Leia scrabbled down the mountain path, careful to watch her footing on the loose rocks. She didn't want to fall and risk another stain or tear to her Death Star gown.
A new thought, she marveled at herself. When she fell into a heap of garbage on the Death Star the stains on her senatorial robe became a badge of honor. They had not been laundered out. Those were earned, she emphasized, during an escape. She wasn't escaping the courtyard right now, so a dirt stain would merely be carelessness.
She'd wondered if she might flee, and was proud of her composure that she hadn't. There were moments, though. Moments where her breath caught, or her eyes darted around, where she was on the edge of... a terror.
She shook her head at herself. It sounded so extreme. And she hated the reaction, what all this had done to her. By the goddesses, Leia scorned herself, what would her mother say? Put your fear where it belongs, Leilei. Remember they are looking to you.
Facing down Vader seemed easier. She wondered why that was. The pain?- she could focus on the pain? Her tolerance for her own pain was high, but the courtyard holding thirty-three refugees was like a silent scream of agony.
I exited, she narrated to herself as she navigated the path. I did not flee. General Rieekan might have, though, and she was a bit concerned for him. He was stringent about observing Alderaani customs, particularly when dealing with Leia, and it was uncharacteristic of him to slip out of the courtyard unobserved.
She would check on him, Leia resolved. Her task list was growing. Things she knew she could accomplish.
The path had been carved out by the constant back and forth of the work crew. It would be paved soon. For now it was narrow and uneven. A delicate, pale green vine edged the sides. It looked like it was testing the traffic, waiting to see when it could jump to the other side. Leia stooped, throwing her long hair over her shoulder so she could examine the vine up close. The layer of topsoil was very thin, and the plant had adapted to reproduce from the roots, which took a tenacious hold into rock, even causing a gentle erosion. It only looked delicate. The vine was tough.
Like the Alderaani, Leia hoped.
First things first. Change my hair, she itemized. Check on Carlist. Find Mon and-
It occurred to Leia she might need to apologize. Or had her impulsive move to speak with the Alderaani refugees out of earshot of the crowd on the landing pad impressed the Minister? It was hard to say anymore.
Leia had nothing to base this on, but to her it felt like the relationship between her and Mon had to change. As Senators, Leia had been the Princess of Alderaan and Mon winner of the popular vote on Chandrila. Now she was the Minister of War and Leia princess of nothing...
Go to the landing pad and learn the landing schedule.
The Millennium Falcon should have received clearance. From her vantage point the mountain gave Leia a clear view of the sea and the shoal beyond which doubled as a landing pad.
One ship remained at all times, in case of emergency. Each day a pilot cleaned it, ran a systems test, and took it for a short flight. There was space for one other craft to land, but not stay. Pilots were directed to remain in orbit or leave the system altogether. In addition to the Falcon's landing, Leia had heard of a shuttle which would transport members of the press and special guests back up to the home ship orbiting Buteral.
Leia had to admit she felt something about the Falcon's imminent landing. Excitement, tempered by marginal caution. She looked forward to the ship yes; seeing her would be like sinking into one's own bed after a long time away. A place to regroup, figure oneself out. And Chewie, warrior-sweet and loyal. She wanted to see Han, the same as she wanted to see Luke, only... more. Differently?
Luke had burst into her life. That's how it seemed to Leia, waiting in her cell for execution. Unplanned and unexpected, dropped by that god of irony and truth. Already full of admiration and love; fully formed. A kindred spirit. Terrible at rescues. Or maybe not, Leia allowed. To go undetected for as long as they had, and on the Death Star!
They were together two days after that, but with little time to be together. Luke was in training for the position of pilot and Leia was busy with... she couldn't remember. Had she sought him out at all? And yet, while Leia thought of him during the month since, she hadn't...
She winced, because what was being explained in her own brain sounded rude and unfair. She hadn't, she frowned, missed him. Needed him? It wasn't that she disregarded him, or forgot him. It was... she didn't need to miss him. Yes. There was no missing something you already had. Her connection with Luke went beyond distance and time.
Leia's eyes traveled upward, into the dim light of an ugly sky, gray and cloudless before it turned black, to where Luke was in the Homestead circling the submoon, watching out for her and everyone else. And to where Han and Chewie were awaiting word they could land.
Han hadn't burst into her life. When she had dashed down the corridor out of her cell- ahead of Luke, because at the time even he wasn't as important to her as Kenobi- the jarring scene of a Wookiee and a stormtrooper jointly firing at other stormtroopers had brought her to a halt.
Luke was dressed in armor too but it was obviously a disguise. Not so with this man and she failed to make the connection. Luke had only mentioned General Kenobi and the two droids. Leia was certain he'd said nothing about a partner or a Wookiee. Maybe it had been shock, the confusion of pain and torture. Blaster bolts were coming toward her and she distinctly remembered regret that the rescue was so short-lived. But it was still jarring. Out of place, Leia thought. An ememy trooper and a Wookiee on the Death Star!
Little things came to her, slowly. She noticed straight off the trooper was without a helmet. Luke's was a mask; he didn't count. Other than him, she had only ever seen a trooper in complete armor, covered head to foot in white. They almost looked like droids. Then she understood he hadn't turned his weapon on her, but was continuing to fire down the corridor. This was followed by an understanding she was looking at a head full of wavy brown hair. Troopers had heads. They had hair. Nice hair. Troopers were men. This man was handsome.
And then Luke caught up to her, helmetless and in armor, and when she understood they were together, and that Luke relied on this trooper, this man, whoever he was, she grew irritated.
No, she amended, going back to her original thought, Luke was not good at rescues.
She'd spent more time with Han than she had with Luke. Lived on his ship for nine days. But she couldn't say she was closer to him. There was an... incompleteness to their friendship; something that needed doing or saying. Leia wasn't even sure from who. It just felt open-ended. It wasn't... cemented, like it was with Luke.
Leia shook the thoughts away. Han probably was not putting as much thought into the landing as she was.
Distribute candles. Repay Han for his purchase. Just in case.
Mon had taken over one of the conference rooms. Two of her aides were in the room with her, the young man Leia had met previously and an older woman. There were also two service droids at work. The noise crowded Leia. She didn't want to stay, entering far enough into the room for someone to notice her.
Mon floated out of a chair, her white robes sailing behind her as she moved around the table. "Ah, Leia," she said gratefully. She clasped Leia gently by the biceps before enclosing her in a shallow embrace. "Carlist told me how it went. I always knew, Leia, how passionate a Senator you were. Now I see what a Princess you are."
Leia felt self-conscious in her own robes, once white and turned drab.
During the Old Republic, Senators gathered in a huge chamber. Their clothing, or lack thereof, helped identify their homeworld. When Palpatine formed the Empire and reclassified the class structure of the galaxy, the Imperial Senate became mostly human. The members voted to wear something to symbolize the office, a white robe. It was a feeble attempt by the Senators to remind Palpatine of their former power and influence. Mon chose to maintain use of the same garment while she formed the New Republic. To her, who had worked so hard at joining the Senate, the robes symbolized calm and logic. The sane side of war.
Mon didn't introduce the two humans and Leia had no intention of stepping on Mon's office. She added to her list. Change into my uniform. "The work is just beginning," she said after Mon released her.
"Yes, it is. Carlist also filled me in on your plan. It is intriguing. Ingenious, too, though I don't think you'll get far."
"That's not the point," Leia said.
"No." Mon smiled at her. "But you're staking a claim on territory I think the Emperor will rush to defend."
Leia nodded. "That is the point."
Mon was still smiling, looking as though terribly pleased to see Leia. "Will you sit?" she asked.
"No," Leia declined. "Thank you. I know you're busy. I wanted to- to thank you, for today. For arranging this, and placing special significance on the future service that will be done here on Buteral."
Mon's face sobered, and she nodded. "I'm leaving the press here. I invited these, and of course they are sympathetic to the Alliance. A shuttle will bring them back tonight, but they'll take as much time as they need and return if it is required. I've asked them to... not really interview, but record the oral histories of those who lived on Alderaan.
"In future generations, everyone will know of Alderaan the Destroyed Planet," Mon continued as Leia's bosom swelled with a powerful wave of gratitude. "But there won't be anyone alive who actually knows what it is like to have lived on it. I'd like to record their memories, so we always have something. You should add your voice too, Leia."
It was... well, quite possibly the most meaningful thing Mon had ever said to her. And Leia thought it might be Mon's greatest achievement as Minister of War.
Leia needed time to sort through all the sadness, symbolism, and friendship contained within the suggestion and stood mute, but Mon only gave her a pat on the shoulder before strolling back to the conference room table. "I'd like you to dine with me this evening. Chief Masawawi will be there. As will General Rieekan and Major Renzatl. Department heads."
Mon was letting her exit gracefully, so Leia took the opportunity and without confirming her dinner plans left to tackle another item on her list.
She found General Rieekan in his office. He looked busy, and she felt guilty for bothering him. "General Rieekan, do you have a moment?"
"Your Highness," General Rieekan greeted her formally, rising to his feet. "Glad to see we both are up and about," he said, as if they had been recovering from an illness.
He wasn't talking about her health, she knew, but how she fared after welcoming the first group of refugees. Evidently the day was tough for him. He was a parent, Leia remembered again. It seemed every time she met with him she saw the ghosts of his two sons. And the courtyard was filled with children. His eyes looked weak and bleary.
Leia gestured for him to resume his seat. "How are you, General Rieekan?"
"Glad it's over," he said with a heavy sigh, using his legs to pull the chair closer to his desk. "Mind you, I'm glad we started, but I'm glad that part is done. Now all that's left is the Minister's dinner."
Leia smiled at the mention of the staff dinner. "Are you not looking forward to it?"
"I mean absolutely no disrespect," Rieekan hastily said. "When it comes to the Minister I have no sense of humor, Princess Leia. I'm worried about her being here. I've an earpiece glued to the control room. I half expect the Emperor to make his move."
This was a serious matter, and Leia's mood changed abruptly. She shifted her feet. "Had you any indication-"
"No." Rieekan shook his head. "I've only got one squadron up there. Your friend, Skywalker." His gray eyes lit on her quickly. "They're monitoring orbital entry points. Fortunately for us, the mother moon limits those. They're stretched pretty thin. So far, no sign of the Empire."
Leia's breath was held in suspense, and she released it. "Do you really think Palpatine would try anything?"
"Her location right now is public knowledge, thanks to the press coverage she invited. If he wanted to get her, now would be easy. He's gotten everyone else. She doesn't agree with my assessment."
"It's a formal war now, General," Leia said, needing to reason it through. She understood Rieekan's viewpoint; it was an obvious move. But the Emperor was never obvious. "The others were... well, targets. Set-ups. Subtle assassinations. Public perception would backfire on him if he were to hit Buteral."
Rieekan scratched an ear. "That was Mon's logic. What kind of war is fought with public relations in mind?" he sounded frustrated and flung up a hand.
"And he wouldn't win," Leia was continuing to think aloud, "The war wouldn't be over if he killed the Minister. It's an office now; she would be replaced. We have the other bases."
Rieekan was struggling to accept her rationale. His eyes were cast downward. "I expect so. I appreciate your input."
"And I appreciate," Leia said as Princess, "how you did not let on about the tensions to the group from Bavasuuti."
Rieekan nodded curtly. "It's why I left early. It was all I could think about. Incoming." He cocked his head at Leia. "You don't- Your Highness, have those- you don't-"
"Have what, General Rieekan?" Leia prompted, because she thought she knew.
"Those feelings." His shoulders twitched. "Like the bottom is going to fall out any moment." They twitched again. "Fright."
"That's Alderaan," Leia said softly.
Rieekan's jaw moved. "I'm told I project how I feel my wife must have felt."
"Oh, Carlist," Leia said. He wouldn't accept an embrace she knew, so she took a step closer to his desk and touched his sleeve quickly. "I don't think my father was afraid," she told him. "He was resigned."
"Gods," Carlist said. "What a mess. Is everyone like we are, Your Highness?" He shook his head, and his fingers traveled over each data board on his desk. "You're dead, and I'm running around in a panic."
Leia actually laughed. "We're both far from that, aren't we?"
Rieekan grunted softly. "He's not an office," he said after a moment. "Palpatine. How I look forward to the day when we are rid of him. You know, Princess," Rieekan finally was able to make eye contact with her again, "I was thinking, what if the Minister were from Alderaan."
"Then Coruscant would be leveled," Leia replied.
Rieekan smiled fully. "Yes. That is her, isn't it." He pulled the bottom drawer of his desk out. "And not Imperial City, but Coruscant. I've never heard her use the new name." He held up a bottle. Leia was familiar with the label. It was an Alderaani wine.
"My fading stash," he said. "I packed a bottle for my trip to Naboo." He poured just two swallows in a glass and passed it to Leia. "Please join me, Your Highness," he said as he poured the orange liquid into a second.
Leia took hers and sniffed as Rieekan stood and lifted his glass. On Alderaan, she had rarely imbibed. She had to keep a level head.
"To the Minister," Rieekan toasted. "May the Force be with her, and with the New Republic."
Leia drank, and took her turn. "May solace and serenity grace the citizens of Alderaan once more."
Rieekan nodded, and took Leia's empty glass. "I like that, Your Highness," he told her. He sighed, and suddenly was a general again. "There will be many more arrivals, but without the pageantry. The Minister won't attend. This one was important."
"Yes. When will the next one arrive?" Leia asked.
Rieekan placed the empty glasses on a shelf. "The shuttle has already departed. I expect about a week."
Leia nodded. "I need to request a credit draft to the captain of the Millennium Falcon. If he is landing today, part of the cargo will be some candles I- we- he paid for them- obtained on Dantooine."
"This is the ship due in that took you to the Graveyard," Rieekan said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes." Leia fingered her face self-consciously, wondering how he knew. He had termed it discreetly. "They aren't the right size, Carlist, they're-"
"They'll do fine, Your Highness. I'll have them brought up to the residential platform. And we'll order more. Speaking of orders," Rieekan returned to his desk and shuffled data boards around. He did not sit. "I had a thought. I've got a holocall appointment about the civil suit in a bit."
Leia nodded appreciatively. Rieekan had gone right to work.
"You're welcome to sit in, Princess," he continued. "I'm going to ask the lawyer to keep you off Imperial City, but there's a chance they'll want you to appear. I don't want you going in uniform. Just my two credits."
"That's sensible," Leia agreed. She was thinking of a time past, Rieekan advising her father, both full of energy and vitality. It made her a little sad. "The suit is to be brought by residents of Alderaan."
"Exactly. And you are our Princess. It's important that if you go, you appear as that. Not as a member of the Rebel Alliance. I don't want you arrested the moment you step on Imperial soil simply because of your uniform.
"The Alliance has a contract with a uniform supply company," Rieekan grinned wryly. "Their contribution to the war effort. Here is the catalog." He passed it across the desk to Leia. "It's uniform-style items, nothing fancy. I'd order it plain, without insignia. Give it some thought, Your Highness. Or perhaps you'd go in what you are wearing now?"
Leia looked down at her Death Star gown. "This is my senatorial robe." One corner of her mouth tucked into her cheek. "Also out of date." She gave it some consideration. "But, I would like to call upon the court's memory of the honor of service and a more rational time. White is the color for that. Only something more practical." She nodded at the general. "Thank you. I'll look through it."
"Good. Is anything else on your mind, Your Highness?" Rieekan checked his chrono and then looked out the window. His grin was still mournful, Leia thought. "I'll be in attendance when the freighter lands. Another significant arrival. The Minister would like to meet the crew."
Leia's brows rose. "She would?"
"For their part in the Battle," Rieekan nodded. "She was unable to attend the awarding of the Medal of Bravery."
"That's right, she was," Leia murmured. Her eyes turned to the window. "It seems like so long ago. I borrowed a dress of hers. Will he- the crew, I mean- be at the dinner?" Leia was amused at the thought.
"No," Rieekan was decisive. He shook his head. "Not that kind of dinner."
"Has she met Commander Skywalker?"
"I believe so. Up in orbit, when she docked with the home ship."
Leia nodded. "If you'll let me know when it arrives. There is something else I'd like to discuss with you: developing a sponsorship program from established Alderaani family for those who are too young to live on their own, or need time getting back on their feet. It would mean obtaining a mailing list, or contact list, from worlds with Alderaani communities."
Rieekan regarded her thoughtfully. "I think it might be time to add a droid to your office staff," he told her. "It's interesting, isn't it Your Highness, the effect the others have had on us. I feel as if they are the ones who decided things for me."
"Yes. But-" and Leia remembered the distressed state of the young girl's embroidered cuff. If the day was difficult for both Leia and Carlist, who was to say it wasn't for the refugees? TRAD had their work cut out for them. "I believe we have had the same effect on them."
Leia next went to her quarters. Find out from Luke if I can use C-3PO again. It wasn't an escape this time, like the times after Tide's Rush when she walked the newly fallen darkness, or that time when she hid in John D. Bannon's room.
John Bannon. She hadn't thought that name in a long time. We passed you by, she thought. Kept on living.
Her father did need forgiveness and she offered it to him, fully. Otherwise would he be a ghost? she wondered. Is that how the stories started? When something in the living realm was so important that a death had to be postponed?
And Tarkin fell away; she assigned him... as a blip. She could still hear him say it, that awful accusation of trust, but that was just him talking. It was all him. She wasn't going to lie: it still angered her, but the burning shame didn't rise. It was more an angry disappointment. It felt... duller. There was disappointment too, towards Darth Vader. He had worked with Tarkin. He must have known what he was like. Why else had his fingers dug into Leia's shoulders so hard? Leia was a prisoner clinging to a vital piece of information; Vader was a colleague, powerful and dangerous on his own. He should have done something.
She was in the middle of the office, as far from the window as she had been from the viewport of the Death Star, only that one was huge. She could see out of this one now, thanks to the lighting system, and she strode to the window, opened it and peered out. Way off to the right, high up, was the residential platform. There was movement at the courtyard. And down, straight ahead, was the bridge and the landing pad. Three people were on the bridge, arms dangling over the railing. A CTC water craft buzzed over the surface of the seabed, displacing muck and leaving a wake. Not a shadow, but the air pushing against it from the repulsor engines. The landing pad showed little activity.
Leia turned from the window and reviewed her list. To hack through an assignment, one thing at a time, must be like clearing a path in a jungle. You couldn't see where you were going, but it was easier for those who followed. And at the end... well, maybe there was treasure, or maybe there was sucksand.
Whichever. She was game. She was a pioneer.
Leia changed her clothes. It might be the last time she donned her Death Star gown, though she had thought that before. As she had then, she took great care in putting it away. It took her a long time to redo her hair. The overhand knots at her crown were easy to undo but the long lengths of each strand tended to tangle. After brushing it out- she missed her maidens again, differently this time; she missed them for the help they lent her- she chose a historic pattern of plaiting dating to before the Recent Experiment.
Reset Experiment, she added to the list, but she might not see that one finished. That might be how it went.