Star Wars: The New Rebellion (5 page)

The chamberlain pulled open the door to the Senate Hall as the heralds announced Leia. All this pomp and circumstance had seemed unnecessary until Leia’s discussion with Mon Mothma. Now, after the strange event in the dressing chambers, Leia was glad for the ceremonial diversion. It gave her a moment to collect herself, to set aside the terror sent across space on a wave of frigid cold.

She entered, head held high, two guards at her side. The stepped-up security was obvious: guards at all the doors of the amphitheater, and defense droids scattered among the protocol droids stationed near the non-Basic-speaking senators. Representatives from all species and planets in the New Republic sat in their assigned seats, watching her expectantly. Mon Mothma had been right; Leia’s actions on this day would determine the course of the Senate in the future.

Reporters from dozens of worlds crowded the visitors’ balcony near the fragmented crystal segments in the ceiling. The segments caught and reflected sunlight in a rainbow effect, illuminating the center of the room. The Emperor had designed this little trick to strike awe in those observing him. Leia was glad for the sun and the rippling light. It would distract the new representatives, who had never seen it before.

She started down the stairs. The smell of bodies, human and alien, filled the Chamber, already too warm from the proximity of so many beings. Leia studiously looked ahead, noting, as she passed, M’yet Luure sitting beside his new colleague from Exodeen. Both Exodeenians had six arms, and six legs. They barely fit in the regulation chairs that Palpatine had built in the days when nonhumanoids were considered to be among the less important species. By looks, it was impossible to tell the
former Imperial Exodeenian from his rebellious fellow senator. Indeed, she couldn’t tell any former Imperials by sight, only by reputation.

Like Meido, the first and only senator from the planet Adin. Adin had been an Imperial stronghold, and Leia still wasn’t certain if Meido’s election had been fair. She was quietly having some of her people investigate him. She had memories of his seamed face from her Rebel days, but she couldn’t place him.

Finally she reached the front of the Chamber. The chamberlain announced her as she took her place behind the spotlit podium. The senators applauded, or did the nearest equivalent. The Luyals pounded their tentacles on the desks. The eel-like Uteens had their droids applaud for them. She rested her hands on the podium’s wooden surface, careful to avoid the computer screen. She had no prepared speech, a fact that relieved her now.

The Senate Hall doors closed and the guards moved in front of them. The applause was loud and favorable. Leia smiled, nodding toward old friends and ignoring the new faces. She would deal with them soon enough.

“My fellow senators,” she said over the din. The applause slowly faded. She waited until it was gone before continuing. “We begin a new chapter in the history of the Republic. The war with the Empire is long over and finally we have extended the hand of friendship—”

An explosion rocked the Chamber, flinging Leia into the air. She flew backward and slammed onto a desk, her entire body shuddering with the power of her hit. Blood and shrapnel rained around her. Smoke and dust rose, filling the room with a grainy darkness. She could hear nothing. With a shaking hand, she touched the side of her face. Warmth stained her cheeks and her earlobes. The ringing would start soon. The explosion was loud enough to affect her eardrums.

Emergency glow panels seared the gloom. She could feel rather than hear pieces of the crystal ceiling fall to the ground. A guard had landed beside her, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. She grabbed his blaster. She had to get out. She wasn’t certain if the attack had come from within or from without. Wherever it had come from, she had to make certain no other bombs would go off.

The force of the explosion had affected her balance. She crawled over bodies, some still moving, as she made her way to the stairs. The slightest movement made her dizzy and nauseous, but she ignored the feelings. She had to.

A face loomed before hers. Streaked with dirt and blood, helmet askew, she recognized him as one of the guards who had been with her since Alderaan.
Your Highness
, he mouthed, and she couldn’t read the rest. She shook her head at him, gasping at the increased dizziness, and kept going.

Finally she reached the stairs. She used the remains of a desk to get to her feet. Her gown was soaked in blood, sticky, and clinging to her legs. She held the blaster in front of her, wishing that she could hear. If she could hear, she could defend herself.

A hand reached out of the rubble beside her. She whirled, faced it, watched as Meido pulled himself out. His slender features were covered with dirt, but he appeared unharmed. He saw her blaster and cringed. She nodded once to acknowledge him, and kept moving. The guard was flanking her.

More rubble dropped from the ceiling. She crouched, hands over her head to protect herself Small pebbles pelted her, and the floor shivered as large chunks of tile fell. Dust rose, choking her. She coughed, feeling it, but not able to hear it. Within an instant, the Hall had gone from a place of ceremonial comfort to a place of death.

The image of the death’s-head mask rose in front of her again, this time from memory. She had known this was going to happen. Somewhere, from some part of her Force-sensitive brain, she had seen this. Luke said that Jedi were sometimes able to see the future. But she had never completed her training. She wasn’t a Jedi.

But she was close enough.

An anger flowed through her, deep and fine. She let her hands drop. The tiles had stopped falling, at least for the moment. She beckoned Meido and anyone else who could see her. If she couldn’t hear, they couldn’t either. And they all had to get out.

She glanced up once. The blast had made several holes in the ceiling—big, jagged, gaping holes in the crystal inlay. All of the tile put in by the Emperor had come loose and was falling like hail across the Hall. Other senators were standing. A few ancient protocol droids were lifting chunks of debris and pushing them aside, apparently in an attempt to get someone underneath free. M’yet Luure’s junior senator was already halfway up the stairs, his six legs and long tail blocking the exit for half a dozen other senators. Of Luure, she saw no sign.

The guard took her arm and gestured forward. She nodded, shook him free, and kept moving. She expected more blasts and got nervous each time one failed to happen. This attack was unlike any she had ever felt. Why hit the Senate Hall once and then quit?

She slipped on broken tile, almost fell, put out her left hand to brace herself, and found it in something squishy. She turned, and saw that her hand rested on one of M’yet Luure’s six legs. It had been blown away from his body. She scrambled toward him, hoping that he was alive, shoving aside rock, tile, and marble as she searched—

—and then stopped when she found his face. His eyes
were open and empty, his mouth half-closed over his six rows of teeth. She ran a bloody hand along his torn cheeks.

“M’yet,” she said, the word rumbling in her throat. He didn’t deserve to die like this. She hated his politics, but he was a good friend, a decent friend, and one of the best politicians she had ever met. She had hoped to convert him to her ways. She had hoped he would work with the Republic in a leadership position one day, outside the Senate, where he would be a strong voice for change.

The doors opened. Blinding light filled the Hall. Leia braced herself and propped her blaster on a nearby rock. Then she saw her own security people hurrying in. She got up and ran to them, struggling on stairs and debris, trying not to trip.

“Hurry!” she said as she reached the top. “We have wounded below!”

One of the guards spoke back to her, but she couldn’t hear him. Instead, she surveyed the damage from above. Each seat was covered with debris. Most of the senators were moving, but many weren’t.

The tone had truly been set for this Senatorial term.

And for that, the Empire would pay.

T
he boom made the glow panels dim in the Crystal Jewel. Then the ground shivered. Droid dealers all over the casino wailed as they shook on their moorings. Han’s precariously tilted chair fell. He slipped off it and caught it with one hand. Jarril toppled against the table, spilling the remaining drinks.

“What the—?”

“Groundquake?” someone asked.

“… falling …”

“… Look out!”

The screams and shouts drowned out any attempt at conversation, not that Han was going to try. He’d lived through enough over the years to know that that was no groundquake. That was an explosion.

He tapped Jarril on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What is it?” Jarril yelled.

Han didn’t answer him, at least not directly. “We’re underground, pal. If we don’t get out now, we might not get out at all.”

Jarril probably hadn’t thought that through. These dives never felt as if they were six feet under, although
they were. His scream joined the others as he stood. Han was already shoving his way to the door, his blaster in the face of anyone who tried to stop him. Along the way, he helped a Cemas to its feet, dodged the teeth of a freed nek battle dog, and pulled a wingéd Agee off a crumbling section of ceiling.

The crowd at the door was huge, all scrambling on top of one another, all trying to get free. Then Han realized some idiot had pulled the door shut.

“Let us out of here!” he shouted.

“You don’t know what’s out there!”

“I know that whatever it is, it’s a lot better than dying in here.”

Voices rose with his, all agreeing with his protests. He managed to shove his way to the front. An Oodoc, a species known for its size and strength but not its intelligence, stood before the door, its spiked arms crossed in front of its massive chest.

“It’s safer in here,” it said.

“Listen, toothpick brain,” Han said. “The roof’s about to cave in. I would rather take my chances with whatever’s out there than die with you in here.”

“I wouldn’t,” the Oodoc said.

“Then you don’t have to go.” Han shoved him aside and blasted the lock on the door. The ricochet caught the Oodoc in its spiny back. It growled and lunged for Han as the door swung open.

A tide of seamy creatures flowed into the corridors beyond, gathering Han and sweeping him away from the Oodoc. He pulled free, reached the turbolift by himself, scanned for Jarril, and didn’t see him. The lift stopped a level below the surface and Han went up the stairs two at a time, braced for the next blast, which seemed to take forever in coming.

The crowd reached the doors, bursting through them.
The screaming and shouting stopped when people reached the surface.

Han reached the top and stopped so suddenly that the Gotal behind him slammed into his back. The Gotal shoved him as it pushed away, then it, too, stopped and looked up, its double-cone-shaped head pointing toward the sky.

Han stepped away from the entrance, his mouth dry.

Coruscant looked the same. Nothing had touched the city. Nothing at all.

The sunlight was bright, blinding, and warm. The afternoon was as beautiful as it had been when he went below.

“It couldn’ta been underground, could it?” asked one of the gamblers from the Crystal Jewel, a man who looked vaguely familiar.

Han shook his head. “Something happened somewhere.”

“Not from above,” the Gotal said. “If it had come from above, we’d see the effects.”

“We’d be ducking and running, hoping nothing else hits the city,” the gambler said.

Han put a hand up to shade his eyes as he looked for movement. Finally he saw it: a contingent of guards and medical personnel heading toward the Imperial Palace.

The palace.

The children.

Leia.

He took off after the guards at top speed, nearly mowing down that nek battle dog, which was scampering away from its master. Han dodged in and out of building columns, through streets, always keeping the guards and medical staff in sight.

It was the medical personnel who worried him.

People had been hurt.

They avoided the main entrance to the palace and instead
ran along its side. He felt a moment of relief until he realized where they were going.

The Senate Hall.

His breath was coming in sharp gasps. A stitch had formed in his side. He was in shape, but it had been a long time since he had run at top speed anywhere. And he had been going at top speed for a long time now.

No more blasts.

Odd. Very odd.

He rounded the corner and the sight before him made him run harder. Senators were scattered across the lawn, covered with dirt and several different colors of blood. A black ichor trailed from the senator from Nyny. All three of his heads were tilted backward. If he wasn’t dead, he was close.

Mon Mothma was bent over another senator, talking carefully. Han stopped long enough to tap her shoulder.

“Leia?” he asked.

Mon Mothma shook her head. She looked ten times older than she had that morning. “I haven’t seen her, Han.”