Sohna - The Star Kingdom

The screeching sound of breaking glass and heart-wrenching disorientation was absolutely identical to the mirror journey between Wendell’s palace and New York. In fact, it was so identical that Virginia half-expected to step out onto the bare ground of Central Park, and had to remind herself to expect hard pavement. But when they finally stumbled out, it was onto plush, grey tweed carpet in a dust-free room replete with the sharp tang of an ozone emitter, no doubt to keep the air cleansed of the pollutants generated by a planet-covering city.

She looked up as Wolf steadied himself beside her, and they both glanced around, their curiosity turning quickly to alarm. The black lacquered furniture and blood-red walls were too familiar for comfort. They had arrived in Palpatine’s office.

Wolf grabbed Virginia by the arms and shoved her unceremoniously behind him, and she was terrified enough to allow it. But only for a moment.

“Wolf ...” she murmured.

“You stay here, Virginia,” he whispered. “I’ll ...”

“No,” she managed to whisper, grabbing him by the arm. “That was not in our deal. Remember?” She did not want to rehash the argument she’d had with him at Wendell’s palace the first night they’d gotten there when she’d discovered he intended to save Anakin all by himself (well, because she was pregnant and therefore presumably incapable).

He scrunched his face up “Ooooohhhh ...” he whispered, clearly pained at having had to make the concession.

“Shh!” she ordered, then added pessimistically in a hushed tone, “If he’s here, he probably knows we’re here already.”

“Then why are we still whispering?”

Without answering, she tiptoed to the doorway and peered around the jamb. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed gray light outside with a few hover-vehicles passing and silvery buildings in the distance. But the inner office itself - the one where Mace Windu and the other masters had confronted him (would confront him?) was empty. The thought made her glance involuntarily down at the floor beneath her and she shrank back, realizing that she stood where the three unsuspecting Jedi would fall. She bumped into Wolf.

“What ...?” he began, but she cut him off.

“He’s not here,” she whispered tersely, turning to head back through the connecting chamber to the public office. But what she saw stopped her cold.

In the movie, there had been a creepy wall sculpture hanging in the small lounge - the room where Palpatine had at last revealed his true nature to Anakin. But here - in reality (though Virginia had a hard time thinking of it that way) - it was a large mirror, similar in size and weight (and function, she supposed, as they had been diverted here) to the traveling mirror, but with a frame that, although it never actually moved, seemed to twist and writhe, far more disturbing than its theatrical replacement.

“They do have traveling mirrors,” she heard Wolf say in her ear.

They stared at their reflections a moment more, until Virginia remembered the control rod in her pocket. She drew it out and clicked it once to shut off the portal. The oddly framed mirror before them stared blankly back.

Palpatine’s public office was equally devoid of life and they hurried across it to the door, which gave onto a (comparatively) small reception area, also thankfully vacant.

“That’s odd,” Virginia remarked.

“What?”

“No secretary,” she elaborated. “This is obviously his secretary’s desk - or the receptionist’s or whatever it’s called here. Whether he’s here or not, someone should be here. Maybe several people.”

“Huff puff,” he exclaimed. “It’s a good thing for us they’re not!”

“I know, I know,” she agreed as they swept across the room to the door. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

The door gave onto a small vestibule that looked - finally - out into a hallway which curved away from them in both directions, not unusual, given that the building they were in was round, Virginia thought. At random, she turned left and started walking, Wolf just behind her.

They’d gone for quite a distance, past a good number of closed doors and several junctions, without encountering a soul or hearing any sound other than the white noise of the air conditioner, even their own footsteps muted out by the carpet. Virginia was just wondering if the building had been evacuated when they heard the sound of labored breathing from a junction just ahead, and they stopped, waiting.

The being that emerged had a blue head and three funnels, or possibly short tentacles, of varying sizes sprouting from the crown of its head.

“Oh, my!” it exclaimed, giving a loud honk from one of the funnels, all of which were busy huffing and puffing with exertion. “Goodness, excuse me! I’m not as young as I used to be. Can’t run around like this anymore. Did I miss the whole thing?”

Virginia and Wolf looked at each other. “Um ...” Virginia began, then plunged in, “What thing?” Its eyes bulged, and for a moment, she wondered if they, too, would extend out on stalks, but the creature recovered quickly and replied, “The Jedi rescuing the Chancellor! It was all over the holovid. I don’t see how you could have missed it! They were going to land and last I heard the ship was on fire and out of control. Did he make it? Do you know?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Wolf exclaimed. “He’s the best star pilot in the galaxy! What a landing!”

Virginia jabbed him in the ribs, hard.

“You don’t know that,” she said pointedly. To the alien, she added, “We didn’t actually see anything. He’s just such a great fan of the Jedi, that’s all.”

The alien regarded her dubiously (at least, she thought it looked dubious. It was difficult to tell since she’d never seen anyone like it before), and stared at Wolf wordlessly, breathing still stentorian.

“You wouldn’t know how to get to the landing platform, would you?” she asked, an idea coming to her. “The one the Chancellor is coming in on?”

The eyes shifted back to her as Wolf blurted, “Oh, that’s a GREAT idea, Virginia!”

“As a matter of fact, I was headed there myself,” the alien admitted. “It’s this way.”

It started off down the corridor in the direction they’d been headed and they followed, although it was clear that Wolf was unhappy with how slow it was walking. Even as pregnant as Virginia was, she was finding its pace quite slow. But they hadn’t gone more than thirty feet before the old alien stopped again, its three head pipes wheezing, and leaned against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Virginia asked, wondering what she could possibly do if it needed some kind of first aid. Not only did she have no idea how to administer it, she had no clue of how to call for emergency help, either. But it merely waved a four-digit hand.

“Just ... just ... old, I’m ... afraid,” it told her. “And ... very out ... of shape.”

It huffed and puffed a few more minutes, trying to catch its breath while Wolf fidgeted behind her, then pointed down the corridor.

“Down there, the first pod,” it said.

She stared at it blankly.

“On the left,” it elaborated. “About sixty-five more paces.” “Thank you, sir,” Wolf said, bowing slightly and pulling on Virginia’s arm.

Reluctantly, she followed, glancing worriedly back at the out-of-breath alien.

“...sixty-four, sixty-five. Here it is,” her husband announced, stopping and studying the closed door to their left.

“Are you sure we should have left it? What if it has a heart attack or something?” she asked.

“Gee, Virginia, you’re such a soft touch!” he exclaimed. “But how could we help him if he did? Besides, we came to help Anakin and Padme, and we’re going to miss them if we stop to help everybody we meet.”

He sounded terribly calculating to her, but she had to admit she’d wondered herself what help she could have been. Still, she stared back the way they’d come, but the curve of the corridor hid the old alien from view.

Her husband huffed.

“I need an Artoo,” he declared, staring at the buttons and outlets next to the door panel. He looked at her. “Stand back a little bit.”

She took a step back, and Wolf slapped the greenish-colored button near the top of the display panel, snatching his hand away with lightning speed. But he’d chosen well; the door whooshed open for them, revealing a familiar-looking hypostile concourse with tiny specks of daylight showing at the opposite end. The air took on a vaguely metallic tang, a clue that the room was open to the outside, though the temperature remained steady.

They headed out, and Virginia had to grab Wolf’s arm now, to slow him down to a speed she could manage. But it didn’t take them long to discover that the platform was as devoid of life as most of the building had been.

“Are we too early?” Virginia asked hopefully, but Wolf shook his head.

“There were all those people waiting for him, remember?” he said. “All those reporters should be here.”

“Well, we can’t be too late,” she protested. “No one was inside.”

They stepped out onto the deck. A plume of black smoke was visible in the distance, behind a line of buildings.

“You don’t think they really did crash?” she asked, clutching Wolf’s arm.

“Nah,” he said, dismissing the idea. Then she felt him stiffen.

“What?” she asked, and then she saw it.

To their right, on the next landing deck over, just barely visible at the curve of the building, a large gathering of people was greeting a newly arrived hover-bus. They were on the wrong platform.