The famine on Chasmeene.
Leia sat up straight, re-angling her screen to avoid the glare of the afternoon sun now filtering through the tall windows. The famine on Chasmeene had raged for years now, but it had begun when retaliatory strikes by the Empire irradiated vast swaths of farmland. The “crime” for which that planet was being punished: failing to meet an Imperial quota. It was a punishment that might devastate Chasmeene for generations to come. She could take readings to prove the source and extremity of the damage done; the signs of it might even be visible in regular holo images.
A smile stole across her face as she thought, Thanks for the suggestion, Dad.
Famine relief required considerable stores of food, seeds, and agricultural equipment, which meant it was necessary for Leia to commandeer the Tantive IV. She’d have been tempted to take that ship in any case; it was easier to avoid being noticed in the middle of a larger bustle of activity.
As the crew hurried around, preparing shipment bundles for each area they’d help, she began looking for a little help of her own. I’ll need to be involved virtually every moment; it’s not like I don’t want to help these people too. But these images have to be carefully shot, not chosen at random….
“You, there,” she said to one of Captain Antilles’s droids, a blue-and-silver astromech. “Can you help me?”
It whistled in the affirmative, immediately wheeling over to her side of the cargo bay. Leia leaned down closer to it—the instinctive movement of someone who wanted to keep a secret, even if the droid was capable of “hearing” instructions whispered from much farther away. “I have special instructions for you.”
The little droid’s semispherical head seemed to look up at her as it tilted back on its arms. She found herself smiling; it was always nice when a droid had personality—though what she needed most now was discretion.
“I need you to keep these instructions secret,” she ordered. “That means you reveal them to no one, not even Captain Antilles. I promise they don’t break any regulations.”
The droid hesitated for a moment, a startlingly lifelike act, but then beeped in affirmation.
Leia lowered her voice even more. “I need you to take holos and scans of the surface of Chasmeene, most particularly the areas targeted by the retaliatory strikes from a few years ago. They’re mapped out here.” With that, she slid a datacard into the reader slot just beneath the droid’s semispherical head. “Get as much information as you can, all right? I want everything.”
The droid whistled cheerfully and then rolled off, directly toward the central area for ship’s sensors. Clever little thing, she thought.
And that gave her another idea.
“One more thing?” The droid stopped rolling and turned its head around to face her as she hurried after it. “If you have the chance—maybe you could tap into the local databanks to back some of this up? I know that gets closer to violating regulations, but if you put it through as ‘cross-referencing ship sensors’ as a kind of maintenance check, I bet you won’t be blocked.”
Apparently the droid agreed, because with a few clicks and whistles, it went back to its task.
The only hint of trouble came at the very end of their stay, when Captain Antilles began easing the Tantive IV out of orbit, only to have a holographic image of a commander in the Imperial Navy shimmer into unwelcome life on the bridge.
“I’m afraid a review of our long-term databanks reveals we’ve picked up some highly irregular scans,” the commander said, her thin face pointed in nose, chin, and glare. “Someone on your ship may well be responsible. We’ll want to run a search.”
Keeping Captain Antilles out of the loop had been a good idea, Leia realized, because even a professional actor couldn’t have been as believably indignant. “This is a diplomatic vessel with clearance! We were here on a mission of mercy, as your own records should show. This is harassment of a member of the Imperial Senate, Commander, and it will be reported.”
An apprentice legislator as a “member of the Imperial Senate”—that was stretching the truth a little bit. Leia’s best move now was to stretch it more, until it broke. She came up to the hologram, wide-eyed, making sure to appear slightly nervous. That always made her look younger. “Is something wrong, Captain Antilles? I didn’t mean to—” Turning to the Imperial commander, Leia clasped her hands together as if beseeching her. “I’m only a member of the Apprentice Legislature. I promise, I didn’t mean any harm.”
Captain Antilles gave her a sideways glance suggesting he didn’t relish being publicly undercut in this way. Then again, he didn’t know Leia was guilty. So he couldn’t fully appreciate the relief that flooded through her as the Imperial commander’s expression shifted from doubt, to contempt, all the way to amusement.
Nobody looked at a young girl and saw a threat. That was an advantage her parents didn’t understand yet, one Leia intended to use to the fullest.
“I stand corrected,” the commander said, a thin-lipped smirk on her face. With a hand gesture, she signaled to someone outside of the holographic imager, and various flashing red signals on the Tantive IV bridge controls turned green again. “Far be it from me to importune such a critical member of the government.”
As the ship swooped out of orbit, one of the bridge officers muttered, “They get more paranoid all the time.” Captain Antilles didn’t respond out loud, but the expression on his face revealed a moment of satisfaction; Leia could imagine him thinking, Good. They should be afraid.
She made her way over to a small dataport alcove where the blue-and-silver astromech had tucked itself. Bending low in front of the droid, she murmured, “We cut it a little close there.”
In response, the droid brought up one of the screens, which began to flash with data. A lot of data. Leia’s breath caught as she realized that the droid hadn’t only gathered information about the current state of Chasmeene, but had also collected information going back years—decades?—which proved beyond any doubt the Empire’s direct responsibility for the devastation. Few humans would’ve shown such initiative, and even fewer droids.
“This is perfect,” she said. The astromech whistled in a self-satisfied way, as though saying, I know.
Exhilarated, Leia input the commands to prepare multiple datacards. She’d rarely felt as powerful as she did in this moment, when she held the proof of Palpatine’s wrongdoing in her hands.
Her euphoria lasted for two days, until she returned to Coruscant and brought her evidence to the person she thought most likely to take action.
“Your Highness,” Mon Mothma said, perhaps using the title to soften her words, “I’m afraid we can’t do much with this.”