Bloodline (Star Wars) Read online

  An Ottegan speaking through a vocoder that translated his words into humanlike speech: “How can we be sure the emissary’s information is accurate?”

  Senator Giller, an elderly, mustachioed Centrist who still wore his war medals every day: “There have been rumors of Twi’lek criminal enterprises as well! Maybe this is merely an attempt by the Twi’leks to force us to eliminate their rivals!”

  Lady Carise Sindian, with a jeweled hairband atop her head: “Senators are not lowly planetary constables to be sent out on every possible minor law enforcement errand. We must think of the dignity of our office. Are we to be reduced to mere investigators?”

  Varish Vicly, brushing back her golden fur: “This is an intrasystem matter. Even if the worlds involved belonged to the New Republic, as Ryloth and Bastatha do not, the Senate would be overreaching its authority by interfering.”

  Leia found herself remembering the stench of Jabba’s palace, where every breath had smelled of grease and smoke from half a dozen illegal substances. In her mind flickered the anguishing memory of Han frozen in carbonite, his grimace of pain as hard as stone—the raucous sound of laughter from those watching Luke fight for his life in the rancor’s den—and the heaviness of a metal collar tight around her neck.

  Ultimately she had hated Jabba the Hutt nearly as much as she’d hated Emperor Palpatine. But her loathing for Jabba had come to a far more satisfying conclusion.

  Leia saw Yendor of Ryloth leaning on his staff and realized, with a jolt, that he was wearier than he’d let on. He’d made this journey across the galaxy to speak to a governing body most Twi’leks still distrusted, all in the hope of changing something for his people. And the best response the Senate could give him was yet more bickering?

  Leia felt a galvanizing sense of purpose rush through her as the idea took shape in her mind. Maybe she could do one last bit of good before she resigned and left the government forever.

  She rose to her feet, a signal to the moderator droids that a senator urgently wished to take the floor. Senators were not allowed to overuse this privilege, but Leia had not bothered to avail herself of it in months. Almost instantly, the hovering holodroids rushed toward her. From the corner of her eye she could see herself in her long white dress, graying hair roped in its braid down her back. How august and official she looked. How dignified. Nobody would have any reason to expect her to say anything that deviated from the party line.

  So it was with great satisfaction that Leia proclaimed, “Honored members of the Senate, it is my opinion that the emissary from Ryloth has brought an important matter to our attention, one that demands further inquiry. Therefore I volunteer to lead the investigation myself…and as such, will leave Hosnian Prime for Bastatha immediately.”

  Silence followed—out of what Leia expected was sheer astonishment. How long had it been since somebody in the Senate had stood up and actually offered to do something useful?

  Too long, she thought. But damn, it feels good.

  Leia knew her proposal to lead the mission to Bastatha was sensible, useful, and direct.

  Obviously, the Senate didn’t know what to do with it.

  “We could hardly be certain of assuring your safety, Princess Leia,” said Lady Carise Sindian, the only senator who called Leia by her royal title, rather than her elected one, while on the Senate floor. “We couldn’t put you at risk.”

  “Have you no faith in the soldiers of the New Republic, Senator Sindian?” This objection actually came from another Centrist, Senator Arbo, one of the war hawks of Coruscant. “Senator Organa will travel with an entire squadron of guards to protect her at all times. Do not doubt their ability or their valor!”

  Tai-Lin Garr shook his head. “We could hardly expect Senator Organa’s investigation to run smoothly if such a large military presence accompanied her. The people of Bastatha would consider it an intrusion, perhaps even an invasion.”

  This was the first useful thing someone had said since Leia had volunteered for the mission. Given that the tone of the overall conversation was turning toward safeguarding her trip to Bastatha, rather than objecting to it, she was beginning to feel encouraged despite herself.

  And if she’d realized what a charge she would get out of the mere idea of being out in the field—the chance to work with ordinary people instead of politicians, to evaluate a situation for herself without any committees in the way—she would’ve come up with another potential mission a long time ago. The journey to Bastatha would be the perfect way to end her career in the Senate: doing something interesting and meaningful again, at last. Then she could walk out with a sense of satisfaction that at least she’d been able to accomplish some real, tangible good before she left.

  Who knows? she thought. Taking on one of the spice cartels—I might even wind up with some stories to rival a few of Han’s. Already she couldn’t wait to tell him about this.

  However, Lady Carise wasn’t done speaking. “The question of this mission’s worthiness remains. As others have stated, we have only the testimony of the emissary of Ryloth to go upon. What has been characterized as criminal activity may be no more than the Niktos attempting to rebuild their economy after escaping the influence of the Hutts. Furthermore—and forgive me, but it must be said—such an investigation could not be left to a Populist senator alone. Although Princess Leia is no mere conspiracy theorist, some of those on the Populist benches are determined to see the worst in any larger organization, whether governmental, military, or economic.”

  “I can be objective,” Leia began, but her voice was almost immediately drowned out. Protests bubbled up from the Populist senators, and it was all Leia could do not to groan. Now her own party would keep her from being heard.

  C-3PO’s gold head swiveled from side to side as he attempted to record the entire debate. “I should have thought the Senate would welcome your generous offer,” he said. “Oh, dear.”

  “ ‘Oh, dear’ is right.” Leia kept her chin high, determined to wait this out. Now that she’d tasted even the hope of going into action again, she wasn’t going to give it up easily.

  One of the moderator droids intoned, “The floor is granted to Senator Casterfo of Riosa.”

  Even as his name was announced, Ransolm Casterfo had already risen to his feet, all the better to look impressive for the holodroids. The dark-green velvet cloak he wore testified to his wealth and privilege. Leia wondered sourly whether he’d chosen the clothing to make it seem that he was from a more powerful, prestigious world than Riosa, or because the colors suited his complexion. There was a touch of the celebrity about him…as there was with too many of the younger senators, for whom government was more about fame and influence than duty.

  “My fellow senators,” Casterfo proclaimed. His narrow, aristocratic face looked out from the screens and holos; he’d already mastered the politician’s trick of seeming to make eye contact with everybody at once. “Senator Sindian has raised a valuable point. This should be a bipartisan mission. In fact, I am ashamed on behalf of my own party that one of our own did not volunteer first—because as Centrists, we value law and order, do we not?” Murmurs of agreement rose from various Centrist senators. Casterfo went on, “Not only is there a need for both Populist and Centrist perspectives on the question of the Nikto cartels, but we should also be more generous than to repay the courage of the esteemed Senator Organa by requiring her to make such a potentially hazardous journey alone.”

  Smooth, Leia thought with grudging admiration.

  Casterfo continued, “I therefore volunteer to accompany Senator Organa on her mission to Bastatha. We will work together to present a comprehensive, objective set of findings to the Senate upon our return.”

  The sensation in Leia’s chest then felt a bit like riding on a sailboat in full furl only to be jerked to a stop by an anchor. Her great last adventure had just turned into a…babysitting job.

  “I knew it was too good to be true,” she muttered.

  “I beg your
pardon, Princess Leia?” C-3PO gestured toward Casterfo’s image on the holos. “I failed to record your last comment. If you would like it to be part of the record—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Threepio. Forget it.” Leia heard other voices rise up to debate further points of protocol, but she knew how the Senate worked well enough to know how this would all end: She’d go to Bastatha, but with Ransolm Casterfo by her side.

  —

  “You could’ve let us know you were planning on doing this,” Greer said in Leia’s offices afterward.

  “I would’ve let you know I was going to volunteer if I’d had any idea myself.”

  “So, you’ll be taking the Mirrorbright?” Greer’s tone was casual as she worked with her datapad, but she couldn’t disguise the small smile on her full lips.

  “I’ll give you the answer to the question you’re really asking, which is, yes, Greer, you’ll get to pilot the ship.” Leia paused. The Bastatha mission had a small but genuine element of danger. This might not be a mere pleasure cruise. “If you’re sure…”

  “I’m sure.” Greer beamed. As good as she was at her office duties, she hadn’t entirely lost her love of piloting. A pity Greer had to give up racing, Leia thought, not for the first time.

  Next Leia would have to verify as accurate every datapad containing visual, sound, and sensory records of the day’s Senate session, just one more layer of New Republic bureaucracy she had to sort through every day. “Let’s get through this as soon as possible. I want to head to Casterfo’s office right away.”

  “But—” Korrie looked from Leia to Greer and back again, a stack of datapads in her arms. “Shouldn’t he come to you?”

  “Indeed he should!” C-3PO sounded delighted to have something meaningful to contribute. “Proper senatorial protocol demands that the junior senator should always be the one to call upon the senior senator. No doubt Senator Casterfo will be here first thing in the morning.”

  “No doubt,” Leia agreed. “Which is why I’m going to his office instead, before he has a chance to leave for the night. I want him to understand that we’re not standing on ‘protocol’ on our mission to Bastatha, and I want to catch him off his guard.”

  Greer caught on immediately; she usually did. “He’ll be surprised. Flattered. You’ll get a chance to see what he says and how he acts when he doesn’t have a Centrist script to go by.”

  “Exactly.” Leia began verifying the datapads one after the other—a thumbprint here, a retinal scan there. Korrie overcame her surprise to keep the datapads circulating speedily. “Besides, this way we can start making concrete travel arrangements right away. The sooner I get off Hosnian Prime, the better.”

  She pretended not to notice the glances Greer and Korrie shared.

  Before long, Leia was able to leave her offices for Casterfo’s. Over C-3PO’s objections, she went alone. If Leia had no staffers with her, she could reasonably ask Casterfo to excuse his own. Taking the measure of a man would be far more easily done if he had to answer every question himself, and if he was divided from his usual sources of support.

  The senatorial complex on Hosnian Prime was a vast structure, mostly housed in a single long, flat building only one story tall. This had been done to avoid any sense of offices on higher towers being “more prestigious” than others—which had seemed to make sense at the time—but it meant Leia would need to travel nearly a kilometer and a half to reach Casterfo’s office. She stepped onto one of the automated sidewalks, drawing her white hood over her head. It wasn’t as though this would prevent anyone from identifying her, but it might delay recognition long enough for her to avoid getting pulled into any inconsequential conversations that would only waste time.

  Broad transparent panels revealed wide slices of the twilight sky overhead. Leia glanced up at the statue of Bail Organa—cool white in the encroaching dark—as she passed it by. Her father seemed to be watching her go. The numerous citizens of various worlds milled around, both on the mobile sidewalks and around them: a group of Bothans growling to one another in front of one office’s door, a Gungan having an animated conversation via the comlink in his hand, and two Wookiees far ahead of her on the sidewalk, being propelled forward past the throngs of politicians, workers, lobbyists, and visiting constituents that perpetually filled the complex. Only the sight of the Wookiees made Leia smile.

  I wonder how Chewbacca’s doing. Her husband’s old Wookiee partner had settled back into a peaceful domestic life on Kashyyyk. As difficult as it was for Leia to imagine Chewie being content at home, he’d remained there long enough that she had to conclude he was enjoying himself. Han never passes along Chewie’s holos; I need to make some time to catch up, and soon.

  The planet Riosa was a faded center of manufacturing in the Inner Rim, one still struggling to rebuild itself. Accordingly, it had been assigned senatorial offices at the far edge of one of the building’s wings. So much for the supposed “equality” of the office arrangements; status could be carved out of any substance people desired—and in Leia’s experience, they always did desire. This meant almost nobody witnessed her walking into Casterfo’s offices. When she entered, for a moment his staffers simply stood there, agog.

  “I take it Senator Casterfo is still here?” Leia asked pleasantly, clasping her hands in front of her within the wide white sleeves of her robe. “Can you ask him if he has time to meet with Senator Organa?”

  To Casterfo’s credit, he hurried out of his private office almost instantly. “Senator Organa?” He smiled as he finished shrugging his green cloak back on; apparently he’d already begun unwinding from his day. “I had expected to visit you in the morning.”

  “When there’s work to be done, why delay?” Leia returned his smile as politely as she could manage.

  “My opinion exactly.” Casterfo had the same sort of aristocratic accent Grand Moff Tarkin had spoken in, the one so many senior Imperial officers affected, the one she’d mocked when she and Tarkin last stood face-to-face. She tried not to let that put her on edge. “Please, do come in and sit down. Can I offer you tea? Water? Anything?”

  Leia waved off refreshments as she followed Casterfo into his personal office—and then stopped in place, as though frozen.

  On the walls of Casterfo’s office hung artifacts from the Empire.

  A stormtrooper’s helmet. The black control box of a TIE pilot’s atmospheric suit. Flags and banners of the Empire, the individual stormtrooper legions, and one—faded, slightly torn, but still searing to Leia’s eyes—dedicated to Palpatine himself.

  It was one thing to see such items in a museum…not that Leia would have ever gone to such an exhibit, but she would have understood its historical purpose. This adulation, however, was grotesque.

  “Senator Organa?” Casterfo stared at Leia, somehow completely oblivious to the source of her discomfort. “Are you well? You look pale. Perhaps you should sit down.”

  “In here?” Leia held out her hands, gesturing to the array of artifacts surrounding them. “In the middle of your shrine to the glories of the Empire?”

  Casterfo smiled. How could he dare smile? “Now, now, Senator. Don’t overreact. These are historical relics, no more.”

  As though the war against the Empire had taken place millennia before, rather than the space of one generation. Leia wondered if Casterfo thought of her as a historical relic, too.

  “You consider yourself a collector, then.” Her tone remained cool, but she took a seat in one of the chairs. As she’d anticipated, Casterfo didn’t go sit behind his desk—which would have been an assertion of his authority. He didn’t want to insult her in that way, but he wasn’t sure what else to do, and so was left standing in front of her, slightly at a loss.

  But he remained eager to talk about his hobby. “Yes, exactly. I was only a small boy when the war ended. The adventures you all must have had! When I look around at these things, I imagine the battles so vividly I feel as if I had been there.”

  If Caste
rfo had really been able to imagine himself in the great battles of the war, he wouldn’t have enjoyed the experience. Leia had dealt with enough shell-shocked former Rebellion troops to know that much. However, his guileless enthusiasm soothed her somewhat. All right, he’s not a warmonger. Just an overgrown kid who thinks he missed out on all the “excitement.”

  She had never been so close to Casterfo before, and saw now that his polished appearance was not entirely perfect. His sandy hair had perhaps been grown longer in order to hide his ears, which protruded somewhat sharply from his narrow face. But he’d practically lacquered his hair in order to make it look sleek, no doubt because it otherwise would have curled tightly. Even the flowing cloak was probably meant to disguise how reed-thin he was. Before, Leia had seen Casterfo’s obvious concern for his appearance as vanity; now she realized it was at least partly vulnerability, evidence that Casterfo wanted to look older than his years, more prosperous than his planet. He wanted to stand in the Senate and look as if he belonged.

  Her judgment of him gentled…for the remaining second it took him to add, “Besides, even if we cannot respect these soldiers’ methods, we can at least honor their dream.”

  “Dream?”

  “The dream of empire, of course.” Casterfo smiled like a man remembering the best days of his childhood. “If the galaxy truly could have been united under a wise, authoritative leader, such an empire might have stood for a thousand years, to rival the Old Republic itself.”

  Leia realized she was gaping at him, mouth open. “You wish the Empire were still standing?”

  “Not the Empire we had, led by a man so corrupt as Palpatine. But if the Empire could have been reformed, perhaps, turned over to better and more responsible leadership—”

  “You mean, if the Rebellion could’ve been defeated,” Leia snapped. Her temper had heated beyond the point of restraint. “I regret that we so disappointed you, Senator Casterfo, by fighting and dying to set the galaxy free.”