Leia, Princess of Alderaan (Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi)

“I didn’t mean into his office. Just to walk there with you, if it would help you stay calm.”

His sweetness eased some of the tension within her—not all of it, not even close, but enough for her to collect herself. Leia put her hands on either side of his face. “What would help me is knowing you’ll be here when I get back.”

“Then I’m staying right here.”

Kier kissed her goodbye so thoroughly that the warmth of it buoyed her up during the entire journey through the labyrinthine set of lifts, skyways, and corridors that brought her to Tarkin’s Coruscant offices. When she got there, however, and saw the imposing Imperial seal on the doors, the chill began to creep back in. But royal training could carry her through far more than ceremonial rituals of the court. Commanding and confident? No. That’s not what the Grand Moff wants to see. Demure and innocent—that’s better. Leia clasped her hands in front of her, lowered her chin slightly, and walked inside.

Before the protocol droid had even finished introducing her, Tarkin had risen from his desk. Not even his polite smile could gentle his cadaverous face. “Your Highness. How good of you to come.”

It took every minute of every year of her training for her not to flinch when taking his outstretched hand. His fingers could’ve been fleshless bones. “Thank you, Governor. I appreciate the honor, but I admit, I was surprised to hear from you.” Lower your eyes, tighten the throat as though you were sad. “After how I behaved—”

“Now, now, none of that. You were hardly responsible for that disgraceful scene.” His “kindly” pat on her shoulder didn’t fool her; he was trying to discombobulate her under the guise of comforting her. “In fact, since that night, I’ve been concerned about you. I felt I should take some kind of action, were such required.”

“You, sir?” Leia couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice, but that was all right. He’d expected to catch her off guard and would be pleased to have done so.

He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk and politely didn’t sit until she had. “Yes. Forgive my interference, but it occurred to me that if the daughter of a queen and a viceroy had difficulties, there would be very few people to whom she could turn.”

“That’s an extremely kind gesture.” From another sort of person altogether, it might have been. “Really, though, what happened that night—it’s between my parents. I have to let them work it out in their own time.”

Tarkin nodded, and though he studied her avidly, she detected no suspicion…at least, not yet. “That’s a very mature attitude, allowing your elders to act as they see best.”

Eyes downcast, she said, “I know this is the right way to handle it, but I admit, it’s hard sometimes.” Did he hope to reduce her to tears again? If that was what it took to end this interview, Leia was prepared to sob until he had medical droids wheel her out for observation.

“Undoubtedly.” To her dismay, Tarkin gestured for a servitor droid to bring them tea as he settled into his chair like a man prepared to talk at length. “But it’s that kind of self-control that will make you a fine senator and an excellent queen. Your parents have quite a reputation, Your Highness, but I dare say you’ll eclipse them when the time comes.”

Why is he talking about this?

She kept a tiny, uncertain smile on her face as she accepted her cup of tea. Tarkin kept on while the droid poured next to him. “Although the centralized governance of the Empire is what provides our stability and our strength, planetary leaders nonetheless play a critical role. The Emperor needs to know that monarchs, presidents, prime ministers, chieftains, and senators will support his rule, and monitor activities more closely than we can hope to from Coruscant.”

Cooperate with us. Do as we say, and you keep your throne. He wouldn’t be having this conversation with her unless he thought she’d inherit that throne soon.

Since her parents were still hardly even middle-aged, there was only one reason for Tarkin to think that.

Her entire body tightened—her throat strangling her voice, her ears trying to shut out sound so she couldn’t hear any more of this. Leia’s heart beat wildly in her chest, and the impulse to dash out of the room was almost overwhelming. She simply sipped her tea before saying, so steadily it shocked her, “I realize how important that is to Emperor Palpatine.”

“I believe you do. You’re a good girl.” Tarkin smiled, obviously thinking her young and na?ve enough to be flattered by such condescension. “While I commend your attitude toward allowing your parents some, ah, distance, I want you to know that in the future, should you feel uncertain and require guidance, I shall be glad to give it.” Be our puppet ruler, and I’ll hold the strings.

“Thank you, Governor. I appreciate that.” On more levels than you can ever realize.

Maybe some hint of emotion slipped out. Maybe he was simply too calculating a man not to apply one final test. She knew only that Tarkin cocked his head, studying her like a predator about to pounce, before he said—with courtly flourish—“I see such attentions as an investment in our Empire’s future. Someday, I hope, we will achieve perfect rule and perfect peace, from here on Coruscant to the farthest systems of Lothal, Paucris, Rattatak—or whatever worlds we may yet find.”

Paucris. It sliced through her like a sword’s blade. Tarkin certainly hadn’t named that system by chance. He hoped to shake up a young girl who—so far as he knew—he’d already seen easily reduced to tears. His eyes locked with hers as he searched for the telltale slip that would betray her, and doom them all.

Leia didn’t flinch. With the full force of her imagination, she pictured Kier sitting in front of her, imagined it was him she was smiling at, and heard the warmth in her voice as she answered, “May we someday see that perfect peace.”

For one seemingly eternal instant, nothing changed—and then Tarkin ever so slightly relaxed. “Hear, hear.”

She had to make chitchat through that entire cup of tea. Had to allow him to escort her out of the office, her arm through his, and tell him goodbye. She even made sure to walk at a normal speed for the first while after she left, until she’d taken three lifts and one skyway back to the senatorial complex. But as soon as she’d entered the inner corridors, Leia broke into a run.

She burst into her father’s office, startling the staff. “Please tell me Dad is here.”

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness,” said the protocol droid, with a distinct undertone of and you should know that. “Senator Organa’s return is still scheduled six days hence—”

“I need to use his private office. Excuse me.” Leia rushed straight in, knowing nobody on her father’s staff had the rank to prevent her, even if they’d wanted to. She pulled up the HoloNet and put in a call to the palace, directly to her mother; as the connection was made, she brought up Mon Mothma on audio only.