Tales of the Gold Wookie, Part 1

The young woman stood in front of the wide walnut desk, looking every inch the fresh-scrubbed young professor just out of college in her white suit and flower-trimmed cloche hat. Her shoulder-length, russet-brown curls bounced with every word. “Dr. Mothma, I'm sure I'm ready for a real field assignment. I graduated at the top of my class last year. I got the highest scores on the final exams in the history of UCLA. My work since then with Professor Dodonna has been nothing short of exemplary.”

“Leia Skylark,” the tall, elegant red-haired woman in the gold and white suit began, “I am aware of your work with Dodonna. I'm also aware that you were mostly a glorified secretary, and even then, you antagonized several members of the crew with your temper and your views on the political situation in Europe and Asia.”

Leia wrinkled her snub nose in annoyance. “The office boys started it.”

“You didn't have to finish it.” Dr. Mothma finally pulled out a manila envelope, handing her a large photo. “Do you recognize this?”

She sucked in her breath in surprise. “It's one of the Swords of Alderaan.” The photo showed a long, flat object, obviously made from some kind of sharp rock or crystal. It gleamed, even in the black and white photo. The hilt was meticulously etched gold. “The Sword of Light. I thought it disappeared with the Sword of Wisdom twenty years ago.”

Her boss shook her head. “That's what we thought, too.” She gathered her papers. “It was recently seen in the private collection of General Pietr Tarkin. He's one of the top military advisers in the Empire, and he's said to be very interested in ancient weaponry.”

Leia narrowed her eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? I've heard Tarkin's been buying every so-called mystical artifact he thinks will give the Empire more power.” She clenched a fist. “Tarkin claims they're doing the world a favor, clearing out anything that's undesirable. They're really bullies. Them and the Nazis. What they did in North Africa and Eastern Europe alone...”

Dr. Mothma put up a hand, stopping the young woman in mid-sentence. “We're all familiar with your opinions on the Empire, Miss Skylark.” She gave the girl an inquisitive smile. “You're something of a specialist when it comes to the lost Kingdom of Alderaan.”

Leia's grin lit up her round, plump-cheeked face. “I could discuss this for hours. I did my thesis on it, in fact. Alderaan was a small country in Central America, with its own culture, architecture, music, and art. Despite their size, they were one of the mightiest and wealthiest kingdoms in Central America. Their treasure was said to be so vast, it took a vault the size of ten skyscrapers to hold it. They flourished through the 17^th century, mainly thanks to the Jedi Order.”

She coughed, then continued. “The Jedi Order was a religious and a military association, lead by the Guardians of Light, Wisdom, and Strength. They defended their borders with the three Swords of Force until the Spanish Conquistadors leveled most of Alderaan in 1579...and it's said, leveled the Jedi along with the rest, although the cult is said to to survive in remote corners of Latin America and Mexico. It's rumored that when the swords are brought together, they'll not only lead the way to the rest of the treasure, but give the bearers immeasurable power. Of course,” she went on with a small smile, “it's also said that each sword gave their owners a different ability, such as telekinesis, mind reading, or super strength, and that if the swords fell into evil hands, it could cause the end of of the world. That's just folk tales.”

“Not entirely.” Dr. Mothma frowned. “Wasn't your godfather Dr. Bail Organa doing research on those 'folk tales' in Guatemala? He was an authority on the Jedi and the stories surrounding them. In fact, he was on a dig in Central America looking for proof of their existence right before his death.”

Leia stiffened. “Papa Bail...Dr. Organa truly believed the stories. Luke and I heard them every night instead of fairy tales when we were little.” When she turned her brown eyes to her boss, the deep, hot rage in them was unmistakable. “He shouldn't have died with a knife in his back. His assistants were killed, too, found with their throats cut in a back alley in Guatemala City. Someone wanted them out of the way.”

“That's what we believe as well.” Dr. Mothma pulled out another photo. Leia gave her boss an inquisitive look. “Tarkin is in Los Angeles to talk to several American defense contractors about equipment for the Empire. He's staying at the home of Derek Vader.”

Leia raised an eyebrow. “The head of Dark Star Industries?”

“Yes. Vader is also known for his interest in Mesopotamian art. Like Tarkin, it's rumored he purchased much of his collection through the black market.” She showed her another photograph, this one of a tall, broad-shouldered, very imposing figure in a black suit, his wide-brimmed hat hiding most of his face.

She leaned over her desk, dropping her voice. “We have reason to believe Tarkin obtained the Sword of Light illegally, probably through the black market.” She shuffled some papers on her desk. “Bail contacted several people, including me, the night he died. He said he had a major find, one that could change the world.” The older woman's face hardened. “We got word two days later that Tarkin had been seen with the Sword in his possession.”

Leia nodded, biting her lip. “Papa Bail called me the night before. He said he was sending me something big from Guatemala, something important. He sounded really worried.” Her eyes were bright and hard. “I think he found the sword and was killed over it.”

“Vader is holding a party to show off some of his collection this afternoon.” She handed Leia a card with fancy script. “I was invited and allowed to bring a guest. I thought you might be interested.”

Leia nodded. “I'm more than interested. This will be the perfect way to get to the bottom of this.”

Dr. Mothma's eyes crinkled into a warm smile. “Your father and mother would have been so proud of you. Andrew Skylark did want at least one of his children to follow in his footsteps. He was a truly great archaeologist. His theories on the Mayan temples in Guatemala were brilliant, if quite unorthodox.”

The younger woman sighed. “I wish I'd known him and Mother. Papa Bail always changed the subject when we asked about them. Uncle Owen and Aunt Bertha won't talk about them at all.”

Dr. Mothma's eyes shown in understanding. “Padama Amidala was a brilliant scholar. She had a good heart. She could never turn anyone away, including your father. Your father was a true maverick. Your brother got his blond good looks, but you have that fire he used to have in his belly.” She raised an eyebrow. “By the way, how is that journalist brother of yours?”

Leia chuckled. “Luke's still an intern for Benton Kenobi. You know, the reporter for the Daily Star? His work during the Great War and in the early 20's was very well-regarded.”

Her boss raised an eyebrow. “I didn't know he was still alive. I heard he had some kind of falling out with his best friend and went underground.”

She shrugged. “My brother holds him in the highest esteem, and he was in Papa Bail and Father's unit during the Great War. He was the one who recommended Luke to him. I haven't really met him, but I've read some of his articles.” She finally shook Dr. Mothma's hand as the older woman stood. “Thank you again, Dr. Mothma. You won't regret this.”

The older woman smiled. “I'm sure I won't.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Luke was waiting for her on the curb outside, leaning against the car they shared. He was giving her one of his big, sunny grins that lit up his whole face. His slightly slouchy tan sweater, old cap, and grease-stained slacks gave away what he'd probably spent most of the morning doing. “Hi, sis!” He put his arm around his sister's shoulder. “Well, did you get it?”

Leia hugged him, trying to avoid the grease. “Yes, she gave me the assignment. It's the one I've been dreaming about, the one Papa Bail dreamed about.”

Luke's grin got even bigger, if that was possible. “Alderaan?”

She nodded, a grin spreading across her own face. “Dr. Mothma wants me to help her find the Swords of the Guardians.” She ruffled his longish sandy hair. “Luke, this could open up a whole new level of possible research on Alderaan and its relationship to Central American culture.”

“That's great!” He squeezed her shoulder. “I want first dibs on the story when you find them! Ben says I'm almost ready for my first assignment.”

Leia sighed. “Luke, I don't understand you. You've been interning with Kenobi for nearly a year. You should have gone on a dozen assignments by now!”

“Leia, I'll get there!” Luke's grin became dreamy. “Just imagine it when I'm the most famous reporter on the Star, and you're one of the most prominent archaeologists in the world! Who'd believe that such a great team came from tiny little Tatoonie, Arizona?”

She shook her head. “Maybe if you kept your head out of the clouds on your eyes on the road, you'd actually get somewhere.”

“I'll get somewhere, someday. It'll happen.” He opened the passenger side door with a flourish. “Ok, Miss Skylark, where do ya want to go today?”

His sister giggled, instantly picking up the game. Luke loved mimicry and was fairly adept at imitations. He could imitate every servant on Papa Bail and Mama Breha's staff, including Artie, their driver and handyman. “I would love to go home. I will be attending a party this afternoon at the home of a very important man, and I have to get ready.”

Luke climbed into the driver's side. “Someone I know?”

The young woman next to him suddenly became very interested in powdering her nose. “Derek Vader.”

“What?” Luke's jaw dropped. “The industrialist?”

She dropped the puff back in her case and snapped it shut. “The very same. General Tarkin is staying at his house. Dr. Mothma and I want to have a talk to him about the Sword of Light.”

“I can't believe you're going to do this!” His voice rose to a near-whine as he just barely missed a car pulling out of an intersection. “You haven't heard the stories Ben told me about Vader.”

“Luke, eyes on the road.”

Her brother pulled back just in time to avoid hitting the motorist in front of him. “Leia, I'm serious! Vader's bad news. If he doesn't like someone, he'll go out of his way to publicly destroy them.”

“Luke, I'll be fine. Dr. Mothma will be there.” She gave him her most reassuring smile. “Besides, I know how to take care of myself.” She pulled a small, snub-nosed pistol out of her purse. “And I still have this.”

“What?” Luke looked at the gun like it might bite him. “Tell me there's no bullets in that.”

“It's fully loaded. I'm not holding the trigger.” She dropped it back in her purse. “A girl has to know how to defend herself. Why do you think I begged Uncle Owen to take both of us on hunting trips?”

“I still don't like it.” He stopped at the apartment they shared near UCLA. “Here you go, sis! Front door service. I'd go in with you, but I have to get back to work. Harry and Charel are coming in today. Harry called from San Francisco yesterday and said the engine on the Silver Falcon might need some work. Something about out-running the Turks over Libya.”

“Again?” Leia rolled her eyes. “Doesn't that boss of yours ever do anything besides fix his engine and haul narcotics and guns and other things that are even less legal?”

Luke immediately leaped to the defense of his best friend. “Hey, he's hauled legal cargo, too! He a nice guy. I think you'd like him, if you gave him a chance.” He patted her hand. “You be careful, all right? I know you, Leia. You'll start some fight, or snoop around, and you'll get into trouble.”

Leia laughed. “Luke, it's just a party. What's the worst that could happen?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Leia was bored. She'd been at the party for over an hour, and while she had seen Tarkin talking to several of his fellow Imperials, she had yet to run into Vader. Vader was a man of mystery. No one knew where he came from, or how he made his money. There were rumors that his real name wasn't even Vader. He was known to be both eccentric and forbidding, his heavily scarred face scaring off most people wanting small talk. Her lacy white afternoon dress and fancy flowered hat were starting to feel confining.

She swore one man kept giving her the eye. He was tall and thin, with a long face with a bony chin and short, curly dark hair. For some reason, he wore sunglasses, even indoors. She didn't like the way he was staring at her...or at least, she assumed he was staring at her, given she couldn't see his eyes. His hand was stuck in the pocket of his sharp green and tan suit. Something about him was making her nervous. Maybe it was the slightly cruel twitch in his mouth, or the way he leaned against the wall like he owned the place. She finally fled the main parlor room, leaving the man and his cruel mouth behind.

She finally ended up in the offices, where Vader's collection was found. The assemblage of artifacts was impressive. Vader himself had paid for the recovery of a good portion of them. It was said Vader was an archaeologist at one point, but had been fired by the University of California for his disruptive behavior on digs, outrageous theories, and tendency to keep what he found, regardless of whom he'd promised it to.

Many of the items came from Alderaan's golden years as Central America's most prosperous kingdom. She counted spears and bows and arrows, shields with colors still bright with pigment, tribal masks, small statues, cups and dishes, colorful pottery. Photos showed the ruins and digs where the items were found. She couldn't help but notice that many of them had holes where something had been removed, and others were missing bits and pieces that had probably been precious stone trim.

One mask in particular seemed to call to her. It looked more like a woman's face, smaller and rounder than the larger masks that flanked it. She ran her fingers over the curved inscription...

“Wisdom.” She gasped, whirling around in surprise. “That's the ceremonial mask for the Guardian of Wisdom.” The man behind her was small and thin, nearly skeletal. He had silvery hair slicked back to a hard shine. His fashionable gray suit and patent leather shoes were rather tight on him. “They were always women.”

Leia nodded. “Alderaan was one of the few Mesopotamian cultures that gave prominent roles in its society to women.”

His smile gave Leia chills. “They were also one of the most powerful cultures in Central America in their time. Their Swords of the Guardians were said to be unstoppable. Each Guardian had their own power, and when brought together, they had the might to bring enemies to their knees.”

Leia snorted. “The Swords were said to grant the users telekinesis, psychic powers, and strength beyond mortal man, if I remember the folk tales correctly. They could also shoot beams of light that were hot enough to destroy whole temples.”

He gave Leia a condescending sideways glance. “Most folk tales have some basis in truth.”

“Exaggerated a bit,” she added. “No weapon could grant that much power.”

“You'd be surprised, dear girl.” He smirked at her. “Wasn't the late Dr. Organa studying those folk tales? I believe he made quite a specialty of them.”

Leia glared at him. “Papa Bail wanted the Swords for the good of mankind. He believed even ordinary people could benefit from studying them.”

“Ordinary people,” Tarkin sniffed, “have no idea how to wield power. Power belongs in the hands of those who truly understand its responsibilities.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Like the Empire?”

He chuckled. “The Empire more than anyone.” The bony hand gently picked up a statue made of a greyish stone, a statue of a warrior with his sword poised over his head, ready for battle. Leia swore there were empty spots on the base, possibly where decoration had once been. “By the way, I'm sorry to hear about Dr. Organa's death. It was quite a tragedy.”

“Yes, it was. They're still investigating.” She looked up at him. “You know, it's very interesting that you just happened to come across the Sword two days after my godfather and his colleagues were killed.”

He snorted. “Coincidence, child.”

“Is it?” She continued to gaze at the mask. “He called me and told me he made a major find the night before he died. It vanished when he did, along with his research and maps.”

Tarkin's sunken eyes seemed to bore into her soul. “I wonder what happened to his research, and the map? They would certainly be helpful with finding the remaining swords.”

Dr. Mothma swept in before Leia could hit him over the head with the damn mask. Her boss had traded her simple white suit for an elegant pale-green afternoon dress and matching green hat. Leia was grateful for her reassuring presence. “Hello, Tarkin. I haven't seen you since you were at the Society for Archaeological Discovery's annual convention in St. Louis two years ago.”

Tarkin's chilly smile was aimed towards his fellow treasure collector. “Hell, Dr. Mothma. It has been a long time. Still teaching young minds how to rob graves?”

“We teach them how to seek the truth.” She gave the assemblage of objects in the room a disparaging glance. “Which is more than you can say. You can't even catalog your collection properly.”

Leia started dusting a small statue of a mother and her child with her handkerchief. Tarkin slapped her hand away. “Vader has people who do that once a month.”

“Oh yes, that reminds me.” Dr. Mothma gave Tarkin her most charming smile. “Where is our host? I did want to ask him about that donation to UCLA's archaeology department he mentioned a few weeks ago.”

“I'm afraid he's indisposed at the moment.” Tarkin shook his head. “He has a rather nasty cold. It wouldn't be polite to spread it to our guests.”

Dr. Mothma sighed. “I suppose not.”

A tall man in the stiff gray uniform of the Empire stepped up to Tarkin. He whispered something in the smaller man's ear. Tarkin nodded and turned to his guests. “I'm so sorry. I'm afraid I'm being called away. Very sudden business. Would you excuse me?” He waved his hands at the room. “And by all means, enjoy our collection.

Dr. Mothma started down the hall. “If Vader's sick, I'm a canary. I saw him skulking down the main hall ten minutes ago, haranguing one of the men in Imperial uniforms about delays on some weapon at the factory.”

Her former pupil looked intrigued. “I wonder what Tarkin's hiding?” Leia looked down the hall. “I think he had Papa Bail and his men killed for his research and whatever it was that he found on that dig.”

Dr. Mothma looked thoughtful. “Didn't Bail send you something important from Guatemala?”

Leia laughed. “Papa Bail always sends Luke and me little gifts when he goes on digs. It's probably just a statue or some earrings or something.”

“I'm not so sure.” Her boss' eyes glittered. “I think he may have sent you his research.”

“Me? Why me?”

“I don't know.” She gave her watch a quick look. “I think we both need to go. Check your mail when you get in. Call me the moment you can get to a phone.”

“Right.” Leia was starting to feel more and more uneasy. She hadn't really thought much about the package Papa Bail had sent her...but now, it seemed to be the crux behind his death and missing discovery.

She was never so grateful to see Artie waiting for her outside with the Packard. Luke had their car, and Mama Breha was spending time with her relatives in Mexico City. Artie was a short, squat man with skin the color of rich cocoa and glossy black curls. They set off his blue and white driver's uniform nicely. He'd been Papa Bail and Mama Breha's driver and handyman for the last twenty years, since right after the war. She normally loved to hear his stories about his childhood in Harlem and his work during the war, but she was too nervous for his chatter today.

He tipped his hat for her. “Where to, lady?” His voice made her giggle. He was such a big man that you expected him to have a booming voice, but it came out more like a nasal beep.

“Our apartment. I have to get home.”

He opened the back passenger's side door. “You ok, kiddo? You don't sound so good. Maybe you need to make some hot lemon tea. My mama always said it's good for what ails ya.”

“Yes, I'll do that.” Actually, tea did sound nice. She was hoping that the awful feeling fluttering around in her stomach was wrong. She knew Papa Bail trusted her...but with something like this? Why didn't he send it to the Archaeology Department? Or the police? Was it really that sensitive? This was all sounding more and more like an Agatha Christie novel. She wondered if she should look for Inspector Poirot snooping around a garden party somewhere.

The moment Artie stopped at her building, she leaped out the door and hurried inside, taking the steps two at a time and ignoring the strange looks from her landlady. She pulled out her key...but the door opened easily.

The three-room apartment she shared with Luke was normally charming, if a bit cramped, with a lovely view of the hills and LA. Someone had worked it over from top to bottom. Pillows were flung off the slightly faded couch. The contents of the icebox and the cabinets were scattered on the floor. The eggs pooled in a mushy mess over the embroidered place mats Mama Breha made them a year ago. Luke's books on journalism and trashy mystery novels and her archaeology textbooks and old copies of National Geographic were flung recklessly on the hardwood floor. The sheets had been yanked off both their beds, the mattresses slashed and the stuffing thrown out. Photos of them with school friends, with Uncle Owen and Aunt Bertha on their farm, and at their high school graduation lay broken on the floor, the shattered glass mingling with the broken lamp from the overturned side table.

She leaned over and picked up her favorite photo of her godfather. He was standing by a ruined temple in Guatemala, looking every inch like the type of adventurer archaeologist who searched for death rays and lost cities in the serials. Bail Organa wore nothing but a pith helmet, a half-opened work shirt, and a pair of slacks. His hair, normally slicked back, was scruffy, and his eyes shined with the light of discovery, even in the black-and-white photo. She missed him so, so much.

“Leia?” She gasped and turned around. Her brother emerged from the bathroom, his tanned face ashen. “Thank god you're all right!” He swept her into his arms for a huge hug. “I came home from work ten minutes ago, and everything looked like this. The bathroom's worse. You don't want to know what they did to the toothpaste.”

“Luke,” she said, trying to control the tremor in her voice, “have you gotten our mail yet?”

Luke's eyebrows raised in confusion. “No, why?”

She started stuffing clothes and the few toiletries that weren't ground into the tiles in her small leather suitcase. “We have to get out of here. The Empire is after me...and now, they're probably after you, too. I have to call Dr. Mothma at UCLA, and you need to call Benton Kenobi.” She stopped and gently removed the photo of Bail from the broken glass before adding that to the pile, along with a photo of her, Luke, Papa Bail, and Mama Breha at their college graduation.

Her brother stood in the middle of the room, blinking. “Leia, what's going on?”

She took his shoulders and directed him towards his own bags. “Start packing. Grab anything important or that you don't want the Empire to know about.”

“Leia, what about my job? What about your job? What about Harry, and Benton Kenobi?”

She sat on her suitcase to close it. “Luke, if this works out, you and Kenobi will have the story of the century! Vader Enterprises is in on this. It was probably his goons who ransacked our apartment. There's a connection between him, Tarkin, and the Swords of the Guardians. I know it.” She looked up as the metal snaps clicked into place. “And it'll be your job to find out just what it is.”

Luke was tossing his own clothes into a brown cloth satchel. “I still don't understand any of this, but if it'll help Ben and me get the drop on Vader...” He shrugged. “I'm all for it.”

She grabbed her purse and suitcase. He picked up his satchel and portable typewriter. “Anybody have to go to the bathroom?” Leia asked with a small grin.

Luke answered back with a grin of his own. “Nope!”

They hurried to their landlady at the reception desk the moment they made it downstairs. “Do you have any mail for me?”

The elderly gray-haired woman handed Leia a wide, long envelope. It was postmarked Guatemala City. She could see her godfather's slightly spidery script. “That's some love letter, hon.”

Leia gave her a nervous smile. “What makes you think it's a love letter?” Luke chuckled and nudged her.

“I keep hopin' for you, hon. For both of you.” The older woman patted her hand. “You're nice children. You really should find some lovely young people who can take care of you.”

“Yes, well, thank you. We need to get going.” Leia didn't really have the time to discuss their love lives. “Please tell anyone who asks that we're on vacation and we'll be gone for at least a month.” Luke was on the phone in the lobby, hopefully talking to Benton Kenobi. As they left, she swore she saw the same man in the black and green suit with the red tie who was at Vader's party watching her through his menacing dark sunglasses. When she looked again after Luke got off the phone, he was gone.

She nearly rolled head-first into the Packard the moment Artie opened the door. Luke followed quickly. “Get us to Alderaan Manor as fast as you can without breaking traffic laws. And step on it. I think we're being watched.”

Artie grinned the moment he put his foot on the gas. If there was one thing he loved, it was excitement. “Somethin' goin' on, kiddo? There been a murder? You saw Clark Gable?”

“I wish it was that simple.” She was pretty certain she could trust Artie. “Our apartment was ransacked. It's a wreck. I think they were looking for this.” She waved the envelope in his face.

Artie grinned. “Nice envelope. Someone really needs to send something?”

Luke frowned. “All this over an envelope?”

“Not the envelope!” She shoved it between her knees. “They're after what's in the envelope. I think Papa Bail sent me his research from Guatemala.”

“He always did say he could trust you, kiddo.” Artie gave her his smile, which was awfully cute for a guy as big as he was. “He used to talk about you like you were his own child. He would have been so proud of you.” Artie nodded at Luke. “You too, boy. I heard you n' Kenobi do some good work for the Star. I don't read any other paper.”

Luke looked surprised. “You know Benton Kenobi?”

“I know a lot of people.” Artie grinned. “Me n' Kenobi, we worked together a few times durin' the Great War.”

Leia's mind wasn't on Artie's words. Her eyes was glued to the back window as the two men chatted. “We're being followed.”

“What?” Artie looked behind him. “Kid, that ain't possible.”

Leia nodded at the huge black-and-green car trailing discreetly behind them. “Tell that to him.”

Artie finally saw the car in the rear view mirror. He let loose with several creative expletives as he turned hard on the wheel. “I'm going to see if we can throw them off our trail.”

The car's occupants ducked as noisy explosions were heard on either side. “Damn it, now they're shooting at us!” She pulled her gun out of her purse and leaned out, exchanging fire. Luke ducked down further in the seat, trying to avoid the gunshots. She could see a man in a huge, heavy white coat and matching white and black hat, his face blurred under the wide brim. His gun was bigger, but at least the white made him an easy target. And, she was amused to note as she hit his arm, he couldn't aim for beans.

“There's a narrow road in the back of the Manor.” Artie made another precarious turn, this time nearly side-swiping two Fords. “It's a service road. Only servants for the mansions and fruit truckers on their way to LA use it.”

“Well, hurry!” Leia looked out the window...then ducked back down when another bullet shattered the glass. “The green car is still after us!”

“Right, kid.” Artie pulled onto a shady, tree-lined road. It was really more like a path. It was paved, but not well. She was grateful Papa Bail sprung for the plush seating, because she was bouncing up and down like a toy sailboat.

Luke's boyish face radiated ten-year-old joy. “That was great! Can we do it again? This is better than the Cyclone Racer!” She rolled her eyes. There were times when she just did not understand her twin brother.

She'd never been so happy to see Alderaan Manor in her entire life. The sprawling Spanish Colonial Revival mansion was one the first built in the subdivision. Papa Bail and Mama Breha snapped it up as soon as it came on the market in the early 30's.

She didn't even wait for Artie to open the door for her before she shoved the envelope under her arm and barreled out. He and Luke followed after her as she dashed into the house, through the screened back door. As she made her way through the halls, she nearly ran straight into Clarence, the tall, thin blond man who had been her godfather's assistant, translator, and personal secretary.

“Miss and Mr. Skylark?” Clarence looked more than a bit surprised. “What are you doing here? Why didn't you call ahead? I'm afraid I have no time for a visit today.” His clipped British accent went up with every syllable. “I'm so busy! Dr. Organa left so much work to do before he died. I must get these papers filed, and I have two articles to write for the American Archaeological Society.”

Leia was already going around the taller man in the natty yellow suit. “Clarence, you wouldn't happen to know if Papa Bail sent anything here? Anything long and thin, in an envelope...” She ducked into the neat, pale-blue office. Clarence liked his office tidy, a marked difference from her godfather. Papa Bail always said his secretary was more like a clucking mother hen than an assistant.

“What are you doing?” His eyes widened as Leia went through her late godfather's desk. “I just organized that yesterday!”

“There's something missing in the notebooks Papa Bail sent me.” She spread out the contents of the envelope on the table. Artie and Luke came in behind her, reading over her shoulder. “The map to where Papa Bail was digging when he died, along with papers detailing his location. He was so secretive about it! He told me he didn't want it to leak out to the press until he brought his discovery home.”

Clarence looked worried. “Dr. Organa did send an envelope here.” He pulled out an impeccably organized drawer in his desk. “I have it here. It is a map.” Clarence waved his hand at the fraying maps in smooth walnut frames on the walls. “I was going to find a suitable frame for it next week.”

“That's not just any older map.” Leia put it together with the papers from her collection. “Papa Bail sent me his notebooks detailing what he found and how he found it, but not where. This is the where.”

“That just leaves why and how,” Artie joked.

“Arthur, please.” Clarence glared at him. “This is serious.”

“That's right.” Luke pulled out his beloved Argus A pocket camera and started moving around the desk, taking photos. “This could make both our careers!”

Artie tapped at the map with his finger. “This is what those guys were shootin' at us for? Some map?”

Leia nodded. “The map leads to the remaining Swords of the Guardians. I'll bet he found at least one, and that's the one that turned up in Tarkin's collection. We have to get it back.”

“Tarkin has one of the Swords of the Guardians?” Clarence's long face dropped. “I heard he was shipping several major archaeological finds to Coruscant. I didn't know that was one of them.”

Luke's grin was nearly as bright as his camera flash. “Ben is going to love this. We'll finally be able to get the goods on Vader.”

“Clarence,” Leia started, “book us on the next commercial flight to Coruscant. I have to find that sword.”

The tall secretary's blue eyes nearly bugged right out of his head. “But Miss Skylark, that's not possible! Coruscant is a military zone. No commercial flight will go there! Not unless they want to get shot down.”

“We're not at war with them yet.” Leia gathered the notebooks and the map and shoved them back in the envelope. “Where there's a will, there's a way.”

Leia heard the first whine of bullets before she saw them. She shoved Clarence to the floor. Artie did the same with Luke. “Damn it!” She reached for the gun in her purse. “I should have known they wouldn't give up that easily.”

“They?” Clarence's long face was turning a shade of white normally reserved for fine china. “Whom, may I ask, are they?”

“The people who killed Papa Bail and his assistants on the dig.” Leia returned fire, shooting out the window at more of the men in the white coats. “These must be Tarkin's boys. Probably just hired hands.”

“They're not what you have to look out for.” Artie inched along the floor to join her at the window. “It's the ones with machine guns that are the scariest. Those guys will shoot at anything, and they don't care if they aim straight.”

Leia aimed and caught one man in the hand. “I don't think they really care about what they're shooting at, either.”

Luke groaned, pulling his tan cotton jacket over his head. “That's good to know.”

“They aren't gangsters.” Leia fired off her last shot. “They're Tarkin's men. They're after Papa Bail's notebooks and the map. I don't think the police could arrest him, even if he stuck around long enough for them to catch him. He has diplomatic immunity.”

Clarence reached for the phone on the table. “I'm going to call the police. They should certainly do a better job of keeping awful gangsters like this off people's property!” He yelled for the operator for several minutes before throwing down the receiver. “Oh blast it, they're busy! I can't get through!”

The quartet looked up at the same time. Harsh voices were heard in the hall, along with the sound of smashing glass and crunching wood. The young woman thrust the envelope into Luke's arms. “Luke, take Clarence and Artie and get this to Benton Kenobi as fast as you can.”

Now Luke was the one who looked worried. “Leia, I can't just leave you here!”

“I can take care of myself.” She nearly shoved Luke into Clarence. “Go! Get out through the side door into the citrus orchard.” The three men made a break for the hall as Leia went through Papa Bail's desk. She knew he kept a gun in here somewhere. She saw him take it out once, when he was talking about how dangerous the situation in the world was getting.

She finally found the lacquered box with the small pistol just as two of the white-clad goons burst into the office. She hit one in the shoulder before rushing off to the main front door. She was hoping she could draw the goons away from her brother and the servants and give them a chance to escape.

Leia met two more goons at the door. She put up her pistol to fire...but she didn't see the goons coming up behind her. One smacked the back of her skull with the handle of his gun. She dropped to the ground, her vision swimming with stars.

“She'll be all right.” The black-gloved hand before her was blurry. “Inform Mr. Vader that we have the girl he was looking for.”

Those were the last words she heard before she blacked out.