In a galaxy at war, Chandrila was a bastion of peace. Leia had once described it to her as a temperate paradise with rolling hills, crystal cliffs, and seas of glass, which Rey had often tried to conjure images of in her mind. But all of her attempts fell far short of reality. Here, the planet's inhabitants lived in harmony with nature, building their cities alongside it instead of crushing it beneath an industrial heel of smog and durasteel.
The air was crisp and clean with a hint of salt, for Hanna City was located on the coast of the Silver Sea. White spires rose against a clear blue sky, glittering in the light of a single sun. The streets were wide and uncrowded, lined with the greenest grass Rey had ever seen and populated with flowers so vibrant that they stung her eyes. If only she could go back and tell her younger self about the places she would visit one day…
"Excuse me, my lady."
Startled from her thoughts, Rey glanced up at the slightly older woman who had approached her. She was elegantly dressed, wearing a long white gown with gold embroidery and gold earrings. Several loose chestnut curls framed her narrow face, the rest of them tied back and piled on top of her head.
"He is ready to see you now."
Nodding and quickly rising from the plush sofa where she had sat waiting for the last half hour, Rey followed the woman through the vast marble corridors of the southern capitol building. Richly attired politicians and their attendants passed them by, observing Rey's simple gray sash and black tunic with raised eyebrows and appalled expressions. Clenching her jaw and keeping her gaze focused on what was in front of her, she pretended not to notice them. But the truth was that she had felt exceedingly underdressed from the moment she had set foot on this planet.
At last, they arrived in front of a pair of ornately carved golden doors. Rey watched as the woman stepped up and pressed a button on the access panel, causing the doors to slide open with scarcely a sound. Then she followed her into the room beyond, where a man reclined on a velvet couch and sipped from a wine glass. He immediately rose when they entered, however, greeting them with a welcoming grin and sparkling emerald eyes.
"Calum Trevelm, this is Rey of the Resistance."
The woman indicated Rey with a delicate gesture, and she stepped forward with a smile, extending her hand as she had been advised to do when meeting new people. The taller man hesitated for the briefest of moments, and her smile faltered. Had she done something wrong? But then he suddenly grasped her hand in his much larger one and shook it warmly.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Rey! The Jedi once had a prominent presence on Chandrila. It brings me joy to see that their legacy has not been not extinguished after all."
"Thank you," she replied, eager to skip the pleasantries and explain why she had come. "The Queen of Naboo sent me to investigate the situation here on Chandrila. We heard that the First Order is allowing the planet to restore its own system of government and hold democratic elections. Is that true?"
"Why yes, it is!" Trevelm responded eagerly. "A rather unexpected turn of events, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. It appears that Supreme Leader Ren does not adhere to the same principles as his predecessor. He's created quite a stir amongst political circles—not just here—but across the galaxy."
"Has he been here recently?" she inquired, attempting to maintain a manner of casual indifference. "Did he come to address the matter personally?"
"No, but—" Calum abruptly paused and then swallowed. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a subject I am at liberty to discuss with you. You are at war with the First Order, and they with you, and it is Chandrila's desire to remain neutral in this conflict."
"We are," Rey admitted, "but if there is any way to end this war without further bloodshed, I will do it. Surrender is not an option for the Rebellion, but if some kind of compromise can be reached—a treaty or—"
"Please!" he interrupted, holding up a hand. "Go no further. I cannot be seen negotiating with a leading member of the Resistance, which is viewed by many on this planet as a terrorist organization. As you previously stated, we are in the middle of an election, establishing our own Chandrilan Senate for the first time in centuries. The New Republic failed, and it is time that we accept alternative solutions."
"Because it was destroyed by the First Order!" she burst, her voice rising before she could stop it. "How can you sit back and do nothing while billions die?"
He simply raised his chin and did not answer her, his decision already made. Her eyes narrowed.
"Ah, of course. You won't risk losing your precious election. I don't know why I expected anything different. You politicians are all the same—cowards."
The friendly twinkle of Trevelm's gaze vanished in an instant. The smile that was plastered on his face had now darkened and twisted into a forbidding scowl.
"Get this woman out of my office."
"No need," said Rey. "I know the way."
Before he or his assistant could utter another word, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed from the room. She couldn't wait to get out of this place.
When she exited the building, Rey expected to be met by a pleasant evening breeze and a starry sky. Instead, she was lashed across the face by sheets of torrential rain. Darkness had fallen, and thunder rolled in the distance.
"Great," she muttered, blinking droplets out of her eyes as she started to make her way back toward the spaceport.
It would be a long walk, but she needed the time to think. She hoped that Vashti would still be expecting a report from her, but she had not seen or spoken with the queen since the recordings had leaked onto the HoloNet. Was it safe to return to Naboo? If Poe still intended to detain her, and if the rest of the Resistance had turned on her like he had—where could she go?
Rubbing her exposed right shoulder as a shiver ran through her, her fingers felt the scar that lingered there. And then hope kindled inside her. Ben had kept his word. He had promised her that he would change things, that he would make things better. And he was.
If only she could see him—speak to him again—maybe they could figure out a way to end this war.