（英文原版）星球大战 莱娅：奥尔德朗公主 第二十三章

Looking for allies in the Apprentice Legislature also meant looking for them in her pathfinding class. It made sense to start with Harp Allor, since Chandrila was already so strongly allied with Alderaan; Mon Mothma Appeared to be even more central to the work against Palpatine than Leia’s parents were, and the other Chandrilan senator, Winmey Lenz, had attended several of the banquets-that-weren’t-really-banquets. Together, Leia figured, she and Harp could assess everyone else.

So she managed to get on to Harp’s team for the next pathfinding trek, through the marshlands of Chandrila itself, hoping they’d have a chance to talk.

They didn’t.

“This is disgusting.” Chassellon waded through the hip-deep mud, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “I thought Felucia was bad. And I thought Chandrila was supposed to be a civilized planet.”

“It is! We are! But the marshes are—well, they’re like this,” Harp finished, deflated.

One of the few wildernesses remaining on Chandrila, the marshlands were swampy and hot, wreathed in opaque mists exuding from the twisty, blue-leafed trees that formed at least ninety percent of the landmarks. Chief Pangie had told them that finding their way through the marshes would test their ability to observe and remember small details. Leia decided she should’ve known from the chief’s grin that the trip would also involve extra misery.

“We’re running behind, I just know it,” Harp whined. “We’ll be the last ones to the rendezvous point.”

Leia managed to smile for her. “Doesn’t matter as long as we get there.”

“Aren’t marshes supposed to be flat?” Chassellon griped as they trudged on, their way illuminated by sunlight filtered greenish by the mists. “Because we’ve been going upward at a small incline for the past three hours, and I’m bloody well sick of it.”

“We’ll get to the mud flats in a few klicks,” Leia promised. At least, they would if she was correctly remembering the oddly splinted-together roots of one particular tree.

Chassellon looked toward the skies for mercy that wouldn’t arrive. “Mud flats? Mud flats represent our big opportunity for everything to get better?”

“You said you wanted to stop climbing!” Harp retorted. “Well, this is your chance!”

Would I fail my Challenge of the Body if I abandoned two of my pathfinding partners in the wilderness? Leia gritted her teeth and pushed onward.

Sure enough, once they reached the mud flats, she was glad to see them. The flats rose up from the swamps in a series of plateaus, none of them Appealing but at least more solid than liquid, unlike the gunk they’d been soldiering through. If they could just work their way up the flats, they’d have a clear view to the shorelands beyond, which would lead them to the rendezvous point and home. Leia glanced down at her skintight trek suit and sarong—both thickly coated with mud—and wondered what Kier must look like. She couldn’t wait to tease him about it, or to be teased in return—

“Finally,” Chassellon said. “All right, Harp, boost me up and I’ll pull the two of you after me.”

Harp put her hands on her hips. “Why should I be the one to boost you up? Why shouldn’t you boost me? You’re taller than me; you’d be better at it.”

He doubled down. “Well, I’m also stronger than you, so I’d be better at pulling you up, too.”

“You don’t know that you’re stronger.”

“Oh, please, Harp! You hardly come up to my elbows.”

“That doesn’t make me weak!”

Force give me the strength not to actually murder them, Leia thought. But their endless bickering, combined with her exhaustion and the general grossness of the day, had worked on her temper until it was near the breaking point. Once again her temples throbbed, and the only thing she could think of to be glad about was the fact that she was a few paces behind them and still—for the time being—out of the argument.

“You’re just angry that you can’t buy your way to the top of the class, like you do with everything else!” Harp shouted. “Some of us actually care about doing the right thing!”

Chassellon yelled back, “Some of us just want to get out of the mud already!”

The anger within Leia boiled hotter, until it felt like the only strength left in her body. Surely, at any moment, she would snap—

That was when she heard the distant rush, and felt the faint rumble beneath her feet.

Leia lifted her head, looking up the flats. Through the greenish mists, did she see…movement?

The sound loudened until it caught Chassellon’s attention. “What’s that?”

“Oh, kriff,” breathed Harp, her eyes widening. “Mudslide.”

It was as if the name made the image snap into focus. Horrified, Leia realized half the hillside was now sluicing down toward them. Those on the bank could run for it, but anybody still in the mud when the slide hit would be swept away.

“Chassellon, you go first!” Leia cried. He was right about being stronger. She cupped her hands together, and he instantly stepped into them, hurling himself onto the bank. Over the roar of the mudslide—louder every second—she said, “Come on, Harp! Now!”

Harp took the step after that, reaching for Chassellon’s outstretched hands as he pulled her onto the bank. Then he lunged forward, desperately reaching for Leia—

The wave hit her as hard as anything solid, as hard as a tree or a wall. The breath left her lungs; the light left her eyes. Her body tumbled over and over, surrounded and suffocated by heavy mud rushing along at incredible speed. She felt as if death itself had swallowed her whole.

Pathfinder training kicked in. Squeezing her eyes shut, Leia forced her hand down to her belt, where she hit the field generator. She heard a horrible slurping, liquid sound all around her—then startled as the mud popped out to the edge of the field, leaving her bobbing in an energy bubble. By the dim light at her belt, Leia could make out the swirls and ooze of the mud rushing by.

Although panic tugged at the edges of her consciousness, she managed to keep her body still; the bubble was strong but not impermeable, and thrashing around could compromise the field’s integrity. She had to trust it. Air is lighter than mud. Lightness rises and heaviness falls. Wait it out.

But there’s only so much air in this bubble—

Light slowly began to filter in, then burst upon her in a rush as the bubble surfaced. bobbing within it, Leia rolled sideways toward the nearest dry land, or what passed for it on Chandrila’s marshes. Once she saw wet, flattened grass beneath her, she turned off the field generator and flopped onto the ground like a caught fish. Her breaths came too quickly in her chest, and mud covered nearly every millimeter of her body. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was to lie here, not moving, preferably forever.

From a distance she heard her name being called. After another few moments, she regained enough energy to care, and to recognize the voices.

“Leia?” Harp was very nearly screaming. “Leia?”

“Your Highness!” Chassellon had pitched his voice to carry, a surprisingly deep, booming shout. “We’re looking for you! If you can hear us, let us know where you are!”

After a couple of tries, Leia was able to take a deep enough breath to cry back, “Here!”

They ran up to her moments later, each of them so obviously terrified that Leia almost wanted to laugh. “Field generator,” she said, coughing once. “Remember?”

Harp collapsed by Leia’s side. “I forgot all about it.”

“You won’t next time,” Leia pointed out, then had to cough again. Maybe she’d swallowed a little mud at the beginning.

Chassellon pulled himself together almost instantly, and held out his hand to Leia, courtly and formal. “Will you rise, my lady?” Usually she found his emphasis on her royal status irritating, but today it felt comforting, like being wrApped in a familiar blanket. Leia let him pull her to her feet. Although the world tilted oddly at first, she soon regained her balance. Wet mud slithered down her body, and Chassellon put his free hand to his chest. “Your royal robes are stunning, Your Highness. Designer?”

She laughed again. “One of a kind.”

They belatedly made it to the rendezvous point, so late that Chief Pangie and the others had begun assembling a search party. Kier went to Leia immediately, gathering her in his arms. So much for being discreet, she thought, although at the moment she couldn’t care.

Chassellon’s temper had returned, and this time it was directed squarely at the chief. “This is ridiculous! Harp gets injured on Alderaan, Leia and Kier nearly fall to their deaths on Felucia, and now this? Pathfinding’s supposed to be a learning experience, not survival of the fittest!”

Chief Pangie just shook her head. “Field generators, Stevis. You’re supposed to use the field generators so that nobody gets hurt. You have to remember that.”

“Or else what?” Chassellon retorted. “We die?”

“Exactly.” The chief let the word hang in the shocked silence that followed, until she continued in a quieter, more serious tone than Leia had ever heard from her. “Pathfinding can be dangerous. Every single one of you knew that before you began. Every single one of you thought that danger somehow didn’t Apply to you, because you’re young and stupid about that kind of thing. You have to learn better, and I’d rather you learned it out here with your field generators to save you, than somewhere else in the galaxy where you get no safety net, no teammates, and no second chances. Pathfinding isn’t just about learning how to find your way around. It’s about learning how to think on your feet. How to deal with real risks. Even how to face the fear of death.”

Did my parents realize this? Leia wondered, before deciding that of course they had.

In the circle of her classmates, everyone remained hushed and subdued—Harp pale and shaky, Sssamm with his head hanging low, Chassellon unexpectedly solemn—except for pink-haired Amilyn Holdo, who grinned and said, “I knew it!”

Originally Leia had planned on returning to Coruscant with the others, but after her tumble through the mudslide, she felt the need to go back home at least for a night or two.

“I could come with you, if you want.” Kier held one of her hands in both of his as they stood at the spaceport. The class’s transport sat a few meters away, their friends already climbing aboard. “Look after you on the way back. Then we could return to Coruscant together.”

“It’s all right. Honestly, I’m exhausted. I just want to sleep.” Which was true—if not the whole truth. Leia wasn’t so shaken by her experience that she’d failed to see an opportunity, one she wasn’t yet ready to share with anybody else, even Kier.

“If you’re sure,” Kier said. When she nodded, he kissed her forehead once, brushed his thumb along her cheek, and headed off to the transport.

Leia didn’t have to wait on her own very long. The Polestar arrived promptly, with Ress Batten alone at the helm. Batten hurried out to greet her, then frowned. “You look fine. I was told you’d been in mortal peril, and this is, what, slightly mussed hair?”

“You should’ve seen me before I washed up.” Even though she’d changed back into her dark blue traveling gown and now looked almost as polished as 2V could wish for, Leia’s skin still itched from the mere memory of mud. “Come on, let’s go.”

They took off from the surface of Chandrila without more than half a dozen extra words exchanged between them. Never had Batten mentioned their voyage to Crait, but Leia could sense the knowledge between them at times, a silence more energizing than intimidating. Although she wasn’t certain how to read Batten’s reaction, it certainly wasn’t disApproval, or fear.

Hopefully it was curiosity.

“So,” Leia began, a few minutes before they would make the jump to hyperspace, “would you say that we’ve—taken some interesting trips together?”

Batten shook her head. “They’ve been pretty dull, really. Average. Everyday. Humdrum.”

“Humdrum. Like that run to Crait.”

“So boring.”

Leia made sure to look down at the console, not at Batten’s face, as she said, “On the way home—I was thinking—if it wouldn’t take too long, maybe we could take another boring trip. Something completely average.”

“Oh, yeah?” The note of pure anticipation in Ress Batten’s voice made Leia look up to see the older woman’s grin. “Turns out I could use a little more humdrum in my life.”

She wants this, Leia thought. She knows this is action against the Empire, and she wants in. How many others must be ready, willing, even eager to join us as soon as we speak the word?

To Batten she said only, “The Paucris Major system. No landings this time—distance observation only. And let’s leave it off the logs.”

“Your Highness, I like the way you think.”

As the Polestar hurtled through the blue shimmer of hyperspace, Leia lay back on one of the long couches. Adrenaline battled with exhaustion and won—barely—as she counted through the possibilities. Batten’s probably a good candidate to join us someday. Chassellon Stevis? Maybe not as bad as he seems at first, but still, he’d report us in a heartbeat. Amilyn Holdo…Leia frowned. By now she genuinely liked Amilyn and believed her to have noble ideals, but that didn’t change the fact that the girl seemed highly unlikely to be useful in a crisis situation.

Thinking of Kier made her smile. Of course Kier would want to play a role. She hadn’t forgotten his concerns about protecting Alderaan, but lots of planets were joining forces now. He loathed the Emperor and was braver about speaking out than most. When they took action, he’d be by their side.

“Coming out of hyperspace in a moment, Your Highness,” Batten called back to Leia.

When she stood up, Leia felt another wave of tiredness hit her. She reminded herself of the bed waiting for her back on Alderaan. It wouldn’t be long now. They were only here to take a few scans of the system. To her it seemed no more than feeling out the dimensions of what her parents were planning, getting an idea of scope and scale that would let her know what to prepare for. Would they be going after targets like Calderos Station? Trying to persuade more ships to defect?

The small shudder that went through the Polestar meant they were back in realspace. Leia joined Ress Batten in the cockpit and found her already running scans. “You sure are interested in this boring planet,” she said.

But Batten had lost interest in the joke. “Oh, kriff,” she said as data scrolled by her. “Kriffing kriff.”

“What? There aren’t—is the Empire—”

“No, that’s not it.” Batten brought up a visual on the screen. “Look at this.”

The scans hadn’t even touched the planet’s surface; instead, they focused on what floated in orbit. Dozens of larger ships, from midsized transports to enormous planetary battleships, were tethered to spindly deep-space repair stations, no doubt by tractor beams. Some of the ships were newer, but most looked old—though Leia could tell they were being repaired. No. Refurbished. Kier had shown her enough of his Clone Wars historical materials for her to recognize that some of the planetary ships dated from that era, but they now sported newer, top-of-the-line engines.

“They’re fixing them up,” Batten said, more to herself than to Leia. “Getting them ready.”

Up until this moment, Leia had believed her parents would support strike attacks. Controlled, directed military action, nothing like the terrorist acts of Saw Gerrera. Resistance to Palpatine’s forces, maybe defense for those most directly endangered. Pressure that would force the Emperor to listen, to moderate, maybe even to abdicate.

She’d been fooling herself.

Looking out at the sheer scope of the armada in front of her, Leia finally understood that her parents were preparing to go to war.

星球大战