But I can stand it, if it comes. I’ve seen the Imperials inflict horrible pain on civilizations across the galaxy. I’ve seen their “purification” methods. If others can bear it, so can I.
But why wait for it? Escape always seems impossible—until it works. Is this Death Star as security-tight as it appears?
I’ve decided to test it. If I can manage to get out of the dock, I can hide in the main hangar. Those transports I saw must come and go frequently in a station this big. There might be a chance to slip aboard with cargo.
It won’t be easy. The prisoners’ dock is manned by a combination of stormtroopers and regular security troops. They are a follow-orders kind of bunch, who don’t think for themselves, so I might be able to trick them.
My great advantage is surprise. They would not expect someone like me to try to escape. I’ve thought of several ideas, gone over them in my head. But I’ve decided the simplest plan is the best.
SEVENTH ENTRY
LOCATION: PRISONERS’
DOCK/DEATH STAR
I waited until the guard arrived with food. I stood in the middle of the cell, waiting for him. He was surprised, I could tell, to find me in his face as soon as the door hissed open.
I had hoped that the food handler wouldn’t be a stormtrooper from the elite guard, but a rank and file trooper. Someone used to following orders. I was lucky.
“I demand to see Darth Vader,” I said. “I am Princess Leia of Alderaan. I know the Emperor personally, and I must see Vader. Now.”
He placed the food tray down in the slot by the bunk. I could almost see his small brain ticking. What should he do? Ignore me, and suffer the consequences? Or obey me, and possibly have the wrath of Darth Vader on his head? Should he call a superior? Yes, that was it.
It wasn’t hard to read him. Imperial soldiers always want to pass the buck.
“I demand… to see Darth Vader,” I said, weakening my voice and making it falter. “I—”
And then I fell to the ground.
That was the hard part—to relax my muscles, force my body to topple without breaking my fall. I’ve never been good at giving up control. My head hit the floor with a crack, bringing tears to my eyes. But I stayed still as death while the guard shouted at me to rise. I didn’t flinch when he kicked me—I have a purple bruise to show for it.
But the next time his boot came down, I grabbed it. I yanked it hard, and he fell. I didn’t expect a guard to be quite so foolish, but you can never underestimate the basic stupidity of one of the Emperor’s mind-followers.
I knew from my encounter with Vader that I should hook my fingers under the lip of the guard’s helmet. I wrenched it off and then used it like a club to smash him on the head.
That allowed me the one second I needed to grab his blaster. It was on stun. I blasted him, then deactivated the door with his device. I slipped out, leaving the guard inside.
The hallway was empty. It was narrow, and the walls curved above my head. I studied it for a moment. There didn’t appear to be tracking devices in the ceiling. Good.
Gripping the blaster, I moved cautiously toward the control center. As I moved, I followed through on the plan I’d formulated in my cell. As I passed each cell, I activated the release lock. If I released all the prisoners, the guards at the command center would have their hands full. In the confusion, I might be able to slip away and get to the docking bay.
But I hadn’t expected all the cells to be empty.
I almost groaned aloud. How could it be? If there was one thing the Imperials were good at, it was arresting innocent people. I realized that the Death Star was too new yet to have prisoners. So I was their first. What a treat.
I moved faster now. It wouldn’t take the guard at the center long to wonder why the cell doors were opening. Cell checks or cleaning were probably scheduled. And someone would be starting to worry about the food handler by now.
By the time I reached the end of the corridor, I was running. Unfortunately, I almost ran into a squad of stormtroopers, who suddenly appeared in front of me.
My blaster was at the ready, and I got off two good shots. I took down two stormtroopers before they got me. I think I must have been hit three times.
At least their blasters were on stun. I guess Vader wants to keep me alive—for now. When I came to, I was back in my cell. My food had been removed, I guess as punishment. I was bruised, and I had a headache the size of a Yavin moon.
At least I learned something—my cell number. I heard a guard call it out when they were still trying to figure out what was going on. It’s not much, and probably won’t help me at all, but I record it here: 2187.
It didn’t take long for Darth Vader to appear in my doorway. I must be a nice sharp thorn in his side. A cheerful thought.
“Your pathetic attempts at resistance grow tiresome,” Vader told me. “But you will bore me no further.”
He announced that interrogation would no longer be delayed. It would begin today. He retreated, his cape flicking like the wings of a rabid swamp bat. The door hissed closed.
So I’m scheduled for a torture session with the Imperial interrogator droid! But Vader made the mistake of telling me. He will have no element of surprise. And I have time to prepare.
I’ve had training on Alderaan. There are mind methods to help one withstand torture. The technique involves what the masters call a “drawing inward,” using breathing and visualization techniques. I must think of brain-images that will keep my mind aloof from the pain. I must separate mind and body so that I will not reveal a single secret. I must stay in each moment, not anticipating the pain to come or reliving the pain from the moment before.
The one drawback to the technique is that, on peaceful Alderaan, no one could bear to actually cause pain. So I practiced techniques while holding ice in both my hands, or being subjected to extreme cold or loud noises for short periods of time. I was able to free my mind from feeling anything under these conditions.
But I have a feeling the interrogator droid won’t hand me two ice cubes to hold. Vader will have something a little more extreme in mind.
Okay, I’ll be honest. With the thought of torture facing me, I’d rather be anywhere but here. But if I can manage to stay focused and not reveal even the most trivial secret, Darth Vader will lose face with the Imperial high command. I’ll be able to have that one small pleasure. With that, and the thought of the great Rebellion, I’ll bear anything they throw at me.
EIGHTH ENTRY
LOCATION: PRISONERS’
DOCK/CELL 2187/
DEATH STAR
I’m weak. And dizzy. It’s hard to speak or even to lift my head. I can’t make it to my cot. I’m lying on the floor.
Like an animal. This is what they did to me.
I try not to feel hatred. Because that’s what they want. Hatred weakens the spirit as pain weakens the body.
I didn’t think such pain existed. In any universe.
I have to rest now. To prepare for next time. But I record this fact:
He… did not… break me.
NINTH ENTRY
LOCATION: PRISONERS’
DOCK/CELL 2187/
DEATH STAR
The torture began with one needle. It probed my most sensitive nerves. Darth Vader stood by. The pain grew until I broke my promise not to scream and let out a cry that came from the deepest part of myself.
I practiced my mind techniques in the beginning. But as the pain began to take over, I could no longer reason properly. And then, as my sanity was slipping away, Vader spoke to me. He spoke in the voice of a friend. He wanted to end my pain—didn’t I want it to end, too? It would be so easy. It would happen immediately. He was my friend. All he had to do was raise his hand. And all I had to do was reveal where the Death Star plans were, or the location of the hidden Rebel base. Either piece of information would bring me sweet relief.
I held on.
“Never,” I gritted out. Just that one word cost me a gre
at effort.
The needle probed deeper. The pain grew and grew until I lost consciousness. They revived me.
And then they started all over again.
More pain. More terror.
I would have broken if I hadn’t been trained so well. I clung to the pieces of my training that had been shattered by the pain. Vader used the Force, trying to convince me that he was working for the Rebellion. That my father wanted me to reveal the location of the hidden base. Didn’t I want to please my father?
Confused and in raging pain, I held out against that voice. In the end, my resistance became nothing more than a single point of consciousness. A pinprick of light illuminating the darkness around me. I had to hold on to that pinprick. I concentrated and concentrated on that tiny particle of light, knowing that if I let it go—all was lost.
Then from somewhere far away, I heard Vader’s voice. I heard him say, “Enough.”
He wanted me alive. They would try again later.
My eyes were closed, and my grip on consciousness was weak. But I heard the hiss of the door with relief.
I’d made it through.
They’ve let me rest, at least. I can stretch out on my bunk, my head propped against the wall. It helps with the dizziness. Every so often over the past twenty-four hours or so, I’ve felt a shudder against my skull. At first, I thought it was the aftereffect of the torture. But I realize now it’s some function of the Death Star.
What could it be? Now that I think about it, I’ve heard thumps, too, over the course of my time here. And at times, my cell doesn’t smell very pleasant. There’s a faint odor to the air, of something rotten, something foul. An occasional stench that manages to invade the antiseptic walls.
The garbage chute! I’m next to the garbage chute. The Imperials must process their waste right next to the prisoner’s dock. It makes sense—they wouldn’t put a smelly refuse processor next to the commanders’ quarters.
They’ve created a mighty killing station, but they can’t disguise their own stench!
I think it’s night. But I can’t sleep, knowing that I may have to face the torture again. I must prepare myself. I must push away the fear that makes my body feel liquid. I truly don’t know if I can withstand a second session so soon.
It’s time to face the possibility of my death. If they come for me tomorrow, I could break. I was taught on Alderaan that it is my duty to assess my strength honestly, and not overestimate what I’m capable of.
If my mind is broken by Vader, I would endanger the entire Rebellion. Which means there is only one option—to die before they learn anything.
So first, I’ll try to fight. That might force them to kill me. And I’ll try to take as many stormtroopers down with me as I can. Better yet, an officer. Or Vader himself!
But if fighting is impossible, I’ll have to will myself to die. I know how to do this. I’ve been taught this, too. It’s said to be the most difficult mind-act there is, especially if you are young and healthy. But I know above all else that the Rebellion is worth dying for. That should help me.
I don’t know for sure if I can succeed. But I’ll do everything humanly possible. I can’t let the Rebellion down.
I’ve found a small crack between my bunk and the wall. I’m going to leave the data pad there, in hopes that some future prisoner will find it. Maybe he or she will have better luck, and will escape.
If you find this, bring it to Alderaan, to my father, Viceroy Bail Organa. He will reward you.
Father, the R2 unit must be protected. The information must be passed along.
I know that you will grieve for me. But we both believe in things greater than ourselves. What is one life compared to the great struggle?
Father, know that I died thinking of you, and of freedom.
Princess Leia of Alderaan
TENTH ENTRY
LOCATION: PRISONERS’
DOCK/CELL 2187/
DEATH STAR
I mark this day. It will live in my mind forever. My home planet Alderaan is gone.
Millions of lives vaporized. My father, my best friend Winter, my aunts, my teachers, my friends. All gone. An entire civilization vanished from the galaxy in an instant of heat, of light.
When they came for me, I had expected further torture. I would have borne it gladly. But not this.
Anything but this.
Darth Vader came for me with a squad of troopers. They bound my hands and kept their blasters at the ready. I didn’t ask any questions. I was gathering myself for the next torture session. I guessed that they were bringing me to one of their infamous “interrogation rooms.”
But instead, I was brought to the main observation deck. I was ushered into the presence of Grand Moff Tarkin himself.
I had met him before. We’d had numerous clashes in the Senate, before the Emperor rewarded him with a military command. Governor Tarkin is known for his cunning and his ruthlessness. His skin is gray, as though there isn’t blood running through his veins, but a vile toxic fuel. He’s more like a machine than a man—like Vader, but without the helmet and breath-mask.
Tarkin got things rolling by informing me that he’d signed my death order. If he thought this would frighten me, he was wrong. I had expected it. I was ready to meet death, if it came. More ready than they knew.
But then he surprised me. I expected him to question me about the hidden Rebel base. I was prepared to play the same cat-and-mouse game with him as I did with Vader. After a torture droid, Tarkin would be child’s play, I figured.
But Tarkin turned out to be the cruelest of all my tormentors.
He directed my attention to the viewscreens. I recognized the blue world spinning in the middle of the most beautiful star constellation in a thousand galaxies. Alderaan.
Tarkin told me that if I didn’t reveal the site of the Rebel base, he would test the Death Star’s destructive power on my home planet. He would blow it up.
The look in his gray eyes chilled me to the bone. It wrenched a cry from my throat. I told him that Alderaan was a peaceful planet. We had even outlawed weapons.
Tarkin was unmoved. Would I prefer a military target? Then name it. Where was the Rebel base?
Who would I condemn to die? Innocent children, men and women who were leading their lives peacefully, securely, on my own home planet? Or soldiers?
I saw satisfaction in Tarkin’s gaze. He had me, he knew it—and he triumphed in it.
I stared at the blue planet. I couldn’t let it be destroyed! I couldn’t just stand there and watch! If I had to see that, I’d die right there.
But I couldn’t betray my comrades, either.
There was another option. Only one. I had to delay them. And in the meantime, I could escape, or be killed, or manage to outwit them somehow. Alderaan would be spared, because what would be the point of destroying it if they couldn’t use it to gain information from me?
“Dantooine,” I said. The planet was the location of an old base, in a remote outer system. It would take them time to discover that we had abandoned the base there some time ago. We never stayed in one place very long. “They’re on Dantooine.” My voice was a whisper, as if it had been wrenched out of me. I wasn’t faking. I had been shaken by Tarkin’s threat.
Then, in a voice that will live in my nightmares, I heard Tarkin give the order to fire.
He had double-crossed me! I watched helplessly as a laser shot out into space and connected with Alderaan. The planet exploded into space dust in a split second.
It was like a giant hand had squeezed my heart, compacting it into a solid ball of pain. I staggered. My ears were filled with a great cry, as if I could hear the screams…
I closed my eyes and tried to control my emotions. Not now, Leia, I told myself. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.
We had been told that the Death Star had the capability to destroy whole planets. But in my heart, I hadn’t totally believed it. Fear is a weapon used by the Imperials to keep subje
cts in line. They use lies to confuse and threaten. And even if they had the power, would they use it?
Now I knew that their evil knew no human bounds. It was that black.
I turned on Tarkin and Vader. “You have only shown me the seeds of your own destruction.” I said. “You have no souls. That’s why your Empire is doomed. And that’s why the Rebellion will succeed. Now I’m sure of it!”
Then, they dragged me away.
I am to be executed. But when I close my eyes, all I can see is the white light of Alderaan’s destruction against my eyelids.
I never want that white light to fade. I never want to forget.
Last night, I decided to will myself to die. But after this, I refuse.
I don’t know yet how I can escape this station of death, but I vow that I will. And then the real battle will begin. Not for vengeance—for justice.
I’ll see Vader and his Emperor die before my very last breath. I will never give up!
ELEVENTH ENTRY
LOCATION: CARGO
COMPARTMENT B2 ON THE
MILLENNIUM FALCON
Here is proof that when a just cause is involved, the impossible becomes possible.
I have escaped. I am on a ship called the Millennium Falcon, just gone into hyperspace, speeding toward the Rebel base.
The R2 unit is aboard. Soon, the plans will be analyzed, and the attack will be launched.
I’ve found an empty cargo hold to be alone and record the details of my escape. It seems strange to be aboard this junk heap of a ship, pushed up against an old crate, sneezing from the dust. My cell on the Death Star is far away now.
I fought my way out of the Death Star side by side with two strangers. Their names are Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. We were helped by the two droids—Artoo-Detoo and that chattering See-Threepio. Artoo turned out to be resourceful and… well, clever, if I can give a human quality to a droid. Antilles chose well when he picked him.