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They are there by compulsion. Nothing less will serve for the installation of the Imperial Senate. And when the applause echoes thunderously through the chamber, he can feel their contempt.
Would that he were allowed to crush them all.
His master comes down from the throne when his speech is done.
“Lord Vader,” he beckons with a crooked finger. “There appear to be some systems who did not receive my invitation.”
“That is unlikely, my Master.”
“Then how do you explain their absence?”
“They are challenging your authority, my Master.”
His master’s tone, already cold, freezes, “Smoke them out, Lord Vader.”
“Yes, my Master.”
He turns on his heel.
Onderon first. Twice rebels, they will be twice damned for their insolence.
----------
“Your Majesty, the Imperial fleet has entered orbit!”
There is a scramble to gather any pacts and tactical information strewn about the throne room; Saw oversees their destruction. General Tandin barks orders to the royal guard. Lux is on the holo with the governors, warning them – telling them to get out, if they can.
They knew the Empire would come for them; still, Steela didn’t expect them to arrive so soon.
Her world blurs together in the frenzy. Her actions are hurried and imprecise; not that it matters, all their preparation goes into the fire anyway.
A hand reaches out for her arm, pulling Steela out of her haze. The king looks as if he’s already resigned himself to defeat.
He speaks quietly, “You have to leave Iziz. All of you, you have to go.”
“We’re not leaving, your Majesty,” she says, unyielding.
“Yes, you are. Get out. Leave Iziz. Your king commands it.”
Head, heart, and gut stubbornly refuse to agree. Obey your king says one. Protect your home says another. Flee for your life says the last. To stand and fight means certain death. To fly to the hills means life, but how many more days will that buy them?
“We won’t leave you,” she says again, louder. Everything stops. The whole room watches them.
He removes his weak grip from her arm and places a gentle hand on her face, “Steela Gerrera, I am ordering you to take everyone in the palace to safety. Onderon is lost if you don’t leave now.”
She locks eyes with him, “What about you?”
He smiles slightly, but his eyes water, “I am doing what I couldn’t do for Onderon the last time: I’m saving her.”
“It’s been an honor to serve you, your Majesty.”
“It was an honor to know you.”
She closes her eyes, resolute, and when she no longer feels the king’s hand on her cheek, starts shouting out orders of her own.
“Saw! Quit burning all the tactical information and grab whatever’s most important! Lux! Take the royal guard and start rounding up whoever else is here! Get to the armory! Take everything you can carry and come back here! General Tandin! I need a route out of the city to the highlands! We’re running.”
Steela goes over to the long table where Saw sorts through piles of disorganized information.
“You can’t be serious, Steela.” He’s as angry as she’s ever heard him, but his voice is low and controlled. “We’ve never run before.”
“I don’t like it any better than you do, but our king commanded it.”
“If we leave, he’ll die!”
“He knows that. And if we stay, we’ll all die. You know that too, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
Saw is livid, but doesn’t argue.
General Tandin comes up beside her with a layout of Iziz. He indicates to the best exits from the city.
“From there –” he points to coordinates just outside the walls “– you should be able to cut a clear path to the highlands without being detected.”
She notices he doesn’t say ‘we’.
“You’re not coming, are you, General?”
“No. My place is with the king. He can’t order me to leave.” He places a pair of Onderonian lyra-shaped pins on the map in front of them. “I resign.”
She nods, “We could have used you, sir, but I understand.”
He laughs, “Ha! I wouldn’t be any use to you. Guerrilla tactics are no game for an old man. I would just get in the way and slow you down. Good luck to you, Steela.”
“And to you, sir.”
They clasp hands in a firm shake.
Lux comes back with nearly two dozen men and women.
“How much of the arsenal did you take?” she asks as he hands her a long-range blaster.
“Just about all of it. The only things left are the ones we can’t carry.”
“Good,” she says, more to herself than to Lux.
Saw joins them and passes Lux the pack of datapads. Lux takes them, almost relieved to be handing the weapons over to Saw.
They can’t look each other in the eye. None of them want to leave. Running is repulsive to them. But it is what they’ve been ordered to do, so run they shall.
The official command falls to Steela. “We’re leaving through the western gate. From the palace we’ll have to take the indirect route to the marketplace. It’ll take longer, but it’ll be safer – further from the landing bay, where Imperial troopers will be landing any minute. Stick together; let’s not lose anyone on our way out of the city. Move out.”
Her recruits obey and exit the throne room.
Steela, Saw, and Lux linger as Tandin takes his place alongside the king. He salutes them. They turn and salute back.
“Long live King Ramsis Dendup!” he cries.
As a chorus, they echo him, “Long live the King!”
----------
They stay hidden in the hills for a few days. Nobody seems to know what to do, even Saw appears to have lost his thirst for battle. Steela concerns Lux the most.
She keeps watch over the ridge, barely sleeping. Lux brings her something to eat. She’s sprawled out on the ground with her rifle before her.
“How are you holding up?” he asks crouching down to her level.
Turning away from the targeting gage, “I keep thinking about what he said to me, how he was saving Onderon. How can you save something if you’re not alive?”
It is not the answer to the question he asked, but it is the start of an answer to the question on everyone’s mind: what are we going to do?
“King Dendup died to give us the chance to escape –”
“I know that,” she snaps.
“Let me finish. The fact we lived means the Empire made the same vital mistake as Count Dooku when he killed my mother. They made a martyr of the king, and they probably made martyrs of at least half a dozen more on other systems. People are raring for a fight. Let’s give it to them.”
“You sound hell-bent on revenge again.”
“Maybe I am, but I also want to take back Onderon for the people. Don’t you?”
Steela acts as if she doesn’t hear him; taking the can of beans he brought and shoveling a couple of spoonfuls in her mouth.
Lux sighs and lies down in the dirt beside her.
“How do you propose we get in contact with those other systems?”
Taken aback, “I wasn’t suggesting –”
“I know, but breaking the Empire’s hold on Onderon, won’t remove the threat. If we join forces with other bands of guerilla fighters – other splinter groups from the Confederacy – we’ll make a greater impact. Maybe even put a blaster to Palpatine’s head.”
His laugh is foreign in his own ears, “Now that may be overreaching.”
“You don’t think we can do it?”
“No, I think it’s going to be one hell of a fight.”
Steela grins wryly at him, “You’re going to need to practice your aim, if you think I’m going to let you join the battle without proper training.”
“Hey, we’re insurgents. We don’t need proper training.”
He kids, but only slightly. Steela’s right: he’s capability when it comes to warfare is rusty. He hasn’t fired a blaster since the occupation. And aside from the royal guard, he’s doubtful half of their ragtag team ever held a blaster before their flight.
They’ll have to make do with what they have.
----------
Alderaan calls and Bail serves. He cannot deny his system anything it asks of him; it isn’t a question of principle.
Bail refills Alderaan’s vacant seat.
It is the same one he occupied in the Galactic Republic Senate, but it no longer is a proponent for good and an advocate for change. It is the Imperial Senate, but the seat is all that stands between Alderaan and the same utter ruin that befell Onderon and her sister systems.
It must not come to that.
He must be a barrier between Alderaan and the Empire, Padmé and the Emperor, Padmé’s child and Vader.
This government is a farce. He will stomach the worst of its horrid dealings, possibly contribute to them, but he will do it.
He will sit in Alderaan’s seat so long as it keeps them safe.
It is the only thing he knows he can do to protect them.
----------
“We won’t be here long, Saw, but we need to regroup. We need to organize.”
Lux chimes in, “If we can stay in one place for more than a few days, maybe our contacts will actually be able to get back to us.”
They mistake his reluctance to settle here as reluctance to settle anywhere. It’s really just this place Saw doesn’t like. They’re in Republic territory. They’re all part of the Empire now, but the people of Denon fought on the side of the Republic. They cannot take too kindly to Separatists, even splinter Separatists.
Still, he supposes hiding here has its advantages. The city gives them good cover to make contacts; the Emperor will never be able to single out their frequencies amongst all the others. And there’s something to be said for hiding right under his nose.
Lux gets to work assembling their communication systems. Steela picks a table at the back and starts going over the tactical coordinates they were able to smuggle out of Iziz. Saw pours them each a drink and joins her.
Steela doesn’t look up when he hands it to her.
“Once we make our contacts, we’ll need a rendezvous point,” she says. “Not here, obviously.”
“We should get back into the wilds. They’re our best chance.”
Stiffly, “This isn’t like the occupation, where we know the lay of the land.”
“But we do know how to survive out there. We know how to hole up and defend, and we know how to attack, even if we don’t know where we’re going.”
“What about places we know there are Imperial outposts? What about Jabiim? Is that remote enough, while still allowing us to run our operations?”
Saw shifts a little. They’d still be in Republic territory. He supposes it’s something he’ll just have to get used to. Ending the Empire will free them all. Doesn’t matter what side of the Clone Wars they were on.
“As good a place as any,” he concedes.
They start marking out possible coordinates for landings and base camps. They don’t have the tactical information they need to know exactly where the outposts are stationed, but they make some guesses.
Lux joins them briefly, “I had to wire it through some unreliable networks, but I was able to configure our frequency; now it’s a matter of waiting and hoping someone can get through this garbled mess of a planet.”
“Excellent work, Bonteri. You’re finally getting your hands dirty.”
To his credit, Lux ignores Saw.
“Would you go around and make sure everyone knows the passcode?”
“Sure thing, Steela.”
Lux has come a long way from the spoiled, rich kid he was when they met. In Saw’s estimation, he may even be worthy of Steela now.
“How’s that going?” he asks when Lux is sufficiently out of earshot.
“It’s none of your damn business.”
“Well, it’s getting pretty exhausting of watching the pair of you make moon-eyes at each other, so you better do something about it.”
Steela grits her teeth, “I said: it’s none of your business.”
“Fine,” he says dismissing it. Spotting something on the map, “There! A way in, a way out, proximity to a backwater town; you couldn’t ask for a better hide out.”
Steela takes down the coordinates, “Let’s hope there’s a target nearby.”
----------
As they work into the night, the measured ticking of the clock is the only sound in the room, save for the occasional sigh or tapping stylus. Katei is not bothered by it, but Breha is concerned on her chief of staff’s behalf.
“You should go home, Katei. It’s late.”
The woman shakes her head, “I’ll stay as long as you need me, ma’am.”
Breha swallows. There won’t be a time she doesn’t need Katei, especially now. (The Emperor’s hand presses down on them all.)
She is firm, “Go home. Be with Colton. Take care of yourself and the baby.”
Katei isn’t far along, but Breha recognizes the early stages of pregnancy and motherhood. As the first of four children, three times Breha watched her mother grow in size and love. As the mother of one, she knows from experience.
“It would be something if my husband was home before me, ma’am, but thank you. You’re certain you don’t need me for anything else?”
Breha nods, “I will see you in the morning.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Katei stands to leave, smoothing of folds of her dress over the slight bump. Though never far from her mind, the act reminds Breha of Padmé and her unborn children.
Not long now, she thinks. When last she and Bail heard from General Kenobi, Padmé was in sound health. The next time they hear from him it will be to make arrangements to collect the baby girl.
She looks towards Katei, now checking her holo for messages, admiring her courage. It seems such a foolish thing – to bring a child into the galaxy now – but the Aldes are undaunted by the Emperor. They would look him in the eye, if they could, and rail against him.
Perhaps they are a bit foolhardy.
But their surety on the matter is comforting, in its own way.
Breha finds their resolve strengthens the promise she and Bail made to Padmé. Even if that promise could hurt Alderaan – the Aldes – Breha knows they would willingly follow.
It is not in the people of Alderaan to be faint of heart.
----------
They huddle around the table, Steela and Saw dividing the insurgents into squads; Lux, Talia, and Sanjay going over their weapons inventory. Ahsoka reviews the plan.
They’re unconventional tactics, but this is not a conventional war. They can’t rely on what they know. They have to rely on instinct and luck. She ignores both voices in her head, giving her conflicting instructions (trust your instincts; luck doesn’t exist).
“And, of course, Ahsoka’s got her lightsaber,” Talia points out to the group.
“I won’t be using it.”
Everyone stops and stares.
Saw asks the question they’re all thinking, “Why not?”
She shakes her head, “If I use the Force too liberally it could be a signal flare to Vader.”
“You think Vader’s got it in for you?”
I know he does, she thinks to herself. But she acts like she doesn’t know any different than they do and shrugs, “He might. After killing my master, what’s to stop him from coming after the student? Besides, if he’s not after me, he’s definitely after any rebels. I won’t be the one to lead him to you.”
“In that case, we’re down another blaster,” Lux says. “We won’t have enough firepower to make a second assault if this one fails.”
Steela stands straight, “So, we either take the outpost and the armory or we’re done?”
Lux nods affirmation.
“Then let’s not fail.”
More old lessons echo in Ahsoka’s mind: There is no try.
----------
“What do you intend to do with those two droids?” asks Raymus Antilles when he comes to collect Padmé. “I doubt you’ll have very much use for them working for my brother-in-law.”
R2 balks at the presumption either he or 3PO (even with his memory wiped) could be useless.
But the captain does have a point. Their functions will be useless to Padmé. She doesn’t fly and she isn’t a senator anymore.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” she responds.
“I could make use of them on the Tantive IV, if you don’t mind giving them up.”
Padmé looks at R2 with a little apprehension.
R2 chirps that the solution is fine with him.
She nods, “They’re all yours, captain.”
It’s not ideal, not by a long shot, but it will keep them close to Padmé and her daughter. It will keep them close to the action.
----------
“Miss Panteer?”
The voice calls out again, louder, “Miss Panteer?”
She ignores it.
“Sidonie!”
Padmé startles. She doesn’t think she will ever get used to her new name, but it serves its purpose.
Colton raises his brow at her. It’s surprisingly good to see him again. Between the horror and the heartbreak, Padmé is grateful for a familiar face that doesn’t judge – doesn’t know the truth (about any of it: their marriage, Vader, Leia). He accepts she is hiding from the Emperor; he doesn’t ask why. There is no need to question his loyalty.
“Sorry,” she says then casts a glace around the room. “We’re in private; you can call me by my real name.”
“I would, but you apparently need the practice, Sidonie.”
“Was there something you needed?”
He passes her a datapad, “I’ve been reaching out to representatives of systems like Chandrila, Pantora, Rodia, Corellia – systems we know oppose the Emperor; figuring out what we can do to protect ourselves and each other.”
“The senator mentioned as much to me,” Padmé responds, absently looking over the datapad. “It’s a good idea. We don’t know what Palpatine will do with his newfound authority –”
“I want to do more. Reinstating the Senate, even an Imperial Senate, is an act to placate us. And we can’t let it.”
She stares at him blankly. She had forgotten what fire and fight sounded like in a person’s voice.
It breathes life into her own, “We should form a resistance.”
“You mean rebel?”
“In a manner of speaking. We can use the contacts you’ve made already and turn them into an alliance; make it our goal to dissolve the Empire and restore the Republic.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to convince anyone to join such a cause? If the Emperor isn’t enough to strike fear into the hearts of the people, you can damn well expect Vader is.”
Padmé wavers slightly.
Vader stands between her and everything. His size and strength frighten her now in a way they never had before. But if she falters before him, how can she expect others to stay strong before his terrible might?
“We’ll need a rallying point: something or, more preferably, someone who can lend credence to our cause, to give the people courage.”
“Your death may be a good starting point. You were always a strong proponent for freedom and critic of the Emperor’s actions when he was Chancellor. Surely, the people would unite in your memory,” Colton suggests.
She sighs, “It would be disingenuous, considering I’m still alive. We don’t want to found this alliance on a lie, especially one which could be discovered. Besides, the official story is I was fleeing Coruscant. Hardly the courageous act we’re looking for.”
Running a hand through his already-messy hair, “I don’t think he’ll like the idea, but the senator would make a fine figurehead. His political record and renown as an orator make him as ideal a choice as yourself.”
Padmé agrees: he would be the perfect leader and figurehead, but Colton is right, Bail will not be easily persuaded.
“He may not like it, but he is our best option. He is already a great leader and the people will follow him.”
“You sound like you think you can convince him.”
The corners of her mouth twitch, but she does not smile. In another time Padmé Amidala would have led the crusade. It’s not who she is now.
She is Sidonie Panteer and she must follow in the ranks.
----------
They wait in silence for his response.
Bail should have seen this coming. The coalition was the beginning of something bigger for Colton. And Padmé, well, he never expected she would be content living in hiding.
Alderaan only toes the line of compliance with the Empire. This resistance movement will push them over for certain. Thrusting them into unknown territory, territory where even his involvement in the Senate cannot protect them.
But they can do more than protect themselves. Padmé’s right about that. There’s always more than can do.
“I have two conditions.”
If they are going over the line, Bail will lead them over, but only on his terms.
“First, this alliance will be a peaceful resistance. Protest, boycotts, rallies; nothing will harm anyone. I fear those actions alone will be enough to provoke a military response, but I will not become a soldier. I will see to it the voices of the people are heard. Imperial or no, the Senate is still a Senate, it must listen.”
Colton stammers that legalese will be ineffectual. Bail doesn’t care, for the time being it will be enough to give people hope. They already hear rumors of rebel factions in the outer rims taking up arms. Perhaps, when the timing is better, they will join them.
“What is your second condition?”
Padmé’s voice is clear, but her expression is muddled. Bail cannot tell if she’s disappointed.
“Breha must agree to this. Even as Alderaan’s senator, I will not make her cross the line of rebellion without the consent of her queen.”
If he makes this decision alone, he will draw Alderaan into a conflict she may not want any part of. He will not stoop to the Emperor’s level.
----------
Too quickly they are forced to retreat. The stormtroopers were ready for them this time, planting landmines throughout the forest.
Six explosions go off before Steela realizes they’ve lost two entire squads. Another suffers five severe casualties, but no others dead. She drags her brother back to the camp before he can do anything rash.
Her heart pounds heavily in her chest. Each thud feels like another blast.
When they reach the base, Saw breaks her grip and stalks off.
Ahsoka stands nearby, stony-faced.
“Vader was there.”
“What the hell would he be doing way out here?”
Ahsoka doesn’t answer and Steela reaches a comforting hand out to her, “Hey, it’s okay.”
No, it’s really not, but what else can she say? Vader’s killed the king, General Tandin, Kenobi, Skywalker, and so many others; he’ll kill so many more before this is over.
“You’ve just got to keep fighting back.” It’s a reminder to herself, as well. This is their first major loss. Steela suddenly understands how easy it could be to just give up; to cut and run, and not look back.
It’s not in her to run, it never has been. It’s why it was so hard to abandon Iziz; it’s why it’s so hard to account for their losses now and move on.
So long as she is in command and so long as she fights for Onderon, she will not betray the trust King Dendup placed in her. She will prove herself worthy of that trust and fight every day until Onderon is free.
----------
It’s not much, just an unlabeled treaty on a datapad, but Alliance to Restore the Republic is established.
Padmé feels a small sense of accomplishment. The real work can now begin.
Bail puts the finishing touches on a speech he will record and send out to all participating systems. They dare not organize a public event, not yet; it is still too fragile an alliance. The speech is meant reinforce those ties.
He reads it aloud.
“What do you think?”
Tentatively, “It’s good.”
Bail laughs, “That’s what you say when there’s something wrong with my work. Come on, let’s hear it.”
“Your ending is weak,” she admits.
He reads again, “‘In standing shoulder to shoulder, we will meet whatever challenge with the sound of our voices united and the strength of our resolve combined. Then with each other’s help, we shall prevail’. What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing technically, but it lacks something.” It is all vague references and empty promises; there is nothing which outright defies the Empire.
“I know what it is you want me to do, Padmé, but I will not antagonize the Emperor, not yet. It is too soon. We must build and grow before we can take a firmer stance against him.”
“What if we challenged him indirectly?”
“And how do you propose we accomplish that in this speech?”
“The Republic was not alone in its fall and Palatine must fear the revival of the Jedi more than any resistance which takes a stand against him.”
She doesn’t know why she didn’t think of it sooner. The Sith are a perversion of everything the Jedi were. And though Palpatine has yet to come forward as the Sith Lord that he is, the galaxy knows.
She stands to leave, “May the Force be with you, Bail Organa; may it be with all of us.”