The Final Bit I Wrote
Grand Moff Tarkin peered out of the viewscreens, contemplating what his next step should be. Privately, he was feeling rather annoyed at Vader's constant criticism as to how he was handling the current situation.
He was interrupted by a strident voice.
"Sir! Sir!"
With some irritation, he turned to find one of the communication specialists making his way forward with a datapad. "What is it?"
"Sir! Reports from operatives at Alderaan have come through!" The flunky presented the datapad.
Tarkin took it and started scanning the reports. With a grim smile he handed the datapad back. "Send this to the Emperor with my complements. Ensure Lord Vader also receives a copy – after it is sent."
The specialist snapped to attention and relied, "Yes, Sir!" Tarkin waved him off.
Han Solo was having fun. He and Chewbacca had taken on the job of ferrying Harry, the kid Luke, the old fossil, and the two droids to the rebel base at Yavin IV. He was being paid a decent amount … completely under the table of course.
Joining them on the Falcon was the biggest pain in the ass he had ever encountered: Leia Organa, (nominally exiled) Princess of Alderaan.
Bail Organa had been convinced to allow for a bit of drama: The "Proper Authorities" of Alderaan were seen to have evicted several rebel leaders and a number of Rebel ships had been "attacked" by the planetary defense force.
That no one actually died in this action was not broadly disseminated to the population. Only a few higher ups were aware of the charade.
A heartfelt prerecorded message from Bail Organa had been played to the population at large, telling them, although Alderaan was now firmly in line with the Empire, he was taking exile to ensure that the Republic would be returned to its citizens.
A flashy and noisy battle of retreat had firmly convinced the Empire's spies that it was real. The Empire didn't always employ the brightest minds.