Lolet would be far from the first planet to suffer such a fate. It would follow the dark pattern set by Umbara, Raxus, Gossam….
It’s a puppet show for children, she thought bitterly. We’re both the audience and the props.
The Gatalentan pod swooped down, bringing Amilyn Holdo into the limelight. Holdo’s hair had been dyed the same green as her cloak, though at least only the cloak had little bells sewn all over it. “If I may have this assembly’s attention—surprises are yet in store!” Then she caught herself. “I mean, I have some more information that might shed light on this subject.”
From the Glee Anselm pod, Leia heard someone mutter, “Is this where she tells us how her dreams prophesy future fashion trends or something?” She would’ve glared at them for ridiculing a fellow apprentice, if that prediction hadn’t sounded exactly like something Amilyn would say.
Amilyn’s long face was tinted blue by the lights of the three-dimensional charts she brought up on the holos. “If you’ll look at this, you’ll see that it represents Lolet’s fuel reserves at the period in question. Those levels are much lower than usual, to the point most planets would consider themselves in a state of crisis. My research indicates that the Lolet had taxed their reserves almost to the breaking point while evacuating one of their moons after major geological instability earlier in the year. They didn’t give the Empire the requested fuel because they didn’t have it.”
It seemed to Leia as though she hadn’t known she was asleep until Amilyn’s words had woken her up. While she’d been searching for proof of Imperial wrongdoing in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, it was Amilyn Holdo who’d turned up another crime right under their noses. Never again would she let her mood make her so careless.
“They had it!” protested the kid from Arkanis. “The chart clearly shows they could’ve filled the quota.”
“Only by completely depleting their reserves,” Amilyn answered, pointing one of her skinny arms toward the holographic chart; she was so long-limbed it looked as though she might push her finger through the blue columns of data. “Lolet would have had nothing left to deal with any future emergencies in their system. Imagine their—” She visibly caught herself; at least she was trying to come across like a normal person, even if she wasn’t quite managing it. “No regulations require a planet to put itself at risk in that way.”
The Arkanis kid was unbowed. “No regulations say a planet can hold fuel back for that reason, either. If the Imperial Starfleet reported Lolet, and we’ve been assigned to levy sanctions, then that means planets are supposed to hand over that fuel when the Empire needs it.”
“Besides,” one of the Glee Anselm apprentices chimed in, “why does Lolet have to worry about some hypothetical emergency that might never happen? If something did come up, they could call on the Empire for help.”
Amilyn shook her head. “The Empire doesn’t always respond to those calls!”
It felt like a punch to Leia’s gut. Saying such things even in private, among friends, felt like a risk. Only someone as guileless as Amilyn Holdo would ever speak a truth that explosive in public.
“Excuse me?” The Arkanis apprentice seized the opportunity. “The Emperor has made it clear that his concern extends to all his peoples, and denying that is very nearly an act of treason!”
Or sedition, Leia thought automatically.
Kier leaned so close to her that she could feel his breath against her ear as he whispered, “We have to come up with a distraction, or else this is going to end with stormtroopers dragging Holdo off to jail.”
She nodded—he was right—but what kind of distraction could they possibly come up with? For one crazy moment, Leia imagined pretending their pod was broken and driving it wildly through the air like this was kiddie bump-speeders instead of a legislative assembly.
Amilyn either hadn’t caught on to the danger yet or didn’t care. “It’s a big galaxy! Entire planets sometimes escape our notice! That’s just—natural.”
“Maybe it’s natural for you,” sniped the Glee Anselm apprentice. “With your head filled with feathers—that’s why they’re always poking from your hair, I bet.”
Leia decided rage was distracting. She got to her feet and raised her voice. “That’s enough! If you’re shallow enough to care about what anybody’s wearing, then maybe you need to go back to playing with the other children and leave governing to people who’ve grown up a little.”
The Glee Anselm apprentice had the grace to look embarrassed, but that only seemed to goad the one from Arkanis. “So you think it’s appropriate to criticize the Emperor in public?”
As baited hooks went, that one was pretty clumsy. Leia only raised an eyebrow. “I think criticizing other apprentices’ clothing choices in public demeans this entire assembly.”
Amilyn didn’t appear to know a lifeline when she saw one. “I just don’t think it’s right to penalize a planet for—for—” She struggled for words that wouldn’t doom her, and came up short.
But that was when Kier cut in, “For a lack of clarity in the law. As you’ve said, no regulations clearly state what a planet is supposed to do in this situation.”
Leia seized on this. “Exactly. What we need to do is recommend new language for the legal code, so no other world will make a mistake out of confusion, like Lolet did.”
The idea of recommending new legal code was novel for most of the apprentice legislators, and exciting—a hint at real authority. Immediately people began discussing who might draft the language and how they’d present it. Even the ones who wanted to make an example of Lolet were eager to establish a new regulation that would turn their severity into law.
It occurred to Leia that Lolet would almost certainly be punished anyway. Whatever new law they proposed would have to be draconian in its harshness, requiring every planet to deplete its own emergency stores at the whim of any Imperial commander who came by, regardless of genuine need. But they’d bought Lolet a little time, a chance to maybe come up with sources of funding to deal with the eventual penalty. Not much help—but something.
“That is, Amilyn Holdo bought them that time,” she said to Kier later as the two of them walked along one of the broad skyways that led away from the senatorial complex. “There was a weakness in the Imperial case, but I didn’t even see it.”
“It was tricky.” Kier wasn’t the kind of guy who felt the need to point out that he’d spotted the critical flaw for himself. He was more interested in what she was driving at.