“They’re clever enough.”
They were. However, Leia knew that her parents were at the core of this movement; any revelation of the rebellion’s existence would necessarily condemn them. Even if her parents could think of a way to conceal their involvement and protect themselves, they would scorn to do so if it meant it left their allies in jeopardy.
But telling Kier that would only worry him. Better to let him believe that some kind of safety could still exist. At least he was on their side.
Leia stepped closer to him. “You already promised never to say a word. But I need you to promise again.”
“I swear on Alderaan itself,” he repeated. His eyes met hers with that intensity she was coming to know so well. “Our secrets stay between us. Always.”
She wanted to hug him in thanks—or maybe she just wanted to hug him—but then the terrace doors swung open, revealing her parents and their guests. A few paces behind them rolled more servitor droids with glasses of Toniray. If Leia hadn’t felt so tense, it might have amused her, watching all of them pretending to have nothing more substantial on their minds than the beauty of the night and the sweetness of the wine.
Leia sent 2V to get recharged so she could ready herself for bed in silence. As she sat in front of the window, absently brushing her hair, she thought about what Kier had said. Were her parents being irresponsible to risk their world? Or would it be more irresponsible not to use the power and wealth of Alderaan in the service of good?
A rap on her door made her turn. “Yes?”
Her mother stepped in, her black hair hanging loose around her shoulders with the one lock of silver tracing the side of her face. What struck Leia the most was the mischief in her mother’s smile. “Well,” she said. “I thought I should mention—your father and I liked Kier Domadi very much.”
Someday, Leia hoped, she would be too old to blush. She wished that day would hurry up and arrive. “Oh. Um. He’s—” At the last minute, she decided to try a different tack. “Thank you for asking him.”
“We thought you should have some company for a change.” Breha spoke so sincerely that Leia felt bad for having suspected her mother of ulterior motives. “He’s intelligent, he carries himself with poise, he obviously thinks the world of you.”
How do you know that exactly? Leia wanted to ask, but kept her mouth shut.
Breha concluded, “And he’s very handsome, which a young man should be if at all possible. You’ve chosen well.”
Leia wasn’t sure she’d made any choices for sure yet, but something about her mother’s tone distracted her. “So what’s the problem?”
With a deliberately melodramatic sigh, Breha put one hand to the front of her scarlet silk wrapper. “I suppose a tiny bit of me hoped that my daughter’s first romance wouldn’t be so…suitable. Sometimes it does a girl good to fall for a bit of a scoundrel, now and then.”
An utterly novel idea occurred to Leia. “Mom—when you were young—you never—you wouldn’t—”
“Good night, dear.” Breha turned back toward the door.
“Mom?”
Her mother simply waved airily as she went out.
The question of exactly who her mom had fallen for before meeting her dad was equal parts disquieting and intriguing. Not even that could distract Leia for long. What she’d overheard tonight was far too incendiary for her to lie in bed thinking of anything else.
Mon Mothma’s right. It’s our responsibility to do something, even if we still have to figure out the best steps to take. And she talked to me like I was an adult, not a little kid. If she sees that I can be trusted, maybe my parents will see that too.
As Leia balled her pillow beneath her head, she began to shift her plans.
Forget winning over Mom and Dad.
If anyone’s going to bring me into this struggle against the Empire, it’s Mon Mothma.
The next day, Leia spent hours holed up in the library, eating fruit and bread from a tray and drinking countless cups of tea. Neither of her parents appeared, but if they had, she was completely prepared to show them what she was working on: a thorough review of every single planet on the list of “approved” mercy missions her father had put together. Going over those worlds’ cultures and needs was worthy and responsible, exactly the kind of behavior they would approve of.
They didn’t need to know that Leia was figuring out how to turn a voyage to one of these planets into action against the Empire.
Not action the way this Saw Gerrera person defined it. Not even the kind of action her father was preparing for on Crait. She understood the limits of what she could accomplish as a sixteen-year-old girl with a ship at her disposal and very little else. The most she could offer in the struggle against Emperor Palpatine was evidence.
The Empire presented a polished, impervious fa?ade that supposedly represented the strict rule of law. While they maintained many of the trappings of the Republic—modifying armor and uniform designs only slightly—those external signs of power had been made sharper, crisper, and more imposing. So much of Palpatine’s authority rested on the illusion that he alone had been able to provide order after the chaos of the Clone Wars. But what he called order was merely control, and that control was exercised solely for the benefit of the most powerful among his sycophants.
Planets that had their own wealth and influence remained sheltered from the worst of the Empire’s excesses. Leia had learned the truth first from her parents, then through her work in the Senate. Surely very few people were still completely deceived. But the galactic populace at large couldn’t possibly understand just how huge the gap was between Palpatine’s promises and the tyrannical reality.
They don’t see the worst of what he does, she thought, frowning as she crossed Dinwa Prime off the list of potential candidates. I can document some of that and get that documentation to the people who’ll know how to use it. That doesn’t put anyone at risk but me.
Not that her parents would want her to put herself at risk—but Leia didn’t think the danger would be too great. She had diplomatic immunity thanks to her work with the Senate and her status as a princess of Alderaan. Any number of plausible explanations would cover the kind of recordkeeping she intended to do.
But where to begin? She had to work from her father’s list, or else her parents would catch on before she’d had a chance to accomplish anything.
Ruoss Minor remained shattered after Palpatine’s last crackdown, but the harm had been done long ago, which meant proving the cause and effect might be difficult with her limited resources. Anelsana suffered in the aftermath of a trade embargo, but most of the proof of that would be found in their main cities, while her father had specifically limited her travel to the more rural northern continent….