by Alex Wheeler
Halle Dray had told her she deserved this. That if she truly loved Alderaan, she'd be willing to give her life for its revival.
Whatever I've done, it's not Halle Dray's job to punish me, Leia thought. Sacrificing herself to the Emperor was no way to honor the billions who'd died at his hand.
She'd barely looked at her cell, but now she scrutinized it, her mind racing, frantically searching for options. The room was only four or five meters wide, with four blank walls and a single locked durasteel door. The cheap flooring tiles sagged beneath her. The floor bulged in one corner, the plasteel tiles peeling up at the edges as if something lay beneath.
Leia got on her hands and knees and dug her fingers into one of the peeling tiles, trying to pry it up. She grunted in pain as two of her nails broke off, but she kept scrabbling at the scuffed plasteel.
The tile popped off. The one next to it lifted off easily, and the next, and the next, until Leia had uncovered a narrow grate over a dark shaft. Some kind of old heating vent, perhaps, or an air duct.
Or an escape route. Leia unscrewed the grate and eased herself into the opening. It was just large enough for her to squeeze through. She didn't pause to consider where the dark tunnel might lead—it was away from the cell. And for now, that would have to be enough.
The air shaft was dank and slimy. Leia dropped down several meters, landing hard as the shaft flattened out. She slithered on her stomach as the shaft sagged beneath her weight. It was holding…for now.
The shaft began to climb. As it grew steeper, Leia braced her feet against its sides to keep herself from sliding backward. She inched up the slope, using her legs to push herself forward. It was grueling and maddeningly slow—and then, abruptly, the shaft leveled off again. Light filtered up through a grate, illuminating the wall that lay before her. She'd hit a dead end.
The grate lifted off easily. Leia peered through the opening. She looked down—way down—on a wide, empty room, scattered with piles of durasteel girders and abandoned scaffolding. Her captors must have brought her to one of the abandoned construction sites scattering the city. Now she was suspended at least thirty meters above a duracrete floor.
A thin crane climbed toward the ceiling, several meters below and to the left. If she could propel herself from the grate at just the right angle, with enough momentum she might be able to grab it. Might.
And then, if she didn't miss her grip and go plummeting to her death, she might be able to climb down.
Might.
Leia lowered herself down, feet first, holding so tight to the edge that her knuckles turned white. Then she began to swing her legs back and forth, building up momentum.
Scared, Your Worship? Han's voice taunted, as she hesitated. Maybe if you wait long enough, someone will build you a royal turbo lift.
Get out of my head! Leia silently shouted and, with a deep breath, swung herself forward and let go.
For a moment, she was flying, arms outstretched.
She slammed into the crane. Her head thudded against the durasteel with a dull clang. She could taste blood dripping from a split lip. But she was alive.
Leia wrapped her arms around the crane, hugging it to her chest, her feet scrabbling for purchase. One miracle down, she thought, trying not to look at the all-too-distant ground. One to go.
She felt no fear. There was something familiar about the cold durasteel of the crane against her skin, the dizzying height. Thin ridges jutted out at regular intervals along the mast of the crane, and she was able to climb down without much difficulty—until she got overconfident. The next foothold she reached for wasn't there, her fingers slipped their grip, and suddenly she was hurtling toward the ground.
Instinct took over. Her arm shot out, grabbing for the scaffolding at the exact moment it flew past. She made contact. Her shoulder nearly tore out of its socket, but she held on, dangling by one arm, fifteen meters above the ground. A narrow catwalk stretched above her. She need only pull herself up and climb down.
Unbelievable, she thought in wonder. Grabbing hold of that scaffolding at the right instant had been an incredibly lucky one-in-a-hundred shot.
And then the bar from which she hung gave out. As it snapped free of the scaffolding, she reached desperately for the edge of the catwalk. She caught herself just in time, hanging by her fingertips. But the bar tumbled to the floor, crashing into a pile of durasteel girders with an echoing clang that seemed to shake the building.
She heard a shout, then footsteps, running toward her.
With the last of her strength, Leia swung herself up onto the catwalk. But it was too late. By the time she'd regained her footing, Halle's men had arrived. Three of them, blasters aimed.
"Get her down from there," Halle ordered her men. "Then bring her back with us so we can keep an eye on her. Just in case she's stupid enough to try this again."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Sorry about all this," Kiro murmured, as he fastened her restraints. Leia pretended not to hear.
Halle Dray stood before her, clapping slowly. "Impressive," she jeered. "Not what I would have expected from a coddled member of the royal family."
Leia glared at her captor. "My father never coddled me," she said in an even voice. "He showed me how to stand on my own. To fight."
Halle perched on the edge of a durasteel girder, bringing her face level with Leia's. "Yes, your father knew plenty about fighting, didn't he? Alderaan was a peace-loving planet, but that wasn't good enough for him, was it? He needed the glory of battle. Even if it meant turning his planet into an enemy of the Empire. Even if it meant destroying us all."
Enough. Let them accuse her all they wanted—but there was no way Leia would let them attack her father.
"My father loved Alderaan," she snarled.
Halle shook her head. "No. He loved the glory of war."
It was Leia who had first urged her father to join the Rebellion. Leia who had fought for Alderaan to take up arms after so many years of peace. Will you be the one to bring war to us? he had once asked.
But in the end, he had agreed.
"The people of Alderaan believed in my father," Leia insisted.
"'The people,' taken as a whole, are almost always reckless and stupid," Halle snapped. "You and your father preyed on their foolishness. You re-armed a planet that had turned its back on violence. You linked it with the Rebel Alliance. And you—yes, you, Princess Leia—you gave the Emperor the final excuse he needed."
Leia heard Grand Moff Tarkin's voice, as she heard it in her nightmares. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first.
"No!" she shouted. Halle could blather on as much as she wanted. But Leia needed to silence the voice in her head. "I'm proud of everything I've done. Can you—any of you—say the same?"
Kiro and Nahj both looked away, shame tingeing their expressions. But Halle was uncowed. "I've done only what I need to do. Sacrifices are always necessary for the greater good."
"No good can come of cooperating with the Empire," Leia protested. She turned her gaze toward Kiro. He'd been working on behalf of the Alliance for weeks—yes, it had all been an act, but he seemed so apologetic now. Wasn't there a chance that some small part of him believed in her? If she could persuade him… "The Empire is evil, you must see that after what they've done. There can be no good in the galaxy until the Empire is destroyed. This is why we fight. Why we must fight."
Kiro cleared his throat. "Halle, maybe…"
"Kiro, get my medpac and find something to tend to the prisoner's wounds," Halle ordered. "I'm sure Vader's men expect to find her in good condition."
"But—"
"Kiro, now!" Halle snapped. Then she drew in a slow breath, calming herself. She stood up, grasping his wrists and bringing her face close to his. "You know this is right," she said in a low voice. "I need you to believe in me."
Kiro hesitated, his eyes darting to Leia. Then he gave Halle a soft kiss on the forehead. "Always," he promised her
.
There was a storage area off to Leia's right. Halle waited for Kiro to disappear through the door before she spoke again.
"Don't you dare try to use him against me," Halle warned Leia. "He'll never betray me."
Ignoring the pain, Leia drew her bloodied lips back in the approximation of a smile. "Some people will do whatever's necessary for the greater good."
"Halle, they're here!" J'er Nahj cried, before she could respond. Four Imperial stormtroopers clomped toward them, their heavy boots slapping the floor in lockstep. Behind them appeared a slim, gray-haired man.
Halle flipped open her comlink. "Driscoll, you were supposed to alert me if the Imperials arrived. Driscoll? Trey? Hello?" No response.
"I'm afraid your friends have other things to worry about," the man said. "You'd best worry about yourself. Halle Dray, I assume?"
She nodded. "How did you find us?"
"That's my job," the officer said. "No one can hide from the Empire."
Halle didn't flinch. "Have you brought the plans for the New Alderaan resettlement?"
The Imperial officer shook his head.
"The terms of our agreement were that you would get the prisoner only once the Empire begins relocating the refugees."
"The terms have been changed." He signaled the stormtroopers. As one, they raised their blasters and fired.
The laserbolts struck Halle Dray and J'er Nahj at the same moment. Both were direct hits.
It seemed like their bodies collapsed to the floor in slow motion. Leia forced herself not to look away. Remember this, she ordered herself, staring hard at their limp, pale limbs, at the scorch marks across their chests. At their sightless eyes, wide open, gazing blankly into the void. Remember every life the Empire has taken.
Halle and Nahj had been her captors. But they had also been her people.
Remember—then avenge.
"There's supposed to be a third," the Imperial said, kicking each of the bodies to make sure they were dead. "Find him."
Leia glanced toward the storage area, and saw Kiro's eyes peering out of the darkness. He was at her mercy.
"The third one ran off shortly before you arrived," she told the Imperial. "The sniveling coward couldn't take the pressure."
He raised his eyebrows. "Your help in the matter is rather unexpected, Princess."
"You and I may be on opposite sides," Leia said, trying to sound as cold and unfeeling as him. "But we certainly agree that this scum deserves to die."
The Imperial nodded to the stormtroopers. "TB-278, TB-137, see if you can track him down. TB-31 and TB-2954, take her back to the temporary base and see she's prepared for interrogation. I'll alert Lord Vader of our progress." He swept his eyes across her body, staring so intently it was almost like he could see inside of her. She forced herself not to cringe. "I doubt I'll be seeing you again, Your Highness. Not alive, at least."
He spun on his heel and walked away.
As the stormtroopers carried her from the room, she arched her head back, and saw Kiro poke his head out of the shadows. He took a step toward her, a question on his face. Leia gave her head a slight shake. Run, she mouthed.
He hesitated, his eyes wide and anguished. Run! she urged him again.
He couldn't save her. But he could save himself. And no matter what he'd done, he was still one of her subjects. Which meant he was her responsibility.
Kiro nodded, once, then slipped back into the shadows. As the stormtroopers carried her away, she felt a faint whisper of relief.
At least one of us will escape.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"There's no one here," Luke said, once they'd conducted a cursory search of the hollowed-out school building. Its rust red paint was peeling off the walls, and crushed transparisteel glittered on the floor. A few tattered drawings still fluttered on the wall, leftovers from an unimaginable past. It had taken them far too long to track down the building. And now, after all that wasted time, there was nothing. "Let's go—maybe Han found something in the other wing."
He's too impatient, Ferus thought. So eager to move onto the next thing that he misses what's right in front of him. It wasn't untypical for a Padawan, but then, Luke wasn't a Padawan. He had no Master to show him a better way.
He could have me.
"Wait," Ferus said, stretching out with the Force. They were not alone.
"Wait for what?" Luke asked, annoyed. "You stay if you want. I'm leaving."
That's when Ferus heard it. A distant, muffled moaning. "Come on." Ferus hurried toward the source of the sound, without bothering to see if Luke would follow. He crept into one of the empty classrooms, crossing to a desk in the back of the room. Kiro Chen lay curled up underneath, hugging his arms to his chest. Weeping.
Ferus touched the man's shoulder. He didn't react. "Kiro."
Kiro looked up at him with blank, wild eyes. "They killed her! They killed her, and I didn't know where else to go. It wasn't supposed to be this way."
Surely I would know if she was dead, Ferus assured himself. I would sense it.
"Leia?" Luke said, his voice cracking on the name. "They killed Leia?"
Kiro shuddered, and buried his face in his hands. "I loved her. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't."
"Halle?" Ferus guessed softly. Regret mixed with relief.
Kiro groaned. "Dead."
Ferus took Kiro by the shoulders and, gently, pulled him out from under the desk. Kiro didn't resist as Ferus guided him to a chair.
"Tell us where they are," Luke urged him. "Where did you take Leia?"
Tears streamed down Kiro's face. "I lost everyone. Everything. And then I found her—and they took her from me, too."
Ferus nodded. "It is a tragic loss, Kiro, and I'm sorry—"
"Sorry?" Luke repeated incredulously. "He kidnapped Leia. And now he's the only one who knows where to find her." He grabbed Kiro by the shoulders, shaking him roughly. "Where is she? Where?"
Kiro choked on his sobs, sucking in air like he couldn't get enough to breathe.
"Answer me!" Luke shouted.
There's so much anger in him, Ferus thought.
Luke's hand strayed toward his lightsaber.
Enough, Ferus thought in alarm. He grabbed Luke's wrist. "No," he said firmly. "This is not the way."
Rage filled Luke's eyes and, for a moment, Ferus feared he was about to strike. But instead, he dropped his arm back to his side. "I wasn't going to hurt him."
"I know," Ferus assured him.
This was a lie.
"He knows where she is," Luke said desperately. "He knows, and he won't tell us."
"Because he can't tell us. Not like this." Ferus knelt by Kiro's side, placing a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. Kiro shuddered beneath his touch. "Anger is never the answer," he told Luke. "Whatever you gain from it never makes up for what you lose."
Luke nodded.
But does he really understand? Ferus thought. Or is he just pretending, the way Anakin used to? Biding his time?
Ferus reminded himself that these were extreme circumstances. He understood Luke's desperation, because he shared it.
He shut his doubts out of his mind and let the Force flow through him. He didn't suppress his fear, he embraced it, accepted it as a necessary reaction to events, then let it go. He imagined himself as the eye of the storm, peaceful and serene, then let that calm flow through his body and into Kiro Chen. "Your loss has been great, my friend. Your sorrow beyond measure," he said soothingly, letting his voice rise and fall like the lapping river. The words weren't as important as the emotion they carried. Ferus could sense that Kiro was a good man. He wanted to help. But he was locked inside his grief. "You think your life is empty. Frozen, because how can it move forward? How can it survive this? How can you?"
As he spoke, Ferus allowed himself to remember all the losses he'd tried too hard to forget. The names and faces who haunted his nightmares. "But you did survive," he said. "And by accepting that, you honor her
sacrifice."
"It wasn't her fault," Kiro said. "She did what she thought was right. I tried to talk her out of it, but she never listened to anyone. She was always so certain, and this time…"
"If you don't help us, more will die," Ferus said quietly. "Princess Leia will die."
Kiro took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know where the Imperials took her."
Ferus exchanged a glance with Luke. The same hopeless frustration was painted across both their faces.
Until Kiro spoke again. "But I know someone who will."
Deputy Minister Var Lyonn liked to work late. And he liked to work alone. It meant he could focus on his tasks without any distractions. It also meant that when two men blasted through his office door, then aimed their weapons at his head, there was no one to hear him scream.
He screamed quite a bit.
"Give it a rest," Han snapped. Time was running out. And he was getting a headache. "We're not here to kill you."
Lyonn reached for a switch on the corner of his desk. A laserbolt shot across the room, blowing a hole in the expensive wood. Lyonn yanked his hand back. "No need to call in reinforcements," Fess said calmly. "You'll be gone by the time they get here."
"And just where am I going?" Lyonn said, trying and failing to sound like he was in control of himself or anything else.
"You're going to take us to wherever the Empire has stashed the princess."
Var Lyonn went white. "The princess is…missing?
"She is," Fess said. "Thanks in part to you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Another laserbolt whizzed by, this one blasting a hole in the wall just behind Lyonn's left ear. "Try again," Fess growled.
"You can't blame me!" Var Lyonn squeaked. "I had to do what was best for Delaya! We have enough problems of our own, without all these survivors sapping our resources. The Empire promised to help!"
"In return for giving them Leia." Han was glad that they'd agreed Fess would do all the blasting. Han would have been too tempted to blow a hole straight through this skrag. "So you did it. And now you're going to help us get her back."