Star Wars - The Courtship Of Princess Leia (by Dave Wolverton)

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Star Wars - The Courtship of Princess Leia by Dave Wolverton
The Courtship of Princess
Leia
by
Dave Wolverton
Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10
Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19
Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27
Chapter 1
General Han Solo stood at the command console viewport of the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser Mon
Remonda . Warning sounds tinkled like wind chimes as the ship prepared to drop out of hyperspace at
the New Republic's capital on Coruscant. It had been so long since Han had last seen Leia five months,
five months hunting the warlord Zsinj's Super Star Destroyer, Iron Fist . Five months ago, the New
Republic had seemed so secure, so in control. Maybe now, with the Iron Fist gone, warlord Zsinj would
be crippled and things would go smoother. Han longed to get off the humid Calamarian ship, longed even
more for the taste of Leia's kisses, the caress of her hand on his brow. He'd seen too much darkness
lately.
The white starfield on the screen resolved as the hyperdrive engines cut, and Chewbacca roared in alarm
across the blue velvet of space where the city night lights of Coruscant blazed from a dark world were
dozens of enormous, saucer-shaped starships that Han recognized immediately as Hapan Battle Dragons.
Among them were dozens of slate gray Imperial Star Destroyers.
"Get us out of here!" Han shouted. He'd seen a Hapan Battle Dragon only once before, but it had been
enough. "Full shields! Evasive action!"
He watched the three dorsal ion guns of the nearest Dragon, expecting them to knock him from the sky.
The blaster turrets on the saucer's rim all swiveled toward him.
The Mon Remonda twisted and dove planetward, toward the lights of Coruscant. Han's stomach
wrenched. His Mon Calamari pilot was well schooled, and knowing that they could not run before setting
a new course, he surged into the thick of the Hapan warships so that they could not fire without the risk
of hitting one another.
Like all the technology on the Mon Calamari ship, the viewport was exceptional, a work of art, so that as
they hurtled past the command port of a Hapan Battle Dragon, Han could make out the startled faces of
three Hapan officers, the silver name tags sewn into their collars. Han had never seen a Hapan. Their star
sector was renowned for its wealth, and the Hapans guarded their borders jealously. He'd known that
they were humanfor humans had scattered like weeds across the galaxybut he was surprised to discover
that without exception, all three of the female officers were astonishingly beautifullike fragile, living
ornaments.
"Cease evasive action!" shouted Captain Onoma, a salmon-colored Calamarian officer who sat at a
control console, monitoring sensors.
"What?" Han shouted, surprised that the lower-ranked Calamarian would reverse his orders.
"The Hapans are not firing, and they are broadcasting as friendlies," Onoma answered, swiveling a large
golden eye at Han. The Calamarian cruiser ceased its crazy headlong dive and slowed.
"Friendlies?" Han asked. "They're Hapans! Hapans are never friendly!"
"Nevertheless, they've apparently come to negotiate a treaty of some sort with the New Republic. The
accompanying Star Destroyers are theirs, captured from the Imperials. As you can see, our planetary
defense forces are still intact." Captain Onoma nodded up toward a Star Destroyer in another quadrant,
and Han recognized its markings. Leia's flagship, the Rebel Dream . It had seemed so huge, so vast when
they'd captured it from the Imperials, but here beside this Hapan fleet, it looked small, insignificant.
Huddled around the Rebel Dream , he saw a dozen smaller Republic Dreadnaughts, their hulls still
painted with the markings of the old Rebel Alliance.
The first time Han had seen a Hapan warship, he had been smuggling guns with a small convoy fleet
under the command of Captain Rula. Since the Hapans hadn't yet fallen to the Empire, the smugglers had
been using an outpost in neutral territory near the borders of the Hapan star cluster, hoping that their
proximity to the Hapans would keep the Empire off their back. But one day they came out of hyperspace
and found a Hapan Battle Dragon hovering in their path. Even though they were in neutral territory, even
though they made no aggressive moves, only three of the twenty smuggler ships managed to survive the
Hapan attack.
A communications officer said, "General Solo, we're receiving a call from Ambassador Leia Organa."
"I'll go to my quarters and pick it up there," Han said, and he hurried to punch up the call. Leia's image
appeared on the small screen.
Leia was smiling, euphoric, and her dark eyes had a dreamy look to them. "Oh, Han," she said in a
breath, her voice mellifluous. "I'm so glad you're here." She wore the pure white uniform of an
Alderaanian ambassador, and her hair was down. In the past months it had grown longer than Han had
ever seen it. In her hair she wore the combs he had given her, made from silver and opal mined on
Alderaan before Grand Moff Tarkin blasted the planet to cinders with the first Death Star.
"I missed you, too," Han said huskily.
"Come down to Coruscant, to the Grand Reception Hall," Leia said. "The Hapan ambassadors are about
to arrive."
"What do they want?"
"It's not what they want, it's what they're offering. I went to Hapes and spoke with the queen mother
three months ago," Leia said. "I asked her for aid in our fight against Warlord Zsinj. She seemed very
distant, noncommittal, but promised to think about it. I can only guess they've come to give that aid."
Lately, Han had begun to realize that the war against the remnants of the Empire might take years, even
decades to win. Zsinj and some lesser warlords were firmly entrenched in over a third of the galaxy, but
the warlords now seemed to be on the movepillaging entire star systems as they swept toward the free
worlds. The New Republic could not patrol such a vast front. Just as the old Empire had struggled to
repel the Rebel Alliance, the New Republic battled the might of the warlords and their vast fleets. Han
didn't want Leia to get her hopes raised for a Hapan alliance. He said, "Don't expect too much from the
Hapans. I've never heard of them giving anyone anythingexcept a hard time."
"You don't even know them. Just come to the Grand Reception Hall," Leia said, suddenly all business.
"Oh, and welcome back." She turned away. The transmission ended.
"Yeah," Han whispered. "I missed you, too."
Han and Chewbacca hurried through the streets toward the Grand Reception Hall on Coruscant. They
were in an ancient part of Coruscant where the planetwide city had not built over the top of ruins, so that
all around them plasteel buildings rose up like the walls of a canyon. The shadows thrown by the steep
buildings were so deep that overhead the shuttles streaming through the spaces between buildings were
forced to keep their running lights on even in the daytime, creating a massive tapestry of light. By the time
Han and Chewie reached the Grand Reception Hall, the processional band was already playing an oddly
mincing marching song, using janglers and deep woot horns.
The Grand Reception Hall was an enormous building, more than a thousand meters long, with fourteen
levels for seating, but as Han neared the entrance, he found that all of the portals were jammed with
curious onlookers, eager to see the Hapans. Han ran past the first five entrances, then suddenly saw a
golden protocol droid nervously trying to jump or stand on tiptoe to see over the crowd. Many people
claimed that all droids of a certain model looked alike, but Han recognized See-Threepio instantlyno
other protocol unit ever managed to look quite as nervous or excited.
"Threepio, you hunk of tin!" Han shouted to be heard over the crowd. Chewbacca roared in greeting.
"General Solo!" Threepio responded, a note of relief in his voice. "Princess Leia asked that I find you and
escort you to the Alderaanian ambassador's balcony. I was afraid I'd missed you in the crowd! You're
fortunate that I had the foresight to wait for you here. This way, sir, this way!" Threepio led them back
across a broad street and up a side ramp, past several guards.
As they climbed a long winding corridor, passing door after door, Chewbacca sniffed the air and
growled. They rounded the corner and Threepio halted by a balcony entrance. Within, only a few people
stood looking through the glass onto the procession below. Han recognized some of them Carlist
Rieekan, the Alderaanian general who had commanded Hoth base; Threkin Horm, president of the
powerful Alderaanian Council, an immensely fat man who rested in a repulsor chair rather than try to
carry his own weight. And Mon Mothma, commander of the New Republic, stood next to a bearded
gray Gotal, who gazed dispassionately toward the main floor, head tilted, aiming his sensor horns in
Leia's direction.
The diplomats were all speaking softly, listening to com-links and watching Leia, who sat on a dais,
regally gazing on a Hapan diplomatic shuttle that had landed on a pad built within the great open-air hall.
Perhaps five hundred thousand beings had gathered on the main floors, eager to catch a glimpse of the
Hapans. Tens of thousands of security guards had cleared the gold carpet between the shuttle and Leia,
and Han looked up to the balconies. Nearly every star system in the old Empire had had its own balcony
here, and beside each balcony was the nation's standard. Over six hundred thousand of those standards
hung now on the ancient marble walls, showing the membership of the New Republic. Down on the floor,
silence fell as the shuttle dropped its loading ramps.
Han went to Mon Mothma. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why aren't you down on the dais with Leia?"
"I was not invited to meet the Hapan ambassadors," Mon Mothma replied. "They asked only to see Leia.
Since even the Old Republic had very limited contact with Hapan's monarchs over the past three
thousand years, I felt it best to remain aloof until invited."
"That's very considerate," Han said, "but you are the elected leader of the New Republic"
"And Queen Mother Ta'a Chume feels threatened by our democratic ways. No, I think it best that Ta'a
Chume's ambassadors speak through Leia, if she makes them feel more comfortable. Have you counted
the number of Battle Dragons in the Hapan fleet? There are sixty-threeone for each inhabited planet in the
Hapes cluster. Never have the Hapans initiated contact with us on such a grand scale. I suspect that this
is to be the most important contact our peoples have made in the past three millennia."
Han would not say it, but he felt slighted at not being seated by Leia's side. The fact that Mon Mothma
had been similarly treated added to the offense. They waited only a moment before the Hapans began to
disembark.
First from the shuttle came a woman with long dark hair and onyx eyes that glittered in the lights. She
wore a light dress of peach-colored shimmering material that left her long legs exposed. Microphones on
the floor fed into the balcony, and Han could hear a sigh pass through the crowd as the beautiful woman
made her way up the promenade.
She approached Leia and dropped gracefully to one knee, keeping her eyes on Leia. In a strong voice
she spoke in Hapan, "Ellene sellibeth e Ta'a Chume. 'Shakal Leia, ereneseth a'apelle seranel Hapes.
Rennithelle saroon.' " She turned and clapped her hands six times, and dozens of women in shimmering
gold dresses began descending from the shuttle, running quickly and playing silver flutes or drums while
others sang over and over in clear high voices, "Hapes, Hapes, Hapes."
Mon Mothma listened intently to her comlink as a translator broadcast the words in Basic, but Han
couldn't hear the translator.
"Do you speak this stuff?" Han asked Threepio.
"I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, sir," Threepio said regretfully, "but I think I must
be experiencing a malfunction. The Hapan ambassador cannot have said what I heard." He turned and
started to walk off. "Darn these rusty logic circuits! Excuse me while I report for repairs."
"Wait!" Han said. "Forget about the repairs. What did she say?"
"Sir, I think I must have misunderstood," Threepio said.
"Tell me!" Han added more forcefully and Chewbacca growled a warning.
"Well, if you're going to be that way about it!" Threepio affected a hurt tone. "If my sensors monitored
her correctly, the delegate reported the words of the great queen mother 'Worthy Leia, I offer gifts from
the sixty-three worlds of Hapes. Take joy in them.'"
"Gifts?" Han said. "That sounds pretty straightforward to me."
"Indeed it is. The Hapans never ask a favor without offering a gift of equal value first," Threepio said
condescendingly. "No, what troubles me is the use of the word shakal, 'worthy.' The queen mother
would never apply that word to Leia, for the Hapans use it only when speaking to equals."
"Well," Han hazarded a guess, "they are both royalty."
"True," Threepio said, "but the Hapans practically worship their queen mother. Indeed, one of their
names for her is Ereneda, 'she who has no equal.' So you see, it would not be logical for the queen
mother to refer to Leia as her equal."
Han looked back down to the unloading ramp and shivered as a sense of foreboding washed through
him. The sounds of drums thundered. Three women in bright, almost garish silks rushed from the shuttle
bearing a large container the color of mother-of-pearl. Threepio still spoke to himself, shaking his head
and saying "I really must have these logic circuits repaired," as the three women spilled the contents onto
the floor. The whole crowd gasped. "Rainbow gems from Gallinore!"
The gems glittered with their own fire in dozens of shades from brilliant cardinal to blazing emerald.
Indeed, the invaluable gems were not gems at all, but a silicon-based life form that glowed with its own
brilliant inner light. The creatures, often worn on medallions, matured only after thousands of years. One
gem could buy a Calamarian cruiser, yet the Hapans had thrown hundreds of mated pairs to the floor.
Leia showed no surprise.
A second trio of women, far taller than the others, descended from the diplomatic shuttle wearing leathers
in colors of tawny ocher and cinnamon. They danced lightly to the sounds of the flutes and drums, and
between them floated a platform that bore a small, gnarled tree with ruddy brown fruits. Twin lights
floated above it, beaming steadily like the suns of some desert world. The crowd murmured quietly until
the ambassador explained, "Selabah, terrefel n lasarla." ("From Selab, a tree of wisdom, bearing fruits.")
The crowd suddenly shouted and cheered in delight, and Han stood dumbfounded. He had thought the
wisdom trees of Selab to be only a legend. It was said that the fruit of the wisdom trees could greatly
boost the intelligence of those who had passed into old age.
Han's blood pounded in his veins, and he felt lightheaded. A man came forward to the sound of the
music, a cyborg warrior dressed in full Hapan body armor, black with silver trim. He stood nearly as tall
as Chewbacca, and strode purposely, pulled some sort of mechanical device from his arm, and laid it on
the ground before Leia. "Charubah endara, mella n sesseltar." ("From the high-tech world Charubah, we
offer a Gun of Command.")
Han leaned against the glass for support. The Gun of Command had made the Hapan troops nearly
irresistible in small-arms combat, for it released an electromagnetic wave field that virtually neutralized an
enemy's voluntary thought processes. Those shot with the Gun of Command stood helpless as invalids,
unaware of their surroundings, and tended to follow any orders given them, for they could not distinguish
the command of an enemy from their own voluntary thoughts. Han began sweating. Their every world,
each planet in the Hapes system, is offering its greatest treasures, Han realized. What could they hope to
gain? What could they want in return?
He watched over the next hour. The music of the drums and flutes and the high, clear calls of the women
singing "Hapes, Hapes, Hapes," over and over again seemed to pound through his veins, through his
temples. Twelve of the poorer worlds each gave Leia Star Destroyers captured from the Empire, while
others brought things that held more esoteric value. From Arabanth came an old woman who spoke only
a few words on the importance of embracing life while accepting death, offering a "thought puzzle" that
her people held to be of great value. Ut sent a woman who sang a song so beautiful that the sound
seemed to carry Han away to her world on a warm breeze.
At one point, Han heard Mon Mothma whisper, "I knew Leia had asked for money to help fight the
warlords, but I never imagined . . ."
And finally, the singers stopped singing and the drums stopped beating and a portion of the wealth of the
hidden worlds of Hapes lay scattered on the floor of the Grand Reception Hall. Han found that his
breathing came ragged from his lungs, for he kept unconsciously holding his breath as the gifts were
offered.
The silence on the floor of the hall seemed heavy, ominous. More than two hundred ambassadors from
the worlds of Hapes stood on the promenade, and Han marveled at them, for once again he was
impressed by their grace, by their beauty, by their strength. Until today, he had never seen a Hapan.
Now he would never forget them.
No one spoke as the Hapans held their silence. Han waited to hear what they would ask in return. His
blood thrilled, for he realized they could only want one thing a pact with the Republic. The Hapans would
ask the Republic to join an all-out war against the combined might of warlords who served as the last
remnants of the Empire.
Leia leaned forward from her throne, looked over the gifts approvingly. "You said that you had gifts from
all sixty-three of your worlds," Leia told the ambassador, "but I see here gifts from only sixty-two. You
have offered me nothing from Hapes itself."
Han was shocked by the remark. He had lost count of the gifts long ago, stunned by the wealth the
Hapans offered, and now Leia's comments seemed churlish, greedy. He expected the Hapans to scoff at
her bad manners, take everything, and leave.
Instead, the Hapan ambassador smiled warmly, as if pleased that Leia had noticed, and looked up and
held Leia's eyes. She spoke, and Threepio translated, "That is because we have saved our greatest gift
for last."
She motioned with her hand, and all the Hapan ambassadors stepped aside, clearing the aisle. Without
fanfare, without the music of horns, only in silence did they bring their last gift.
Two women, modestly dressed in black with silver ringlets in their dark hair, came from the ship. A man
walked between them. He wore a silver circlet that held a black veil in front of his face, and his long,
blond hair fell down around his shoulders. The man was bare-chested except for a small silk half-cloak
fastened with silver clasps, and in his muscular arms he carried a large, ornate box of ebony inlaid with
silver.
He brought the box and set it on the floor. He sat on his haunches, hands resting lightly on his knees, and
the women pulled back his black veil. Beneath it was the most incredibly handsome man that Han had
ever seen. His deep-set eyes were a dark blue-gray, like the color of the sea on the horizon, and
promised wit, humor, wisdom; his powerful shoulders and firm jawline were strong. Han realized that this
must be some high dignitary from the royal house of Hapes itself. The ambassador spoke, "Hapesah,
rurahsen Ta'a Chume, elesa Isolder Chume'da." ("From Hapes, the queen mother offers her greatest
treasure, her son Isolder, the Chume'da, whose wife shall reign as queen.")
Chewbacca growled and in the crowd below everyone seemed to talk at once, an uproar that swelled in
Han's ears like the sound of a storm.
Mon Mothma pulled off her headset and gazed at Leia thoughtfully, one of the generals in the room
swore and grinned, and Han stepped away from the window. "What?" Han asked. "What does that
mean?"
"Ta'a Chume wants Leia to marry her son," Mon Mothma answered softly.
"But, she won't do it, will she?" Han said, and then his certainty faltered. Sixty-three of the wealthiest
planets in the galaxy. To rule as matriarch over billions of people, with that man beside her. . . .
Mon Mothma looked up into Han's eyes, as if gauging him. "With the wealth of Hapes to help fund the
war, Leia could overthrow the last remnants of the Empire quickly, saving billions of lives in the process.
I know how you have felt about her in the past, General Solo. Still, I think I speak for everyone in the
New Republic when I say that, for all our sakes, I hope she accepts the offer."
Chapter 2
Luke could sense the ruins of the ancient Jedi Master's home before his Whiphid guide brought him to
the place. Like the landscape of Toola itselfa barren plain where the short purple lichens thrust up from
patches of thin winter icethe ruins felt clean and refreshing, yet empty, almost as if they had never been
visited by humans. The clean feeling assured Luke that the ruins had once been inhabited by a good Jedi.
The huge Whiphid, its ivory fur ruffling under the spring winds, trudged over the purple moss, a vibro-ax
fitted in its paw. It stopped and raised its long snout in the air so that its massive tusks pointed up at a
distant purple sun, then gave a trumpeting whistle, glaring ahead with small black eyes.
Luke pulled back the hood of his snowsuit and glimpsed the danger on the horizon. A flock of snow
demons was dropping from the shelter of storm clouds, hairy wings flashing gray in the slanting sunlight.
The Whiphid whistled a battle cry, afraid they would attack, but Luke reached out with his mind and felt
the snow demons' hunger. They were hunting a herd of shaggy motmots that moved like icy hills on the
horizon, seeking a calf small enough to slaughter.
"Peace," Luke said, reaching up to touch the Whiphid's elbow. "Show me the ruins." Luke tried to use
the Force to calm the warrior. But the Whiphid quivered, clenching its vibro-ax, eager for battle.
The Whiphid whistled a long reply, pointing north, and Luke translated by power of the Force "Search
the Jedi's tomb if you must, little one, but I go to hunt. Having sighted an enemy, honor demands that I
attack. My clan will feast on a snow demon tonight." The Whiphid wore a weapon belt as its only article
of clothing, and from the array hanging there, it pulled free a blackened iron morning star. With a weapon
in each huge fist, it charged over the tundra faster than Luke would have believed possible.
Luke shook his head, pitying the snow demons. Artoo whistled from behind, asking Luke to slow his
pace as the little droid negotiated a treacherous patch of ice. Together, Luke and Artoo traveled north
until they reached three huge flat rocks that rose from the ground to form the roof and sides of a tunnel.
The tunnel smelled dry, and Luke pulled a minilantern from his utility belt and made his way down. A
short distance from the surface, the tunnel had been caved in. A huge boulder blocked the path. Black
soot on the boulder showed where a thermal detonator had blown the stone free in ages past, closing off
whatever lay beyond.
Luke closed his eyes and reached out with his mind until the Force channeled through him. He shifted the
rock, lifted it free, and held it. "Go ahead, Artoo," Luke whispered, and the droid rolled forward,
whistling in dismay as it passed beneath the floating rock. Luke ducked under the hovering boulder, then
let it settle behind him.
On the dirt floor immediately behind the rock, Luke found the boot prints of Imperial stormtroopers, still
preserved after all these years. Luke studied the prints, wondering if any would have belonged to his
father. Darth Vader probably would have had to come. Only he could have killed the Jedi Master who
had lived in these caverns. But the footprints told him nothing.
The tunnels wound down through storage rooms carved deep beneath the ground. The air carried the
stale scent of rodent dung and fur. A small, square power droid lay dead in one hallway, long since
drained of energy. A thermal heater filled another room, its power cables chewed away by small animals.
Luke followed the tunnels toward the clean feeling of the Jedi, and finally found the dead Master's room.
The body was gone, dissipated as Yoda's and Ben's had, but Luke could feel the residue of the Master's
force, and he discovered a snowsuit, slashed and burned, with a lightsaber nearby. Luke picked up the
lightsaber, flipped it on. A stream of opalescent energy shot out as the lightsaber hummed to life.
Luke wondered momentarily about the man who had owned the lightsaber, then flipped it off. He knew
little except that the Jedi Master had served the Old Republic in its final hours. For months now, Luke
had followed the man's trail. As curator of records for the Jedi at Coruscant, the man had seemed only a
minor functionary, hardly worthy of notice by the invading Imperials. Yet he had fled Coruscant with the
records of a thousand generations of Jedi.
Such records, Luke hoped, would be more than a mere catalog of the Jedis' deeds. Instead, they might
contain the wisdom of the ancient masters, their thoughts, their aspirations. As a young Jedi who had not
been thoroughly educated in the ways of the Force, Luke hoped to learn the deeper mysteries of how the
Jedi had trained their warriors, their healers, their seers.
Luke cast about the room, looking in the feeble light of his minilantern for anything that might provide a
clue. Artoo had gone down a side passage, guiding himself through the dark using his headlamps. From
the passage Luke heard a mournful whistle and followed.
It was a hallway that led to blackened rooms carved in the stone where cell after cell of holographic
video recordings had been stored. But the recordings were blasted and burned to cinders. Computer
cylinders lay in piles of molten slag, their memory cores fried. Thermal detonators had melted the things,
but Luke also found chunks from EMP grenades. Whoever had destroyed the holo vids had done his or
her best to erase them first.
Luke paced the tunnel, passing dozens upon dozens of cells, gazing into each cell in turn, and his heart
went from him. Nothing was left. All of it gone. The knowledge and deeds of a thousand generations of
Jedi.
"It's no use, Artoo," Luke said, and his words seemed to be swallowed by the darkness, the silence of
the empty tunnels. Artoo whistled sadly, rolled on down the corridor, lifting up on his wheels to peek
over the lip of each cell.
Gone. All of it gone, Luke realized. The Emperor had not been content to hunt down and murder the
Jedi. He had felt the need, in his bid to gain absolute control of the galaxy, not only to extinguish their fire
from the universe but to crush their embers, scatter their ashes, so that the Jedi would never rise again.
So that after months of searching, Luke found only ashes.
Luke sat on the floor, put a hand over his eyes, wondering what his next move should be. Certainly there
had been other records, other copies. He would need to go back to Coruscant and begin the search
there.
From down the hall, near the end of the tunnel, Artoo began to whistle excitedly. "Found something?"
Luke asked, and he got up, dusted cinders from his clothing, forced himself to walk slowly. Artoo had
found a cell where the records were not melted. A thermal detonator still lay atop them, an obvious dud.
The EMP grenade had fragmented, but Luke wondered how effective it had been. He took a computer
cylinder from the top, plugged it into Artoo. The droid whistled and bent forward, preparing to display
the hologram, but after a moment ejected the cube with a grinding wheeze.
"Come on," Luke whispered hopefully. Reaching near the bottom of the pile, Luke freed a second
cylinder, popped it into the droid, and Artoo flashed the image of a man dressed in flowing, pale green
robes. Yet static so interfered that the holo image soon broke up. Artoo spat out the cylinder, and light
from his headlamp shone once again into the cell, urging Luke to try again.
"Okay," Luke sighed, and he searched for a cylinder farthest from the EMP grenade. He dug through the
pile, found one in a far corner on the floor, and was about to pull it free when he felt the Force tug him in
another direction. He fumbled among the cylinders, until his fingers brushed one. Very distinctly, he felt a
sense of peace. This one, this one, a voice seemed to whisper. This is what you seek.
Luke grasped it, pulled it free, and stepped away. Somehow, he knew that to search the caverns further
would be useless. If any answers were to be found here, they were in his hand.
He popped the cylinder into Artoo, and almost immediately Artoo caught a signal. Images flashed in the
air before the droid an ancient throne room where, one by one, Jedi came before their high master to give
reports. Yet the holo was fragmented, so thoroughly erased that Luke got only bits and piecesa
blue-skinned man describing details of a grueling space battle against pirateers; a yellow-eyed Twi'lek
with lashing headtails who told of discovering a plot to kill an ambassador. A date and time flashed on the
holo vid before each report. The report was nearly four hundred standard years old.
Then Yoda appeared on the video, gazing up at the throne. His color was more vibrantly green than
Luke remembered, and he did not use his walking stick. At middle age, Yoda had looked almost perky,
carefreenot the bent, troubled old Jedi Luke had known. Most of the audio was erased, but through the
background hiss Yoda clearly said, "We tried to free the Chu'unthor from Dathomir, but were repulsed
by the witches . . . skirmish, with Masters Gra'aton and Vulatan. . . . Fourteen acolytes killed . . . go
back to retrieve . . ." The audio hissed away, and soon the holo image dissolved to blue static with
popping lights.
Other people gave reports, but none of their words seemed to offer hope. Again and again, Luke
reflected on the words Chu'unthor from Dathomir . Was the Chu'unthor a single person, perhaps a
political leader, or could it have been a whole race of beings? And Dathomirwhere was it?
"Artoo," Luke said. "Run through your astrogation files and tell me if you find any reference to a place
named Dathomir. It could be a star system, a single planet . . ." Maybe even a person, he thought with
dismay.
Artoo took a moment, then whistled a negative. "I thought not," Luke said. "I've never heard of it, either."
During the Clone Wars, so many planets had been destroyed, made uninhabitable. Perhaps Dathomir
was one of those, a world so ravaged that it had been forgotten. Or perhaps it was a small place, a moon
on some planet on the Outer Rim, so far from civilization that it had merely been lost from the records.
Maybe even less than a moona continent, an island, a city? Whatever the case, Luke felt certain that he
would find it, sometime, somewhere.
They went up topside, found that night had fallen while they worked underground. Their Whiphid guide
soon returned, dragging the body of a gutted snow demon. The demon's white talons curled in the air,
and its long purple tongue snaked out from between its massive fangs. Luke was amazed that the
Whiphid could haul such a monster, yet the Whiphid held the demon's long hairy tail in one hand and
managed to pull it back to camp.
There, Luke stayed the night with the Whiphids in a huge shelter made from the rib cage of a motmot,
covered over with hides to keep out the wind. The Whiphids built a bonfire and roasted the snow
demon, and the young danced while the elders played their claw harps. As Luke sat, watching the
writhing flames and listening to the twang of harps, he meditated. "The future you will see, and the past.
Old friends long forgotten . . ." Those were the words Yoda had said long ago while training Luke to
peer beyond the mists of time.
Luke looked up at the rib bones of the motmot. The Whiphids had carved stick letters into the bone, ten
and twelve meters in the air, giving the lineage of their ancestors. Luke could not read the letters, but they
seemed to dance in the firelight, as if they were sticks and stones falling from the sky. The rib bones
curved toward him, and Luke followed the curve of bones with his eyes. The tumbling sticks and
boulders seemed to gyrate, all of them falling toward him as if they would crush him. He could see
boulders hurtling through the air, too, smashing toward him. Luke's nostrils flared, and even Toola's chill
could not keep a thin film of perspiration from dotting his forehead. A vision came to Luke then.
Luke stood in a mountain fortress of stone, looking over a plain with a sea of dark forested hills beyond,
and a storm rosea magnificent wind that brought with it towering walls of black clouds and dust, trees
hurtling toward him and twisting through the sky. The clouds thundered overhead, filled with purple
flames, obliterating all sunlight, and Luke could feel a malevolence hidden in those clouds and knew that
they had been raised through the power of the dark side of the Force.
Dust and stones whistled through the air like autumn leaves. Luke tried to hold on to the stone parapet
overlooking the plain to keep from being swept from the fortress walls. Winds pounded in his ears like
the roar of an ocean, howling.
It was as if a storm of pure dark Force raged over the countryside, and suddenly, amid the towering
clouds of darkness that thundered toward him, Luke could hear laughing, the sweet sound of women
laughing. He looked above into the dark clouds, and saw the women borne through the air along with the
rocks and debris, like motes of dust, laughing. A voice seemed to whisper, "the witches of Dathomir."
Chapter 3
Leia unplugged the comlink from her ear and gazed at the Hapan ambassador in shock. Hapans were
hard to deal withso culturally distant, easily offended. The roar of the hundreds of thousands in the crowd
began to swell, and Leia looked up to the windows of the Alderaanian balcony, wondering what to
answer. Han had turned away and was speaking excitedly to Mon Mothma.
Above the uproar, Leia said to the ambassador, "Tell Ta'a Chume that her gifts are exquisite, her
generosity unbounded. Still, I need time to consider the offer." She paused, wondering how long she
could legitimately take. The Hapans were a decisive people. Ta'a Chume had a reputation for making
decisions of monumental importance in the space of hours. Could Leia take a day? She felt dizzy, almost
giddy.
"Please, may I speak?" Prince Isolder asked in accented Basic, and Leia halted, surprised that Isolder
could speak her language at all. She looked into his gray eyes, remembering the warm thunderheads over
the tropical mountains of Hapes.
Isolder smiled apologetically. There was a certain strength to his face, a ranginess. "I know your customs
differ from ours. Among the ancients, this is how we arranged our royal marriages. But I want you to feel
comfortable with any decision. Please, take time to get to know Hapes, our worlds, our customstake
time to know me."
Something in the way he spoke made Leia realize that this was an unusual offer. "Thirty days?" she
asked. "I would take less time, but I must leave for the Roche system in a couple of days. A diplomatic
mission."
Prince Isolder lowered his eyes in acceptance. "Of course. A queen must forever be at the call of her
people." Then he added apologetically, "If you are leaving on a diplomatic mission, will I have time to
meet with you previous to it, under less formal circumstances?"
Leia considered furiously. She had a great deal of studying to do before she lefttrade agreements,
registered complaints, studies in exobiology. The Verpines, an insect race, had apparently broken dozens
of contracts to build warships for the carnivorous Barabels, and it was very unhealthy to break a contract
with a Barabel. Meanwhile, the Verpines claimed the ships had been taken by one of their mad hive
mothers and felt no obligation to force the hive mother to return the merchandise. The whole affair was
complicated by substantiated rumors that the Barabels had begun negotiating to sell Verpine body parts
to chefs among the insect-loving Kubazis. Leia simply felt that she had no business letting her personal life
interfere with her work, at least not now.
Leia glanced up at the observation deck. Han had left with Chewbacca, and now Mon Mothma stood,
holding the comlink to her ear. Mon Mothma did not move, but beside her sat Threkin Horm, president
of the Alderaanian Council. Threkin nodded the affirmative, urging Leia on.
"Yes, of course," Leia said. "If you are free to join me before the mission."
"My days and nights are yours," the prince said, smiling gently.
"Then please," Leia asked, "join me for dinner tonight, in my stateroom aboard the Rebel Dream ?"
Isolder lowered his eyes again, used the thumbs and index fingers of both hands to pull the black veil
over his face. Leia had marveled at the beauty of the Hapans during her visit, but now felt a twinge of
regret that Isolder hid his face, felt guilty for wanting to gaze at him longer.
Leia left the Grand Reception Hall, thousands watching her departure. Leia felt anxious, and only wanted
to find Han. She went to her quarters at the embassy, hoping Han would be there, but the apartments
were empty. Perplexed, she used her comlink on the military frequency, found he had left Coruscant on
his way to the Rebel Dream . That was a bad sign. The Millennium Falcon had been docked aboard the
Rebel Dream , awaiting Han's return. When Han felt worried or frustrated, he liked to work on the
Falcon . Working with his hands, solving familiar problems, seemed to ease his mind. So he had run to
his ship, to work. This proposal must have disturbed him deeply, probably more deeply than even Han
knew. Leia was bone weary, but she could see why Han would be in a bad mood. She summoned her
personal shuttle.
She found the Falcon at docking bay ninety. Han and Chewie were in the main cabin at the control
panels, worrying over the tangled mass of wires that connected to various projectile and energy shields.
Chewie looked up and roared in greeting, but Han sat holding a plasma torch, facing away. He switched
off the torch, but did not shift in the captain's chair to look at her.
"Hi," Leia said softly. "I was hoping to find you back in my room on Coruscant."
"Yeah, well, there were some things I needed to check into," Han said. Leia didn't answer for a long
moment. Chewbacca got up and hugged Leia, pressing the fur of his tawny belly into her face, then went
down below, leaving them alone. Han turned to face her. His forehead was sweaty, though she knew he
couldn't have been working long enough to perspire. "So, uh, how did it go down there? What did you
tell the Hapans?"
"I asked them to give me a few days to think," Leia answered. She didn't feel ready to tell him that
Isolder would be visiting aboard the Rebel Dream that night.
"Hmmm. . . ." Han nodded.
Leia took his grimy hands in hers. She said softly, "I couldn't just send them awayit would be rude. Even
if I don't want to marry their prince, I can't destroy our chance to build a relationship with them. The
Hapans are very powerful. The whole reason I went to Hapes was to see if they would aid in our fight
against the warlords."
"I know," Han sighed. "You would do just about anything to win against them."
"Now what is that supposed to mean?"
"You hated the Empire, but now Zsinj and the warlords are all that is left of it. You've risked your life
fighting them a dozen times. You would give your life for the New Republic in a moment, wouldn't
youwithout thinking, without regrets?"
"Of course," Leia answered. "But"
"Then I suspect you'll give your life now," Han said, "give it to the Hapans. But instead of dying for them,
you'll live for them."
"I, I couldn't do that," Leia assured him.
Han stared at her, breathing hard, and all the pain and accusation went out of his voice. "Of course not,"
Han sighed, setting the torch down on the floorboard. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just . . ."
Leia stroked his forehead. After five months away from him, she felt a little clumsy. Normally, she
imagined, he would take something like the Hapan proposal as a joke, but he was quiet. Something more
was going on. Something was hurting him very deeply. "What's wrong? You aren't acting like yourself."
"I don't know," Han whispered. "It's justthis last mission. Coming back to this. I'm so tired. You saw
what the Iron Fist did on Selaggis. It turned the whole colony into rubble. I kept following it for months,
and everywhere we went it was the same star stations obliterated, shipyards ruined. Just one Super Star
Destroyer with a murderer at the helm.
"Back when the Emperor died, I thought we'd won. But I keep finding that we're fighting something so
huge, so monstrous. Every time we blink, another Grand Moff announces another lofty unification
scheme, or some ragtag sector general rears his or her ugly head. I have dreams at night that I'm fighting
this beast in the fog, this huge beast that's roaring and devouring. I can't see its body, but its head comes
out of the mist, eyes flaming, and I battle it with an ax, and I finally strike off the head. Then within
moments I hear roaring in the fog as the beast grows a new head. I can't see where it's coming from, I
can't see the body. I know it's out there, but it's all invisible. We've lost so much, and we're still losing."
"The war?" Leia said. "It must feel that way, out on the front lines," she soothed him. "The warlords, like
the Empire they served, thrive on fear and greed. But as a diplomat, almost all I see are victories. Every
day another world joins the New Republic. Every day we make some small inroads. We may be losing
some battles, but we're winning the war."
"What if the Empire were perfecting the cloaking devices for their Star Destroyers?" Han asked. "We
keep hearing rumors. Or what if Zsinj or some other Grand Moff just builds another ship like the Iron
Fist , or a fleet of them?"
Leia swallowed. "Then we'd keep fighting. It takes so much energy to run a Super Star Destroyer of that
size, Zsinj could not afford to run more than one or two at a time. The expenses are too high. Eventually,
we would wear him down."
"This war isn't over," Han said. "It might not end during our lifetimes."
She had never seen Han like this, looking so drained. "If we can't win peace for ourselves, then we'll fight
for our children," Leia answered. Han leaned back, rested his head against Leia's breast, and she knew
what he was thinking. She had said our children . Han would be thinking about the Hapans.
摘要：

StarWars-TheCourtshipofPrincessLeiabyDaveWolvertonTheCourtshipofPrincessLeiabyDaveWolvertonChapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8Chapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18Chapter19Chapter20Chapter21Chapter22Chapter23Chapter24Ch...

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