- - -
The Mu-class shuttle was the Imperial workhorse shuttlecraft-It had the same internal volume as the larger, more heavily armed Lambda, but none of the frills and a much smaller wingspan. The Imperial Navy had actually be quite generous in donating them to the Alderaanian Civil Defense Fleet: Each of their ships had received at least two, along with several crates of spare parts.
Naturally, Elana had her slicers and mechanics go over every inch of the shuttles. They'd found several tracking devices, all of which they had discarded at the earliest possible moment. Lieutenant Quinn had obeyed the order to dispose of them before the Death Star. Perhaps he'd already had ideas about rebelling before then.
Nevertheless, Elana rode in the back of the shuttle as they made their approach to the Yavin IV base. They were waved in by ground crew, as the base didn't have an automatic landing beacon. Quinn was a very good pilot, so Elana didn't bother him as she stood behind his seat and watched the hanger bay as he skillfully maneuvered them in for a landing.
There were a fair number of X- and Y-wing fighters all over the hanger bay, though a lot fewer than the many empty refueling stations would suggest. There was an eclectic collection of freighters, scouts, and smaller vessels as well-Most prominently, a old, beat up YT-1300 and a heavily modified VCX-100. Quinn used the shuttle's antigravs to skillfully land them nearby both these vessels, as a small repulsorlift cart drew up close.
Elana brushed off her formal dress, as Quinn rose from his seat. She stood by him with a smile.
"Well done, Lieutenant," she said, "would you do me the honor of escorting me?"
Quinn blinked rapidly.
"I... Yes My Lady," he said. He offered his arm, and Elana took it. Earnhart snickered, as Ensign Lorr and a few other officers pretended not to notice his hesitation.
"Well, shall we?" She ordered, making it sound like a question. Elana had always been good at that.
They walked down the ramp of the shuttle, Elana beaming as she saw not only Princess Leia, but General Dodonna waiting for her. Dodonna had worked with her mother and Bail Organa during the Clone Wars-It was good to see the Rebellion was being led by someone with experience.
Elana prepared to kneel before her sovereign, already bowing her head.
"Your Highness, General, I-Ooh!"
Leia outright hugged her tightly. Elana froze, then awkwardly hugged the princess back. Leia pulled back with a happy smile, one that Elana couldn't help returning despite the awkward situation. General Dodonna was smiling with a twinkling look in his eyes-Like an amused grandfather. Earnhart was wearing his fully enclosed helmet again, so no idea what his facial expression was-Though Elana bet that he was grinning.
"I think we can dispense with protocol for the night, Baroness Thul," Leia said with a wink. Elana coughed, all her mother's decorum and manners fighting hard... Before they gave up and Elana let out a matching grin.
"I believe we can, my Queen. And it's Viceroy, I'll have you know."
"Princess, for now please," Leia corrected her, "or Leia."
Elana's grin widened a bit. She could sense Quinn stiffening up a bit in worry. How strange!
"Only if you call me Elana, Your Highness."
"Sounds good to me," Leia said cheerfully, taking Elana's arms in her own and walking her to the cart, "we have much to talk about, and titles make it so dreary, don't you agree?"
"Yes I do," Elana said, just as cheerfully.
- - -
The party was in full swing in one of the many cavernous rooms in the temple complex. Booze was plentiful, as was food. Several of Elana's people soon arrived in other shuttles, and began to mingle amongst the crowd. Elana stayed with Leia, as they walked around the periphery of the dancing and laughing. General Dodonna, Earnhart, and Quinn stayed with them, walking behind the two noble ladies.
"We lost most of our fleet at Scarif," Leia explained, "and most of our fighters taking down the Death Star. We have plenty of GR-75 transports for hauling, but as for warships? Not much is left."
"GR-75s? I wondered where all those went after Gallofree went bankrupt," Elana mused, "I'm guessing your father bought them up?"
"Garm Bel Iblis, but he helped," Leia replied, her face tightening just a bit at the mention of her father. Elana sucked in a breath, then resumed.
"Well, we have twenty nine War Frigates, thirty six War Cruisers, and maybe two dozen Corellian corvettes and gunships. Enough firepower to escort us all out of here. We can handle a few Star Destroyers, but I'm not confident in our ability to deal with what the Empire will probably send after us."
"How is your fighter coverage?" Dodonna asked. Elana looked to Quinn, who promptly answered.
"We have enough Z-95 Mod 77 Headhunters to fill out five squadrons: However, we only have two operational due to lack of trained pilots. We only used one squadron at Uvena-The other remained with the rest of the fleet in case our strike went badly."
"Sensible," Dodonna nodded, "what about your manufacturing? All War Frigates have pretty extensive automated workshops."
"They're fully operational," Quinn reported, "adapting them to create spare parts for non-Alderaanian designs is possible, though it will be slow going."
"That's still good," Leia said, "the Incom defectors will be ecstatic."
She turned to Elana, urgency in her eyes.
"What about Another Chance?" Leia asked. "Have you sent the recall signal for it?"
"The automated hyperbeacons should have sent that in case of planetary disaster," Elana said, glancing back at Quinn, "but we need to input some safe coordinates for it to rendezvous with us."
"We have an idea of where to do that," Dodonna said, "but we'll leave that for later. It is a celebration, after all."
Leia shook her head, even as the crowd hooted and jeered loudly. Elana looked over, and bit her lip to hold in her laugh.
A large caricature of the Emperor himself, in cake with elaborate frosting, was wheeled out into the center of the ballroom. It was being pushed by a tall Wookie, and a handsome if scruffy looking man in a black vest and white undershirt. The swagger of his hips and the well worn blaster hanging against his worn trousers easily identified him as a spacer. The man looked up and grinned across the ballroom right at Leia.
"Your Worshipfulness! Come on! We can't eat it all by ourselves!" He called out.
Leia flushed a bit as all eyes were on her, but she gracious walked up through the parting crowd to the cake. She scowled a bit as Han looked Elana up and down, an action Elana rewarded with a smile.
"And this is?" He asked.
Leia narrowed her eyes.
"Viceroy Elana Thul, this is Captain Han Solo, and his first mate, Chewbacca" she said, "two of the heroes of our recent battle."
"Did you blow up the Death Star, then?" Elana asked, looking Han up and down herself. She could feel Quinn tensing behind her, but she paid it no mind. Han laughed, and shook his head. His Wookie chortled, standing tall.
"Nah, he's coming up-LUKE! COME ON!"
"Just a second, Han!"
Elana looked and stared. The boy... He looked so young. His dirty blonde hair and smooth face only added to it, along with his bright blue eyes. His tanned skin spoke of long hours working outside-Like a farmboy. He was wearing black freighter trousers, a white undershirt, and a yellow jacket. He walked up, a large knife and a small plate in his hands. Several Rebels patted him on the back and shoulders as he passed by, to which he grinned cheerfully.
Han nodded in approval.
"Hurry up and cut that cake, kid! We're dying over here!" Han laughed, "had to keep Chewie from eating it!"
Chewbacca growled something in Shriwook that sounded disparaging, which Han huffed at.
"Well someone ate all the leftover Rebos and I know it wasn't me," Han scoffed.
"Figures you'd save leftover from that greasetrap," Leia shot back, making a face. Han smirked and shrugged.
"Can't all get our meals hand delivered, Your Highness. Come on Luke, cut the first piece! What are you going for?"
Luke, still smiling that cheerful, innocent smile, thrust his knife into the Cake Emperor, and hard. The ballroom went silent for a moment, before riotous laughter filled the air as Luke cut out the crotch area of the Emperor.
He set it on a plate and beamed, still looking innocent, as he looked over at Leia, Han, Elana, Chewie, and Quinn.
"Anyone want this one? Or should I let you choose your own?"
Han whistled.
"Remind me never to make you mad, Kid," Han said.
"I'll be sure to give you fair warning," Luke agreed. He turned in surprise at Elana, "ah, hello, I'm Luke Skywalker. Well-Commander Skywalker, now.'
"Elana Thul, Viceroy of Alderaan," she replied. She took the cake, and, beaming, took a fork from Han. She stuck it into the cake slice, pulled it up, and ate. She beamed.
"Delicious," she said. Luke nodded.
"I'm sorry about Alderaan," he said quietly, as another Rebel took the knife and went to work on the cake. Elana bowed her head to him, and extended her elbow.
"Thank you for avenging us," she said, "so that no one else would suffer the same fate."
Luke nodded, some recent pain in his eyes, as he glanced at her elbow in confusion. With a laugh at his naivete, Elana wrapped her arm around his, and led him away as she held her cake. Quinn continued to shadow her, as Earnhart and Dodonna dug in for some cake of their own.
"So, Luke... Please... Tell me about yourself," she said, leading Luke to a nearby table, "I want to hear all about it."
"Er, there's not much to tell," Luke admitted, looking a bit bashful.
"Then it won't take too much time," Elana said cheerfully, deciding she really liked this young man.
Though she wasn't going to drag him behind the stables. Not that there were any on this planet.
Probably.
- - -
Lieutenant Marcus Quinn did have emotions and strong convictions. He was good at hiding them, to the point he'd gotten the nickname of "The Droid" by some of his unkind classmates at the Academy. It was largely born of jealousy-He had graduated top in his class and gotten a plum assignment in strategic planning. He had almost opted for a squadron posting, but as much as he enjoyed flying, he had wanted to stretch his mind more.
The petty politics and squabbles between men who should have known better had made him long for that squadron posting. Still, his performance had been good enough he had been promoted all the way up to full Lieutenant in less than three years.
He kept his complaints to himself. He had remained the consummate professional. Even now, a rebel and traitor to the Empire, he still kept his calm and professional demeanor about him.
Though he had to admit... He was feeling a bit... Tense when it came to seeing His Lady with another man. Granted, a heroic young man who had destroyed the Death Star, but still...
They were talking, and Elana... His Lady... Was calm. Relaxed. Skywalker was nervous, but was slowly relaxing himself as they talked. He said something that made Elana laugh. Quinn found himself gritting his teeth a bit.
"Your jealousy is showing," Tyra stated. Quinn turned to tell off the ensign who had been dogging him for years in the fleet... But his words caught in his throat. Instead of her prim uniform, Tyra Lorr was wearing a green dress that showed off her exceptional charms. Charms that had been easy to disregard, given her icy demeanor. Quinn sniffed.
"Nothing of the sort," he said, "she's been through quite an ordeal. She is emotionally compromised."
"Are any of us not?" Tyra Lorr asked softly. Quinn looked away. He could feel Lorr's small smirk.
"Hey! You're with the Alderaanian Civil Defense Fleet, right?" One of the Rebel pilots asked Lorr. Quinn looked him over-he was tall, long faced, with short black hair but kind eyes. He was in black pants and a white shirt, with a khaki uniform jacket. Lorr looked him up and down, and nodded.
"Yes," she said, "Ensign Tyra Lorr, formally of the 83rd CommScan Squadron. You?"
"Wedge Antilles, of Red Squadron-Or what's left of it," he said, "you guys liberated Uvena Prime?"
"We did," Tyra said with a nod, "how long it will last is unknown, but I believe coordination with the other freed rebelling worlds will allow it to retain its freedom. You were one of the pilots who attacked the Death Star?"
"One of the only surviving ones, yeah," Wedge said, looking a bit grim, before holding up his drink, "would you join me in a toast to them? The bravest men and women I ever flew with."
"Imperial code 45-7, paragraph E, states that fraternization is not allowed between officers of higher and lower ranks without submission of Form E-67, stating intentions to pursue a romantic relationship without coercion," Tyra stated. Wedge stared at her in disbelief.
"Er... Wha-?"
"However, as I am not an Imperial officer any longer, such regulations no longer apply," Tyra said, taking Wedge's arm, "please buy me a drink, Wedge. I would be honored to share a toast with you to our fallen comrades."
Wedge grinned, and led Tyra away. Quinn scowled a bit.
"Don't let your bad mood ruin tonight," a quiet voice said. Quinn turned, and again, a beautiful woman had managed to sneak up on him. In this case, Princess Leia.
"Your Highness-"
Leia held up a hand, and smiled warmly.
"We need to embrace why we fight, after all," Leia said, "otherwise, what's the point?"
Quinn very slowly nodded. She was right, after all.
"Yes, Your Highness," he said. He put His Lady and Skywalker out of his mind, and headed over to get some cake.
... Though he couldn't help sneaking looks over at them the rest of the night. He was just looking out for her, that's all.
And he didn't drink more heavily when he saw her and Skywalker walking off together. He was just enjoying the starshine the Rebels had distilled out of some local jungle plant.
That was all.
- - -