Chapter 7: Traveling to Coruscant
Jedi Master Mace Windu was not happy. He was not happy at all.
It wasn't the accommodations. The CR-90 corvette was newly built and far roomier than their party required, even with the Alderaanian Senate delegation aboard. His quarters were adequate, and even the food was to his taste.
Nor was he sorry to have spent nearly a month on Alderaan. When Queen Breha realized he would be staying until Leia…Master Organa…returned to Coruscant, she made a small cabin available to him, the perfect place for a jedi to retreat and commune with the Force in the midst of the stunning landscape of the Jural Mountains. Physically and mentally, he felt reinvigorated, more than ready to return to his duties on the Jedi Council.
No, he had no complaints about his treatment. The royal family had provided everything he could have wished for. They simply refused to follow his advice. Oh, they listened, or at least politely pretended to listen, but it did no good. They were sending Leia Organa, current heir to the throne of their planet, a time-traveler who was clearly keeping more secrets than she was sharing, to Coruscant to…he could hardly believe it…establish an Alderaanian Jedi Order and open diplomatic relations with the Temple on Coruscant.
Mace tried to tell them. He recounted the violent history of jedi splinter sects. He pointed out that the Sith, the Sith, began as a sect of jedi, one which refused to follow the established Code.
"Master Jedi," the Queen had told him, "I'm sure you're correct. But Leia's master could hardly have followed a code that no longer existed or joined a temple in ruins, could he? And she is a jedi. Her master accepted her as a knight, and after his death, she trained her own apprentice. Only a master can train an apprentice, yes? It is hardly her fault that the rest of her order hasn't been born yet. They will exist because Leia exists, and we will give them a home."
There is a hole in that logic, Mace thought, somewhere. Time travel is obviously a tool of the dark side. It hurts my head too much to be otherwise.
More inexplicable than this insane project, was the make up of Leia's…order. First among them was Gretta Antilles, who had absolutely no Force abilities whatsoever. Yet here she was, wearing the new modified jedi costume Leia and her aunts had designed, spending hours in quiet discussion with Master Organa. Mace had absolutely no idea what they could be talking about. When he'd protested that Leia could not create an order out of non-Force users, she had merely told him that "Everyone is a part of the Force, Master Windu. Surely, one of your experience knows that." Then she turned to her younger companion and told him some wildly unlikely tale about a practically force-blind Mandalorian who became one of the most skilled jedi in the galaxy.
But at least Lady Antilles was harmless. Not so Halagad Ventor, who had immense potential in the Force, but absolutely no control of his own emotions. He had been rejected by more than one master due to his lack of discipline. But after an hour alone with Leia, he had emerged entirely subdued. He sat now alone in the dining hall, shuffling and reshuffling a pack of cards, refusing to speak to anyone.
The last member of Leia's group was fifteen-year old Kalf Arranda, who had shown up at the palace babbling about a fleet of kyber crystal-powered dreadnoughts. Leia took his visions seriously enough to invite him to join them, guiding him through his first lessons in meditation. Privately, Mace suspected Arranda was damaged in some way, but he did sense Force potential in the boy, and apparently, Leia intended to consult Master Yoda about his education.
Weak, damaged and rejected: these were the beings at the foundation of the Alderaanian Order. And with these, Leia Organa planned to save the galaxy?
"Are you sure you don't want something a bit closer to the embassy?" Gretta Antilles asked. "Security might be a problem."
Leia looked at the map of Coruscant spread out on the table between them. "This is the only building we've found that fits our needs," she answered. "It's mid-level, neither so high as to intimidate beings without wealth and power, nor so deep as to be a target for gangs. And if you're right about the architecture…"
"I'm quite certain. Only Mir Selon of Chandrila designed angles and curves like those. It may have been updated with that awful industrial façade when the last owner divided it into apartments, but underneath, you'll find a Selon-style boutique, possibly with an enclosed pavillon. Of course, most of the walls will have to be torn out to restore it."
"A worthy project, no matter how long we occupy the space. At least one floor should retain the division into apartments, with updated facilities, of course. The various showrooms will be perfect for training. You've spoken to the Coruscant Historical Association?" Leia asked.
"Hmmph!" Gretta responded. "They are pleased to have a project to fund. They've run out of orphanages and towers. This way they can hold more galas and praise themselves for their generosity. Still, House Antilles will contribute. I want our name on the building, if only to remind those fools who voted Palpatine Supreme Chancellor who they could have had leading the Republic."
Leia did not respond to her cousin's bitterness. She had warned her family that there was a Sith Lord on Coruscant, one which the jedi had not detected, but she had not told them it was Palpatine. That was the most dangerous knowledge she possessed, and she needed to know far more about Darth Sidious's abilities before she risked the lives of those she cared about by dropping that information into their minds.
"I do wish we could collaborate without the pretense that I am a member of your order, Princess," Gretta complained. "No one is going to find it remotely plausible that I am training to be a jedi. I will be a laughingstock."
"You will not," Leia assured her. "They will be confused and intimidated, even worried. And I know you know how to handle any verbal barbs. Besides, it isn't a pretense. You are a member of the order. I intend to invite all of my jedi students to bring their families with them when they join."
"Master Windu will have a stroke," Gretta warned. "Do you really think the Jedi Council will allow this? The formation of a rival order right under their noses?"
"If they object, I will threaten to move us all to Alderaan before its temple is finished." She leaned back thoughtfully. "They will want to keep us close, hoping to monitor what I'm doing. Provided we do not draw too much attention from the Senate, we will be fine. Besides, with your guidance, we will be spending a great deal of money in just the right places during this restoration. The Senate might be nervous about us, but they will not make a move while we are filling the coffers of their businesses."
"Not all of the senators can be bought," Gretta noted. "Naboo, for example, always votes ideologically."
"I had some thoughts about that," Leia told her. "What if we dedicated one of the outside walls—the southeast façade, where all this damage has been done—to local art work? We could invite young artists to compete to decorate it with public-facing art, and rotate it every six months or so. That sort of thing will go a long way toward alleviating any concerns about what we are doing inside the building."
"And admiring the artwork will give the most wary parties the opportunity to try to monitor us by having an excuse to get close. Yes, that might work." Gretta picked up her glass of flavored water. "Providing, of course, your Sith Lord doesn't take an interest."
"I plan to give him far more important things to worry about than a weak cult of wannabe jedi," Leia told her. "By the time he discovers what I really am, it will be too late for him." She took a deep breath. "I hope. And if I'm wrong, well, I will try to take him down with me."
"Princess Leia?" G2N1, the protocol droid her mother had gifted her, glided into the room. "The contact you asked me to make has answered your call. Do you wish to take it here?"
"No, thank you, Genni," Leia answered. "I will take it in my quarters. Until later, Lady Antilles."
Leia hurried down the corridor, her heart rate accelerating. When she reached her rooms, she carefully switched on the holographic filter that would give her the appearance of a much older woman before opening the channel to find a hardened smuggler with silver-streaked hair on the other end. "I don't like this, Rey Starkiller, or whatever your name is. I don't like this at all. This is a nice lady."
"Of course, she is, Mr. Terrik. That's why she deserves her freedom. You had no trouble?"
"I want to know what you want her for. I'm smuggler, not a slave trader." The man on the other end folded his arms and glared at her.
Leia smiled to herself. She certainly makes an impression if Booster Terrik has taken up her cause, especially with what I'm paying him, she thought. Frankly, she was grateful to have the Organa fortune at her fingertips again, and not just so that she could wear decent boots. Besides, her father had enthusiastically approved her use of a resettlement grant for this very personal project. "Put her on the transport, as instructed. She will be met at the spaceport on Coruscant. Tell her that she's going to be reunited with her son."
Leia heard a murmur in the background. "What's this son's name then?" the smuggler demanded.
"Anakin," Leia answered, "Anakin Skywalker. Slavery is illegal on Coruscant, Mr. Terrick. Tell your passenger that as soon as her transport touches down, Shmi Skywalker is a free woman."