Star Wars: The Courtship of Princess Leia Read online

  Rave reviews for previous Star Wars® adventures:

  HEIR TO THE EMPIRE

  “MOVES WITH A SPEED-OF-LIGHT PACE THAT CAPTURES THE SPIRIT OF THE MOVIE TRILOGY SO WELL, YOU CAN ALMOST HEAR JOHN WILLIAMS’S SOUNDTRACK.”

  —The Providence Sunday Journal

  “A SPLENDIDLY EXCITING NOVEL … READ AND ENJOY, THE MAGIC IS BACK.”

  —Nashville Banner

  “CHOCK FULL OF ALL THE GOOD STUFF YOU’VE COME TO EXPECT FROM A BATTLE OF GOOD AGAINST EVIL.”

  —New York, Daily News

  DARK FORCE RISING

  “CONTINUES [ZAHN’S] REMARKABLE EXTRAPOLATION FROM GEORGE LUCAS’S TRILOGY.”

  —Chicago Sun-Times

  “ZAHN HAS PERFECTLY CAPTURED THE PACE AND FLAVOR OF THE STAR WARS MOVIES. THIS IS SPACE OPERA AT ITS BEST.”

  —Sunday Oklahoman

  THE LAST COMMAND

  “INTELLIGENT, FAST-PACED FUN, A WORTHY CONCLUSION TO THE TRILOGY.”

  —Chicago Sun-Times

  “FILLED WITH CHARACTERISTIC STAR WARS TECHNOLOGY AND COSMIC BATTLES … THE DETAIL AND PLOT DEVELOPMENT FAR EXCEED WHAT ARE POSSIBLE IN A TWO-HOUR MOVIE.”

  —The Indianapolis Star

  “ZAHN HAS BEEN FAITHFUL TO THE REGULAR CHARACTERS, CAPTURING THE NUANCES OF THEIR PERSONALITIES TO THE POINT THAT READING THE BOOKS IS LIKE WATCHING THE MOVIES AGAIN AND AGAIN.… SIT BACK WITH THIS BOOK AND SAVOR THE FUN AND EXCITEMENT. IT MOVES AT THE PACE OF A STAR DESTROYER IN HYPERSPACE.”

  —The Flint Journal

  This edition contains the complete text

  of the original hardcover edition.

  NOT ONE WORD HAS BEEN OMITTED.

  STAR WARS: THE COURTSHIP OF PRINCESS LEIA

  A Bantam Spectra Book

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Bantam hardcover edition published May 1994

  Bantam paperback edition / May 1995

  SPECTRA and the portrayal of a boxed “s” are trademarks of

  Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  ®, TM & © 1994 by Lucasfilm Ltd. All Rights Reserved. Used

  Under Authorization.

  Cover art by Drew Struzan © 1995 by Lucasfilm Ltd.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-79628-8

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1745 Broadway, New York, New York 10019.

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Also by This Author

  Introduction to the Star Wars Expanded Universe

  Excerpt from Star Wars: Tatooine Ghost

  Introduction to the Old Republic Era

  Introduction to the Rise of the Empire Era

  Introduction to the Rebellion Era

  Introduction to the New Republic Era

  Introduction to the New Jedi Order Era

  Introduction to the Legacy Era

  Star Wars Novels Timeline

  Chapter

  1

  General Han Solo stood at the command console viewport of the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser Mon Remonda. Warning sounds tinkled like wind chimes as the ship prepared to drop out of hyperspace at the New Republic’s capital on Coruscant. It had been so long since Han had last seen Leia: five months, five months hunting the warlord Zsinj’s Super Star Destroyer, Iron Fist. Five months ago, the New Republic had seemed so secure, so in control. Maybe now, with the Iron Fist gone, warlord Zsinj would be crippled and things would go smoother. Han longed to get off the humid Calamarian ship, longed even more for the taste of Leia’s kisses, the caress of her hand on his brow. He’d seen too much darkness lately.

  The white starfield on the screen resolved as the hyperdrive engines cut, and Chewbacca roared in alarm: across the blue velvet of space where the city night lights of Coruscant blazed from a dark world were dozens of enormous, saucer-shaped starships that Han recognized immediately as Hapan Battle Dragons. Among them were dozens of slate gray Imperial Star Destroyers.

  “Get us out of here!” Han shouted. He’d seen a Hapan Battle Dragon only once before, but it had been enough. “Full shields! Evasive action!”

  He watched the three dorsal ion guns of the nearest Dragon, expecting them to knock him from the sky. The blaster turrets on the saucer’s rim all swiveled toward him.

  The Mon Remonda twisted and dove planetward, toward the lights of Coruscant. Han’s stomach wrenched. His Mon Calamari pilot was well schooled, and knowing that they could not run before setting a new course, he surged into the thick of the Hapan warships so that they could not fire without the risk of hitting one another.

  Like all the technology on the Mon Calamari ship, the viewport was exceptional, a work of art, so that as they hurtled past the command port of a Hapan Battle Dragon, Han could make out the startled faces of three Hapan officers, the silver name tags sewn into their collars. Han had never seen a Hapan. Their star sector was renowned for its wealth, and the Hapans guarded their borders jealously. He’d known that they were human—for humans had scattered like weeds across the galaxy—but he was surprised to discover that without exception, all three of the female officers were astonishingly beautiful—like fragile, living ornaments.

  “Cease evasive action!” shouted Captain Onoma, a salmon-colored Calamarian officer who sat at a control console, monitoring sensors.

  “What?” Han shouted, surprised that the lower-ranked Calamarian would reverse his orders.

  “The Hapans are not firing, and they are broadcasting as friendlies,” Onoma answered, swiveling a large golden eye at Han. The Calamarian cruiser ceased its crazy headlong dive and slowed.

  “Friendlies?” Han asked. “They’re Hapans! Hapans are never friendly!”

  “Nevertheless, they’ve apparently come to negotiate a treaty of some sort with the New Republic. The accompanying Star Destroyers are theirs, captured from the Imperials. As you can see, our planetary defense forces are still intact.” Captain Onoma nodded up toward a Star Destroyer in another quadrant, and Han recognized its markings. Leia’s flagship, the Rebel Dream. It had seemed so huge, so vast when they’d captured it from the Imperials, but here beside this Hapan fleet, it looked small, insignificant. Huddled around the Rebel Dream, he saw a dozen smaller Republic Dreadnaughts, their hulls still painted with the markings of the old Rebel Alliance.

  The first time Han had seen a Hapan warship, he had been smuggling guns with a small convoy fleet under the comm
and of Captain Rula. Since the Hapans hadn’t yet fallen to the Empire, the smugglers had been using an outpost in neutral territory near the borders of the Hapan star cluster, hoping that their proximity to the Hapans would keep the Empire off their back. But one day they came out of hyperspace and found a Hapan Battle Dragon hovering in their path. Even though they were in neutral territory, even though they made no aggressive moves, only three of the twenty smuggler ships managed to survive the Hapan attack.

  A communications officer said, “General Solo, we’re receiving a call from Ambassador Leia Organa.”

  “I’ll go to my quarters and pick it up there,” Han said, and he hurried to punch up the call. Leia’s image appeared on the small screen.

  Leia was smiling, euphoric, and her dark eyes had a dreamy look to them. “Oh, Han,” she said in a breath, her voice mellifluous. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She wore the pure white uniform of an Alderaanian ambassador, and her hair was down. In the past months it had grown longer than Han had ever seen it. In her hair she wore the combs he had given her, made from silver and opal mined on Alderaan before Grand Moff Tarkin blasted the planet to cinders with the first Death Star.

  “I missed you, too,” Han said huskily.

  “Come down to Coruscant, to the Grand Reception Hall,” Leia said. “The Hapan ambassadors are about to arrive.”

  “What do they want?”

  “It’s not what they want, it’s what they’re offering. I went to Hapes and spoke with the queen mother three months ago,” Leia said. “I asked her for aid in our fight against Warlord Zsinj. She seemed very distant, noncommittal, but promised to think about it. I can only guess they’ve come to give that aid.”

  Lately, Han had begun to realize that the war against the remnants of the Empire might take years, even decades to win. Zsinj and some lesser warlords were firmly entrenched in over a third of the galaxy, but the warlords now seemed to be on the move—pillaging entire star systems as they swept toward the free worlds. The New Republic could not patrol such a vast front. Just as the old Empire had struggled to repel the Rebel Alliance, the New Republic battled the might of the warlords and their vast fleets. Han didn’t want Leia to get her hopes raised for a Hapan alliance. He said, “Don’t expect too much from the Hapans. I’ve never heard of them giving anyone anything—except a hard time.”

  “You don’t even know them. Just come to the Grand Reception Hall,” Leia said, suddenly all business. “Oh, and welcome back.” She turned away. The transmission ended.

  “Yeah,” Han whispered. “I missed you, too.”

  • • •

  Han and Chewbacca hurried through the streets toward the Grand Reception Hall on Coruscant. They were in an ancient part of Coruscant where the planetwide city had not built over the top of ruins, so that all around them plasteel buildings rose up like the walls of a canyon. The shadows thrown by the steep buildings were so deep that overhead the shuttles streaming through the spaces between buildings were forced to keep their running lights on even in the daytime, creating a massive tapestry of light. By the time Han and Chewie reached the Grand Reception Hall, the processional band was already playing an oddly mincing marching song, using janglers and deep woot horns.

  The Grand Reception Hall was an enormous building, more than a thousand meters long, with fourteen levels for seating, but as Han neared the entrance, he found that all of the portals were jammed with curious onlookers, eager to see the Hapans. Han ran past the first five entrances, then suddenly saw a golden protocol droid nervously trying to jump or stand on tiptoe to see over the crowd. Many people claimed that all droids of a certain model looked alike, but Han recognized See-Threepio instantly—no other protocol unit ever managed to look quite as nervous or excited.

  “Threepio, you hunk of tin!” Han shouted to be heard over the crowd. Chewbacca roared in greeting.

  “General Solo!” Threepio responded, a note of relief in his voice. “Princess Leia asked that I find you and escort you to the Alderaanian ambassador’s balcony. I was afraid I’d missed you in the crowd! You’re fortunate that I had the foresight to wait for you here. This way, sir, this way!” Threepio led them back across a broad street and up a side ramp, past several guards.

  As they climbed a long winding corridor, passing door after door, Chewbacca sniffed the air and growled. They rounded the corner and Threepio halted by a balcony entrance. Within, only a few people stood looking through the glass onto the procession below. Han recognized some of them: Carlist Rieekan, the Alderaanian general who had commanded Hoth base; Threkin Horm, president of the powerful Alderaanian Council, an immensely fat man who rested in a repulsor chair rather than try to carry his own weight. And Mon Mothma, commander of the New Republic, stood next to a bearded gray Gotal, who gazed dispassionately toward the main floor, head tilted, aiming his sensor horns in Leia’s direction.

  The diplomats were all speaking softly, listening to comlinks and watching Leia, who sat on a dais, regally gazing on a Hapan diplomatic shuttle that had landed on a pad built within the great open-air hall. Perhaps five hundred thousand beings had gathered on the main floors, eager to catch a glimpse of the Hapans. Tens of thousands of security guards had cleared the gold carpet between the shuttle and Leia, and Han looked up to the balconies. Nearly every star system in the old Empire had had its own balcony here, and beside each balcony was the nation’s standard. Over six hundred thousand of those standards hung now on the ancient marble walls, showing the membership of the New Republic. Down on the floor, silence fell as the shuttle dropped its loading ramps.

  Han went to Mon Mothma. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why aren’t you down on the dais with Leia?”

  “I was not invited to meet the Hapan ambassadors,” Mon Mothma replied. “They asked only to see Leia. Since even the Old Republic had very limited contact with Hapan’s monarchs over the past three thousand years, I felt it best to remain aloof until invited.”

  “That’s very considerate,” Han said, “but you are the elected leader of the New Republic—”

  “And Queen Mother Ta’a Chume feels threatened by our democratic ways. No, I think it best that Ta’a Chume’s ambassadors speak through Leia, if she makes them feel more comfortable. Have you counted the number of Battle Dragons in the Hapan fleet? There are sixty-three—one for each inhabited planet in the Hapes cluster. Never have the Hapans initiated contact with us on such a grand scale. I suspect that this is to be the most important contact our peoples have made in the past three millennia.”

  Han would not say it, but he felt slighted at not being seated by Leia’s side. The fact that Mon Mothma had been similarly treated added to the offense. They waited only a moment before the Hapans began to disembark.

  First from the shuttle came a woman with long dark hair and onyx eyes that glittered in the lights. She wore a light dress of peach-colored shimmering material that left her long legs exposed. Microphones on the floor fed into the balcony, and Han could hear a sigh pass through the crowd as the beautiful woman made her way up the promenade.

  She approached Leia and dropped gracefully to one knee, keeping her eyes on Leia. In a strong voice she spoke in Hapan, “Ellene sellibeth e Ta’a Chume. ‘Shakal Leia, ereneseth a’apelle seranel Hapes. Rennithelle saroon.’ ” She turned and clapped her hands six times, and dozens of women in shimmering gold dresses began descending from the shuttle, running quickly and playing silver flutes or drums while others sang over and over in clear high voices, “Hapes, Hapes, Hapes.”

  Mon Mothma listened intently to her comlink as a translator broadcast the words in Basic, but Han couldn’t hear the translator.

  “Do you speak this stuff?” Han asked Threepio.

  “I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, sir,” Threepio said regretfully, “but I think I must be experiencing a malfunction. The Hapan ambassador cannot have said what I heard.” He turned and started to walk off. “Darn these rusty logic circuits! Excuse me while I report for
repairs.”

  “Wait!” Han said. “Forget about the repairs. What did she say?”

  “Sir, I think I must have misunderstood,” Threepio said.

  “Tell me!” Han added more forcefully and Chewbacca growled a warning.

  “Well, if you’re going to be that way about it!” Threepio affected a hurt tone. “If my sensors monitored her correctly, the delegate reported the words of the great queen mother: ‘Worthy Leia, I offer gifts from the sixty-three worlds of Hapes. Take joy in them.’ ”

  “Gifts?” Han said. “That sounds pretty straightforward to me.”

  “Indeed it is. The Hapans never ask a favor without offering a gift of equal value first,” Threepio said condescendingly. “No, what troubles me is the use of the word shakal, ‘worthy.’ The queen mother would never apply that word to Leia, for the Hapans use it only when speaking to equals.”

  “Well,” Han hazarded a guess, “they are both royalty.”

  “True,” Threepio said, “but the Hapans practically worship their queen mother. Indeed, one of their names for her is Ereneda, ‘she who has no equal.’ So you see, it would not be logical for the queen mother to refer to Leia as her equal.”

  Han looked back down to the unloading ramp and shivered as a sense of foreboding washed through him. The sounds of drums thundered. Three women in bright, almost garish silks rushed from the shuttle bearing a large container the color of mother-of-pearl. Threepio still spoke to himself, shaking his head and saying “I really must have these logic circuits repaired,” as the three women spilled the contents onto the floor. The whole crowd gasped. “Rainbow gems from Gallinore!”

  The gems glittered with their own fire in dozens of shades from brilliant cardinal to blazing emerald. Indeed, the invaluable gems were not gems at all, but a silicon-based life form that glowed with its own brilliant inner light. The creatures, often worn on medallions, matured only after thousands of years. One gem could buy a Calamarian cruiser, yet the Hapans had thrown hundreds of mated pairs to the floor. Leia showed no surprise.