“Viceroy? Your Majesty?” Captain Antilles appeared in one of the doorways. He had the tense, distracted look that Leia was beginning to recognize. “We should speak in your office.”
Her parents instantly walked out, without another word to Leia. She wasn’t offended. Obviously they were discussing their actions against the Empire—whatever those were—and those were conversations Leia still had to earn her way into. The trip to Onoam would be a critical step toward that goal. At least this target was a safe one. What place could be farther from anti-Imperial activity than Palpatine’s home planet?
They’d be nothing but happy to learn of her trip to the Naboo system.
As the Polestar slid through the electric blue of hyperspace, Leia ventured, “Seems like it’s been longer than a couple of weeks since we traveled together last.”
“Has it been?” Ress Batten said. She seemed very interested in the controls in front of her, too much to even look up. “Maybe I’m getting it mixed up with another flight. The trips all start to run together in my head after a while.”
Disconcerted, Leia turned back to her datapad, but the information on the screen meant nothing. Her thoughts ran in other directions.
It made no sense for Batten to declare, Yes, I remember traveling to that illegal military outpost and running into your father there! Acknowledging what they’d seen would be hazardous for both of them, and for Bail Organa too. Still, Leia found their shared silence uncomfortable. Maybe I only want someone to talk to about this, she thought. Someone besides my parents.
But Ress Batten couldn’t be her confidant. If she admitted what she knew, it could only put them at risk; her father had always said you shouldn’t put anyone in royal service in jeopardy without their free consent. Besides, Batten was sworn to serve as a pilot and an officer, not as a would-be conspirator, much less as a friend.
The divide between princess and pilot was one her mother had warned her about. The palace can be an isolated place, Leia, Breha had said to her little girl many times, beginning when she was too small to understand how their happy home could ever be lonely. We have so many privileges, but we have to make sacrifices, too. We have to bear our burdens on our own.
That still didn’t make total sense to Leia. Her parents supported each other, and they could have her support too if they’d just make her a part of their plans to push back against the Emperor.
But this painful silence—this awkwardness between her and the other person on this ship, where neither of them would admit what they’d seen—that was one of those burdens Breha had spoken of.
She’d have to get used to carrying the weight.
Leia’s plans didn’t call for traveling to Naboo itself. She hadn’t been in any hurry to set foot on Palpatine’s homeworld, but as the Polestar settled into Onoam orbit and Naboo hung large in the starfield, she felt an unexpected pang. It was a beautiful planet—green and blue, laced with faint misty clouds—and surely it could be forgiven for one of its citizens turning out so badly.
Then she reminded herself of Wobani, and Arreyel, and countless other worlds that had once been this beautiful before they were poisoned by Palpatine’s Empire. She couldn’t enjoy Naboo’s beauty knowing the cost of so much of its prosperity.
Anyway, their destination had its own charms. Unlike most moons and smaller planets with mines, Onoam remained a lovely place to be—at least, on the surface. Gentle winds stirred tall grasses that spread across vast rolling planes, beneath a pinkish sky. Many wealthier citizens of Naboo had second homes there, including the provincial governor of this sector, and only a few kilometers from the spaceport stood a secondary royal palace.
As chance would have it, the royal personage in question happened to be visiting Onoam. Leia knew enough protocol to know that even their mercy mission had to wait for an hour or two, because it was the duty of a princess to call on a queen.
“You are welcome to our system, Princess,” said Queen Dalné in the lower, more formal voice traditional for the ruler of her world. She sat on a high golden throne, dressed in the sumptuous regalia of a ruler of Naboo; her long robes were a shade of violet so dark it was nearly black, shot through with ornate silver embroidery. Her dark hair had been woven through the lattices of a silver headdress that spread out like a fan, and white makeup on her face made the red on her lips look stark. “If we had been given more notice of your visit, we could have prepared a banquet in your honor.”
“I hadn’t expected to find you here,” Leia said, which was as close to an apology as necessary. “I had thought surely the many concerns of your world would keep you on Naboo.” Uh-oh. Did that sound like she was criticizing the queen? Great. Your second diplomatic incident in two trips. At this rate you’ll start a war before the month is out.
Yet Queen Dalné smiled, a touch sadly. “Once the queens of Naboo truly were rulers of this world. But since our Senator Palpatine has become emperor, his governors have taken Naboo’s concerns in hand. Really there is very little for me to do beyond the ceremonial.”
Breha’s words came to mind again: The palace can be an isolated place. Dalné was a girl no older than Leia herself, with no ruler parents to support her and no meaningful duties to perform. She led a life of gilded luxury that some would envy, but Leia understood the bars of the cage around her.
Still, royalty didn’t have to mean total solitude. “Your Majesty, if you have both the time and the will, you could join me today. We’ll be distributing safety equipment to the miners.” She half expected Dalné to refuse immediately. No doubt there were political pitfalls to this that Leia, as an outsider, couldn’t understand.
Instead, the queen of Naboo smiled. Her heavy makeup could no longer conceal her true face. “I have the will, Princess Leia, and so I shall make the time.”
According to the files Leia had studied, the relationship between Naboo and its mining colony on Onoam had always been fractious. A generation before, the miners had repeatedly gone on strike for larger shares of the profits, and some splinter groups had even committed minor political violence—breaking windows and security shields, even burning a vacant warehouse on Naboo itself.