The Children of the Stars

The Last Hope

The Hapan shuttle, the Coral Wyvern, arrived just before the sunrise on Chandrila. The sky was a deep indigo that matched the cloaks of the handmaidens as they boarded the ships.

Vasilisa stopped, explaining to a member of the Chume'doro that one handmaiden would be staying behind, at the behest of the Chume'da.

Allana focused on keeping her face pleasantly neutral as Vasilisa and the guard exchanged whispers. Finally, the guard shrugged and nodded at Allana.

Vasilisa turned and embraced her princess. "Good luck, Amelia. The Chume'da eagerly anticipates reports of your progress."

"I cannot wait to report back to her and join you all again soon." There was an unspoken promise in the exchange.

Soon we will be together again and we will all be happy.

Perhaps it was a naive promise, more an optimistic wish with no chance of coming true.

But as Allana stepped back, to allow room for the Coral Wyvern to take off, she couldn't help but believe it. She had to. They would fix everything, surely.

That was what fathers and mothers did, didn't they?

She held a fistful of her velvety cloak, watching as the stars lingered in the approaching daylight. For a moment, it was beautiful.

Then the spell was broken. The princess had work to do. She turned to where the Falcon was parked. Outside, Nellith stood, watching. Allana's heart ached at the sight of her.

Nellith was wearing a mix of clothes from various sources. A Hapan summer dress with a knee-length hem, a jacket donated graciously by Sam that was too small. Boots and a scarf that once belonged to Aya Tico, and leggings that Rose had been meaning to return but had never gotten around to.

Then there was her hair. Styled in the three buns that their mother wore in the old holos— even though it was always half-up, half-down as long as Allana could remember.

With all of the flyaway hairs and the ragged, cobbled-together look, Allana could see her mother standing there in Nellith's shadow. A much younger Rey Skywalker, lost and aimless, waiting for a family that would not come back.

But they will come back.

Allana had to believe that. And yet, as she took in her fraternal twin, she couldn't help but wonder who people saw in her.

Her father, the once-wicked Kylo Ren? Her mother, the Last Jedi? Or perhaps the likes of Luke Skywalker, the greatest hope the galaxy once held? Or even, if you squinted, the great queen Padme Amidala?

Despite the old holos that Allana often admired and placed on her vanity for fashion inspiration, she thought that last one was perhaps a stretch.

Padmé Amidala led a revolution at the age of fourteen.

When Allana was fourteen, all she could do was run.

"Hey, sis, gonna stop gazing at the stars or what?"

"Sorry." Allana shook her head in that trained careful way, to prevent hairpins or a curly lock from falling out of her intricate hairstyle. "I was just thinking about some things."

"Things— very queenly," Nellith teased.

"Shut up." Allana smiled as she said it.

"After you." Nellith made a very elaborate and over-the-top bow and gesture to accompany it. "Your Grace."

Allana rolled her eyes and entered the Millennium Falcon.

She entered the cockpit, where Valin and Tahiri were already seated.