“Yeah yeah, great give it to me, Entropy.” I put my hand out for the datadisc. A teal, three-fingered mechanical hand pulled the disc from the data reader below his chin. I took it and dashed down the hall, hearing a mechanical sigh as the droid bemoaned the mistreatment.
I sat down in my office and opened a channel to Central, my hands basically a dark blur over the glowing interface. “Here are the newest numbers” I said, and sent the data. “I have another appointment this afternoon, I’ll get you that information tomorrow.”
Ever since the end of the Clone Wars, the rich of the galaxy had come to Alderaan, hoping to avoid the long arm of the Empire by living on a pacifist planet. Of course, they were not satisfied with the state of the planet when they arrived. They constructed for themselves large mansions, and some had brought low-orbit Skyhooks. Not that Alderaan had ever been a poor planet, but the sudden infusion of wealth kept us tax assessors very busy. And the bureaucrats were even more demanding.
My system dinged, indicating Central had received and approved my numbers. Immediately the stress of the morning left me, like a weight off the shoulders. I stood up and got my coat. I passed the droid on my way out.
"Sir, perhaps you’d like to hear the news before you go?”
“No thanks,” I said. “Why ruin a good mood?”
The news was always bad. Though the Empire had won the war, it had felt like a loss at the time. The peace that had been achieved didn't seem to help anybody - not anybody I knew. There were refugees, disease, rumors of genocide. While I had no love for the Jedi, Darth Vader seemed an equally brutal enforcer. When the Jedi came to settle conflicts they at least pretended to seek a compromise. The Empire was growing in power, absorbing everything in its wake. But the popular consensus was that they'd leave Alderaan alone.
“It is rather important. The Imperial Senate has been dissolved. The last-"
"WHAT?!" I was so loud my own ears recoiled. I spun on my heels to face him. "Are you sure? N2P-GE3, are you absolutely positive?" I addressed him by his serial number, like when my mother pronounced every letter in Joëlle. Entropy stared at me, and his eyes dimmed and brightened cyclically. The silence stretched. Finally, "Yes. Further, Senator Organa is scheduled to make a speech this afternoon about it."
“Really?!" I ran through my schedule in my head. Plenty of time between now and my assessment appointment. I had time to attend. "Thanks for telling me, Entropy.”
“It is my duty, sir.”
I left the droid behind. He was useful for numbers, but droids were unable to make actual tax assessments. One needed to be able to see through the lies and half-truths the wealthy told as they sought to exploit loopholes. Together, however, we ran our branch quite well.
Walking outside, I saw my bike standing securely in its parking space. An old Starhawk speeder bike I had modified. It took me ages to save up enough to buy it. I had removed the blasters, obviously, and rerouted that power back to the repulsor-thrusts. The bike had become my pride and joy, and with it I had been able to see sights on Alderaan I had previously only dreamed of. Leaving Alderaan was an expense that was always out of reach for me. But at least with the bike I didn't feel trapped down here.
I drove to the cantina, feeling the wind streak through gelled black hair.
"Joëlle, you need to calm down." S'watu told me between shoveled bites of food. "The Senate has been around for thousands of years. It's the only way planets are heard on Coruscant. Since the end of the Clone Wars, it's been a mere rubber stamp for the Emperor. Without it, he loses more than he gains." He stopped to swallow a particularly big bite. Some of it was still in his greying beard. "You know what he loses? Legitimacy. The Rebellion could never hope for such a victory. Whatever they got from Scarrif, this is better."
"What makes you so sure," I asked slowly, rhythmically tapping my brown fingers on the table. "The galaxy tolerated rubber stamping even during the Clone Wars. Do we really think the Wookies wanted their representative to vote for emergency powers? Their rep did so anyway." I hit my hand on the plastisheer table, shaking it's unsteady legs.
The lounge band finished their song and we clapped with the rest. Taking my eyes off the raised stage up front I scanned over the other tables for our waiter. Finding him, I waved for him over to come over to refill our drinks - both Morose Captains. As he came over, S'watu's eyes shot towards him, and I saw him scan his figure: Thin as a vibroblade, a bit of stubble at his chin, and blue eyes framed by rectangular specs the color crimson. When he got to our table, S'watu said, "How's, uhh, business today?"
"Happening. Same as always, S'watu. I see you enjoyed your meal." I rubbed my chin and grunted.
"Oh!" S'watu wiped his beard. "It was excellent today, thank you. You're very good - oh I mean, the food. It is." His voice trailed off.
"I'll tell the chef," the waiter said, amused. "Since he's the one who makes the food," his voice deepened to match S'watu's natural pitch, "very good."
As the waiter walked away S'watu cursed under his breath. He emptied the drink down his throat.
“It is rather important. The Imperial Senate has been dissolved. The last-"
"WHAT?!" I was so loud my own ears recoiled. I spun on my heels to face him. "Are you sure? N2P-GE3, are you absolutely positive?" I addressed him by his serial number, like when my mother pronounced every letter in Joëlle. Entropy stared at me, and his eyes dimmed and brightened cyclically. The silence stretched. Finally, "Yes. Further, Senator Organa is scheduled to make a speech this afternoon about it."
“Really?!" I ran through my schedule in my head. Plenty of time between now and my assessment appointment. I had time to attend. "Thanks for telling me, Entropy.”
“It is my duty, sir.”
I left the droid behind. He was useful for numbers, but droids were unable to make actual tax assessments. One needed to be able to see through the lies and half-truths the wealthy told as they sought to exploit loopholes. Together, however, we ran our branch quite well.
Walking outside, I saw my bike standing securely in its parking space. An old Starhawk speeder bike I had modified. It took me ages to save up enough to buy it. I had removed the blasters, obviously, and rerouted that power back to the repulsor-thrusts. The bike had become my pride and joy, and with it I had been able to see sights on Alderaan I had previously only dreamed of. Leaving Alderaan was an expense that was always out of reach for me. But at least with the bike I didn't feel trapped down here.
I drove to the cantina, feeling the wind streak through gelled black hair.
***
"Joëlle, you need to calm down." S'watu told me between shoveled bites of food. "The Senate has been around for thousands of years. It's the only way planets are heard on Coruscant. Since the end of the Clone Wars, it's been a mere rubber stamp for the Emperor. Without it, he loses more than he gains." He stopped to swallow a particularly big bite. Some of it was still in his greying beard. "You know what he loses? Legitimacy. The Rebellion could never hope for such a victory. Whatever they got from Scarrif, this is better."
"What makes you so sure," I asked slowly, rhythmically tapping my brown fingers on the table. "The galaxy tolerated rubber stamping even during the Clone Wars. Do we really think the Wookies wanted their representative to vote for emergency powers? Their rep did so anyway." I hit my hand on the plastisheer table, shaking it's unsteady legs.
The lounge band finished their song and we clapped with the rest. Taking my eyes off the raised stage up front I scanned over the other tables for our waiter. Finding him, I waved for him over to come over to refill our drinks - both Morose Captains. As he came over, S'watu's eyes shot towards him, and I saw him scan his figure: Thin as a vibroblade, a bit of stubble at his chin, and blue eyes framed by rectangular specs the color crimson. When he got to our table, S'watu said, "How's, uhh, business today?"
"Happening. Same as always, S'watu. I see you enjoyed your meal." I rubbed my chin and grunted.
"Oh!" S'watu wiped his beard. "It was excellent today, thank you. You're very good - oh I mean, the food. It is." His voice trailed off.
"I'll tell the chef," the waiter said, amused. "Since he's the one who makes the food," his voice deepened to match S'watu's natural pitch, "very good."
As the waiter walked away S'watu cursed under his breath. He emptied the drink down his throat.
"I always get nervous." He hit his chest with his brown fist to calm the burning the drink always caused. S'watu was bigger than me, but I was always amazed at how he held his drink. Emptying a whole glass like that was likely to knock me out completely.
"You'd think you'd be used to it by now." I took a gulp, "The nerves, I mean." I hit my chest as the burning began to rise from my stomach into my throat.
"Should I ask him out?"
I went back to my food, mentally preparing for a conversation we'd had dozens of times ever since he'd been hired. "Yes."
"Today?"
"Why not?"
"Well, he saw me with food all over me. And maybe he saw me shoveling it in before. You should have stopped me."
"I wonder if that's what the Senators all said to each other. Why did you vote yes? Me? No, I couldn't stand up to him. But why not you?"
"Shut up about politics - this is serious now!"
Another break in the music. Polite clapping. "Just go ask him," I said, trying to sound exasperated. Maybe if he thought I was annoyed he'd do it. A big guy, and good in a fight, but S'watu was fairly fragile on the inside.
"I can't." He said.
"You won't." I corrected. His eyes wandered off toward the band as the silence between us stretched.
A thin, tan hand hit our table. Looking up we saw it was Sal, S'watu's neighbor. She's more rebellious than either of us, and worse informed. "What are you idiots talking about today?"
"The Senate." S’watu responded immediately. If Sal had known we’d been talking about that waiter again, she’d tease him mercilessly.
"What Senate? There is no Senate. There is only," she cleared her throat and threw a hand in the air in mock-drama, "The Empire! And we, their honorable citizens. Personally, I'm glad the Emperor got rid of the Senate." Her voice returned to it's usual, lighter tone, "Seriously, what's Orjayna done for us lately?" She always mispronounced his name on purpose. "The rebellion is winning battles but Alderaan is remaining neutral."
"We're pacifist," I interjected.
"That makes us even more powerless. How can a pacifist defend herself? Pacifism is suicide by someone else's hand."
"Why don't you leave Alderaan then?" S'watu put in.
"S'watu!" I exclaimed. You know why she doesn't leave. Her parents died in a construction accident years ago. She stays to raise her siblings.
"Well actually," her face brightened, "I am leaving. That's why I came by to say hello. All those late shifts are about to pay off. I was finally able to pay for passage to Bespin."
"Bespin?" I asked, "What's there?"
I looked at S'watu, who shrugged broad shoulders. "They don't support the rebellion, I know that."
"There's a gas mining operation there. Jobs, security, food, and quite the view." She said.
"Didn't you want to fight the Empire?"
"Yeah, but how am I gonna do that? The Rebels are stars-know-where, and if I ever found out we'd be sure the Empire knew, too, and it would be a fool's mission. But I've got the kids to care for, and I'd rather find a system with opportunity. Joëlle, you know better than anyone else where our economy's going. I don't want to watch Ellai and Diagmuos battle to be a skyhook servant." Her frown turned into a small smirk, "Mining's tough work but at least you don't have to smile while you do it."
S'watu turned his brown eyes toward Sal. "But doesn't the Empire buy that gas? You'll just be fueling them. Or, what about this, do you think those fuel depots will be safe from Rebel strikes?"
"Well where were these concerns months back when I was wondering where to go. You were always 'Sal, don't leave us,' 'Sal, the galaxy is gonna eat you alive,' 'Sal, think of the kids!' Well I did, and Bespin's the best opportunity I was able to get. Sorry it wasn't enough to please you, but I figured I'd at least get a smile because you'll never see me again once I go."
The band played over the silence. Sal was right. While S'watu and I came here day after day and complained about the direction the galaxy was going, Sal had been making plans to do something about it - or at least about her place in it. I stood up.
"Sal. I admire your initiative." I stuck out my hand for a shake, "May the Force be with you."
She took it and stared her deep brown eyes into mine. "Thank you. I know it's hard to admit you don't know best." She always ran roughshod, even over courtesy.
"May the Force be with you," S'watu added, plainly.
Sal turned her face towards him and cupped her ear with her hand. "What was that, Swatty?"
He sighed, and raised his voice to speak over the drums. "May the Force be with you."
"What was that?" She asked again, leaning in, thin lips in a tight smirk.
"I said, may the-"
"S'watu, she's just playing you." She shot me a glance as she stood tall, as if to ask why spoil my fun? "Come on," I said, looking at S'watu. "Senator Organa's speech begins soon. We should go." I turned to Sal. "You want to come?"
"And see that wind bag? He adopted a child into his royal family while my parents were struggling to support us. Alderaan has its own problems. I don't see why he thinks we needed another mouth to feed, much less a Princess' mouth."
"He may be willing to speak more freely about the situation now that the Senate is no more."
Sal thought it over. "Well, worst case scenario he disappoints me again and I know leaving is the right choice."
As we got up, the waiter came over to us. I motioned to the credits we had left on the table, "Don't worry. We're paying."
"AND left you a tip." S'watu interjected.
The waiter smiled, "Thanks, Swatty." He scooped up the money and started to walk away, "Hope to see you again soon."
"Whenever I'm hungry!" S'watu shouted, then turned to me, "Oh, that was a dumb thing to say, wasn't it?"
"How come he gets to call you Swatty?" Sal asked.
"Because when he does it it's cute." S'watu insisted.
She rolled her eyes. "He could call you a Blurrg and you'd blush."
"Cut it out," I said curtly. "Let's go."
I always attended Organa's presentations. He gave about one a month, though occasionally less. I assume it's customary for senators to meet with their people regularly, but seeing as I've never left Alderaan, I guess I don't really know.
Organa had been Senator all my life. Some had risen to oppose him, but with the backing of his royal family (and their coffers) he always won out. But Organa had a reputation of believing in justice. Rumor was that he was part of a select few who did not approve the Emergency Powers resolution to begin the Clone Wars, but of course that was impossible to verify. If our democracy was going to be hijacked by royal money, at least we got a Senator Organa instead of a Representative Binks. They say he proposed the Emergency Powers resolution as a favor to a political ally. Politics is worse than tax law.
The speech was given in its customary place, in Drearium Square outside the palace. Organa stood high on a balcony, and hologram projections of his presence were set up near the outskirts of the square. Alderaanian Royal Guards welcomed us to the square, though Sal sneered at them and grumbled about the money wasted on their blue and grey robes. I think they look nice and, say what you will about royalty, but matching traditional outfits is certainly better than the gharish designs of the mansions of those newly arrived rich. "At least they aren't Stormies," S'watu said. For now, I thought.
Imperial Stormtroopers were not allowed on Alderaan. Something about a political deal Organa had made with... someone. With the Senate gone, this was bound to change, and in fact for years there have been rumors of covert Stormtrooper cells already deployed around the planet. But, given the horror stories associated with Stormtroopers, it was at least nice they weren't arrogantly strutting around.
Drearium Square was where the public met the power. Directly in front of the palace, it had always been the site of formal speeches. It was paved with glimmering ferrocrete and lined with trees native to different parts of Alderaan. Some were covered with blue leaves, others alternating with green and pink. Blossoms of violet and white marked the walkways on the square, and there were fountains set up irregularly around, each with a statue of a different member of the royal past.
Surrounding the square was open land, parks that were for public use at all times. The holograms were set up at this perimeter, and scattered further out around the parks. When not being used during speeches the holograms could be used to show whatever one wanted, provided you had brought a datadisc with the image.
In order to encourage direct engagement, these speeches were not broadcast live. If you wanted to hear the latest you had to come to Drearium Square. For the public to meet the power, they must first show up. This made these events brimming with people and today it was as busy as ever. The press of people was a bit overwhelming.
Organa raised his hands for silence before speaking.
"My people, I come to you in a time of great crisis. As I'm sure you have heard, the Emperor has dissolved the Galactic Senate. I am no longer your Senator. But that loss of prestige for me is nothing compared to the loss of stability the galaxy has endured. 20 years ago Chancellor Palpatine declared himself emperor after the Jedi coup. I had held out hope he would eventually allow the galaxy to revert to democracy, but this move shows us his true intentions. He will use his imperial power to enforce his own will.
"I will not tolerate this. Neither should you.
"The Rebel Alliance has won a victory on Scarrif. This was a major victory for the Rebels. While it pains me to say this, I believe it is time for us to declare for the Alliance." The crowd roared in conflicting views. I joined the voices of disapproval. What did any of us know about fighting? What use was a public declaration of support? Can't we support them quietly? The din began to subside, and I saw Organa raising his hands again for silence. It took a while.
"This obviously contradicts our decades of pacifism, but to do nothing is to allow the Emperor to slowly chip away at our freedom. A slow death is still a death, and a slow disenfranchisement still leaves our children with nothing." I looked at Sal, who nodded at that last part, "It cannot be allowed. We cannot-
"You'd think you'd be used to it by now." I took a gulp, "The nerves, I mean." I hit my chest as the burning began to rise from my stomach into my throat.
"Should I ask him out?"
I went back to my food, mentally preparing for a conversation we'd had dozens of times ever since he'd been hired. "Yes."
"Today?"
"Why not?"
"Well, he saw me with food all over me. And maybe he saw me shoveling it in before. You should have stopped me."
"I wonder if that's what the Senators all said to each other. Why did you vote yes? Me? No, I couldn't stand up to him. But why not you?"
"Shut up about politics - this is serious now!"
Another break in the music. Polite clapping. "Just go ask him," I said, trying to sound exasperated. Maybe if he thought I was annoyed he'd do it. A big guy, and good in a fight, but S'watu was fairly fragile on the inside.
"I can't." He said.
"You won't." I corrected. His eyes wandered off toward the band as the silence between us stretched.
A thin, tan hand hit our table. Looking up we saw it was Sal, S'watu's neighbor. She's more rebellious than either of us, and worse informed. "What are you idiots talking about today?"
"The Senate." S’watu responded immediately. If Sal had known we’d been talking about that waiter again, she’d tease him mercilessly.
"What Senate? There is no Senate. There is only," she cleared her throat and threw a hand in the air in mock-drama, "The Empire! And we, their honorable citizens. Personally, I'm glad the Emperor got rid of the Senate." Her voice returned to it's usual, lighter tone, "Seriously, what's Orjayna done for us lately?" She always mispronounced his name on purpose. "The rebellion is winning battles but Alderaan is remaining neutral."
"We're pacifist," I interjected.
"That makes us even more powerless. How can a pacifist defend herself? Pacifism is suicide by someone else's hand."
"Why don't you leave Alderaan then?" S'watu put in.
"S'watu!" I exclaimed. You know why she doesn't leave. Her parents died in a construction accident years ago. She stays to raise her siblings.
"Well actually," her face brightened, "I am leaving. That's why I came by to say hello. All those late shifts are about to pay off. I was finally able to pay for passage to Bespin."
"Bespin?" I asked, "What's there?"
I looked at S'watu, who shrugged broad shoulders. "They don't support the rebellion, I know that."
"There's a gas mining operation there. Jobs, security, food, and quite the view." She said.
"Didn't you want to fight the Empire?"
"Yeah, but how am I gonna do that? The Rebels are stars-know-where, and if I ever found out we'd be sure the Empire knew, too, and it would be a fool's mission. But I've got the kids to care for, and I'd rather find a system with opportunity. Joëlle, you know better than anyone else where our economy's going. I don't want to watch Ellai and Diagmuos battle to be a skyhook servant." Her frown turned into a small smirk, "Mining's tough work but at least you don't have to smile while you do it."
S'watu turned his brown eyes toward Sal. "But doesn't the Empire buy that gas? You'll just be fueling them. Or, what about this, do you think those fuel depots will be safe from Rebel strikes?"
"Well where were these concerns months back when I was wondering where to go. You were always 'Sal, don't leave us,' 'Sal, the galaxy is gonna eat you alive,' 'Sal, think of the kids!' Well I did, and Bespin's the best opportunity I was able to get. Sorry it wasn't enough to please you, but I figured I'd at least get a smile because you'll never see me again once I go."
The band played over the silence. Sal was right. While S'watu and I came here day after day and complained about the direction the galaxy was going, Sal had been making plans to do something about it - or at least about her place in it. I stood up.
"Sal. I admire your initiative." I stuck out my hand for a shake, "May the Force be with you."
She took it and stared her deep brown eyes into mine. "Thank you. I know it's hard to admit you don't know best." She always ran roughshod, even over courtesy.
"May the Force be with you," S'watu added, plainly.
Sal turned her face towards him and cupped her ear with her hand. "What was that, Swatty?"
He sighed, and raised his voice to speak over the drums. "May the Force be with you."
"What was that?" She asked again, leaning in, thin lips in a tight smirk.
"I said, may the-"
"S'watu, she's just playing you." She shot me a glance as she stood tall, as if to ask why spoil my fun? "Come on," I said, looking at S'watu. "Senator Organa's speech begins soon. We should go." I turned to Sal. "You want to come?"
"And see that wind bag? He adopted a child into his royal family while my parents were struggling to support us. Alderaan has its own problems. I don't see why he thinks we needed another mouth to feed, much less a Princess' mouth."
"He may be willing to speak more freely about the situation now that the Senate is no more."
Sal thought it over. "Well, worst case scenario he disappoints me again and I know leaving is the right choice."
As we got up, the waiter came over to us. I motioned to the credits we had left on the table, "Don't worry. We're paying."
"AND left you a tip." S'watu interjected.
The waiter smiled, "Thanks, Swatty." He scooped up the money and started to walk away, "Hope to see you again soon."
"Whenever I'm hungry!" S'watu shouted, then turned to me, "Oh, that was a dumb thing to say, wasn't it?"
"How come he gets to call you Swatty?" Sal asked.
"Because when he does it it's cute." S'watu insisted.
She rolled her eyes. "He could call you a Blurrg and you'd blush."
"Cut it out," I said curtly. "Let's go."
***
I always attended Organa's presentations. He gave about one a month, though occasionally less. I assume it's customary for senators to meet with their people regularly, but seeing as I've never left Alderaan, I guess I don't really know.
Organa had been Senator all my life. Some had risen to oppose him, but with the backing of his royal family (and their coffers) he always won out. But Organa had a reputation of believing in justice. Rumor was that he was part of a select few who did not approve the Emergency Powers resolution to begin the Clone Wars, but of course that was impossible to verify. If our democracy was going to be hijacked by royal money, at least we got a Senator Organa instead of a Representative Binks. They say he proposed the Emergency Powers resolution as a favor to a political ally. Politics is worse than tax law.
The speech was given in its customary place, in Drearium Square outside the palace. Organa stood high on a balcony, and hologram projections of his presence were set up near the outskirts of the square. Alderaanian Royal Guards welcomed us to the square, though Sal sneered at them and grumbled about the money wasted on their blue and grey robes. I think they look nice and, say what you will about royalty, but matching traditional outfits is certainly better than the gharish designs of the mansions of those newly arrived rich. "At least they aren't Stormies," S'watu said. For now, I thought.
Imperial Stormtroopers were not allowed on Alderaan. Something about a political deal Organa had made with... someone. With the Senate gone, this was bound to change, and in fact for years there have been rumors of covert Stormtrooper cells already deployed around the planet. But, given the horror stories associated with Stormtroopers, it was at least nice they weren't arrogantly strutting around.
Drearium Square was where the public met the power. Directly in front of the palace, it had always been the site of formal speeches. It was paved with glimmering ferrocrete and lined with trees native to different parts of Alderaan. Some were covered with blue leaves, others alternating with green and pink. Blossoms of violet and white marked the walkways on the square, and there were fountains set up irregularly around, each with a statue of a different member of the royal past.
Surrounding the square was open land, parks that were for public use at all times. The holograms were set up at this perimeter, and scattered further out around the parks. When not being used during speeches the holograms could be used to show whatever one wanted, provided you had brought a datadisc with the image.
In order to encourage direct engagement, these speeches were not broadcast live. If you wanted to hear the latest you had to come to Drearium Square. For the public to meet the power, they must first show up. This made these events brimming with people and today it was as busy as ever. The press of people was a bit overwhelming.
Organa raised his hands for silence before speaking.
"My people, I come to you in a time of great crisis. As I'm sure you have heard, the Emperor has dissolved the Galactic Senate. I am no longer your Senator. But that loss of prestige for me is nothing compared to the loss of stability the galaxy has endured. 20 years ago Chancellor Palpatine declared himself emperor after the Jedi coup. I had held out hope he would eventually allow the galaxy to revert to democracy, but this move shows us his true intentions. He will use his imperial power to enforce his own will.
"I will not tolerate this. Neither should you.
"The Rebel Alliance has won a victory on Scarrif. This was a major victory for the Rebels. While it pains me to say this, I believe it is time for us to declare for the Alliance." The crowd roared in conflicting views. I joined the voices of disapproval. What did any of us know about fighting? What use was a public declaration of support? Can't we support them quietly? The din began to subside, and I saw Organa raising his hands again for silence. It took a while.
"This obviously contradicts our decades of pacifism, but to do nothing is to allow the Emperor to slowly chip away at our freedom. A slow death is still a death, and a slow disenfranchisement still leaves our children with nothing." I looked at Sal, who nodded at that last part, "It cannot be allowed. We cannot-
The crowd spoke up again. Calls of "Down with the emperor" clashed with "No to the rebellion." A third cry could be heard, in assorted quarters of the crowd, but growing as others heard it and joined in. Whether one sided with the empire or not, there was something that nearly everyone on Alderaan could agree on. "Keep the Force free!" Organa again raised his hands, but I continued shouting along.
All the stories I had heard of the Jedi worried me. Taking children, secret councils in the heart of government, and of course the coup that empowered the emperor. Soon, it felt like the whole square was shouting in unison. Eventually, Organa shouted over us, "I know! I know! I know!" He shouted this several times, until we finally quieted down. Still, my blood felt hot and my hands shook. The idea of Sal losing one of her siblings enraged me.
"I know how you feel about the Jedi. I am with you. The galaxy is with you." He let the idea hang in the air before he continued. "The Rebels are not the Jedi. They are the Rebel Alliance, a collection of people opposing the Emperor. They want to restore the Republic. The Jedi are not among their numbers nor their priorities. The Jedi's involvement with government is what got us into this mess. While the Jedi saw the Emperor becoming what we see now, a coup was the wrong move. He should have been brought to trial before the courts. Everyone deserves justice.
"We can restore the Republic, but we cannot do that with the Senate dismissed. We cannot do that with an emperor on the throne. And to dethrone him we will have to fight."
Finally, I felt like I understood. Pacifism served us well when the galaxy was experiencing local and regional conflicts. Even the Clone Wars wasn't a threat to us, particularly. Whoever won would, at least we assumed, respect our pacifist past. But now, this wasn't a matter of warring faction. The Emperor had made a move against the people, themselves. The crowd roared approval and I enthusiastically joined in.
"People, you have a choice to make. I will not force a decision upon you. We will have a vote. If rebellion is not your will, I will resign, since I am not able represent that decision. But if you see the choices as I do then you will make what I think is the obvious decision, and I will lead us in the fight of a generation. Not since the Clone Wars has a decision so heavy rested upon us. But while the Clone Wars may have been a battle for union or separation, this is one of freedom versus tyranny. I believe refusing the Rebellion shows loyalty to a man who will not reward it."
It was unusual to hear the emperor referred to as "a man." But I suppose it's true, he is only one. Stripped of his title, a rebellion now seemed more likely to succeed. Many against one.
"For now, I urge you all to think on your answer. The votes shall be cast and counted later this week. Good day, and may the Force be with us all." Many responded the traditional "May the Force be with you," but some responded "May the Force be free." Organa bowed and the holograms snapped off. I saw him stand in the balcony for a while longer before turning around and heading inside.
"About damn time," Sal shouted over the crowd to S'watu and I. "Finally, there's some momentum for the people."
"Absolutely!" I agreed. "We've been sitting out the galaxy's conflicts long enough. If we don't join in on our own terms, we'll be brought in on someone else's."
"And we won't be the only system standing up," S'watu added. "I bet by this time next week half the galaxy will be up in arms against the Emperor!"
"We must take a stand, if only to inspire those who are more skittish."
We all cheered and joined the crowd marching out.
As we walked out onto the streets, the sight of people was amazing. Thousands were walking, chanting, raising their fists. Some children were seen running around, and already some held hand-made signs that said "Back to the Republic." I heard chants of "Fight for Alderaan." S'watu pointed to a group walking behind a "Keep the Force free" sign, and we followed him.
As we marched, someone walking alone the other direction saw Sal and waved her over. She practically skipped over, but quickly her body language changed, and the two of them started yelling. I walked over to pull her away and heard her say "What do you mean the price has gone up?!"
"Demands up." The other voice grunted. He was a portly fellow with drooping cheeks and bright green hair. If a blaster was put to my head, I wouldn't have been able to say whether he was living or one of those new cyborg constructs. His voice was just that plain. "Some can pay more."
"But that's not fair!" She shouted, the emotion in her voice a stark contrast.
"Never said it was." He turned around and walked away into the crowd.
Her face was maroon with anger. She bunched up her hands in a fist, but only stood there with them held tightly at her side. "Sal!" I yelled to get her attention. Nothing. I tried again, but still nothing. What I wouldn't give to know what was going on inside her head at that moment. I moved to get in front of her. "Saliyah!" I shouted at her face. Her pupils shifted as they focused on me. Her eyes were wet with held-back tears.
"That slime-ball changed the price to get off-planet."
"I heard. We'll talk about it later. Let's go."
"We'll talk about it now!"
"Fine, but come with us before we get separated."
"No, I'm gonna talk to him about it now." She pushed by me and I quickly lost sight of her as she disappeared into the throngs of people.
I turned to find S'watu, but he was gone, too. I was suddenly alone on this very crowded street. Not knowing what else to do I joined the marching line we had been in. "Keep the Force free! Keep the Force free!" I tried to press my way forward, but had little luck. "Keep the Force free!"
We turned a corner. I saw that the line had flattened into a crowd, which had stopped at an intersection. I thought I saw S’watu up ahead. Another crowd was across the street, holding different signs, chanting different slogans. "Keep Alderaan safe" and "Rebels are criminals." Each side was getting louder and louder, and the lone Alderaanian royal guard was dwarfed by comparison. Finally, there was a metallic bang, and I saw one of the barriers set up on the far side had fallen. Other bangs followed, and the guard was swallowed up as the crush of people ran to meet each other.
Like a riptide, I felt the wave of people behind me pushing me forward, but I had no stomach for such a conflict. I made my way towards the building at the corner and pressed myself against it, letting the crowds stream by me. Shouts and bangs filled the air, and I hoped S’watu was okay. I considered going back for him, but suddenly I remembered I had only just had lunch, and that my work day was in fact not over. I still had an appraisal appointment. But maybe they had heard the news and would cancel? Unlikely. What do they care what happens in the city?
I arrived at the office and found Entropy standing by his charging station. What does he do when there isn’t work to be done? He noticed me and activated, straightening his posture. “It is good to see you all in order. There is news of riots, and I was looking for your name among the dead or wounded.”
“I only hoped you would have mourned me if you had found it.”
“As much as I can. I certainly would have told those who would have mourned you.”
“Hard to ask for more from a droid.”
“I beg your pardon!” Entropy said stiffly. “We droids are capable of actions most life forms can only dream of. That we don’t have bothersome emotions is not fault, but a feature.”
“Fair enough,” I chuckled. “But just know you’re bound to rackle those ‘bothersome’ emotions when you so plainly state you were looking for our names among the dead.”
“And wounded,” He corrected.
“Fine.”
I went to my computer and checked my schedule. No cancellations. I said good-bye to Entropy and went on my way.
My Starhawk glided over the gravel pathway as I pulled to a stop. The estate was obviously unfinished, but the main residence was complete, at least. The new bloods always wanted to get the first building inspected, the biggest, so that they'd know the costs of what they were getting into. The mansion was yellow and I immediately noticed the lack of windows. Given the beauty of Alderaan, most mansions were more window than wall. I noticed a woman with pale hair and skin to match standing by the doorway. Her clothes were also pale, but more a bland grey than white. This let the string of pearls around her neck stand out. The only real color on her was the orange on her lips.
"Mind if I rest this by the door?"
"Sure," the woman said, cheerfully. "That's a nice bike."
"Thank you," I said, fighting back a smile. Flattery always had an agenda. "I've modified it a good deal - it's got basically everything but guns and shields. It even has repulsor-thrusters on both ends, for quick starting and stopping."
"A strange vehicle for a taxman."
"That's my job." I patted the bike as I let it rest gently against the wall, "This is who I am."
"A racer?"
"A traveler. Alderaan is a big place, with some beautiful views. It's fun to see it on my own, rather than on a tourist bus."
"Yes, tourists can be such a bore." She eyed me carefully, as if locking a missile target on me.
"I agree. People should really invest in places, rather than spend their credits on fleeting memories." Missile evaded. Her stare loosened, satisfied. Much of these assessments was politics. "Shall we?" She led the way as we wandered first the outside of the house.
"First, the easy questions. Who will live here?"
"A staff of about 20, plus my own family and friends of 9?"
"Will you be bringing your own staff?"
"No. Well," She looked away. Then, after a brief pause, "Well, yes. One."
"Clariett, I will advise you here to be truthful with me."
"Oh, it isn't that. I’d bring them all if I could. It's just that Dunyol is the only one left. still hurts to think about." She straightened her short stature, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
All the stories I had heard of the Jedi worried me. Taking children, secret councils in the heart of government, and of course the coup that empowered the emperor. Soon, it felt like the whole square was shouting in unison. Eventually, Organa shouted over us, "I know! I know! I know!" He shouted this several times, until we finally quieted down. Still, my blood felt hot and my hands shook. The idea of Sal losing one of her siblings enraged me.
"I know how you feel about the Jedi. I am with you. The galaxy is with you." He let the idea hang in the air before he continued. "The Rebels are not the Jedi. They are the Rebel Alliance, a collection of people opposing the Emperor. They want to restore the Republic. The Jedi are not among their numbers nor their priorities. The Jedi's involvement with government is what got us into this mess. While the Jedi saw the Emperor becoming what we see now, a coup was the wrong move. He should have been brought to trial before the courts. Everyone deserves justice.
"We can restore the Republic, but we cannot do that with the Senate dismissed. We cannot do that with an emperor on the throne. And to dethrone him we will have to fight."
Finally, I felt like I understood. Pacifism served us well when the galaxy was experiencing local and regional conflicts. Even the Clone Wars wasn't a threat to us, particularly. Whoever won would, at least we assumed, respect our pacifist past. But now, this wasn't a matter of warring faction. The Emperor had made a move against the people, themselves. The crowd roared approval and I enthusiastically joined in.
"People, you have a choice to make. I will not force a decision upon you. We will have a vote. If rebellion is not your will, I will resign, since I am not able represent that decision. But if you see the choices as I do then you will make what I think is the obvious decision, and I will lead us in the fight of a generation. Not since the Clone Wars has a decision so heavy rested upon us. But while the Clone Wars may have been a battle for union or separation, this is one of freedom versus tyranny. I believe refusing the Rebellion shows loyalty to a man who will not reward it."
It was unusual to hear the emperor referred to as "a man." But I suppose it's true, he is only one. Stripped of his title, a rebellion now seemed more likely to succeed. Many against one.
"For now, I urge you all to think on your answer. The votes shall be cast and counted later this week. Good day, and may the Force be with us all." Many responded the traditional "May the Force be with you," but some responded "May the Force be free." Organa bowed and the holograms snapped off. I saw him stand in the balcony for a while longer before turning around and heading inside.
"About damn time," Sal shouted over the crowd to S'watu and I. "Finally, there's some momentum for the people."
"Absolutely!" I agreed. "We've been sitting out the galaxy's conflicts long enough. If we don't join in on our own terms, we'll be brought in on someone else's."
"And we won't be the only system standing up," S'watu added. "I bet by this time next week half the galaxy will be up in arms against the Emperor!"
"We must take a stand, if only to inspire those who are more skittish."
We all cheered and joined the crowd marching out.
As we walked out onto the streets, the sight of people was amazing. Thousands were walking, chanting, raising their fists. Some children were seen running around, and already some held hand-made signs that said "Back to the Republic." I heard chants of "Fight for Alderaan." S'watu pointed to a group walking behind a "Keep the Force free" sign, and we followed him.
As we marched, someone walking alone the other direction saw Sal and waved her over. She practically skipped over, but quickly her body language changed, and the two of them started yelling. I walked over to pull her away and heard her say "What do you mean the price has gone up?!"
"Demands up." The other voice grunted. He was a portly fellow with drooping cheeks and bright green hair. If a blaster was put to my head, I wouldn't have been able to say whether he was living or one of those new cyborg constructs. His voice was just that plain. "Some can pay more."
"But that's not fair!" She shouted, the emotion in her voice a stark contrast.
"Never said it was." He turned around and walked away into the crowd.
Her face was maroon with anger. She bunched up her hands in a fist, but only stood there with them held tightly at her side. "Sal!" I yelled to get her attention. Nothing. I tried again, but still nothing. What I wouldn't give to know what was going on inside her head at that moment. I moved to get in front of her. "Saliyah!" I shouted at her face. Her pupils shifted as they focused on me. Her eyes were wet with held-back tears.
"That slime-ball changed the price to get off-planet."
"I heard. We'll talk about it later. Let's go."
"We'll talk about it now!"
"Fine, but come with us before we get separated."
"No, I'm gonna talk to him about it now." She pushed by me and I quickly lost sight of her as she disappeared into the throngs of people.
I turned to find S'watu, but he was gone, too. I was suddenly alone on this very crowded street. Not knowing what else to do I joined the marching line we had been in. "Keep the Force free! Keep the Force free!" I tried to press my way forward, but had little luck. "Keep the Force free!"
We turned a corner. I saw that the line had flattened into a crowd, which had stopped at an intersection. I thought I saw S’watu up ahead. Another crowd was across the street, holding different signs, chanting different slogans. "Keep Alderaan safe" and "Rebels are criminals." Each side was getting louder and louder, and the lone Alderaanian royal guard was dwarfed by comparison. Finally, there was a metallic bang, and I saw one of the barriers set up on the far side had fallen. Other bangs followed, and the guard was swallowed up as the crush of people ran to meet each other.
Like a riptide, I felt the wave of people behind me pushing me forward, but I had no stomach for such a conflict. I made my way towards the building at the corner and pressed myself against it, letting the crowds stream by me. Shouts and bangs filled the air, and I hoped S’watu was okay. I considered going back for him, but suddenly I remembered I had only just had lunch, and that my work day was in fact not over. I still had an appraisal appointment. But maybe they had heard the news and would cancel? Unlikely. What do they care what happens in the city?
***
I arrived at the office and found Entropy standing by his charging station. What does he do when there isn’t work to be done? He noticed me and activated, straightening his posture. “It is good to see you all in order. There is news of riots, and I was looking for your name among the dead or wounded.”
“I only hoped you would have mourned me if you had found it.”
“As much as I can. I certainly would have told those who would have mourned you.”
“Hard to ask for more from a droid.”
“I beg your pardon!” Entropy said stiffly. “We droids are capable of actions most life forms can only dream of. That we don’t have bothersome emotions is not fault, but a feature.”
“Fair enough,” I chuckled. “But just know you’re bound to rackle those ‘bothersome’ emotions when you so plainly state you were looking for our names among the dead.”
“And wounded,” He corrected.
“Fine.”
I went to my computer and checked my schedule. No cancellations. I said good-bye to Entropy and went on my way.
***
My Starhawk glided over the gravel pathway as I pulled to a stop. The estate was obviously unfinished, but the main residence was complete, at least. The new bloods always wanted to get the first building inspected, the biggest, so that they'd know the costs of what they were getting into. The mansion was yellow and I immediately noticed the lack of windows. Given the beauty of Alderaan, most mansions were more window than wall. I noticed a woman with pale hair and skin to match standing by the doorway. Her clothes were also pale, but more a bland grey than white. This let the string of pearls around her neck stand out. The only real color on her was the orange on her lips.
"Mind if I rest this by the door?"
"Sure," the woman said, cheerfully. "That's a nice bike."
"Thank you," I said, fighting back a smile. Flattery always had an agenda. "I've modified it a good deal - it's got basically everything but guns and shields. It even has repulsor-thrusters on both ends, for quick starting and stopping."
"A strange vehicle for a taxman."
"That's my job." I patted the bike as I let it rest gently against the wall, "This is who I am."
"A racer?"
"A traveler. Alderaan is a big place, with some beautiful views. It's fun to see it on my own, rather than on a tourist bus."
"Yes, tourists can be such a bore." She eyed me carefully, as if locking a missile target on me.
"I agree. People should really invest in places, rather than spend their credits on fleeting memories." Missile evaded. Her stare loosened, satisfied. Much of these assessments was politics. "Shall we?" She led the way as we wandered first the outside of the house.
"First, the easy questions. Who will live here?"
"A staff of about 20, plus my own family and friends of 9?"
"Will you be bringing your own staff?"
"No. Well," She looked away. Then, after a brief pause, "Well, yes. One."
"Clariett, I will advise you here to be truthful with me."
"Oh, it isn't that. I’d bring them all if I could. It's just that Dunyol is the only one left. still hurts to think about." She straightened her short stature, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
I wouldn’t ask what happened – not directly. Direct questions usually resulted in the answers clients wanted to give, which were not always the truth. It's always better to let information come out more naturally. "When Dunyol comes you'll need to file some extra paperwork. There's a tax for importing labor." I, however, showcased curiosity. "Where are you coming from?"
"The war."
Silence. Usually travelling alone, or working with piles of tax records, silence no longer bothered me, but I had learned others hated it and would say anything to fill it. Even the truth.
"I hear the war may come here." She eventually said.
"There will be a vote."
"I thought Alderaan would be safe from the war."
"Didn't we all." I shrugged.
"How will you vote?"
"Haven't decided." No need to give my personal opinions.
"Vote imperial. The rebels will only cause you trouble."
I only knew of two reasons people didn’t like the rebels, and both had to do with money. Either they were invested in the status quo, or they were breaking the law in their own way and didn’t want to attract unnecessary imperial attention.
We inspected the rest of the outside. The walls were high and the foundation went deep. That would cost her extra. At least she took "planting roots" seriously. As we got to the door she let me inside. While the outside had looked daunting and large (and, due to the lack of windows, aggressively plain), the inside was quite breathtaking. Rich red carpets, cream and gold walls, brown and black furniture, and blue trim near the ceiling, Despite myself, I gasped.
"Thank you," She said. "I wanted the inside to seem grand but not engulfing. The galaxy's dangers need not threaten a sense of style. You seem to confirm my success."
I played along, laughing, "It's almost a shame we tax only the floorspace - you've really made the most of this space." I walked through, marking my notes.
Kitchen, dining room, lounge room, observatory, library, other..... dining room, other...... lounge room, other....... observatory?
"Clariett, may I ask why you have built double of everything? I daresay it looks like you aren't being so savvy about floor space as I thought." Another way to get the truth out of someone is to imply another answer would be idiotic.
"Oh, those are the servant's quarters."
"Really? Most people give them an entire separate building for a live-in space. You certainly have the land."
She looked at me, surprised. "They're servants, not slaves. They're living beings, and inevitably we will become close."
"Then why have separate quarters at all?"
"Because I need my privacy. We may become close, but we will never be friends." She chuckled, "Aah, the scandal!"
"So what will you use the rest of the land for?"
"A droid workshop, a social den, and a pool."
I walked into the observatory. She had outfitted the moonlight with curved ferroglass, which had the effect of enlarging the night sky. Stars sparkled more than twinkled, and the moon's features were clear to see. Even the unlit portion was clearly outlined. The view was so clear I had trouble identifying everything I saw, and found myself reviewing my school years in astronomy for answers.
"This also saves me on fortifications."
"What?" I asked, distracted.
"Keeping everyone living in one building. I only need one secure building, in case of attack."
"Attack?"
"The Rebels had been using an obscure moon in Ryloth when their government discovered them. They urged them to leave so as to not endanger such a populated system. The Rebels assured us they would be off soon, since if we discovered them the Imperials wouldn’t be far behind. Ryloth is loyal to the Empire.
“The Rebels evacuated quickly – I’ll give them that – but the Empire was quicker. When the last of the Rebels escaped or were killed, the Empire invaded the planet that moon orbited, my planet. They never believed we hadn’t known of their presence, and as I’ve come to learn not everyone was as ignorant as I. No matter. The Imperials leveled whole towns.”
“But the Rebels had left. Why did-"
“To put a price on collaboration. Intended or otherwise. These walls,” she motioned a white arm up and down to indicate the whole structure, "ensure I will not be caught off guard again."
"The war."
Silence. Usually travelling alone, or working with piles of tax records, silence no longer bothered me, but I had learned others hated it and would say anything to fill it. Even the truth.
"I hear the war may come here." She eventually said.
"There will be a vote."
"I thought Alderaan would be safe from the war."
"Didn't we all." I shrugged.
"How will you vote?"
"Haven't decided." No need to give my personal opinions.
"Vote imperial. The rebels will only cause you trouble."
I only knew of two reasons people didn’t like the rebels, and both had to do with money. Either they were invested in the status quo, or they were breaking the law in their own way and didn’t want to attract unnecessary imperial attention.
We inspected the rest of the outside. The walls were high and the foundation went deep. That would cost her extra. At least she took "planting roots" seriously. As we got to the door she let me inside. While the outside had looked daunting and large (and, due to the lack of windows, aggressively plain), the inside was quite breathtaking. Rich red carpets, cream and gold walls, brown and black furniture, and blue trim near the ceiling, Despite myself, I gasped.
"Thank you," She said. "I wanted the inside to seem grand but not engulfing. The galaxy's dangers need not threaten a sense of style. You seem to confirm my success."
I played along, laughing, "It's almost a shame we tax only the floorspace - you've really made the most of this space." I walked through, marking my notes.
Kitchen, dining room, lounge room, observatory, library, other..... dining room, other...... lounge room, other....... observatory?
"Clariett, may I ask why you have built double of everything? I daresay it looks like you aren't being so savvy about floor space as I thought." Another way to get the truth out of someone is to imply another answer would be idiotic.
"Oh, those are the servant's quarters."
"Really? Most people give them an entire separate building for a live-in space. You certainly have the land."
She looked at me, surprised. "They're servants, not slaves. They're living beings, and inevitably we will become close."
"Then why have separate quarters at all?"
"Because I need my privacy. We may become close, but we will never be friends." She chuckled, "Aah, the scandal!"
"So what will you use the rest of the land for?"
"A droid workshop, a social den, and a pool."
I walked into the observatory. She had outfitted the moonlight with curved ferroglass, which had the effect of enlarging the night sky. Stars sparkled more than twinkled, and the moon's features were clear to see. Even the unlit portion was clearly outlined. The view was so clear I had trouble identifying everything I saw, and found myself reviewing my school years in astronomy for answers.
"This also saves me on fortifications."
"What?" I asked, distracted.
"Keeping everyone living in one building. I only need one secure building, in case of attack."
"Attack?"
"The Rebels had been using an obscure moon in Ryloth when their government discovered them. They urged them to leave so as to not endanger such a populated system. The Rebels assured us they would be off soon, since if we discovered them the Imperials wouldn’t be far behind. Ryloth is loyal to the Empire.
“The Rebels evacuated quickly – I’ll give them that – but the Empire was quicker. When the last of the Rebels escaped or were killed, the Empire invaded the planet that moon orbited, my planet. They never believed we hadn’t known of their presence, and as I’ve come to learn not everyone was as ignorant as I. No matter. The Imperials leveled whole towns.”
“But the Rebels had left. Why did-"
“To put a price on collaboration. Intended or otherwise. These walls,” she motioned a white arm up and down to indicate the whole structure, "ensure I will not be caught off guard again."
I swallowed hard, terrified by the consequences she had seen. "Even if Alderaan votes to join the Rebellion, we will not be a priority of the Empire." As I spoke I realized I was trying to persuade myself as much as her. "Surely other systems are holding similar votes - systems with troops and resources that far outshine ours."
"That makes Alderaan all the easier to crack down on, doesn't it?"
I felt my mouth dry up. "I suppose you have a point."
I stood in the observatory, still transfixed but now forgetting why.
"Do you not often view your own sky?"
"No, I-" I shook my head, and remembered. "I just am not used to seeing that grey disc in the sky."
"The moon?"
"No," I said. I pointed higher up, "*That's* the moon - it's gibbous now." I pointed lower in the sky, "I mean THAT."
"So? Lots of planets have two moons."
"Alderaan doesn't."
"Are you sure?"
"You sound like a tourist." I shot back, jokingly. Her face darkened. I shouldn’t have said that. I changed the subject to minimize her embarrassment. "Is there a second floor?"
"There will be." She said decisively. Obviously the insult had landed hard.
"Do you have plans, or just ideas?"
"Plans."
"Can you send them to me? I'll need to return to check, but I can begin running the numbers and send you back a tax estimate."
"Certainly, hold on."
She walked over to a computer system and typed the keyboard. "Here it is," she said, holding out a datadisk.
"Alright. I'll get you the estimate in a few days."
"Good." Silence. I let it hang, but she held firm.
"Well, good evening."
As I rode I kept my eye to the sky. The grey disk was definitely new, but it didn't reflect light like the moon did. And was it bigger than when I first noticed it? Clariett’s observatory would have enhanced it’s size, and yet it seemed bigger still. I sent a comm out to S'watu. In return I only got static.
"Odd. Must be out of range." These isolated mansions were really out there sometimes.
Tightening my gloves on the accelerator I again considered Senator Organa's proposal. To side with the Rebels was to invite Imperial consequences. But to side with the Imperials was to make those consequences inevitable. The Republic had stood for a thousand years, and though I hated the Jedi as much as any good Republican, if they were trying to prevent the Emperor's rise to power, maybe they were right. But what Clariett said stuck with me. There was crossfire to be concerned about.
The Emperor would not live forever. When the Emperor died, wouldn't the Empire would die with him? While many would see that fragility as a reason to rebel, I like to think my time as a tax assessor gives me a longer view. Money isn't collected at the moment of assessment, but over time. But taxes cannot be collected without assessment. Waiting is the name of the game. Whether in war or old age, the Emperor would die. The Galaxy is large and old. It will endure.
The capital came into view, so I comm'd S'watu again, but got nothing. I tried Sal but received only more static. Maybe too many people are comming at once?
War is unforgiving, and certainly there is no place for a tax assessor. What could I do? What could Alderaan do, "The most beautiful place in the galaxy"? The Isatabith Rainforest, Cloudstill falls, how can beauty add to the war effort? Then again, should we not fight to protect our beauty? If we don't, we risk becoming a Garshyyk in someone else's hologame.
I entered the city streets, weaving through the crowd and honking as necessary. The mood was more afraid than I expected. I saw a few marches, but mostly huddles of people talking, occasionally looking skyward.
I arrived at S'watu's residence and shouted at his door. No reply. Sal came out of the next building, dragging a few bags. "He said he went down to the cantina."
"Thanks. How are you? Last I saw you-"
"This is the last you'll see me." A few kids came out of the house with their own bags.
"What?"
"That goon tried to cheat me out of a price. I found him and beat him good. He said he'd take me at our arranged price if we left tomorrow."
"Tomorr-" I said, almost dreamlike. Sal had always talked about leaving, but I never thought she'd really do it. I watched as she and her siblings load up a speeder, nearly weighed down to the ground by luggage. "So you're leaving now?"
"Gotta be at the hanger early tomorrow - don't want to let them gimme the slip. We’re gonna sleep there tonight to be sure."
"Well I, ummm." What was there to say?
"Come visit us on Bespin, if you ever get off this rock. Otherwise, good byes are easier if they're quick. It was nice knowing you."
I took in a breath. "Good bye, Sal. May the Force follow you out there to Bespin."
She nodded, "Thanks, you too, and good bye." She went back inside.
"You want some help?" I called in after her.
"Nope!" She shouted back.
I walked down the stairs back to my bike, still dreamlike. I passed by a small crowd of people, but their voices were indistinct. I looked up. The grey disc was even bigger now. Would it swallow us all up? Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my reverie. "Do you know what's happening?" I shook my head hard, clearing the my mind.
"No, just that my comm isn't working."
"Yeah mine too. I think we're all blocked out," an older man said. "They say it's that," he paused, "thing." He pointed to the sky.
When he did, an older woman hit his hand down, "Don't point at it!” She hissed, “It might see us."
"What is it?" I asked. "It's like an extra moon or something."
"That's no moon." A man said, "It's the rebels. Come to answer our call of defense. They're scrambling all communication until every imperial on the planet has been arrested."
"Rebels couldn't build anything that big," said another, "It's the Emperor. Word got out Organa wanted us to join the Rebellion, and he's here to arrest him. I say good riddance! His Royalness was always a nuisance,"
"The Emperor wouldn't come himself."
"And aren't other systems holding similar votes?" I put in.
"Have you heard of any?" The older woman asked harshly. She glared at me, until finally I looked away.
"It's not the Emperor, but it is the Empire. They've built a bigger Star Destroyer, and will blockade every system that doesn't pledge loyalty."
"How can we pledge loyalty if communication is prevented?"
Silence.
"Well, whatever's going on, I need to find my friend." I kicked up my feet onto the bike and sped off.
I looked into the sky. This new ship, whoever's it was, was now enormous. It was undeniably bigger than when I had first seen it; bigger than anything I had ever seen in the sky. Star Destroyers occasionally came through Alderaan system, but they were only the size of a large cloud. Enough to block the sun temporarily, but always in motion. This ship hung in the air, immobile, but somehow growing.
Scrambled comms were usually the prelude to an invasion. But who would invade us? The Rebels surely had other priorities, resource-rich planets that would aid in their war effort: Thyferra, Kessel, Kamino. And the galaxy was full of uninhabited planets, perfect for a hidden base. What did Alderaan have to offer?
The Empire, also, must have other priorities. Unless. Unless Senator Organa really had been an anomaly. Maybe the other Senators had merely gone home and not tried to rouse their people to resist. Maybe Organa's public statements were the cause of this thing that had come into our sky.
But surely a lone gunship would have sufficed to arrest him. I'm not even sure the royal guards have blasters any more. So it must be an invasion force. That ship must have hundreds of stormtrooper divisions and thousands of TIEs. But why occupy Alderaan? Clariett's words echoed in my ear: Price of collaboration. Intended or otherwise.
I came to the cantina and stopped my bike. By now the streets were overflowing with people, all exchanging fearful rumors. I pulled my bike into a shadowed alley. Nothing like chaos to invite theft. I went inside and found S'watu sitting with - the waiter?! He saw me and waved me over.
"Aah, Joëlle. You know Param."
"Yes, hello." I shook his hand, suddenly realizing I'd never actually learned his name, despite sitting at his table since he was started working here.
"Hello, Joëlle.” He turned back to S'watu. "I need to get back to work, but I'm glad you came in. Really, really glad. I'll see you later tonight."
“I’m looking forward to it,” S’watu said, beaming.
There was an awkward pause.
"Ok," Param stood up, and paused again. "Ok, see you then," he practically giggled. "Looking for-, I mean, uh, me, too. Can't wait." Then he scurried off.
S'watu turned to me, still beaming. I noticed his left cheek had swollen a bit. I tilted my head, waiting for him to speak. He did not, but his eyes were loud and clear. In the past I would have waited him out, but this was no time for patience.
"Did you really just ask him out? At a time like this?"
"Nothing like impending doom to motivate you."
"Nothing like impending doom to motivate you," I said. "Some of us are worried about real things."
S'watu frowned, "I thought you'd be glad."
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean real things. I am glad you asked - and that it was a good answer. Param is at least as giddy as you seem to be. That's great! It's just, you know. I looked towards the ceiling"
"Of course I know." S'watu's face slackened, but his eyes remained bright. "What do you think it is?"
"I think it's the Empire," I said, frankly. "I think most senators went home and said little to their people. Organa, who we all know is anti-imperial anyway, actually tried to rouse us. The last thing the Emperor wants is another full-scale war. The Rebels are already enough of a scourge without public support. If planets start joining the Rebels, it will be the Clone Wars all over again."
"Hmmm, that makes sense," S'watu said.
"Well what do you think?"
"I think what you said makes sense."
"You know what I mean."
"I haven't really thought about it. I saw that thing in the sky and immediately came here to ask Param out. We've been talking for maybe twenty minutes, mostly about our families and ourselves. I'm no separatist and I'm no rebel. If there is no Senate, what business does our Senator have rousing us to action? I'd be content to let them take Organa and let the Galaxy go about it's business while I go about mine."
"Weren't you the one who said earlier the Emperor surrendered legitmacy when he dissolved the Senate? That this was a self-inflicted wound beyond anything the Rebellion could have done?"
"Yes, and I believe that still."
"And yet you'd let him take Organa?"
"That was before I knew Senator Organa would try to rouse us against him. They both we, nt beyond their limits. Spice Mines for both of them!”
I leaned back, trying to slow my mind. It was infuriating to hear a friend say Senator Organa deserved to be hauled away, and yet what could we do? Senator Organa had not given us a choice - not really. He wasn't empowering us. Instead he was putting a target on our back. We could have remained pacifist and simply pointed to the past and said "This is our tradition." Instead he forced us to renew it, in effect saying either "Sorry, Rebels, we will also stay out of this one," or "The Empire is enough of a threat to upend our tradition." In both cases, we make enemies. Silence would have been safer. I thought about Clariett's story.
He continued, “What can I do about it anyway. I'm not a fighter." He pointed to his swollen cheek.
“Yeah, what about that?”
“I got caught in one of the riots. We got stopped at an intersection and another march was on the other side of the street. We were content to shout at each other, but they knocked over the barrier, and suddenly it was a complete brawl. I think I got a few good punches in, though," He lifted his hands, which were bruised around the knuckles. "Where were you? I thought we were marching together.”
“Oh, I went with Sal. Whoever was giving her passage to Bespin threatened to up the price, and the two of them went at it. When I turned back to find you had disappeared in the crowd, so I stayed with Sal.” I could tell the truth later.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
S'watu traced the rim of his glass mindlessly, his eyes seeing through me. I figured he was thinking, but then I saw his eyes go to the left with purpose and I turned around, wondering what had caught his attention. Oh, just Param, walking into the back room.
I slammed my fist on the table, "Will you stop thinking about him - this is serious now!"
"What do you want me to say?!" He said, exasperated.
"What do we do?"
"What can we do?"
"Something." I said, and I stood up and left.
I went back to the alley and retrieved my bike, relieved it had been untouched. I kicked it on, and began walking it through the crowd, letting it's humming engine help part a path. S'watu came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder, "Where are you going?"
"I don't know. Sitting and complaining won't get us anywhere."
"But what will?"
I looked up suddenly. A green light had begun to fill the sky. Whatever that thing was, it was glowing. Or - no - instead a laser. How did it look so thick from down here? All at once everything went green. I squeezed my bike handles tight. The air burned.
I always knew dying would hurt. My flesh seared, my eyes melted. The ground grew hot and began to break apart. What I never expected was the noise. Buildings toppling. The sound of the laser impacting the planet. And the people.
Their screams were terrifying. Whatever was happening, none on Alderaan would survive. And who to blame? We certainly never found out. Millions of us, for our own reasons and yet for the same reason, crying out in terror, and then suddenly silenced.
I consider this story still a draft. I edit it occasionally. If you have any feedback for me, I'd love to hear it! Email me at armaslow@gmail.com. Please put "Star Wars Stories" in the subject line. Thank you!
"That makes Alderaan all the easier to crack down on, doesn't it?"
I felt my mouth dry up. "I suppose you have a point."
I stood in the observatory, still transfixed but now forgetting why.
"Do you not often view your own sky?"
"No, I-" I shook my head, and remembered. "I just am not used to seeing that grey disc in the sky."
"The moon?"
"No," I said. I pointed higher up, "*That's* the moon - it's gibbous now." I pointed lower in the sky, "I mean THAT."
"So? Lots of planets have two moons."
"Alderaan doesn't."
"Are you sure?"
"You sound like a tourist." I shot back, jokingly. Her face darkened. I shouldn’t have said that. I changed the subject to minimize her embarrassment. "Is there a second floor?"
"There will be." She said decisively. Obviously the insult had landed hard.
"Do you have plans, or just ideas?"
"Plans."
"Can you send them to me? I'll need to return to check, but I can begin running the numbers and send you back a tax estimate."
"Certainly, hold on."
She walked over to a computer system and typed the keyboard. "Here it is," she said, holding out a datadisk.
"Alright. I'll get you the estimate in a few days."
"Good." Silence. I let it hang, but she held firm.
"Well, good evening."
***
As I rode I kept my eye to the sky. The grey disk was definitely new, but it didn't reflect light like the moon did. And was it bigger than when I first noticed it? Clariett’s observatory would have enhanced it’s size, and yet it seemed bigger still. I sent a comm out to S'watu. In return I only got static.
"Odd. Must be out of range." These isolated mansions were really out there sometimes.
Tightening my gloves on the accelerator I again considered Senator Organa's proposal. To side with the Rebels was to invite Imperial consequences. But to side with the Imperials was to make those consequences inevitable. The Republic had stood for a thousand years, and though I hated the Jedi as much as any good Republican, if they were trying to prevent the Emperor's rise to power, maybe they were right. But what Clariett said stuck with me. There was crossfire to be concerned about.
The Emperor would not live forever. When the Emperor died, wouldn't the Empire would die with him? While many would see that fragility as a reason to rebel, I like to think my time as a tax assessor gives me a longer view. Money isn't collected at the moment of assessment, but over time. But taxes cannot be collected without assessment. Waiting is the name of the game. Whether in war or old age, the Emperor would die. The Galaxy is large and old. It will endure.
The capital came into view, so I comm'd S'watu again, but got nothing. I tried Sal but received only more static. Maybe too many people are comming at once?
War is unforgiving, and certainly there is no place for a tax assessor. What could I do? What could Alderaan do, "The most beautiful place in the galaxy"? The Isatabith Rainforest, Cloudstill falls, how can beauty add to the war effort? Then again, should we not fight to protect our beauty? If we don't, we risk becoming a Garshyyk in someone else's hologame.
I entered the city streets, weaving through the crowd and honking as necessary. The mood was more afraid than I expected. I saw a few marches, but mostly huddles of people talking, occasionally looking skyward.
I arrived at S'watu's residence and shouted at his door. No reply. Sal came out of the next building, dragging a few bags. "He said he went down to the cantina."
"Thanks. How are you? Last I saw you-"
"This is the last you'll see me." A few kids came out of the house with their own bags.
"What?"
"That goon tried to cheat me out of a price. I found him and beat him good. He said he'd take me at our arranged price if we left tomorrow."
"Tomorr-" I said, almost dreamlike. Sal had always talked about leaving, but I never thought she'd really do it. I watched as she and her siblings load up a speeder, nearly weighed down to the ground by luggage. "So you're leaving now?"
"Gotta be at the hanger early tomorrow - don't want to let them gimme the slip. We’re gonna sleep there tonight to be sure."
"Well I, ummm." What was there to say?
"Come visit us on Bespin, if you ever get off this rock. Otherwise, good byes are easier if they're quick. It was nice knowing you."
I took in a breath. "Good bye, Sal. May the Force follow you out there to Bespin."
She nodded, "Thanks, you too, and good bye." She went back inside.
"You want some help?" I called in after her.
"Nope!" She shouted back.
I walked down the stairs back to my bike, still dreamlike. I passed by a small crowd of people, but their voices were indistinct. I looked up. The grey disc was even bigger now. Would it swallow us all up? Someone grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my reverie. "Do you know what's happening?" I shook my head hard, clearing the my mind.
"No, just that my comm isn't working."
"Yeah mine too. I think we're all blocked out," an older man said. "They say it's that," he paused, "thing." He pointed to the sky.
When he did, an older woman hit his hand down, "Don't point at it!” She hissed, “It might see us."
"What is it?" I asked. "It's like an extra moon or something."
"That's no moon." A man said, "It's the rebels. Come to answer our call of defense. They're scrambling all communication until every imperial on the planet has been arrested."
"Rebels couldn't build anything that big," said another, "It's the Emperor. Word got out Organa wanted us to join the Rebellion, and he's here to arrest him. I say good riddance! His Royalness was always a nuisance,"
"The Emperor wouldn't come himself."
"And aren't other systems holding similar votes?" I put in.
"Have you heard of any?" The older woman asked harshly. She glared at me, until finally I looked away.
"It's not the Emperor, but it is the Empire. They've built a bigger Star Destroyer, and will blockade every system that doesn't pledge loyalty."
"How can we pledge loyalty if communication is prevented?"
Silence.
"Well, whatever's going on, I need to find my friend." I kicked up my feet onto the bike and sped off.
I looked into the sky. This new ship, whoever's it was, was now enormous. It was undeniably bigger than when I had first seen it; bigger than anything I had ever seen in the sky. Star Destroyers occasionally came through Alderaan system, but they were only the size of a large cloud. Enough to block the sun temporarily, but always in motion. This ship hung in the air, immobile, but somehow growing.
Scrambled comms were usually the prelude to an invasion. But who would invade us? The Rebels surely had other priorities, resource-rich planets that would aid in their war effort: Thyferra, Kessel, Kamino. And the galaxy was full of uninhabited planets, perfect for a hidden base. What did Alderaan have to offer?
The Empire, also, must have other priorities. Unless. Unless Senator Organa really had been an anomaly. Maybe the other Senators had merely gone home and not tried to rouse their people to resist. Maybe Organa's public statements were the cause of this thing that had come into our sky.
But surely a lone gunship would have sufficed to arrest him. I'm not even sure the royal guards have blasters any more. So it must be an invasion force. That ship must have hundreds of stormtrooper divisions and thousands of TIEs. But why occupy Alderaan? Clariett's words echoed in my ear: Price of collaboration. Intended or otherwise.
I came to the cantina and stopped my bike. By now the streets were overflowing with people, all exchanging fearful rumors. I pulled my bike into a shadowed alley. Nothing like chaos to invite theft. I went inside and found S'watu sitting with - the waiter?! He saw me and waved me over.
"Aah, Joëlle. You know Param."
"Yes, hello." I shook his hand, suddenly realizing I'd never actually learned his name, despite sitting at his table since he was started working here.
"Hello, Joëlle.” He turned back to S'watu. "I need to get back to work, but I'm glad you came in. Really, really glad. I'll see you later tonight."
“I’m looking forward to it,” S’watu said, beaming.
There was an awkward pause.
"Ok," Param stood up, and paused again. "Ok, see you then," he practically giggled. "Looking for-, I mean, uh, me, too. Can't wait." Then he scurried off.
S'watu turned to me, still beaming. I noticed his left cheek had swollen a bit. I tilted my head, waiting for him to speak. He did not, but his eyes were loud and clear. In the past I would have waited him out, but this was no time for patience.
"Did you really just ask him out? At a time like this?"
"Nothing like impending doom to motivate you."
"Nothing like impending doom to motivate you," I said. "Some of us are worried about real things."
S'watu frowned, "I thought you'd be glad."
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean real things. I am glad you asked - and that it was a good answer. Param is at least as giddy as you seem to be. That's great! It's just, you know. I looked towards the ceiling"
"Of course I know." S'watu's face slackened, but his eyes remained bright. "What do you think it is?"
"I think it's the Empire," I said, frankly. "I think most senators went home and said little to their people. Organa, who we all know is anti-imperial anyway, actually tried to rouse us. The last thing the Emperor wants is another full-scale war. The Rebels are already enough of a scourge without public support. If planets start joining the Rebels, it will be the Clone Wars all over again."
"Hmmm, that makes sense," S'watu said.
"Well what do you think?"
"I think what you said makes sense."
"You know what I mean."
"I haven't really thought about it. I saw that thing in the sky and immediately came here to ask Param out. We've been talking for maybe twenty minutes, mostly about our families and ourselves. I'm no separatist and I'm no rebel. If there is no Senate, what business does our Senator have rousing us to action? I'd be content to let them take Organa and let the Galaxy go about it's business while I go about mine."
"Weren't you the one who said earlier the Emperor surrendered legitmacy when he dissolved the Senate? That this was a self-inflicted wound beyond anything the Rebellion could have done?"
"Yes, and I believe that still."
"And yet you'd let him take Organa?"
"That was before I knew Senator Organa would try to rouse us against him. They both we, nt beyond their limits. Spice Mines for both of them!”
I leaned back, trying to slow my mind. It was infuriating to hear a friend say Senator Organa deserved to be hauled away, and yet what could we do? Senator Organa had not given us a choice - not really. He wasn't empowering us. Instead he was putting a target on our back. We could have remained pacifist and simply pointed to the past and said "This is our tradition." Instead he forced us to renew it, in effect saying either "Sorry, Rebels, we will also stay out of this one," or "The Empire is enough of a threat to upend our tradition." In both cases, we make enemies. Silence would have been safer. I thought about Clariett's story.
He continued, “What can I do about it anyway. I'm not a fighter." He pointed to his swollen cheek.
“Yeah, what about that?”
“I got caught in one of the riots. We got stopped at an intersection and another march was on the other side of the street. We were content to shout at each other, but they knocked over the barrier, and suddenly it was a complete brawl. I think I got a few good punches in, though," He lifted his hands, which were bruised around the knuckles. "Where were you? I thought we were marching together.”
“Oh, I went with Sal. Whoever was giving her passage to Bespin threatened to up the price, and the two of them went at it. When I turned back to find you had disappeared in the crowd, so I stayed with Sal.” I could tell the truth later.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
S'watu traced the rim of his glass mindlessly, his eyes seeing through me. I figured he was thinking, but then I saw his eyes go to the left with purpose and I turned around, wondering what had caught his attention. Oh, just Param, walking into the back room.
I slammed my fist on the table, "Will you stop thinking about him - this is serious now!"
"What do you want me to say?!" He said, exasperated.
"What do we do?"
"What can we do?"
"Something." I said, and I stood up and left.
I went back to the alley and retrieved my bike, relieved it had been untouched. I kicked it on, and began walking it through the crowd, letting it's humming engine help part a path. S'watu came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder, "Where are you going?"
"I don't know. Sitting and complaining won't get us anywhere."
"But what will?"
I looked up suddenly. A green light had begun to fill the sky. Whatever that thing was, it was glowing. Or - no - instead a laser. How did it look so thick from down here? All at once everything went green. I squeezed my bike handles tight. The air burned.
I always knew dying would hurt. My flesh seared, my eyes melted. The ground grew hot and began to break apart. What I never expected was the noise. Buildings toppling. The sound of the laser impacting the planet. And the people.
Their screams were terrifying. Whatever was happening, none on Alderaan would survive. And who to blame? We certainly never found out. Millions of us, for our own reasons and yet for the same reason, crying out in terror, and then suddenly silenced.
Copyright ©️ 2020 Maslow Stories
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------I consider this story still a draft. I edit it occasionally. If you have any feedback for me, I'd love to hear it! Email me at armaslow@gmail.com. Please put "Star Wars Stories" in the subject line. Thank you!
