She’d known from his dossier that he studied history, but she’d imagined him as someone who spent all of his spare time quietly bent over books. Apparently not. Note: Comes across as shy and silent, but he has a fighting spirit.
The lights fell on her as the amplifier droids hovered close. Leia stood, glad for her experience in public speaking. Some of the others had stammered or hesitated, but she addressed the chamber smoothly. “I’m Leia Organa, princess of the ruling house of Alderaan, heir to the crown, and now a member of the Apprentice Legislature. Since I expect to be involved with the Imperial Senate throughout my life, I’m glad to be able to make a start here, and I’m looking forward to getting to know you all.” There. She’d mentioned the royal status without overemphasizing it, and hopefully nobody would dwell on it….
Kier whispered, “Say something personal.” When Leia glanced at him, he raised his eyebrows. “Everyone else did.”
He was right. They were supposed to mention a hobby or personal interest of some kind, and she needed to follow the format. She collected herself to say…what?
I’ve studied Alderaan’s history going back to the first human settlement. That was part of her royal education. I’ve been an intern in my father’s senatorial office for two years. That wasn’t personal. I’m in a pathfinding class with a few other apprentice legislators. But that, too, was her Challenge of the Body, an official step on her way to being monarch. She’d never before realized that she didn’t really have a lot of personal interests; her duty and her future consumed nearly every moment, so completely that she hadn’t even been able to see it.
“I like storms,” she said. “Thunderstorms, I mean. I like to watch them.” With that she sat down, hands clasped in her lap. As the members from Glee Anselm began their introductions, she caught Kier watching her. No doubt he was wondering how a princess—no, how anyone could be so devoid of a personal life. “Mine was the dumbest one,” she murmured.
“It’s not dumb. It’s honest. Everybody else puffed themselves up, me included. You spoke from the heart. That takes courage.”
Either Kier Domadi was a deeply nice guy beneath all the awkwardness, or he had a big future in diplomacy. Leia gave him a broad smile before turning her attention to the other students, learning what she could about them from the few clues they gave.
What would someone be able to tell about her, from the fact that she liked thunderstorms?
She became more comfortable when they finally moved on to their first real order of business. The lights went down as a holographic image coalesced in the center of the senatorial chamber: four different star systems, from disparate parts of the galaxy. An automated voice spoke: “The issue: the Emperor will soon build a new academy of aeronautical engineering and design, but has not yet chosen a host planet. The Apprentice Legislature shall weigh the worlds according to the criteria provided in your session notes, and make your recommendation for the site of the new school.”
This was the kind of work the Apprentice Legislature undertook—no security issues, relatively low importance, but with real-world consequences. Leia cheered up at the prospect of flexing her senatorial muscles, because she’d learned a thing or two while working for her father.
One of the things she’d learned: even the simplest debate could turn into a total disaster.
“You can’t be serious!” demanded one of the apprentices from Malastare. “Iloh is the only choice!”
“How can you say that?” Harp’s cheeks flushed from the emotion of the debate. “Iloh is a waterworld. There’s hardly even space for a landing field! Harloff Minor is more suitable in every way.”
“Except for the high levels of air traffic,” Kier pointed out. He was one of the few still speaking in a normal tone of voice. “At least with Iloh, the skies are free for test flights and experimental designs, including the ones that could be unstable.”
Chassellon gestured toward the hovering hologram planet nearest him. “Not one person is going to think of Lonera?”
“It’s practically in the Expansion Region,” scoffed someone in the Arkanis pod.
Sssamm hissed that this would be a problem if nobody had ever figured out how to fly past lightspeed. Since they had, what was the issue?
More squabbling broke out, until the moderator droid began to blink yellow. The warning quieted people, but made them sullen too. Everybody wants to win the first debate, she thought. The point of a negotiation is to make each party feel as though they’ve won.
“If I might,” she began, speaking for the first time since very early on. “We’re spending almost all of our time talking about three of the four worlds. Nobody’s argued on behalf of Arreyel.”
After a few seconds of silence, Chassellon said, “For good reason.” A few murmured assent.
Arreyel was a small Inner Rim world, a former Separatist planet that had never recovered from choosing the wrong side in those disastrous wars. It had fallen into disfavor with the Emperor early in his reign for reasons that were now murky, almost forgotten, but the stain lingered. Arreyel’s economy was depressed, and with no unique materials or talents to offer, the planet had little chance of improving its fortunes soon—
—unless something important were to be built there. For instance, a major new Imperial academy.
“I admit, Arreyel isn’t the first planet that comes to mind.” Leia gestured toward the hologram in a way that expanded Arreyel’s system to fill more of the space. The blue-and-white planet rotated before her. “But it was included in this group of four. That means the Emperor’s open to doing something there again. The world has a chance to start over.”
“That’s not really the question,” Kier said. Somehow he managed to speak in a tone of voice that made it clear he wasn’t arguing with her, only expanding the discussion. “We’re supposed to choose the planet best for the school, not the world that would benefit the most.”
Leia held out her arms, encompassing the entire apprentice chamber. “After the past two hours, I think we all know—none of these worlds is clearly better than the rest. They all have pros and cons, but they’re evenly matched. Any of these planets would make a good home for the academy. So that frees us to consider which one would benefit the most. That’s clearly Arreyel.”
People remained quiet for a few moments, until Chassellon shrugged and said, “Might as well spread the wealth.”
Not everyone agreed—but they got the votes needed to push it through. With Arreyel chosen, everyone applauded, and Leia couldn’t help feeling proud. She’d found a way to do a good deed from the very heart of Palpatine’s government; that was how you could sometimes make the system work.
“Good job,” Kier said.
Like she needed this guy to tell her how to operate in the Senate. “I know.”
He gave her a sidelong look then, and she wasn’t sure whether he was amused or offended. She hoped she was equally mysterious to him.
But mostly she was thinking about telling her parents of her accomplishment…whenever she next got to speak with them.