TheBridge

“The Queen’s time is running low then,” Veers commented, standing tall. “If she is indeed alive as we all hope and pray, she has clearly refused to allow Naboo to vote in the affirmative. But if she were to die…”

“The Regent will give Palpatine the vote he needs,” said Skywalker, face stormy.

“That brings us to my news,” Veers continued. “I have been in contact with Piett, General. He is alive and as well as he cares to tell me.”

Skywalker raised his eyebrows.

“Good news indeed. He escaped then?”

“He did with some help. The Princess Sola aided his escape and the two of them are on the hunt for her sister. Your information, General, would be most valuable in their hunt. It is quite possible the officers sent by the Republic are going to try and persuade the Queen.”

Skywalker folded his arms.

“Hold on, Veers. Are you telling me that Piett and the Princess are trying to rescue Padme on their own ?”

“Yes, General.”

“No.” Skywalker scowled darkly. “It is far too risky. For all of them. They need to wait until we can come in with serious back up.”

“Padme does not have time for that, Anakin,” Organa said calmly. “There are six days until the next vote. Palpatine needs it. Which means Naboo has to fall in line. It seems to me that her best hope is the Captain and the Princess Sola.”

THE MISSING QUEEN

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56395192/chapters/158314120

Once she exited the bar, she took a deep breath. It smelled just as bad, but it was free air and she had the needed information.

“Nicely done,” said Firmus’s admiring voice in her earpiece. “I don’t think you realize just how frightening you can be.”

She allowed her mouth to curve a little as she moved across the street toward the alley where he’d hidden himself.

“Well it helps to know you’re here,” she murmured.

Three men approached behind her and she moved to the side to allow them to pass.

“Evening, sweetheart,” said the paunchy one, gripping her upper arm and hauling her toward the alley.

Her heart sky rocketed and she yanked in panic in his grip, other hand going for her blaster.

“No, no,” growled one of the others, slipping the blaster from her holster. “You had some pretty shiny payment back there. You should be more subtle flashing that around. Give it to us and no one gets hurt.”

They’d followed her from the bar. She hadn’t even checked for that. Stupid, stupid.

She exited the fresher and Firmus squinted a little, pressing his lip together as he took in her appearance.

“You don’t like it, darling?” she asked on a laugh, linking her arm in his as they strode toward a speeder station.

“I believe ,” he replied with dignity, “that I have shared my opinion about chesnut hair. But it serves the broader purpose, so I will endure.”

Something in Sola’s chest was warm at the thought that he preferred her natural hair color, and it was no hardship to walk beside him like this, as though it was natural.

A human concierge was manning the desk when they returned to the hotel, and it wasn’t one they’d seen before. Hopefully, most of the workers here would only recall her blonde hair if anyone came asking, which was why they had decided she should change the color before they returned.

They went to dinner at a restaurant the concierge recommended nearby and put on the happily married, very normal couple act.

Firmus leaned in while they shared dessert, smiling at her as though he was paying her a compliment.

“And now,” he said quietly, “We start to work our way through drinking establishments.”

Her mouth curled as he took a bite of the chocolate lygel they were sharing.

“Are you asking me to join you on a pub crawl, Captain?” she asked, snagging her own bite on her spoon.

“Essentially,” he responded, rising and retrieving her cloak to place over her shoulders. “But we’re not getting it all done tonight. We need to space this out to avoid suspicion. We want to be as forgettable as possible.”

“Then lead on, Captain my Captain,” Sola murmured in teasing tones. He shot her a sharp look as he donned his own cloak, and opened his mouth as though he was going to respond before he thought better of it and merely held the door open for her.

And what, Sola wondered as they walked to the first bar, had he been about to say?

Veers turned, and was not completely surprised to see General Skywalker approaching with purpose. He too straightened and saluted.

“General,” he said calmly. “What—”

“Follow me, Veers,” Skywalker ordered curtly. “We’re on a time crunch.”

Veers blinked, but was not one to stand gaping like a gorm fish.

“Travis, take over,” he said, striding to catch up with Skywalker who was headed toward the nearest lift.

Once they entered, the General met his inquiring gaze, blue eyes intense.

“We’re going off ship,” he said curtly. “We need to meet with some contacts and there is only a short window of time to do so. Pack a kit for several days, Colonel. Speak to no one about this and meet me in hangar 12.”

“Yes, sir,” Veers answered, brain whirling.

Sola glanced at the map on the datapad, then slid it back into the pocket of her long jacket. They were on course to reach the valley by dawn. There they would need to maneuver a bit to blur the trail in the rocky areas of the dry stream bed before following it down further.

They likely had two hours before the sun’s arrival. She appreciated the grey of early morning as it was easier to mark their terrain, but equally it was easier to see them.

Firmus had not spoken much, and she was certain he was grimly enduring by this point. He was as determined as she was to put significant distance between themselves and the Capitol.

Sola allowed herself to take comfort in his presence once more. Surely, the Force would not have sent her a man such as this only for them to fail? She had to believe Padme was still alive. Her Uncle would have declared himself as the official ruler with great ceremony if she was dead.

It hurt to think of what her sister must be enduring—-alone and a prisoner somewhere. She wondered briefly about Colonel Veers. Had he reached safety?

She turned to Firmus.

“You mount first,” she hissed, well aware that she would not be able to lose the tension wound inside until they reached the river. “Then slide to sit right behind the saddle.”

He gripped the saddle horn and she helped to boost him. He grunted softly in pain, but made no comment as he obeyed her orders. She mounted easily and settled into the saddle.

“Hold tight around my waist,” she commanded. “No chivalry here. You can’t fall off, so I mean it. Tight.”

His arms slid around her firmly and he pressed close to her back, bringing both welcome warmth and an alarming hitch in her breathing.

“We have a three hour ride to the location where my contact has left the second horse,” she informed him. This was hardly the time to appreciate those wiry arms around her. Stop it, Sola. “Then we ride through the night. We’ll sleep in the day. But we must make it to the hiding place I have in mind before they start searching for us. It is going to be difficult.”

“I promise not to be stoic,” he said, his breath tickling her ear. “If that is what you’re saying. I’ll take painkillers when I need them.”

“Good,” Sola answered, almost not believing they were finally doing this. “And Firmus—I’m glad you’re finally free once more.”

His arms tightened slightly around her waist.

“As am I,” he replied. “Let’s find your sister.”

And Minyas set off into the night.

“I’m sorry,” Sola said as they moved along the long covered path toward the massive estate the Regent and the Princess were visiting. “I know these are the worst sort of functions.”

He had been at seven of them in attendance to her already, and she knew he abhorred them deeply. Because it was at these gatherings that she was expected to show him off like a favorite tooka or rasix puppy.

He was heartily sick of the fawning and giggling from the other women who found him a novelty. She was heartily sick of it too. Many of them had slaves and servants as well—men and women who were equal in ability to Firmus with their neutral expressions as they followed their owners about. One woman—a Duchess of some sort—-even dressed her slaves to match her wardrobe as she proudly pointed out to Sola.

How could living sentient beings do this to each other?

“I’ve more or less got the hang of them now,” Firmus murmured beside and slightly behind her where he carried the train of her ridiculous dress to keep it from getting dirty.

She glanced at him quickly—-slaves were mostly ignored after all, except to hand things to or send off on errands. He was impeccable himself, though not dressed to be noticed. She had no desire to make him more of a spectacle than was required. Unlike the poor soul in front of them, clad in eye shattering yellow to offset his mistress’s candy pink gown.

They had to keep their voices low. Her Uncle was several yards behind her as they were going to be the last to enter so as to have the most attention. How she despised it.

“I wish,” she whispered fiercely, “that we could attend one of these incognito. And we would have the best time making fun of all the ridiculous things before escaping to sail one of those boats.”

She had reason to know that the Captain could be very funny if he wished, and after the last three functions of this nature, his observations regarding all the idiocy had her in tears back in her quarters. It had become something of a tradition and it helped both of them to relax after an evening of being on show in different ways.

He ducked his head to hide a swift smile.

“Someday perhaps,” he said softly. “Preferably a Republic function with your sister free and restored as Queen.”

“Do you think sending us was purely a show for the Republic then?” he asked, “To appear as though we are ‘dealing’ with Naboo, but in fact are protecting it?”

“Very likely,” Anakin agreed, “but again, I’m not certain why .”

“Then, General,” Veers said, pushing up carefully and retrieving his crutches. “I am at your disposal to find that out.”

Anakin rose as well and clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way toward an exit.

“Even if it is just us two on a rescue mission,” he said, “I will do my best.”

Veers gave him a look.

“While I appreciate that, sir,” he answered in skeptical tones, “I might suggest we save the one man, one Jedi, plan for the last resort.”

Anakin grinned. Oh yes, he liked the Colonel.

“What’s the matter, Veers?” he asked lightly, “don’t trust my ability?”

“I would like to not leave Naboo a smoking ruin, General,” the Colonel answered with a straight face.

“Noted,” Anakin answered, hope stirring in his soul now that he had an ally.

Cautiously he peered between the blue fabric pieces and saw that this porch overlooked magnificent gardens. A riot of color met his eye, a welcome contrast to the vast green patches and the pale orange stones that lined the paths and ringed the fountains. High walls surrounded this, but from this height, Piett could see the spires and towers of the city beyond.

The door handles behind him clicked and he turned slightly to see the Princess, dressed in pale green today, her hair in two looped braids on either side of her head.

She raised an eyebrow at him from the doorway.

“Doctor Braxten said you shouldn’t get to your feet until tomorrow.”

He inclined his head with a slight quirk to his mouth.

“Never been particularly good at staying in bed I’m afraid.”

She crossed her arms and regarded him for another second before she shook her head, smiling.

“Can’t say that I don’t sympathize. I’d go mad as well. On the other hand, I wasn’t flung all over the planet by beasts and gladiators for two days. Oh yes—and the stab wound.”

She gestured a hand, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“Bit of exaggeration,” Piett murmured, and for a moment the two of them shared a gentle battle of wills before she shrugged and moved aside.

“Well. I was going to bring things out to you, but you should come in seeing as you’re determined to be upright.”

“Is it hurting you?” asked a voice at my elbow, and I turned to find that Princess Sola was at my side.

She had achieved a smooth tan in our weeks of sailing and looked like most Axxilan girls did who had grown up in a desert climate. I wondered if this was normal for women from Naboo and decided it didn’t matter. Her honey brown skin suited her. I spotted a few freckles on her nose as well.

“Thank you, no,” I replied, touching my cap swiftly in respect. “I just…I was making sure the bandage was in place.”

She leaned both elbows on the rail, her sleeves billowing in the breeze and stray strands of dark hair whipping about her face.

“They said that we will be home in two days,” she stated, her countenance peaceful and content as she gazed out at the white tops of the waves.

“Yes,” I agreed, frantically searching my brain for something interesting to say and failing. “I assume you will be glad to be back in Naboo?”

Stupid, incredibly mundane question.

“Very much so,” she replied, tucking one of the rebellious strands of hair behind her ear. Then she turned to lean her back on the rail and study me with those intense blue eyes.

“I wonder what you will think of it, Lieutenant?”

Sola strode to where the Doctor indicated as the woman turned back to the other Republic officer who lay quiet and boneless on the exam table.

“----just need to see him, please —” came urgent tenor tones as Sola approached.

Two medics were working over the man, one stemming the blood flow from his shoulder and the other cutting away his ruined clothing to reach other wounds.

“Captain,” Sola said clearly, without preamble and immediately pain filled hazel eyes met hers.

“Princess—” started one of the medics, but she was in charge here and Sola held up a quelling hand.

“By all means continue your work. But I must speak with him.” She came around by his head so as to stay away from their activity and bent over him.

“The King has decreed that one of you is to live and go free. As the winner of this contest, that is your right—-”

“No,” he interrupted, arching a little and clenching his jaw as the medics worked over him. “Please. If…if that is the decree…take Veers. Please .”

“Veers,” she repeated, glancing to where the other officer lay. “Your friend?”

He nodded, panting with anguish.

“Has he been given something for the pain?” Sola snapped, glaring over at the medic working on his ravaged shoulder and chest.

“As much as we have, Princess,” the man growled back. “We aren’t given a great deal of such things for prisoners.”

No they wouldn’t have. Kark it.

“Princess,” the Captain said, drawing her attention back to him. “You…are…the…?”

“Princess Sola Naberrie,” she said. “Yes. Are you certain, Captain? Your friend—-”

“Needs far more care than he will get here,” the Captain grated, burning her with his intent gaze. “Foot was…crushed. He…will die here. Take him.”

I could see he was self conscious about all that had been done for him. I understood it.

“No one aboard would change a thing that we did,” I continued.

Piett cleared his throat a little.

“Well. What can I say to that but— thank you?”

He held out a hand and I grasped it.

“It was a pleasure. I only wish we could have saved more people,” I said. “I would remind you as well, Lieutenant, that it was you who battled to survive as well. We all could do only so much. The rest was in your hands. Stubborn, aren’t you?”

He laughed a bit then.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Shocking,” I remarked.

“You don’t have to agree so readily, sir.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me then, and I saw a man with a sense of humor, and that certain… something. That spark of life— of drive and passion. Here , I thought, could be a friend.

“My name is Max,” I told him. I saw the uncertainty in his eyes.

“Ah…you’re also a superior officer, Colonel.”

I grinned and crossed my arms.

“Oh yes. And don’t you forget it. But I’m army. And you’re a naval man, I’m told. So—-not really a protocol issue.”

His mouth quirked upward again.

“Not really sure that is how it works, but ah, thank you. I’m Firmus.”

For twenty years, a Regent rules Naboo after the tragic deaths of the Nabberie royal couple in an accident. Their two young daughters, Sola, and Padme (the Queen apparent), are raised by their uncle who is the Regent. But things on Naboo take a sharp turn for the worse under his reign, and the Galactic Republic must send a force to bring them into line. This force is led by Colonel Veers and Captain Piett, who suffer a surprising defeat, and are forced to try and survive in the gladiatorial arena of Theed. But it is this very defeat which leads the Princess Sola to have some hope for Naboo, and perhaps give her the means to find her missing sister.

The guards holding me had relaxed their grip and were clearly uncertain about what to do as the terrified horse got closer to our position. They had no desire to be trampled, but equally, they were under pain of death not to let me escape.

Into this moment of their hesitation, another horse crashed right in front of us and a swearing officer slipped from his back and fell to the churned up earth. The horse rolled as well, and my guards let go of me to leap to the sides lest they be crushed or sliced open by the flailing hooves.

I had a fleeting instant to register intent grey eyes before me and a touch of cold steel at my wrists. The ropes parted like melted butter and the officer said one word—-

“Go.”

Then he was gone again, trying to calm his horse, when in reality his efforts resulted in a very unpredictable animal, its back end swinging about and his hooves stomping nervously.

The blood was buzzing in my ears, but this was the moment and I had promised Rilla I would try.

Forty minutes into their journey—moving more slowly for the sake of their wounded General—their tiny leader had paused and then turned to spear Wolffe with her large eyes.

“That energy….I feel it more strongly,” she informed him, ignoring the puzzled looks from the others.

“Is it near the city?” he asked her.

She nodded, frowning into the distance with her hands on her hips. “Wolffe…” she said consideringly, “we need to find out what that is. I just…bad feeling.”

“We have a lot of things to have bad feelings about, Princess,” Veers reminded her grimly. She turned to face the General.

“I know,” she replied. “But…since we landed here, I’ve been getting this strange energy…It’s close, General, I can feel it. If you all hide, Wolffe and I can do recon. I need to do this.”

It was a mark of the great respect they all held her in that no one protested further. They were all too familiar by now with Skywalkers and ‘bad feelings’.

Matt eyed the two men warily as they approached their little group in the pub.

He was aware that Piett had already spotted them, because the Captain had thumbed the safety off of his blaster under the table about twenty seconds previously. General Veers lounged deceptively, long legs stretched out and casually crossed, but he too had one hand resting on the seat beside him, inches from his blaster.

Matt didn’t think the two strangers looked like they wanted trouble, but then, he’d been in situations like this before where he’d been wrong.

The Captain always said ‘discretion is the better part of valour’ and Matt wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but basically it was always be cautious.

“No,” Veers stated flatly once the two men were within hearing range.

The taller one, a man with dark skin but greying blonde hair, sighed quietly.

“General, we just want to talk.”