He smiled. “Have fun!”
I left through the airlock and held up a glow rod as guests came out to greet me. I checked their names offthe list and decided to wait a few more minutes for the stragglers. The last two off the ship were the droids, who were certifiably not on the list.
“I didn’t see you two on the excursion list,” I said, pocketing the datapad.
Veebee looked positively appalled—or at least as appalled as a droid without any facial expressions could look. “Excursion?Oh no, we are going grocery shopping.”
I frowned, moving the basket Dad had given me from one arm to the other. “For what?”
“Starblossoms!”VB-35 replied excitedly. Food was the only thing she reallyevergot excited about. “You know I hear the ones on Alderaan were quite sour. They were supposedly all exterminated with the planet—that cannot be helped—but I have it on good authority that this station’s agricultural site might have a variation of the fruit. Which is exactly what I am looking for—erm, exactly whatweare looking for,” she added, correcting herself.
N2-0 added a tired bloop.
The taller droid threw up her hands. “Yes, yes, I amdraggingyou with me. What else is new? You know it is not safe for rare droids such as myself to go anywherealone. Think of the ruffians who might kidnap me for my heuristic processor and use all five hundred thousand three hundred and twelve original recipes for ill.”
The astromech droid chirped in suspicion.
VB-35 gave a start. “Languages?Oh, I deleted most of those. Whoever has the space in their databanks for that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yes, who needs languages? Just be back by the time we leave. Wait,” I added, stopping them before they entered the station. “What about the…”The stowaway.
“Gone. Left with the first group for the tour,” Veebee replied.
Disappointment sank like a stone in my gut, but I quickly shoved the feeling away. I didn’tcarethat he’d left without saying goodbye. I guessed he would, and last night I hadn’t really given him another option. “Ah.”
“Come along, Entoo. We are getting rusty just standing here,” Veebee added, jostling the metal basket on her arm, and stalked into the space station to find that fruit, her poor astromech partner trailing behind like a dejected companion droid.
After the last of the guests checked in with me, I took a deep breath, slapped my cheeks to wake myself up, and raised my free hand to get everyone’s attention.
And my life returned to normal.
I started the tour the same way I had for years. We began on one side of the Monument and slowly made our way through the corridors.
“Alderaan was beautiful,” I began, walking backward toward the main hub of the space station. The din of life rebounded through the metal halls, bright music and ringing laughter, the hum of holovids projecting photos of Alderaan throughout the ages. Cities and sunsets, smiling people now dust and star stuff. “Imagine the sunset: evening skies that turned as purple as the crusts of galaxies, inset with stars so bright they shined like jewels, fading into night. Imagine a planet full of lush green trees and alabaster skyscrapers. Imagine Aldera, its capital, built beside a beautiful lake with a backdrop of mountains, a jewel of the Republic—at least, some thought it to be.”
I waxed poetic about the art, the culture, the food—the little bits of forgotten memories, of history left to float aimlessly in space—all the things that made a place a home. I knew a little bit about that.
About what made someplace safe and welcoming.
About what made you want to return, again and again.
The Empire hated that. Hated comfort, hated warmth, hated a place that felt so viscerally likehome—
One of the Civil War Buffs interjected: “The Empire struck Alderaan because it had been without conflict for generations—easy pickings. It had a weak monarch.”I’d stopped the tour group by a museum with a few relics of the monarch in question. “It got worse when they adopted the kid.”
“Leia Organa proved herself to be a great leader,” I said, gripping the basket tightly out of nerves alone, but was interrupted by his glasses-wearing friend.
“If I were her, I’d have stopped Grand Moff Tarkin then and there. This was her home, and she justwatched.”
Thank the stars no one was around and the lively music covered up most of the Buffs’ awful comments. I reined in my annoyance as best I could. “Hindsight makes it easier—”
“Could’ve been avoided if she was stronger,” another guy interrupted me, shaking his head. “Sad, really.”
I tried to take control of the conversation. “Leia Organa went on to help defeat the Empire and save the galaxy—”
“Yeah, and Alderaan paid the price. Agoodruler would’ve—”
“People do the best they can with the information and resources they have,” I said in a tone that I hoped would brook no argument. It was louder and harsher than my usual voice, but it got the point across. “It’s easy for us to say we could’ve done better, but isn’t that a little disrespectful to the very real lives that were lost? Thisisn’t a thought exercise. This happened. There is ash mixed into the rock floating out there in space—people.Billionsof people. You are more than welcome to suppose what Princess Organashouldhave done, but don’t do it here. Don’t disrespect them here.”
