Star Wars, page 25
LEIA WOKE UP WITH A start. Not only had Prime Minister Yens deftly delayed their viewing of the black tower—not unexpected—but Leia was keenly aware that there would be little opportunity for her to continue any talks on Madurs joining the new republic. The Halcyon had only stopped on the moon as an alternative to cruising through the meteor showers, something that was scheduled to only take a few standard days before arrival at Synjax. Short of abandoning her own honeymoon, Leia would have to go when the shuttles left tomorrow.
Han rolled over and looked at the time. “Skim-blading,” he groaned.
Skim-blading was a charming excursion, but Leia shared Han’s sentiments. It was even worse when they arrived at the area set up for the guests, partway between the spaceport and the ice palace, where Leia and Han could almost see the point of the black tower in the distance. It was as if Yens were taunting them.
While the other guests from the Halcyon strapped on skim-blades, Leia had her eye on the proose-driven sleds that had brought them to the area. The younglings on the trip squealed with joy as they wobbled on the thin blades of pulsating light that cut razor-sharp lines in the thick, snow-dusted ice.
Han looked on, amused, but Leia interrupted his thoughts. “Do you think we can just take a sled for a bit?”
Han cast an evaluating eye at the nearest sled and the enormous proose strapped to it. “Absolutely,” he said confidently.
“Really?”
“Sure,” Han replied. “We could take one right now. But taking one without being seen?” Han made an exaggerated show of looking around the barren ice field, flat on all sides with clear vision right up to the ice cliffs where the anglers lived. “That’s not happening.”
Leia nudged him. He knew what she’d meant. Fine. They’d have to use a different tactic. She marched over to Prime Minister Yens, who was yelling at the children.
“Don’t go over in that area!” he called, pointing to a spot that had been marked off with red powder. “That ice is too thin to be safe.”
“Prime Minister,” Leia said, smiling at him warmly. “Thank you so much for arranging this.” Before Yens could respond, Leia continued. “Unfortunately, I’m no good at skim-blading.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Yens said.
“And it’s my honeymoon, as you know. I was hoping to take a sled out, a little romantic moment with my husband…”
Prime Minister Yens looked at her so intently that Leia’s words died on her lips. “Yes,” he said. “A good idea. Out in the open air.”
“Exactly,” Leia said cautiously.
“I’ll drive you myself.”
Leia hid her surprise, but she couldn’t very well deny the prime minister’s offer. So, while the younglings slid and bladed across the ice, she and Han bundled into the back of a sled as Prime Minister Yens himself took the reins.
Yens drove them straight out onto the ice. Once they were far enough out that they could no longer hear the children screeching in joy on the ice, Yens pulled the proose to a stop. The pronged beast stomped on the ice, the sound echoing.
When Yens spoke, his voice was soft, but in the cold, clear air, Leia and Han could easily hear him. “Do you know why we had to build the docks for shuttles so far away from the palaces?”
Leia glanced at Han, who shrugged. “To create a dramatic entrance?” she asked, thinking of the ice-zippers and the sleds and the awe she’d held when she first saw them.
“The environment is delicate on a water world,” Yens said as if Leia hadn’t spoken. “Despite being frozen, this world is made of water, make no mistake. Beneath the ice, pollution spreads quickly. Debris falls on the ice, we can pick it up and take care of it. But waste that seeps into the water becomes diluted, poisoning everything a fraction at a time.”
Leia frowned. It was hard to imagine this pristine world polluted. But she dared not speak and break the prime minister’s thoughts.
“We are a small moon,” Yens continued. “Our only fame is in our art. And when the Empire first reached out to me, I thought, What does the Empire want with art?”
He was silent then for a long while. Han eventually lost patience. “Well?” he demanded. “What did the Empire want with your art?”
Yens turned around and faced them for the first time since they boarded the sled. “Not a damn thing,” he growled. Then he jerked the reins, setting the proose directly toward the black tower.
The Empire had only wanted Madurs’s carnium, Leia knew that. And Yens knew it now as well, too. They sped along the ice, drawing closer to the broken palaces. Leia thought about Nah’hai, and the way she emphasized how all art is temporary, a belief backed up by the ice painting they’d seen yesterday. But this town had sharp cracks, ridges that cut into the sky. The broken edges were not dulled by time or weather; the intricate, lacelike details of the awnings still seemed new.
Yens pulled the sled up before they left the confines of the last building. It was not just shattered castles; there were smaller buildings here, built of more solid materials. “It’s not safe beyond this point,” Yens said flatly. “I’m telling you this not because it’s some ploy to keep you from the area, but because it is a fact. The ice quakes hit stronger in this area, and the ice is thinner. We evacuated the city for a reason.”
Leia leaned forward. “Is the area unstable because of the black tower?” she asked. It loomed on the horizon, closer than she and Han had gotten before.
“Obviously.” Yens turned around in his seat, his back to the tower, but his eyes past Han and Leia, toward the broken, glittering walls of the destruction around them. Even here, there was beauty. Sorrow, too. “A sculptor may use any material,” he said softly, although Leia wasn’t sure the prime minister was talking to them or himself. “We choose to use ice because it is a part of the art. It melts. Everything passes. Nothing lasts forever.”
Han opened his mouth, but Leia pressed her hand down on his leg, silencing him. Prime Minister Yens’s gaze slid to Leia.
“You say the Empire is fallen.” The prime minister’s tone held a question, one Leia was coming to hate.
“It’s as fallen as that space station,” Leia said, pointing to the tower. She still had no idea how the tiny moon had been able to make an Imperial station crash into their surface, although it was clear now that they had sacrificed a city to do it, and the presence of the station was harming their environment. The prime minister hadn’t been subtle in the link between the tower and the thinning ice.
This fallen station was significantly smaller than Calderos, an Imperial-controlled waystation in space near Wobani in the Bryx sector. The Rebellion—before Leia had officially joined it—had destroyed that station, and Leia had witnessed its remains after returning from a diplomatic mission. Perhaps she was wrong to be surprised at this station’s destruction. The entire moon seemed to support Prime Minister Yens’s vision of independence, and with a concentrated effort, it was not impossible to destroy something of the Empire’s. She knew this to be true. And she should appreciate Madurs’s effort, not question it.
But her words did not seem to comfort the prime minister. Rather than believe her assertion that the Empire was truly fallen, he raised his eyebrow, smirking in a defeated way. He glanced at his wrist chrono, then turned back to the proose’s reins. “We have to go,” he said.
“Punctual,” Han muttered as if that were the worst possible insult he could toss at someone.
They had barely begun their sled ride, and Yens was already attempting to make them leave. But before they’d reached the skim-blading arena, the proose let out a keening bellow. A moment later, the air echoed with the violent cracking sound of ice, a sharp pinging noise echoed by a dull snap.
Leia had time for just one thought—The ice quakes are happening on a schedule—they’re not natural, that’s why Yens checked his chrono—and then the proose, panicked, leapt up, jerking the sled so violently that Leia crashed into Han’s side, and they both tumbled toward the edge of the open sled. Han wrapped his arms protectively around Leia, but his legs swung out of the tilting sled, his boots skimming the ice. If they crashed now, there was every chance they’d both be crushed under the weight of the sled.
The ice cracked again, violently shoving one side up by almost a meter. Fortunately, it bumped Han back into the sled as it teetered toward the other side. Prime Minister Yens was shouting at the proose—sounds that Leia couldn’t identify as words, perhaps just calls the proose recognized—but whatever it was, it didn’t make a difference to the animal, who careened forward.
They were nearing the skim-blading area—heading straight for it, right at the children zipping along in their skim-blades. Leia’s heart seized in fear—the enormous animal would surely plow down anyone in their path, youngling or not—but then flashes of red cut through the sky. Leia and Han clutched each other, and when the sled came to an abrupt stop, they both crashed to the floor.
Shakily, Leia stood and saw that several of the local proose drivers on the ground had cast disruptor rays at the sled, causing the proose to fall to its knees. As soon as it was down, they rushed the animal, throwing lines over its bent neck and back, securing it to the ice, while a pair of other drivers ran close to its head, gently soothing it with calming words, wiping away the froth at the animal’s mouth.
“Is it okay?” Leia asked, standing up and peering over the edge of the sled toward the proose. Its chest heaved, and foam glistened on its fur, but its large floppy ears were drooping, and its head was lying on the ice, as if it were almost asleep now.
“I was going to ask the same of you,” Prime Minister Yens said. His cheeks were flushed, eyes wide. The rampaging animal had scared him, Leia could tell, and although it was clear that the locals had known how to deal with a panicked proose, it was just as evident that this had been a dangerous situation for everyone.
“We’re fine,” Leia said, checking on Han, who nodded sharply.
Prime Minister Yens’s shoulders sank in relief. “It’s always dangerous to get close to the Empire,” he said, just loud enough for them to hear.
CHAPTER 39
HAN
IF THEY WANTED TO KNOW what was going on, they were simply going to have to figure it out on their own.
Han shot Leia a look as the children started to reluctantly take off their skim-blades to head back to the palace. Leia nodded, understanding what he meant without words. But then she shrugged, as if to say: But how are we going to get away from the group?
That was the problem, of course. Put Leia on a battlefield, and she shot her blaster without question. Put her in a diplomatic situation, though, and she deferred to politics and politeness.
The setting didn’t matter to Han. Everywhere was a battlefield, even if it was dressed up differently.
Not that he could shoot Yens to get his way. No, he’d considered that option and knew it would be more trouble than it was worth.
“Hey,” he said when Yens walked past him, carrying a pair of skim-blades for a tiny youngling. When the prime minister paused, Han continued. “My wife and I are going back to the shuttle.” He jerked his thumb toward it.
The other man’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
No reason to lie. “Gotta get something from inside.”
“What?” Yens asked.
“Does it matter?” Han shot back, trying to inject some authority into his voice. If Yens refused this request, then they were prisoners, not tourists, on this world. Leia might consider Han’s approach rude, but rudeness was just a weapon on this battlefield.
“I don’t suppose so,” the prime minister said, but he may as well have said: I don’t suppose I can stop you.
Good. They were finally getting somewhere.
“But I cannot give you a sled,” Yens said. “The proose we used before is in no condition to carry passengers now.”
Handlers had gotten that proose up again and attached leads to its harness. They had begun walking back to the ice palace, the handlers practically running to keep up with the proose’s long-legged ambulatory stride. With that sled down, Prime Minister Yens had probably expected to double up a few sleds to get everyone back to the palace for lunch.
“We can walk,” Han said. It wasn’t that far. They had thermal disks for warmth, and unlike Hoth, this planet had clear skies and no real risk of a blizzard to cause them harm. Even if foul weather did arrive, the ice fields were flat, with easy targets to get to—the ice palace was huge and plainly visible. “Unless,” Han added, “you think another ice quake will arrive sometime soon.” He made a show of looking at the prime minister’s wrist chrono. “But I don’t think one is due for several more hours, do you?”
He was tipping his hand here, showing that he knew the ice quakes happened on a schedule rather than randomly, but Prime Minister Yens’s face remained blank. “No, I don’t suppose so,” he said. Without another word, the prime minister turned and headed to the cart carrying the skim-blades.
Well, that was pretty much permission, wasn’t it? Not that Han needed permission, but at least this meant they shouldn’t be hassled as they walked away. Leia smirked at him as he held his arm out pretentiously for her to hold, as if they were stepping into a ballroom.
“Where are you going?” one of the guests from the Halcyon demanded as they strolled by.
“Romantic afternoon stroll,” Han said in a superior tone.
“On the ice?” the woman asked incredulously.
“Where else?” Han said, and he led Leia out onto the barren ice field.
* * *
—
Getting inside the spaceport was easy enough; there was no security. But the shuttle itself was locked. Han had vaguely hoped that since the shuttle belonged to Madurs and since there was so little travel on the remote moon, it would be easily accessible, but no such luck. Han tugged a second time on the release bar, just in case, but the hatch didn’t budge.
“Don’t tell me a locked door is going to stop you,” Leia said.
“How much of a thief do you think I am?” Han said, fiddling with the scanner lock frame under the release bar. “You expect me to know how to break into any ship I come across? I happened to run respectable jobs before Luke got me all tangled up with your Rebellion.”
“I just meant—” Leia said, her eyes widening a little in surprise at his response.
“I may be a scoundrel, but I’m not some common criminal.” Han’s voice was wounded as he turned away from Leia, facing the shuttle.
“I’m sorry,” Leia said, gentling her voice. “I only meant that—”
“There.” Han pocketed the code breaker he carried on his belt as the locking mechanism in the hatch popped open and the door swung open. Leia gaped at him, and Han gave her his most roguish grin.
“You!” Leia snarled at him, but she was laughing.
Inwardly, Han breathed a sigh of relief that the ploy had worked. The code breaker wouldn’t break anything with higher security, but Madurs had put only a basic lock on the hatch, probably to keep out curious passersby. Not that there were many people meandering around the ice fields. Still, the locking code had been simple enough, thankfully.
Once inside, Han went straight to the crates by the door, Leia at his heels. It was the observation deck in the fishing station that had given him the idea. Being underwater truly wasn’t that different from being in space; Mon Cala even had a shipyard where they constructed ships underwater, pumping the liquid out only when the ship was ready for flight, and Mon Calamari ships were among the best.
Inside the first crate were emergency evacuation flare shells, but the second contained spare breathers and vests with thermal disks attached, emergency supplies needed in the event of an untimely departure from the shuttle while in space. Unlike the thermal disks they wore for comfort on the icy moon, these heavy-duty units were designed for use in space and could withstand changes in pressure. And were, hopefully, waterproof.
“Here,” Han said.
Leia plucked a breather from the top. Combined with the vest, it would allow an oxygen-breathing being to survive in the void of space, providing heat, air, and minor protection. “This is the big plan?” Leia asked tentatively.
“The water is cold on this world, but not colder than space,” Han said, taking off his trademark vest and swapping it for the one dotted with thermal disks before fitting a breather over his nose. “All we need is warmth and air, and this has us covered.”
Han felt his lip curling into a salacious smirk.
“What?” Leia demanded.
“It’s just…if we’re going underwater to inspect the remains of that Imperial station…”
“We can’t just walk up to the front door and knock,” Leia said, exasperated. “We have to inspect it, obviously. Something’s causing the quakes. It’s got to be some form of blasting ray, or…” She caught Han’s look again. “What?”
“Oh, no, it’s just, I absolutely agree we should go underwater to investigate,” he said. “But…” He gestured to all of her. “Those clothes may get in the way.” Leia had worn a fur-lined suit for the day’s activities, dressed up with her white gwendle cloak.
Leia stared at him flatly. “Are you expecting me to skinny-dip?”
“The thermal disks would keep you warm, and—” He stopped talking when Leia threw her white gwendle cloak at his face. She didn’t strip down entirely, but the bodysuit that remained would both enable her to easily swim and also…Well. Han didn’t mind it one bit.
“And you?” Leia asked, hand on her hip.
“Not all of us bring multiple outfit changes with us.”
“I suppose if they get wet, your clothes are halfway to being washed for once,” Leia grumbled.
“My clothes are clean!” Han protested.
“At least you wore something nice for our wedding,” Leia muttered.
Han rolled over and looked at the time. “Skim-blading,” he groaned.
Skim-blading was a charming excursion, but Leia shared Han’s sentiments. It was even worse when they arrived at the area set up for the guests, partway between the spaceport and the ice palace, where Leia and Han could almost see the point of the black tower in the distance. It was as if Yens were taunting them.
While the other guests from the Halcyon strapped on skim-blades, Leia had her eye on the proose-driven sleds that had brought them to the area. The younglings on the trip squealed with joy as they wobbled on the thin blades of pulsating light that cut razor-sharp lines in the thick, snow-dusted ice.
Han looked on, amused, but Leia interrupted his thoughts. “Do you think we can just take a sled for a bit?”
Han cast an evaluating eye at the nearest sled and the enormous proose strapped to it. “Absolutely,” he said confidently.
“Really?”
“Sure,” Han replied. “We could take one right now. But taking one without being seen?” Han made an exaggerated show of looking around the barren ice field, flat on all sides with clear vision right up to the ice cliffs where the anglers lived. “That’s not happening.”
Leia nudged him. He knew what she’d meant. Fine. They’d have to use a different tactic. She marched over to Prime Minister Yens, who was yelling at the children.
“Don’t go over in that area!” he called, pointing to a spot that had been marked off with red powder. “That ice is too thin to be safe.”
“Prime Minister,” Leia said, smiling at him warmly. “Thank you so much for arranging this.” Before Yens could respond, Leia continued. “Unfortunately, I’m no good at skim-blading.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Yens said.
“And it’s my honeymoon, as you know. I was hoping to take a sled out, a little romantic moment with my husband…”
Prime Minister Yens looked at her so intently that Leia’s words died on her lips. “Yes,” he said. “A good idea. Out in the open air.”
“Exactly,” Leia said cautiously.
“I’ll drive you myself.”
Leia hid her surprise, but she couldn’t very well deny the prime minister’s offer. So, while the younglings slid and bladed across the ice, she and Han bundled into the back of a sled as Prime Minister Yens himself took the reins.
Yens drove them straight out onto the ice. Once they were far enough out that they could no longer hear the children screeching in joy on the ice, Yens pulled the proose to a stop. The pronged beast stomped on the ice, the sound echoing.
When Yens spoke, his voice was soft, but in the cold, clear air, Leia and Han could easily hear him. “Do you know why we had to build the docks for shuttles so far away from the palaces?”
Leia glanced at Han, who shrugged. “To create a dramatic entrance?” she asked, thinking of the ice-zippers and the sleds and the awe she’d held when she first saw them.
“The environment is delicate on a water world,” Yens said as if Leia hadn’t spoken. “Despite being frozen, this world is made of water, make no mistake. Beneath the ice, pollution spreads quickly. Debris falls on the ice, we can pick it up and take care of it. But waste that seeps into the water becomes diluted, poisoning everything a fraction at a time.”
Leia frowned. It was hard to imagine this pristine world polluted. But she dared not speak and break the prime minister’s thoughts.
“We are a small moon,” Yens continued. “Our only fame is in our art. And when the Empire first reached out to me, I thought, What does the Empire want with art?”
He was silent then for a long while. Han eventually lost patience. “Well?” he demanded. “What did the Empire want with your art?”
Yens turned around and faced them for the first time since they boarded the sled. “Not a damn thing,” he growled. Then he jerked the reins, setting the proose directly toward the black tower.
The Empire had only wanted Madurs’s carnium, Leia knew that. And Yens knew it now as well, too. They sped along the ice, drawing closer to the broken palaces. Leia thought about Nah’hai, and the way she emphasized how all art is temporary, a belief backed up by the ice painting they’d seen yesterday. But this town had sharp cracks, ridges that cut into the sky. The broken edges were not dulled by time or weather; the intricate, lacelike details of the awnings still seemed new.
Yens pulled the sled up before they left the confines of the last building. It was not just shattered castles; there were smaller buildings here, built of more solid materials. “It’s not safe beyond this point,” Yens said flatly. “I’m telling you this not because it’s some ploy to keep you from the area, but because it is a fact. The ice quakes hit stronger in this area, and the ice is thinner. We evacuated the city for a reason.”
Leia leaned forward. “Is the area unstable because of the black tower?” she asked. It loomed on the horizon, closer than she and Han had gotten before.
“Obviously.” Yens turned around in his seat, his back to the tower, but his eyes past Han and Leia, toward the broken, glittering walls of the destruction around them. Even here, there was beauty. Sorrow, too. “A sculptor may use any material,” he said softly, although Leia wasn’t sure the prime minister was talking to them or himself. “We choose to use ice because it is a part of the art. It melts. Everything passes. Nothing lasts forever.”
Han opened his mouth, but Leia pressed her hand down on his leg, silencing him. Prime Minister Yens’s gaze slid to Leia.
“You say the Empire is fallen.” The prime minister’s tone held a question, one Leia was coming to hate.
“It’s as fallen as that space station,” Leia said, pointing to the tower. She still had no idea how the tiny moon had been able to make an Imperial station crash into their surface, although it was clear now that they had sacrificed a city to do it, and the presence of the station was harming their environment. The prime minister hadn’t been subtle in the link between the tower and the thinning ice.
This fallen station was significantly smaller than Calderos, an Imperial-controlled waystation in space near Wobani in the Bryx sector. The Rebellion—before Leia had officially joined it—had destroyed that station, and Leia had witnessed its remains after returning from a diplomatic mission. Perhaps she was wrong to be surprised at this station’s destruction. The entire moon seemed to support Prime Minister Yens’s vision of independence, and with a concentrated effort, it was not impossible to destroy something of the Empire’s. She knew this to be true. And she should appreciate Madurs’s effort, not question it.
But her words did not seem to comfort the prime minister. Rather than believe her assertion that the Empire was truly fallen, he raised his eyebrow, smirking in a defeated way. He glanced at his wrist chrono, then turned back to the proose’s reins. “We have to go,” he said.
“Punctual,” Han muttered as if that were the worst possible insult he could toss at someone.
They had barely begun their sled ride, and Yens was already attempting to make them leave. But before they’d reached the skim-blading arena, the proose let out a keening bellow. A moment later, the air echoed with the violent cracking sound of ice, a sharp pinging noise echoed by a dull snap.
Leia had time for just one thought—The ice quakes are happening on a schedule—they’re not natural, that’s why Yens checked his chrono—and then the proose, panicked, leapt up, jerking the sled so violently that Leia crashed into Han’s side, and they both tumbled toward the edge of the open sled. Han wrapped his arms protectively around Leia, but his legs swung out of the tilting sled, his boots skimming the ice. If they crashed now, there was every chance they’d both be crushed under the weight of the sled.
The ice cracked again, violently shoving one side up by almost a meter. Fortunately, it bumped Han back into the sled as it teetered toward the other side. Prime Minister Yens was shouting at the proose—sounds that Leia couldn’t identify as words, perhaps just calls the proose recognized—but whatever it was, it didn’t make a difference to the animal, who careened forward.
They were nearing the skim-blading area—heading straight for it, right at the children zipping along in their skim-blades. Leia’s heart seized in fear—the enormous animal would surely plow down anyone in their path, youngling or not—but then flashes of red cut through the sky. Leia and Han clutched each other, and when the sled came to an abrupt stop, they both crashed to the floor.
Shakily, Leia stood and saw that several of the local proose drivers on the ground had cast disruptor rays at the sled, causing the proose to fall to its knees. As soon as it was down, they rushed the animal, throwing lines over its bent neck and back, securing it to the ice, while a pair of other drivers ran close to its head, gently soothing it with calming words, wiping away the froth at the animal’s mouth.
“Is it okay?” Leia asked, standing up and peering over the edge of the sled toward the proose. Its chest heaved, and foam glistened on its fur, but its large floppy ears were drooping, and its head was lying on the ice, as if it were almost asleep now.
“I was going to ask the same of you,” Prime Minister Yens said. His cheeks were flushed, eyes wide. The rampaging animal had scared him, Leia could tell, and although it was clear that the locals had known how to deal with a panicked proose, it was just as evident that this had been a dangerous situation for everyone.
“We’re fine,” Leia said, checking on Han, who nodded sharply.
Prime Minister Yens’s shoulders sank in relief. “It’s always dangerous to get close to the Empire,” he said, just loud enough for them to hear.
CHAPTER 39
HAN
IF THEY WANTED TO KNOW what was going on, they were simply going to have to figure it out on their own.
Han shot Leia a look as the children started to reluctantly take off their skim-blades to head back to the palace. Leia nodded, understanding what he meant without words. But then she shrugged, as if to say: But how are we going to get away from the group?
That was the problem, of course. Put Leia on a battlefield, and she shot her blaster without question. Put her in a diplomatic situation, though, and she deferred to politics and politeness.
The setting didn’t matter to Han. Everywhere was a battlefield, even if it was dressed up differently.
Not that he could shoot Yens to get his way. No, he’d considered that option and knew it would be more trouble than it was worth.
“Hey,” he said when Yens walked past him, carrying a pair of skim-blades for a tiny youngling. When the prime minister paused, Han continued. “My wife and I are going back to the shuttle.” He jerked his thumb toward it.
The other man’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
No reason to lie. “Gotta get something from inside.”
“What?” Yens asked.
“Does it matter?” Han shot back, trying to inject some authority into his voice. If Yens refused this request, then they were prisoners, not tourists, on this world. Leia might consider Han’s approach rude, but rudeness was just a weapon on this battlefield.
“I don’t suppose so,” the prime minister said, but he may as well have said: I don’t suppose I can stop you.
Good. They were finally getting somewhere.
“But I cannot give you a sled,” Yens said. “The proose we used before is in no condition to carry passengers now.”
Handlers had gotten that proose up again and attached leads to its harness. They had begun walking back to the ice palace, the handlers practically running to keep up with the proose’s long-legged ambulatory stride. With that sled down, Prime Minister Yens had probably expected to double up a few sleds to get everyone back to the palace for lunch.
“We can walk,” Han said. It wasn’t that far. They had thermal disks for warmth, and unlike Hoth, this planet had clear skies and no real risk of a blizzard to cause them harm. Even if foul weather did arrive, the ice fields were flat, with easy targets to get to—the ice palace was huge and plainly visible. “Unless,” Han added, “you think another ice quake will arrive sometime soon.” He made a show of looking at the prime minister’s wrist chrono. “But I don’t think one is due for several more hours, do you?”
He was tipping his hand here, showing that he knew the ice quakes happened on a schedule rather than randomly, but Prime Minister Yens’s face remained blank. “No, I don’t suppose so,” he said. Without another word, the prime minister turned and headed to the cart carrying the skim-blades.
Well, that was pretty much permission, wasn’t it? Not that Han needed permission, but at least this meant they shouldn’t be hassled as they walked away. Leia smirked at him as he held his arm out pretentiously for her to hold, as if they were stepping into a ballroom.
“Where are you going?” one of the guests from the Halcyon demanded as they strolled by.
“Romantic afternoon stroll,” Han said in a superior tone.
“On the ice?” the woman asked incredulously.
“Where else?” Han said, and he led Leia out onto the barren ice field.
* * *
—
Getting inside the spaceport was easy enough; there was no security. But the shuttle itself was locked. Han had vaguely hoped that since the shuttle belonged to Madurs and since there was so little travel on the remote moon, it would be easily accessible, but no such luck. Han tugged a second time on the release bar, just in case, but the hatch didn’t budge.
“Don’t tell me a locked door is going to stop you,” Leia said.
“How much of a thief do you think I am?” Han said, fiddling with the scanner lock frame under the release bar. “You expect me to know how to break into any ship I come across? I happened to run respectable jobs before Luke got me all tangled up with your Rebellion.”
“I just meant—” Leia said, her eyes widening a little in surprise at his response.
“I may be a scoundrel, but I’m not some common criminal.” Han’s voice was wounded as he turned away from Leia, facing the shuttle.
“I’m sorry,” Leia said, gentling her voice. “I only meant that—”
“There.” Han pocketed the code breaker he carried on his belt as the locking mechanism in the hatch popped open and the door swung open. Leia gaped at him, and Han gave her his most roguish grin.
“You!” Leia snarled at him, but she was laughing.
Inwardly, Han breathed a sigh of relief that the ploy had worked. The code breaker wouldn’t break anything with higher security, but Madurs had put only a basic lock on the hatch, probably to keep out curious passersby. Not that there were many people meandering around the ice fields. Still, the locking code had been simple enough, thankfully.
Once inside, Han went straight to the crates by the door, Leia at his heels. It was the observation deck in the fishing station that had given him the idea. Being underwater truly wasn’t that different from being in space; Mon Cala even had a shipyard where they constructed ships underwater, pumping the liquid out only when the ship was ready for flight, and Mon Calamari ships were among the best.
Inside the first crate were emergency evacuation flare shells, but the second contained spare breathers and vests with thermal disks attached, emergency supplies needed in the event of an untimely departure from the shuttle while in space. Unlike the thermal disks they wore for comfort on the icy moon, these heavy-duty units were designed for use in space and could withstand changes in pressure. And were, hopefully, waterproof.
“Here,” Han said.
Leia plucked a breather from the top. Combined with the vest, it would allow an oxygen-breathing being to survive in the void of space, providing heat, air, and minor protection. “This is the big plan?” Leia asked tentatively.
“The water is cold on this world, but not colder than space,” Han said, taking off his trademark vest and swapping it for the one dotted with thermal disks before fitting a breather over his nose. “All we need is warmth and air, and this has us covered.”
Han felt his lip curling into a salacious smirk.
“What?” Leia demanded.
“It’s just…if we’re going underwater to inspect the remains of that Imperial station…”
“We can’t just walk up to the front door and knock,” Leia said, exasperated. “We have to inspect it, obviously. Something’s causing the quakes. It’s got to be some form of blasting ray, or…” She caught Han’s look again. “What?”
“Oh, no, it’s just, I absolutely agree we should go underwater to investigate,” he said. “But…” He gestured to all of her. “Those clothes may get in the way.” Leia had worn a fur-lined suit for the day’s activities, dressed up with her white gwendle cloak.
Leia stared at him flatly. “Are you expecting me to skinny-dip?”
“The thermal disks would keep you warm, and—” He stopped talking when Leia threw her white gwendle cloak at his face. She didn’t strip down entirely, but the bodysuit that remained would both enable her to easily swim and also…Well. Han didn’t mind it one bit.
“And you?” Leia asked, hand on her hip.
“Not all of us bring multiple outfit changes with us.”
“I suppose if they get wet, your clothes are halfway to being washed for once,” Leia grumbled.
“My clothes are clean!” Han protested.
“At least you wore something nice for our wedding,” Leia muttered.
