Chinnatah stared at the datapad in front of him.
Vader was having a protocol droid try to teach him how to read Basic, which was proving much more difficult for him to learn than merely understanding Basic, as he couldn't easily pull from a mind to bring forth comprehension of it. Instead, he had to deal with the tediousness of memorization and practice.
The droid seemed especially frustrated—at least as frustrated as a droid could get—that Chinnatah refused to say anything aloud. The protocol droid could never be certain that his charge understood what was being taught.
The lean-bodied droid, whom Chinnatah had mentally nicknamed Opakwa after the Jawa term for "spare parts," began slowly, "Aurek. Besh. Cresh. Dorn. Esk. Forn. Grek—"
Chinnatah gently pushed away the droid's silver appendage and typed, Boring.
The droid's photoreceptors focused on the youth. "You have already memorized the Aurebesh? But my programs say that human youths around your age take approximately—"
Yes, the former Tusken typed quickly. Fine. Boring.
Giving a mechanical impression of a sigh, Opakwa began to try to teach him more about words and syntax.
****
Leia scowled at AT-AV. She'd just had yet another annoying day of school.
Along with the other daughters of Alderaanian nobles, she went to the Alderaan Select Academy for Young Ladies. They were required to wear prim blue-and-white uniforms and to have their hair plaited in schoolgirl braids. In short, it was an unwanted nightmare.
Leia didn't mind dressing and acting regal in the Senate, but too many of the girls at the Academy were snobs who hid mind-altering yarrock in caches everywhere, further amplifying their inability to be truly modest.
She sighed. The only good thing about her school was that it gave her a well-rounded education. She was particularly interested in art, politics, and history—she was even fortunate to have Arn Horada, one of the greatest professors in the galaxy, as her teacher of history and politics, and she loved his classes.
AT-AV tilted her head and then rolled on her back to bat at a few starblossom petals. Leia managed a small smile.
After school, Leia would usually go sit in the plains for a while alone and let Alderaan's beauty wash over her, but today AT-AV had practically forced her to take her along, and Leia was glad she had, for the pittin was already improving her mood.
Leia thought briefly to what she had recently learned. Her father had become more open with her due to Obi-Wan's urging and had begun telling her more about his dealings with the Rebel Alliance.
Apparently, the Incom Corporation staff had defected to the Rebellion, bringing along materials and information pertaining to the development of the T-65 X-wing starfighter, an advanced starcraft possessing strong shields, hyperdrive technology, and greater firepower than TIE Fighters and TIE Bombers. This new development meant the Rebellion no longer needed to rely just on old Dreadnaughts—having X-wings would allow the Rebellion to execute hit-and-run campaigns which pilots and their crafts would be more likely to survive.
The candy-pink creature purrled, disturbing Leia's thoughts. Smiling, Leia tickled AT-AV's belly. Why couldn't her life be as simple as that of a pittin's? No Empire to worry about, no political struggles, no weapons...Just the beauty of life.
AT-AV sat up and stared at her with inquisitive eyes. She made a soft noise, and then she curled up in Leia's lap and went to sleep.
This was what Leia was fighting to protect. Simple lives with simple worries. Stroking the pittin's soft fur, Leia leaned back onto the soft grass, letting the gentle wind caress her face. She would one day take her father's place as senator, and she would fight to maintain justice for the galaxy. Her purpose in life was to stop the Empire from making the lives of common creatures miserable by such actions as controlling artistic expression. She only hoped she would succeed.
****
Chinnatah sighed. He had already beaten the most difficult level on the simulator Vader had had placed in his quarters, he was annoyed at having to constantly listen to his mechanical teacher's droning on and on about the Aurebesh, and he was tired of watching the few Empire-glorifying channels of the holovision Vader would let him access. In short, he was feeling very restless.
When he had agreed to leave Tatooine with Vader, he'd had no idea that the Sith Lord would be attending countless numbers of meetings, frequently leaving him alone with only Opakwa and servant droids to keep him company. He wished there were more humans around—he found it fascinating to watch their lips and faces as they communicated, for he'd been able to gain no knowledge of facial expressions when he had lived as a Tusken. Humans seemed to place great importance on the face, and he wanted to learn more about their ways. Chinnatah was beginning to feel claustrophobic after only seeing the palace walls for days on end, and if he didn't go out and get some fresh air—well, as fresh as air got on Coruscant—he felt he might begin to knock walls out. Most Ghorfa would probably have done so already.
Vader hadn't been around much lately, and as a result, Chinnatah had not learned very much about that so-called Force of his, but the youth felt he would not need to be able to access it for refuge from the palace. Most of the palace guards recognized him as being connected to Vader, and they would not question him. They wouldn't even really talk to him, which saddened him a bit, as he felt it would be nice to have a chance to observe their faces as they talked.
Why Vader had removed him from Tatooine, Chinnatah could not be sure. But he was willing to let the issue slide for the moment. He had other things to worry about.
Like getting out of the Imperial Palace, for instance.
Soon, after passing a few guards who only gave him short glances which he couldn't really read but guessed expressed mild curiosity, the youth was out on the streets, breathing in the various scents and looking with awe at the people around him.
He had never really noticed how busy Coruscant was. Creatures of all different species zoomed about in speeders or walked hurriedly to their destinations. Mos Eisley had only been vaguely similar. This was a real city.
As he tried to reach out to the elusive Force, he felt a barrage of emotions pummel him, and he pulled back. What was that?
He tried to sift through his memory of the feelings, and he sensed emotions such as fear and malice. He shivered.
A voice in his ear whispered, "Do you support the Empire?"
Chinnatah jumped. He brought his hands up protectively as he turned, wishing furiously that he had a gaffi stick or blaster rifle or some such weapon.
"Whoa, easy. I just asked a simple question."
Chinnatah let himself relax a little. The one who had spoken appeared to be a human youth like himself, but with black hair and a presence that didn't seem to be threatening. Perhaps he was around Chinnatah's own age or a little older? He could not tell; he was not accustomed to trying to discern the ages of humans.
The stranger repeated his question, and Chinnatah began to make the "no" Tusken handsignal, but then he quickly changed it to the human method of shaking his head.
"Are you interested in becoming a member of the Rebellion?" The man's eyes seemed to flash as he talked. Chinnatah had the feeling that the human was passionate about his chosen subject, and he tried to etch the stranger's details into his mind—the movement and position of his eyebrows, his face, his mouth...
Seeing Chinnatah's hesitation, the dark-haired youth continued, "The Rebellion is in desperate need of members. People who'll pilot, smuggle...The works. You name it, the Rebellion needs it."
Chinnatah stared at him in interest.
****
He glanced around nervously. "Uh, let's move. Can't look too conspicuous, now can we?"
The brown-haired youth looked slightly confused but followed him nonetheless as he moved forward with no particular destination in mind.
Wedge Antilles had been born and raised on a spaceport in the Corellian system, and as a young teenager, he'd been orphaned when his parents were killed by pirates. He had bought a stock light freighter with the money he'd received from an insurance settlement, and though he had tried to start a shipping business, it wasn't long before he began smuggling weapons for the Rebellion and helping recruit members when he could. He also had aspirations of his own to one day sit in the cockpit of a starfighter and deal even more damage to the Empire.
His being on Coruscant was perhaps not the brightest of decisions, but the way Wedge figured it, the Imperials wouldn't believe that Rebels would be stupid enough to set foot on Coruscant, much less try to pick up shipments and recruit members for the Rebellion.
Wedge normally waited until he'd observed people for extended periods of time and was in a more remote setting before he tried to convince them of the evils of the Empire, but he'd had a strange feeling about this one...
Maybe it was the other youth's pained blue eyes that called out to him. Maybe it was the fact that he was near Wedge's own age.
Well, whatever it was, Wedge Antilles was too far into it to turn back.
"Have you always lived on Coruscant?" Wedge asked, giving his companion a sideways glance. This was a quiet one. Wedge hoped it wasn't because he was plotting his demise.
The youth made some strange hand gesture and then slowly shook his head with a perturbed look on his face.
"Ah...Well, I don't live here. I don't think I could stand the constant reminder of the Empire's so-called majesty...The Emperor just tries to hide his cruelty with luxury." Wedge thought he saw the other shiver. "So you don't like Palpatine, either?"
The youth shook his head.
Wedge didn't know what it was, but something pulled him to continue on. It didn't look like the youth was enthusiastic about jumping in and joining the Rebellion, but maybe one day his words would have some sort of effect. Sometimes, it just took a little time.
"He enslaves non-humans, kills those who anger him..." Wedge shook his head with a slight, grim grin. "It's best not to get me started on that subject. Don't think I could stop."
The other gave a tentative and seemingly calculated smile, as if picking up on Wedge's hopes that one day Palpatine would be gone and good will and peace would abound.
"I know you probably want some time to think about it. If you ever decide you want to help, go to the bar Drunkard's Delight and ask for Juhatge. He'll get you hooked up."
****
The black-haired man disappeared, leaving Chinnatah staring after him. What had just happened?
Non-human slaves? Rebellion?
It seemed the dark man—no, he had a name, Vader—had a lot to explain to Chinnatah.
Vader...
Chinnatah winced, looking around as he realized he had no idea where he was.
On Tatooine, he had always been at home among the rocks and dunes, keeping a good track of direction, but here everything seemed the same—flashy and artificial.
Great. He was lost.
****
"What?" Vader growled. "You allowed him to leave the palace?"
"W-we th-thought it was under y-your orders," the officer stuttered.
"Never think," the Sith Lord told the man in a low growl, "that's what gets men with your low intelligence killed."
"I—"
****
Leia tried to control her impatience, but it was difficult. Meditation had just never seemed helpful to her, but Obi-Wan kept insisting that she meditate with him.
"You need to learn to clear your mind," he had told her time and time again. "Envelop yourself in the Force, and you may find yourself able to see the future, the past, the present..."
Upon first learning of the possibility of seeing that which ordinary people could not, Leia had tried very hard to meditate. Apparently, however, her effort was in vain, for nothing came out of it.
Still, Obi-Wan placed great importance on meditation, so perhaps she should continue trying.
Leia closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. She willed the Force to come over her, to seep into her pores, to cover her mind, to blanket her presence.
It felt as if the Force hesitated at first before coming; then she realized it was her own hesitation, and she tried to loosen her hold on herself. It was better for her in this moment to view herself as but a drop in the ocean that was the Force. Rather than someone trying to control the ocean, she was a speck being carried along by it...
Bright lights—overwhelmingly bright lights everywhere. Flash flash flash. Not calming like the twin suns.
Hurrying beings—careless hurrying beings everywhere. Step step step. Not mindful of surroundings like those back home.
Flash. Step. Flash. Step. The brmmmm of a speeder. Flash. Step. The laugh of a passerby. Flash. Step. Stumble.
Leia gasped at the bombardment of sensations, trying to pull back from the strange and almost alien yet vaguely familiar mind. Yes, she was certain she had been in someone else's mind—that mind was not her own.
Obi-Wan pulled out of his own meditation and looked at Leia with concern. "What is it?"
Leia blinked. "I—I don't know, really. It was like I was on Coruscant, only I was in someone else's head..."
The Jedi appeared troubled. "Did you see anything else?"
"No," Leia said, hesitating. "Do you know of a planet with twin suns?" Immediately, she felt stupid for asking the question. There must be plenty of planets with twin suns.
But Obi-Wan looked as if he had been hit in the head with a durasteel plate. After he found his voice, he asked her, "Did you see such a planet?"
"No...Not exactly...Obi-Wan," Leia said quietly, "what does it mean?"
"I do not know, Padawan," Obi-Wan whispered, using a term Leia had only heard a handful of times, which showed how disturbed he was. "...I do not know."
****
Chinnatah looked around uneasily. Neon-colored signs flashed all around him, people hurried all over the place, emotions seemed to fill the air...
He looked up at one bright sign, but the mix of Aurebesh letters meant nothing to him. However, he could sense a lot of people inside the building, so he took a deep breath and entered.
The place was thick with smoke and smelled of a plethora of species all coinciding in one small, confined space. Chinnatah resisted the urge to cough, staring instead at the strange creatures all around him.
His first glance revealed to him a standing cluster of conversing humanoids wearing clothes so scanty that the former Tusken Raider could not help but turn his gaze away from them. He began walking instead toward the drunkards gathered around the bar, preferring them over the immodest humanoids. He hovered near the bar, unsure of what he should do or where he could go and listening in on the various conversations in hopes of retrieving some hint.
"So then he tells me, 'You don't want to sell me death sticks,' and suddenly, I had this weird urge to go home and rethink my entire life," a middle-aged humanoid was saying, "and from that day on I've been a better man. No more death sticks, just a few drinks a week...Well, okay, a few drinks a day."
An angry human was talking to a green creature with several tentacles. "That blasted Darth Vader killed my inside man. Now, I'm gonna have to look for yet another guy to spy on Imperial activities. That krethin' Sith Lord goes through men quicker than a Hutt goes through a bowl of Klatooine paddy frogs. If he doesn't stop killing people, soon there won't be an Empire left. He'll have killed everyone in it."
As the words washed over him, Chinnatah felt himself getting sick to his stomach. From the sound of that, Darth Vader didn't seem to be much different from the Ghorfa. They killed without reason, and it seemed he did as well.
The tentacled alien gurgled back in Basic, "Whaane ahv my nestlings wahs enslaved by the Empiiire. It might not have been easieerr for smugglers to leeve in the Reepublic with all those Jedi running around, but at least one did not have to wahrry about being enslaved by the gohvernment."
Chinnatah felt a cold, clammy hand on his shoulder, and he jumped and sprung around, sinking into attack position.
A human with an ugly and recently scarred face and a humanoid with shining eyes were standing in front of him.
"He doesn't like you," the human explained.
Chinnatah stared at him.
"And I don't like you either."
The boy began backing up, sensing that no good could come out of the confrontation. He accidentally backed into a scantily clad human female, who cooed, "Aww, little boy lost and not know what to do?" When he didn't respond, she began cackling.
Chinnatah bit his lip, looking back and forth between her and the angered pair. Finally, he turned and ran, their taunting laughter following him out the door.
He kept running, not really knowing where he was going, just knowing that he had to get away from there, but he was suddenly forced to stop when he ran into something hard. He began to fall backwards, but a white-armored arm reached out to steady him.
"Are you Darth Vader's charge?" the Stormtrooper asked in a tinny voice, looking back and forth between him and the miniature holopicture he held in his hand.
Exhausted yet relieved, Chinnatah nodded.
The Stormtrooper put the picture in a pouch and brought up his comlink. "My lord, the boy has been found."
****
"Never ever run away, do you understand?" the Sith Lord said angrily.
Almost afraid that the dark man would slap him, Chinnatah nodded, his blue eyes averted to the ground. Indeed, he heard the man all too well.
"You could have been killed or kidnapped," Vader noted darkly. "There is a reason I have been confining you to the castle, as I am sure you found out on your venture today."
The youth nodded. He understood.
"Until you learn more about human society, there is no hope that you can survive out there."
The boy closed his eyes. Yes, he knew. He had learned that, certainly.
Darth Vader looked at him for a moment. "There's something disturbing you." It was not a question. "What is it?"
Chinnatah merely shook his head slowly. He would save that for another day.
****
"What is thy bidding, my master?" Darth Vader inquired from upon bended knee.
"I have received word that your charge has become restless. If you are not able to restrain him, Lord Vader, I will be more than willing to take control of him myself." The Emperor stared at him for a moment with his evil eyes. "Perhaps I know a way to decrease his restlessness. You cannot be with him all the time, after all. A companion might be suitable for him."
And would allow you to keep an eye on him? Vader thought from behind one of the strongest mental shields he possessed. Out loud, he said, "Yes, my master."