by Alex Wheeler
"Only you know what Leia is capable of, and what she needs," Obi-Wan said. Again, Ferus wondered if the Jedi Master could penetrate his thoughts. "As I ask for your trust, I give you mine."
Only then did Ferus realize how much he'd been hoping Obi-Wan would tell him what to do. Much as he hated taking orders, this was one decision he'd prefer leaving to someone else.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Hundreds of survivors crowded into the large chamber, their bodies packed together. There was no space large enough for the thousands of Alderaan survivors who would have wanted to attend a memorial. So these six hundred had been drawn by lot. Everyone else would—if they chose—watch a Live Holonet broadcast.
Var Lyonn introduced Leia, then stepped off the podium, joining Han behind the stage. "She's rather magnificent, isn't she?" Lyonn murmured. Han, who didn't trust the man, answered with a terse nod.
But he agreed.
Leia stood before the crowd for several long moments without speaking. Han didn't know how she could stand it, staring out at their miserable faces. He looked away from them, up at the arched ceiling, its ribbons of colored transparisteel showering the room with dancing greens and blues.
"We will never replace what we have lost," Leia said slowly. She spoke softly, but the circling ampdroids carried her voice throughout the chamber. "We can only remember it."
She pressed a button on the podium, and a large viewscreen behind her flickered to life. There, in vibrant, living color, were the Alderaan grass seas. The skies alive with swooping thrantas. The polar sea shimmering with ice.
There were gasps from the audience. A few muffled sobs. And then a solemn silence.
The images were unrelenting: The towering Oro Woods, threaded with glittering rainbow-colored lichen. The imposing Castle Lands, casting their solemn shadow over the surrounding plains. As a lost world flickered behind her, Leia spoke of the beauty of Alderaan and those who lived there. She spoke of the lives lost, never once mentioning the losses she'd personally suffered. That was something she never spoke of, Han had noticed. Publicly, at least, she mourned the destruction of Alderaan as its sovereign—never as a fellow citizen who had lost her family and her home.
"Upon this stage is an empty capsule," Leia told the crowd. "And now I ask you, each of you, to fill it. With your memories and your keepsakes, with gifts for the ones you lost, with symbols and reminders of what you miss the most. There is a home here for each of your memories. And when this capsule is sealed, it will be jettisoned into space. Into the debris field that exists where there should be a planet. I'm told that some call it the Graveyard, but I choose to believe that Alderaan lives on there, not in space, but in spirit. This capsule will do what all of us long to do, and never can. It will return home."
There was a pause, so silent and still that it seemed the room had stopped breathing. And then a young woman in the front row climbed onto the stage. She paused before the empty capsule, her lips moving soundlessly. Then she dropped a small, polished stone inside. Soon she was surrounded by survivors, eager to put something of their own in the capsule. They had come prepared. One by one, perfectly orderly, with frowns and sorry smiles and tears streaming, they filed past. Crowding the stage, the capsule, and when it was over, Leia. Their princess.
Han couldn't stand it. All this raw emotion—it wasn't his thing. "Keep an eye on her, will ya?" he asked Chewbacca, who barked a yes. Han slipped outside, threading through the crowds of those who couldn't fit into the building but still wanted to be near.
Suddenly, Han spotted a familiar-looking mop of greasy hair. He shot out an arm and clamped his hand down on the kid's shoulder. "You!"
It was the punk from the day before, the one who'd tried to scam them out of their credits. His eyes went wide with panic, and he tried to wriggle out of Han's grip, but Han held tight.
The other two boys approached, one obviously terrified, the other doing his best to look fierce. "Let him go," the bolder one ordered.
Han suppressed a grin. "Or what?"
"Or…or…" He obviously couldn't come up with anything.
It was equally obvious he wasn't about to leave his friend behind. Han couldn't help but admire him, thief or not.
He glared at the kid straining against his grip. "If I let you go, you promise not to disappear on me?"
"He doesn't promise anything," the mouthy one said. "You want to turn us in, go ahead. We're not going to help you."
"Why would I want to turn you in?"
"Why wouldn't you? We tried to steal from you."
The kid may have been bold, but he wasn't very bright, not if he was standing here in public admitting to his crimes. Han could have taught him a few things.
If he was in the business of babysitting bothersome little punks, of course.
"For one thing, you may be thieves, but you're not very good thieves," Han said. He smirked. "And for an old man, I know a thing or two about needing to steal."
The kid jerked his head at the one Han was holding onto. The boy immediately stopped squirming. Han let go.
"What do you want?" the boldest one said. "We don't have all day."
Acting like he's in charge, Han thought with a grin. Kid doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut.
"I can get you inside," Han offered. "If you want."
The kids shook their heads.
"But you're here," Han said. "You don't want to see the show?"
"Only here because we got nowhere else to be," the lead kid said. He was a bad liar, but Han let it pass.
"Hungry?" he asked. They shook their heads—but when he offered them the bag of Corellian potato sticks he'd been snacking on, they took it.
"So you're from Alderaan?" he asked.
"From nowhere," the kid said. "Not anymore."
"Come on, Mazi, not today," one of the other boys said.
"Every day, Jez," The one called Mazi scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You ask me, we're better off forgetting the whole thing ever happened. We are from nowhere. Now."
"I can't forget," the third, youngest boy said softly. He kept his eyes on the entrance to the building, as if secretly wishing he could go inside. "I don't want to."
Now that they'd dropped the tough act, Han realized they were younger than he'd thought. The oldest couldn't be more than fifteen, if that. Some might think that was too young to be on your own. Han knew better.
"Go on," Mazi said. "Ask. You know you want to."
Han shrugged. "Maybe I'm like you, kid. I don't want anything."
"He means you can ask us how we ended up here," the smallest one said. "We don't care."
Han did want to know. But not as much, he suspected, as they wanted to tell him. "You got me," he said. "Shoot."
"It was my idea," Mazi said. "Jez and Lan didn't think our parents would agree, but I talked 'em into it."
"Mazi can talk anyone into anything," Lan said, looking at the older boy with something close to worship.
Mazi shrugged, but a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Dad was easy. Like always. But Mom…"
"She thought we were too young to go by ourselves," Jez said. "She worries a lot."
"Worried," Mazi said sharply.
Jez flinched. "Yeah."
"There was a smashball tournament on Delaya," Mazi said in a dead voice. "We got permission to go to the game, stay overnight on our own, then go back to Alderaan in the morning."
Han winced. "But that was the day…"
"Yeah," Mazi snapped. "That was the day. So here we are. On our own." He glared at Han. "Don't think you have to pity us or something. We're fine. We know how to get by. We do what we need to do."
"Yeah," Han said. "I can see that."
"So aren't you going to tell us how everything's going to be okay, blah blah whatever?"
Han pressed his lips together. He leaned back against the wall, tipping his head up to the sky. He'd heard Alderaan had once been close enough that you could see it with the naked eye.
Not in the daytime, of course. Under the bright sun it was easy to imagine that Alderaan was still up there somewhere. But Han didn't believe in lying to himself.
He knew what these kids were in for. He'd been there.
"Kid, if you're lucky, you'll live through it. Nothing I can tell you but that."
I've never known her, Luke thought, watching Leia greet the admiring crowds. Not really.
Watching her preside over the memorial, watching her now console her subjects, Luke realized that this royal bearing was no act. She was still the same Leia that he'd come to know, but she was more than that: A senator. A princess. For the first time, Luke understood these weren't just titles—they were a part of her.
"Luke, this is Kiro Chen," she said now, introducing him to a young man with dark hair and a timid smile. Like the other survivors, his eyes were hooded and rimmed by red. Something about him seemed familiar, though Luke was sure they'd never met. They followed her to a secluded area behind the stage. "He's the one I told you about, who's been working with General Rieekan on recruitment efforts. We couldn't have set up tomorrow's meeting without him."
Luke gave him a terse nod. "So did you know?" he asked. "About the warehouses?"
Kiro's eyes widened. "Of course not! Leia just told me and I'm as horrified as the rest of you."
Luke frowned. "But if you've been here all this time—"
"Drop it, Luke. He's been busy trying to help the Alliance," Leia said, in a tone that defied argument. "You can't blame him for believing Var Lyonn's lies, any more than you can blame me."
It was strange to see Leia so obviously comfortable with a stranger. Usually she was guarded, almost icy, in front of people she didn't know. But obviously Leia trusted this man. Maybe it's because they're both from Alderaan, Luke thought. They share a common pain.
Kiro was an ally, and Leia's ready trust in him shouldn't have bothered Luke.
But it did.
"So it's true!" Halle Dray appeared beside them, as if out of nowhere. Beside her was J'er Nahj and Fess Ilee. "You come here claiming to want to help us, but all you really want are more martyrs for your cause."
Leia looked at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"There are rumors, Your Highness," Nahj said. His voice was gentler, but contained no kindness. "And given that you're here with him—" He glared at Kiro.
"I don't even know you," Kiro said. "Either of you."
"But we know you," Halle said. "And we know what you've been up to."
Nahj looked sorrowfully at Leia. "It's hard to avoid the conclusion that you're recruiting soldiers for your Alliance."
"It's not my Alliance," Leia said, a little of the old fire returning to her voice. "It fights for all of us."
"Not for me," Halle snapped. "The Alderaan of my youth rejected fighting. It outlawed weapons, turned away from violence—until the blood-thirsty Organa family sucked it into a war it could never win."
"That's not how it happened!" Luke protested.
Halle turned the full power of her glare on him. "Stay out of things that don't concern you," she said in a low, dangerous voice. "Especially when you don't know what you're talking about."
"I know—"
"Luke!" Leia quieted him with a look. "It's fine."
"Her Highness only wants what is best for us," Kiro said. "We're all on the same side here. She's not your enemy."
"Alderaan had no enemies before her," Halle hissed. "Now we have no Alderaan. Call it what you want, but that's no coincidence."
Leia stayed silent. It was unlike her, refusing to defend herself in the face of such an attack.
"The Empire is an enemy to all of us, including Alderaan," Kiro argued. "And it's our duty to fight back."
"Yes, I've heard that's your line," Halle sneered. "I've been looking forward to meeting this Kiro Chen I've heard so much about, the one who delights in leading our people to the slaughter. There's something I've been wanting to say to you."
She slapped his face. Then walked away.
Kiro rubbed his hand across his cheek, where Halle's hand had left an angry red mark. "She's upset," he said, almost to himself. "She doesn't know what she's saying."
"We're all upset," Nahj said. He spoke softly, but his eyes were angry. "When you promised to help us in any way you could, Your Highness, I didn't realize that meant sending us off to die at the hands of the Empire."
"Every Rebel is a volunteer," Leia said. "Every man and woman here is free to choose."
Luke shot her a sharp look. She was coming dangerously close to admitting that Halle and Nahj were right, that she was recruiting for the Rebel Alliance. It was a dangerous slip. And that wasn't like her, either.
"You're their leader," Nahj snapped. "They do as you ask."
Their leader, Luke noted, not our.
Leia whipped her gaze toward Fess. "Does he speak for you, too?"
"I speak for myself," Fess said.
It was odd. Luke had heard Leia's stories about Fess's buffoonery and empty-headedness. But the stories didn't match the man.
"You take danger upon yourself so easily," Fess said, "and the fight is all you need to sustain you. So it's understandably difficult for you to understand that these people here don't need a fight: They need food. Bacta. Blankets. You're offering them a war. That's no substitute for a home."
"I'm offering them a reason to live," Leia shot back. "The Alliance gives me a reason to go forward. Everyone should have that chance."
"Not everyone's like you," Fess pointed out. "Some people just want to live in peace."
Luke flashed back to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru's broken bodies. They'd never wanted to fight anyone. But the Empire hadn't cared.
"Not everyone's like you, either," Leia said, her face white with rage. "Not everyone's so craven and weak. So useless."
Fess opened his mouth—then shut it again. He turned to Nahj. "I think it's best if I go."
Nahj nodded. "I'll go with you." He extended a hand to Leia. "You made me a promise, Your Highness. I hope you do not forget it."
"I've promised to defeat the Empire," Leia said. "And nothing's more important than that."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"You're late," Halle Dray snarled, barring the door. "You're sure no one followed you?"
Ferus nodded. "Why do you think I'm late?"
She stepped aside.
"You never mentioned you were so cozy with the princess," she said, as he followed her into the abandoned house. The others had already arrived. They were assembled in the dusty remains of the living room. Shards of transparisteel littered the floor, and moonlight filtered in through the shattered windows. It was a sad, forgotten place in a sad, forgotten corner of the city. A perfect spot for secrets.
"Cozy isn't the word I would use," Ferus pointed out. "In case you hadn't noticed, she hates me. Even more so, now that she realizes I'm with you."
"That's right." Halle's voice was laced with sarcasm. "Sometimes I forget—you're with us."
It had taken Ferus very little time to get the others to trust him, but Halle Dray remained the lone holdout. He didn't take it personally: She trusted no one.
J'er Nahj had once told Ferus that she'd worked at a wildlife medcenter on Alderaan, tending to injured stalking birds and sick grazers. But that was before, in what she referred to as her other life. If there was any gentleness left in her now, she hid it well.
"We were right," Halle told the group, as the meeting began. "Leia is here to draft survivors into the Rebellion. She pretends to want to help us, but she's just looking for martyrs to her cause."
"Do you have proof?" Ferus asked.
"Wherever Leia goes, a new crop of Rebel fighters is sure to follow. I don't believe in that kind of coincidence."
Ferus frowned. "Leia's Rebel sympathies are well known. It doesn't mean she's on a recruiting mission."
"Wake up, Fess," Halle snapped. "She's had her minions poking around Delaya for weeks now. And here she is to c
lose the deal. You saw her with Kiro Chen."
There was murmuring at the name. Though none of them knew Kiro personally, it was common knowledge that he'd been working with General Rieekan—and everyone knew that Rieekan spoke for the Alliance.
"I wanted to believe that she was sincere about trying to help us," Nahj said. "But it seems clear that she has other priorities."
The twin brothers Driscoll and Trey Bruhnej muttered to each other in disgust. "She hasn't gotten enough of us killed?" Driscoll said aloud.
"Apparently two billion isn't enough to satisfy her," Halle said. "Which is why this time, we're going to stop her."
"And how exactly will we do that?" Ferus asked dryly, concealing his concern.
"Tomorrow night, she and her allies plan to sneak away from their government 'protectors,'" Halle said. "They've planned a secret meeting with those of our people foolish enough to believe their Rebel lies. That meeting is not going to happen."
Ferus kept his expression blank. So Halle had someone watching Leia. Against his will, his mind jumped instantly to the boys he occasionally paid to run errands. Mazi and his brothers seemed willing to do just about anything for credits. Had it been mere coincidence that they'd attacked Leia in that alley?
Like Halle, Ferus was reluctant to believe in coincidences.
J'er Nahj shook his head. "Disrupting the meeting won't help. If our people are foolish enough to join the princess and her Rebellion, they will do so—tomorrow or the next day."
"They can't join the princess if the princess is no longer asking," Halle said.
"She won't stop," Nahj said. "She doesn't seem to understand that Alderaan has paid enough."
"Why should she?" Halle scoffed. "When she's paid nothing."
It was far from the truth, Ferus knew. But he stayed silent.
"The meeting won't happen because the princess won't be available," Halle added. "She'll be with us."
"Kidnapping?" Nahj said. "No."
"You disapprove of the methods?" Halle asked wryly. "I admit I'm rather surprised."