her permanently of Czerka, just minutes before. She was alight with triumph, even happier about this than Fanry was herself. “I regret to inform Her Majesty that Meritt Col survived the ceremony.”
“What?” The one person Fanry most wanted dead, the most corrupt and soulless of them all, had slithered free of the trap. When she realized what had happened, she swore. “Deren. He spared her, didn’t he?”
“He was a good man,” Cady replied. “He just didn’t understand that these Czerka scum have to die.”
“But we do.” Fanry strode toward the bridge of the Righteous. She
had studied all her life to be a ruler, had been preparing for this moment for years. Averross had only seen a child when he looked at her, but that was because he only ever really saw Nim Pianna. Fanry could pity that poor wretch, the girl she’d never met, but knew she would not share Nim’s fate.
No, she had at last fulfilled her destiny and become the only thing she ever aspired to be: the warrior queen.
* * *
—
Rael Averross had let Obi-Wan Kenobi guide him onto the Corellian corvette. It didn’t seem to much matter where he went, or what he did.
Fanry—why? He tried to imagine asking her, but the scene refused to take shape in his head. Averross could no longer see the clever, funny little girl he’d known…or thought he’d known. Instead, when he spoke the words in his mind, the person listening was the angry, contemptuous young woman who had today seized absolute power.
“Padawan,” Qui-Gon was saying to Obi-Wan as they all walked onto the corvette’s bridge, “what happened to your lightsaber?”
“I’m not sure.” Obi-Wan unscrewed the components of his lightsaber. To everybody’s astonishment, this revealed an orange kohlen crystal where the kyber crystal ought to have been.
“How is this possible?” Qui-Gon asked.
“It has to be—” Obi-Wan’s expression became thoughtful. “A few days ago, Fanry asked to know how a lightsaber worked, and I showed her. Deren told me before the run-through last night that no weapons were allowed in the Chalice until the ceremony itself, so I left my lightsaber in the hall outside. Then someone sabotaged it—or meant to.”
“The weight,” Averross said dully. “They stole your kyber crystal and replaced it with kohlen so it would stay the same weight, and keep you from catchin’ on.”
Slowly Qui-Gon began to smile. “Fanry and Deren thought the kohlen crystals were useless, except as a way to fool Obi-Wan. But the crystals were able to project a sort of blade, even if it was less powerful—except, that is, against shields also powered by kohlen.”