It was just a blaster, a pistol-like First Order issued one much like the ones that the soldiers of the Empire had used a long time ago. It wasn't even much different than the ones Han had carried for the entire time Leia had known him. It was just a blaster, in the hands of a low ranking officer whose name probably wasn't even known by his superiors. He had a steady hand however, and he would have had a clear shot, if someone hadn't jumped in the way.
Leia was used to being protected with people's lives, as a Princess, politician, and as a General. She was used to people dying because they believed in the same things she did and fought the same battles, or because they fought for one of the many friends she had made. And to an extent, she had become accustomed to it.
She would never get used to the people that she loved dying, though.
It was just a blaster. It wasn't torture, it wasn't Force lightning, and a minute ago he had drawn his lightsaber on her himself.
But her boy was in front of her regardless, and through the hole in his chest she could see that the one who had shot at her had a hole in his head.
"Why?" She asked, trying to cradle his body that was too big for his mother's arms. She could feel him dying in the Force even as she could see it happening in his face and she tried to rock him, soothe him, as if was a child's nightmare they could both wake from.
And her boy, her Ben, smiled at her shakily with tears on his face and fear in his eyes. But even as one light faded from him, another remained.
"Because…" He whispered, "It's what my grandfather would have done."