“It’s just—a lot.”
Dalné nodded in resignation. “After I was elected queen, it took me months to get used to the weight of the headdresses. The one I’m wearing now is one of the lightest. Though the one that goes with the jubilation dress is really very easy to—”
“No, no.” Leia held up one hand. “I don’t want to come across like I’m pretending to be queen myself.”
This amused Dalné. “You’re overqualified to be a handmaiden!”
As Batten sped the Polestar over the tall swaying grasses of Onoam, Leia listened to Dalné talk about all the many roles Naboo handmaidens had played in the past, serving as everything from personal counselors to intelligence operatives. The tradition had faded as the queen became more of a figurehead than a ruler, but handmaidens still had to qualify through a series of mental and physical tests that would’ve challenged even Imperial Academy cadets.
What must it have been like, to be a true queen of Naboo? The weight of it would be heavy, Leia thought, in every way—from the responsibility for a whole planet to the ceremonial headdresses. Even some of the gowns in Dalné’s closet must have weighed five or six kilos. Thank goodness Alderaan’s royal traditions called for nothing more than the monarch wearing braids.
Batten would stay with the Polestar, which set down a respectable distance from the chalet. Imperial security regulations didn’t bend, not even for princesses or queens. It was a civilian worker who registered the landing, however, an odd tall fellow who wore a breathing mask. How strange it must be for him, surrounded by such natural beauty and fresh air he couldn’t safely inhale.
The veils of her cape rippled around Leia’s feet as she and Dalné climbed the steps leading to the moff’s chalet, an imposing structure built of thick beams of richly patterned red wood. But she was able to walk smoothly and with assurance, and with no fear of tripping. She hadn’t been a princess her whole life without learning how to deal with a gown that had a train.
A squat little LEP droid showed them into a high-ceilinged room with broad windows that revealed the beautiful vista spreading out to the horizon in three directions. But that, Leia noted, was the space’s one true luxury. Most higher Imperial officials liked to surround themselves with the overripe glamour of ill-gotten gains: statues looted from museums, ostentatiously expensive furnishings, and the like. Moff Panaka preferred the simple and practical, while still showing good taste.
Despite her many years of experience with Imperial authorities, Leia began to feel hopeful. Dalné had told her Panaka was a decent man. This room confirmed at least that he wasn’t like most of the Empire’s higher-ups. Maybe negotiating would actually get them somewhere.
“Your Majesty.” The deep masculine voice rang through the room. Leia half-turned to see a tall, handsome, dark-skinned man walking toward the queen, a cup in hand. He was about her father’s age, though not quite as tall, and flecks of gray marked the hair at his temples. Another LEP droid waddled behind him with a steaming pot and more cups for the guests. Moff Panaka continued, “You caught me having my afternoon tea. I hope you and your guest will—”
Panaka’s gaze finally turned to Leia. He stopped short, eyes wide with shock. Although he managed to hold on to his cup, some of his tea splashed onto the floor.
“Moff Panaka, are you well?” Dalné hurried forward as the little droid reached out an extender to mop up the spill.
“Of course. Forgive me. Your guest—reminded me of someone else.” Recovering his dignity, Panaka straightened and walked toward Leia, seemingly at ease again. Yet she could see the intense curiosity in his eyes. “You are Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan?”
“Yes, Moff Panaka. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Leia felt more disconcerted by Panaka’s odd behavior than she should’ve. Instead of engaging in the usual pleasantries, she got directly to the point. “We need to discuss the situation of the miners here on Onoam.”
He took a deep breath, still visibly steadying himself. “By all means. Let’s discuss this over tea, assuming there’s any left in the pot instead of on the floor.”
She smiled. It wasn’t much of a joke, but it was more than many Imperials would offer. Surely it had to be a good sign, especially after such an awkward beginning.
They sat with Panaka on his terrace overlooking a narrow river that gleamed like silver in the sunlight. Leia laid out what they had seen in the mines, and described the problems Ti Vorne had told them of, though she knew not to mention the miner’s name. Panaka pressed his lips together, perhaps in anger, as she spoke, and she could tell the anger was for Imperial grifters.
“Of course Emperor Palpatine encourages a certain degree of”—Panaka sought a word that would be tactful enough—“initiative among its officers. They’re meant to handle disobedience through economic means when possible, rather than resort to violence.”
Is that what you’re calling it? People should be grateful they’re being robbed instead of being shot? Leia simply nodded and gave him a noncommittal “Mmm-hmm.”
Panaka shook his head. “The problem arises when less experienced officers begin to believe they can act this way against all citizens, instead of only lawbreakers. We need to be vigilant against such behavior, or else discipline among the troops will disintegrate.”
Virtually every other planet in the Empire saw “such behavior” constantly. However, maybe Moff Quarsh Panaka was willing to make sure Naboo wasn’t one of them. Leia ventured, “If you could establish some oversight in the mines—beginning now, with the new equipment I’ve brought—that could begin to make a real difference.”
“Then let it be done,” Panaka said.
She turned to Dalné, smiling in victory. Although Dalné smiled back, the elaborate makeup on her face couldn’t disguise that she was as confused as happy. Apparently Panaka wasn’t always as obliging. Why was he making an exception in Leia’s case?
He settled back in his wroshyr-wood chair, teacup still in hand, though he hadn’t drunk from it in so long that the tea had to be cold. “It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I met your father a few times during the Clone Wars.”
Leia brightened. Ever since the earliest days of her childhood, she’d thrilled to her father’s stories of adventure during the wars. When she’d been tiny, he’d kept the stories simple—tales of narrow escapes, or dashingly heroic Jedi Knights. As she grew older, he’d talked to her more about the diplomacy, the complexity, and the tragedy of the battles. Still, she couldn’t resist thinking of the Clone Wars as exciting. “Did you serve together with him and General Kenobi?”