One Thousand Levels Down

  As the crowd grew, the Mon Calamari pointed to the strangers one by one, naming species and planets Anandra barely knew – names she’d only heard mentioned in muted asides. Then finally, he pointed to her.

  “Alderaanian,” he said. “Empire takes. But here, we all share.”

  And whether because of the Mon Calamari’s words, or the sad, strained gazes of the people behind him, or the sheer extent of her exhaustion, Anandra dropped her gun and began to weep.

  Santigo squeezed her arm again, and Anandra cried like her mother had cried during the riots; she cried without dignity or reason, cried until her nose streamed and strangers guided her into the warmth and safety of the hull. Santigo clung to her, and when she could speak and reason and act again, she helped her hosts prepare a meal, found a place for her brother to rest and eat.

  She knew she would have questions tomorrow. She would need to learn how these people lived, what they hoped for. She would need to share news from the upper levels. She would need to decide whether to give up her blaster or use it against the Empire.

  But that night, she could put those concerns aside. That night, she’d found home and family in the depths of Coruscant.

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  From Star Wars Insider 151 (08-09-2014)

  11.6.18.15.14.5-1