by Claudia Gray
Leia had never had to hire her own ship before, but she figured it couldn’t be that difficult. What she didn’t realize was that she’d never tried to do much of anything without presenting herself as the crown princess of Alderaan, and just how much easier it was for a princess to get things done.
“A freighter?” barked a Loneran pilot. “A little scrap of a thing like you? What are you hauling?”
Leia wondered wildly whether she ought to come up with some kind of cargo to bring along, but how could she do that in time? “Ah, just me.”
The Loneran’s fur raised in consternation. “To Pamarthe, you said?”
“Right.” It was the first heavily trafficked but remote layover she’d been able to think of.
But she’d chosen poorly, because the Loneran said, “So take a passenger ship and save yourself the credits.”
“I need to get there as soon as possible—”
“Passenger ship won’t take you half a day longer.” The Loneran patted her on the head. “Now, hurry along, pup.”
How old does he think I am? Eight? As the Loneran loped away, Leia glanced around the busy spaceport in search of another freighter that looked small enough to be of use to her. Hiring one sounded so easy, but in practice, getting a ship to take off within a brief time span, without questions, could be a challenge. Three pilots had turned her down so far; she’d also hurried after one YT-model ship that had looked promisingly run-down and probably in need of money for repairs, but it took off before she could even reach it.
Spotting another ungainly, patched-together ship across the hangar, Leia headed toward it. As she pushed through the crowd, ducking around a group of Arconas and an enormous, scowling Crolute, she tried to come up with a better cover story. I’m eloping, and my parents are after me! No, because someone would sensibly ask why she was eloping all alone. My grandmother on Pamarthe is incredibly sick, and I need to get to her right away! That might do.
Leia ran up to the ship, then stopped short when she saw not one but two people she knew standing in front of it, arguing.
“Excuse me,” Chassellon Stevis said, “but if I don’t get to the auction on Arkanis in time, someone’s going to snap that speeder up. Do you know how rarely this model comes available?”
“Rarity is an illusion, because every person and object in the galaxy is in some way unique.” Amilyn Holdo—her hair still brilliantly colored, but her clothing a simple traveling coverall—smiled benevolently at him. “Anyway, I’m signed up for the meditation retreat at home, and it’s starting tomorrow.”
Chassellon’s hands stiffened, as if he wanted to physically shake sense into Amilyn. “You could take a passenger ship!”
For her part, Amilyn folded her long arms across her chest and dug in. “I could, if I hadn’t already hired the Moa, which I have. Oh, hi, Leia!”
Leia blurted out, “I need this ship.”
“Oh, come on.” Chassellon stared skyward, perhaps asking for help from gods who didn’t answer. “You’re a bloody princess! You can get whatever ship you want!”
But Amilyn had seen something in Leia that she recognized, maybe from their journey to Ocahont. She brought her hands together, closed her eyes, and said, “All right.”
Chassellon’s eyes widened with anger—Leia didn’t entirely blame him—but then he, too, seemed to glimpse the genuine fear and need she felt. He took a deep breath, adjusted the collar of his violet jacket, and spoke with better grace than she’d known he had. “Fine, then. Take the ship.”
Leia was taking a risk saying even this much, but she had to: “Chassellon, please, don’t tell anyone you saw me.”
Although he clearly didn’t understand why she was asking, he must’ve known it was important. His voice was solemn as he said, “Not a word. Not a soul.” With that he walked off, never glancing back.
“Sometimes people surprise you,” Amilyn said. “By the way, this trip that has to happen in such a hurry—are we talking about things we don’t talk about?”
It took Leia a second to parse that. “Yeah. We are. And I have to go.”
“You mean we have to go.” When Leia stared at her, Amilyn shrugged. “I did hire the ship. Plus I already know all the stuff I can’t know.”
I’m definitely getting better at translating Holdo-speak, because that made complete sense to me. Leia wanted to protest that Amilyn didn’t know everything, and for her own good shouldn’t—but in truth, what Amilyn had already learned was undoubtedly more than enough to destroy her if the Empire found them out. The best way to keep the Empire from finding them out was to leave immediately, without any further arguing.
There were other advantages too. “It might be better if the ship were hired in your name,” Leia admitted.
“So let’s go.” Amilyn pulled Leia up the gangway. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“Pamarthe again.”
Amilyn smiled as easily as if they were on a pleasure cruise and called, “Brill? Slight change of destination! As in, we’re headed to a completely different planet!”
Leia had wished to see one of the famous storms of Pamarthe. Of all her wishes, the Force picked that one to come true, and at the worst possible time.
The Moa set them down in the middle of storms both terrestrial and celestial: while the sea around their port island churned black beneath a darkening sky, the auroras flared pink and green overhead, testifying to solar storms that would disrupt many ships’ sensors.
Why did it have to be Pamarthe? Leia asked herself as she and Amilyn disembarked from their freighter, its Ithorian crewmember waving goodbye as the Moa drew its ramp up again. I could’ve chosen any planet in the galaxy, and I had to pick the one that’s about to shut down all space traffic.
Even Amilyn’s daffy good spirits wilted at the sight of it. “Normally being marooned here would be frightening in a very good way, but right now it’s frightening in a bad way, isn’t it?”
“The worst.” Leia kept imagining her father’s face, which shifted in her mind from moment to moment. First she’d see him warm and loving, as he’d been when they spoke in the library—but then she’d recall his fury at their last meeting. Would that be her final memory of her father? Please, not that. Let me have one more chance to make things right with him. “They say the Pamarthe pilots aren’t scared of anything. Let’s hope that’s true.”
Unfortunately it turned out that Pamarthens were afraid of exactly one thing: losing their beloved ships. After the first three refusals, Leia wanted to hurl herself down and have a tantrum on the ground like a child. She took a few deep breaths, trying to channel her anger in better directions, and then heard Amilyn say, “What about those…giant hairy-frog guys?”
Turning in the direction of Amilyn’s pointing finger, she saw a squat group of creatures waddling onto their low, flat ship, and gasped with new hope. “The Chalhuddans!”
“Who?”
“I’ll explain later. For now, let me do the talking.”
Leia dashed toward the Chalhuddan vessel, a wide smile on her face—but when they noticed her approach, it was obvious these Chalhuddans had no idea who she was, because they scowled, shuffled, and averted their gazes. No doubt she didn’t look that impressive, a wild-eyed teenage girl in nondescript clothing. 2V’s admonishments rung in her memory: A princess is known in part through the grandeur of her attire!
“Points to TooVee,” Leia muttered.
As she and Amilyn came up to them, the largest of the Chalhuddans pointedly turned his back. “We need no drylander assistance,” they mumbled, “and we give none.”
Amilyn piped up: “It’s paying work. Well-paying work! She’s a princess—” Her face fell as she took in Leia’s disheveled appearance, and feebly she added, “Really.”
This wasn’t the way to impress the Chalhuddans, who only harrumphed and turned aside. Leia stepped into the center of their group, lifted her chin, and demanded, “You’ll put me in contact with Occo Quentto, immediately.”
They stared at her. One of them scoffed, a gruff and discouraging sound, but the others exchanged uncertain glances. The mere fact that she knew their leader’s name had probably startled them into paying attention.
“You heard me,” Leia continued, with all the regal chill she could muster, which was a lot. “Now.”
Within a few minutes, she sat within the humid Chalhuddan ship, wiping sweat from her brow, as the sepia-tinted holo flickered to life. “You are the princess,” Occo said, which was their version of a pleasant hello.
“Yes, I am.” She kept her face impassive and her tone demanding. “You owe me a favor, Occo Quentto, and you will repay it today.”
The large air sac beneath Occo’s chin puffed up, then deflated again. “This favor is owed. What do you demand?”
“Immediate passage to Paucris Major for myself and one companion.”
Occo nodded. “Then it shall be so.”
Without any further order or persuasion, the Chalhuddans began waddling off to make ready for the journey. As badly as Leia needed this, however, she knew it would be unfair not to say more. “Honored leader, you must hear more of the truth behind the journey.”
Occo’s enormous, wide-lipped mouth pursed in a frown. “The favor was asked. The favor will be given.”
“Your favor will be far greater than mine,” Leia said. “And more dangerous. It’s unfair to your people for me to hold you to this without explaining more.”
“What explanation can come between the Chalhuddans and their owed duty?” Occo shifted from flipper to flipper, restless with distrust of land creatures. “You dishonor us by doubting us.”
Leia bowed her head more humbly than she would’ve to the Emperor himself and shifted into formal speech. “You doubt me, honored leader, by not hearing what I say.”
One deep, exasperated croak, and then Occo said, “We will hear.”
“By traveling to this system, your brave pilots put their lives in danger. The Imperial Starfleet will soon travel to Paucris Major with the goal of eradicating everyone they find. The people there are my people, and I must save them even if it means my life. Yet I cannot transfer that responsibility onto your people without letting them, and you, know precisely what they face. Now it is known.”
Occo Quentto blinked their protruding eyes, and the air sac inflated thoughtfully. Leia wondered if she’d just been so honorable she’d lost a ship—maybe even a war.
Then Occo said, “The greater the favor asked, the greater the honor. This ship will take you to the Paucris system, where you will be met by all other Chalhuddan ships in the sector. No more than four or five can we offer, but you will be transported and guarded to the best of our ability.”
“That is more than recompense for my favor, Occo Quentto.” Leia folded her hands above her heart, hoping the Chalhuddans’ circulatory organ was located somewhere analogous. “Afterward I will again be in your debt.”
“And so we will ask another favor of you someday.” Occo’s broad face creased in an expression that she thought might be their version of a smile. “Now you understand us.”
As the holo blinked out, Amilyn said, “I hoped for some experience with the nearness of mortality, but I have to say, I’m getting quite a lot of it.” Leia turned to her, ready to suggest Amilyn stay behind here with Mon Mothma’s credit solid, but her friend was grinning. “This is fantastic.”
Chalhuddan ships were armed—not heavily, but still. She’d managed to put together her own tiny war fleet. As pleased as she wanted to be with that, when she imagined them facing an Imperial Star Destroyer—
Leia shuddered. Let the Force guide us there first, she thought. Hang on, Dad. I’m coming.
“Paucris system in three,” said the Chalhuddan pilot, squatting in their bowl-shaped chair. Leia and Amilyn—who had in the past hour learned a lot about the greater tolerance Chalhuddans had for shock waves—immediately clambered up into the jump seat and strapped themselves into a safety harness. (If the two of them shared a harness and pulled its straps as tight as possible, it more or less worked.)
Amilyn blew aside a purple lock of her hair that had tumbled into her face so that she could meet Leia’s eyes. There was no hint of her usual whimsy as she said, “What do we do if the Empire’s already here?”
“Get out before they see us, if we can.” The chances weren’t good, but they weren’t impossible; Leia doubted a droid could’ve gone over the odds more times than she had during this trip. “If not, we surrender right away. We plead ignorance, and we make it absolutely clear that we hired the Chalhuddans, who know even less than we do.”
She didn’t think it would save the Chalhuddans, but again—it was a chance. If they had even once chance in a thousand to make it through this, she owed them that.
“Plead ignorance,” Amilyn repeated. “Right. I think I could be good at that.”
“For our sakes, I hope so.”
Leia wasn’t optimistic. She figured whatever doubt she was able to instill in her questioners’ minds would vanish the instant Grand Moff Tarkin learned of her arrival in the very star system he’d named to her only hours before. Neither Amilyn Holdo nor the Chalhuddans would be able to explain this away.
Either I’m saving the lives of all the rebels in the Paucris system—or I’ve just condemned even more people to die.
When the Chalhuddan pilot pulled a lever, the vivid blue light of hyperspace changed back into a starfield. The entire ship shuddered so strongly Leia accidentally bit her tongue hard enough to bleed. Amilyn’s head knocked against hers so soundly it hurt, but she wasn’t too dazed to keep staring at the viewscreen, eyes wide, torn between hope and dread—
“A fleet of planetary and civilian ships massed around repair structures orbiting Paucris Major,” croaked the Chalhuddan captain. “Our own ships nearby. No Imperial vessels in the system.”
Thank the Force. Leia slumped against Amilyn and exhaled hard. Onscreen, amid the distant cluster of ships, she could make out the distinct lines of the Tantive IV, which had rarely looked so beautiful to her. Amilyn held one fist up in the air in a victory salute.
“Don’t celebrate too soon.” Leia released the safety harness, hopped down from the tall bowl chair, and hurried to the communications console. At her nod, the officer there opened a channel, and she said, “To any vessels picking up this signal, this is Leia Organa of Alderaan calling Bail Organa or any other individual in charge of—anyone in charge. Repeat, this is Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Please respond.”
No answer came. Amilyn said, “Should we fly closer?”
“We’d better not. They may have standing orders to shoot down any unauthorized intruder.” Leia remembered her father’s warning on Crait very well.
The seconds crawled by until her gut had begun to tighten—and then static broke through. “Leia?” She’d never been so glad to hear her father sound absolutely furious. “What are you do—”
“The Empire’s coming,” she said. “Something Tarkin said about this system tipped me off. Mom and Mon Mothma sent me. The ships may already be on their way, and you have to get the fleet out of here, immediately.”
Luckily Bail Organa was a man who knew when a conversation could wait until later. “We’re moving out in ten. Rendezvous with us on the Tantive IV.”
Once the Chalhuddan ships had taken their place among the rebel ships—each of which was being hastily restored to power and crewed with minimal personnel or droids—Leia’s vessel was able to dock with the Tantive IV and allow her to disembark. She expected to feel more relief once she was in familiar surroundings, but they were more familiar than she’d anticipated.
“Hey, there,” Ress Batten said, a rueful smile on her face. “In case you were wondering, no, I wasn’t putting you on the whole time. Captain Antilles brought me into the loop not long ago—in the nick of time for some mortal danger, huh?”
“Lucky you,” said Amilyn from a few paces behind, where she was wandering along, ga
zing at the plain white walls of the ship as though they were miraculous.
Batten frowned in consternation, but there was no time to explain these two to each other, because at the far end of the corridor, separated from her by a few crewmembers and droids dashing around, stood a tall, familiar figure in a blue jacket and cape: her father, alive and whole, as she’d thought she might never see him again.
He caught sight of her at the same instant. “Leia!”
To hell with royal protocol. She ran to him and flung herself into his arms. He hugged her so tightly her toes lifted from the floor for a moment, the way he had when she was a little girl. “I didn’t know if we’d make it in time,” she said. Her face pressed against his jacket muffled her words, but she wouldn’t pull back or let go. Her father could hear her, and that was enough. “I thought we might find you dead.”
“But for you, that might have happened.” Bail Organa’s broad hand cupped her cheek, turning her face up to his. “Instead, we’re going to save this fleet.”
“Did I finally prove myself to you?”
“Leia, no. You never had to do that. I’ve always believed in you, and I always will. If I made you doubt that these past few months, please, forgive me.” The depth of the remorse she heard in his voice made her throat so tight she couldn’t speak. Bail leaned closer and spoke even more intently. “Out of all the many reasons we have to fight, to your mother and me, you have always been the most important one. We want to make a better galaxy for you, a better future. So it’s been hard, realizing that you have to fight too. That we can’t simply save you—that you have to stand by our side.”
She nodded. “I understand. I always did, really. It’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t let myself accept that you were ready for this.” His smile was crooked but proud. “There’s no denying that any longer.”
Leia hugged her father again, grateful that at last they were partners again, that no other division could come between them.
The embrace went on for as much time as they could spare. When Bail released her, he had again focused on the military operation under way; the difference was that he included Leia in his planning. “We’ll be breaking up this portion of the fleet for the time being, until we can arrange a rendezvous at an alternate outpost. Self-destruct sequences were programmed into the repair stations from the start. We’ll activate those before the final convoy departs.”