Their craft slipped into a grotto, then surfaced into one of the underground pockets of air in which the Chalhuddans lived. Leia had seen members of this species before—they did travel and trade, however sparingly—but was still caught off by the sheer size of them. Chalhuddans stood nearly as tall as a dewback, with shimmery olive-toned skin, two tall hornlike protrusions on either side of their heads, and black manes that were neither tentacles nor fur but somehow in between the two.
The protocol droid, designated C-3PO, piped up, “In case you were unaware, Your Highness, Chalhuddans have five different genders and shift through them throughout their lives. Their native pronoun cases are rather complex—indicating not only current gender but two or three previous ones, and occasionally the gender they feel most likely to be next, but as our language has no equivalent words, ‘you’ or ‘they’ can be used in all cases.”
Leia didn’t think she’d be needing that many pronouns, but protocol droids never knew when to stop—this one in particular. “Thank you, See-Threepio.”
This mission promised to be brief, very nearly rote. She would drop off the vaccines, accept the Chalhuddans’ thanks, and leave. The next session of the Apprentice Legislature would begin soon, and she was eager to return to Coruscant. Partly this was because it would be good to get back to work, but she was also looking forward to seeing her friends again—Kier most of all.
This won’t even take five minutes, she thought as they drifted to the disembarkation point. If my father has to pick out my missions, at least he chose quick and easy ones.
Or so she thought, until five minutes later, when she stood in front of the Chalhuddan leader and repeated, “You refuse to accept the vaccines?”
“We refuse your pity. We refuse your condescension.” Their leader, Occo Quentto, puffed out the air sac under their lower lip, rendering them even more intimidating. “Always, we have supported ourselves, and we always shall.”
“This—this isn’t some kind of threat to your independence.” Leia had never imagined such a response, and struggled to even come up with words. “It’s not intended as condescension—”
“Of course not!” bellowed Occo Quentto. “You dry ones think yourselves so high above us that you never ask what we would think of you. You speak falsely, with elaborate words that mean nothing, instead of dealing with us as honest beings. We do not trust you, we do not like you, we do not want you. Go away.”
Occo Quentto began to waddle off their high dais to approving croaks from the other Chalhuddans, leaving Leia standing there with her mouth agape. She looked over to Captain Antilles, who shrugged.
Think of something! She called, “Occo Quentto! Please, hear me out.”
They kept waddling. “I have heard you. You think we have no strength. You think we have no pride.”
That did it. Leia shouted, “To hell with pride!”
The Chalhuddans fell silent as one. Occo Quentto shuffled around to face Leia again, protruding eyes staring at her in what was probably indignation.
Leia was past caring. She was too angry for diplomacy, so angry she shook. “This disease is killing your children! If that were happening on my planet, and the only way to save them was to swallow my pride, I’d do it. I’d go down on my knees in the dirt. I would beg or plead or do anything to preserve the lives of my people. If you wouldn’t do the same, you don’t deserve to be a leader.”
Her last words echoed in the grotto for what seemed like a very long time. The Chalhuddans stared at her; so did Captain Antilles. In a low voice, C-3PO said, “Oh, dear, this isn’t going well at all.”
Leia wondered if she ought to regret what she’d said, but she didn’t. She was right.
Then Occo Quentto nodded. “At last one of them speaks their mind.” A few other Chalhuddans croaked their assent. “You are still arrogant, but at least you are honest. So few dry ones are.”
Leia decided to let the epithet dry one go. “Does that mean you’ll take the vaccines?”
Occo Quentto stood still and silent for so long that Leia went past worrying they would say no to wondering if they’d gone into some kind of trance. Finally, however, Occo Quentto said, “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You must ask a favor of us in return. You cannot come to us as a wealthy savior. You must come to us as an equal. That means you must owe us a debt equal to the one we will owe to you.”
What am I supposed to ask for? Swamp water? But Leia thought fast. “I, ah, wouldn’t want to call on you for a favor undeserving of your generosity, Occo Quentto. May I claim this favor at some point in the future? When I have a worthy task, I’ll ask you.” She folded her arms and looked as stern as she could manage. “And when I do? I’ll expect you to come through.”
Occo Quentto blew a huge bubble, which floated in the air. C-3PO leaned forward. “Your Highness, that is the way in which Chalhuddans laugh.”
She began to be able to read the expressions on Occo Quentto’s face, and this one was very close to a smile. “We are willing to be in your debt, as long as it is not for too long.”
“Is that a yes?” Leia said. And this time, she knew the smile for sure.
A few days later, as she hurried along one of the skyways of Coruscant, Leia was still rehearsing the story in her mind. Which detail would be most likely to make Kier laugh?
Nearby, a shimmering electronic screen showed the Emperor’s face as various patriotic slogans slithered along the bottom. The image of Sheev Palpatine had to be decades old. She’d never been in the Emperor’s presence personally, but she’d heard the whispers about his ghastly appearance and bleached-white skin. The man seen on the screens, however, looked like any other middle-aged man, smiling pleasantly. She thought it might be the same images they’d used for the past two decades, but with occasional digital editing to update his clothing to more current styles. Everyone had to know the images were fake—humans showed the marks of greater age within twenty years—but nobody ever said so out loud
We live so many lies, Leia thought. Maybe Occo Quentto had a point about “dry ones” never telling the truth.
When she entered the antechamber of the Apprentice Legislature, she brightened to see Kier already chatting with a few of their peers, especially when he caught sight of her and immediately excused himself to walk in her direction. Leia would’ve started toward him, too, if Amilyn Holdo hadn’t appeared in front of her, wearing green hair, glittery metallic pompons on her many ponytails, and a tragic expression on her face.
“It’s a time of great mourning,” Amilyn said, taking Leia’s hands. “I know you grieve even as I do.”
“Did someone die?” Leia hurriedly glanced around the room. Nobody seemed to be missing.
“Leia.” Kier’s voice was pitched just above a whisper. “I tried to reach you earlier today. I wanted to tell you the news personally, when we weren’t in public.”
A knot had formed in Leia’s stomach. “Tell me what?”
Amilyn said, “The Apprentice Legislature received a special commendation for recommending Arreyel for the new academy.”
Leia frowned. How was that bad news?