LESS THAN JOY
It was Winter Fete at Echo Base. Snow was not uncommon in many worlds that time of year, but the frozen world of Hoth took it to new and dizzying levels.
General Riekkan had given the day off to most personnel, with the understanding that if they were attacked the fun would be over.
The fun, however, was feeling a little more forced this year. Over the past three years, the losses were piling up: lost friends, lost sleep, lost hopes. The war was not going well. Many had died; some had just dropped out, the cost being paid in substance abuse, chronic depression and PTSD that was too high for them. There'd been a few suicides as well.
The day was spent by many of the squadrons playing sabacc and drinking heavily. There was laughter, but it seemed to have been induced more from dulled pain than genuine joy.
Card games were the usual form of celebrating, along with intoxicants. Military bases such as Echo Base were not designed with festivity in mind, let alone comfort. The mess hall, like every other area of the base, was always cold. Everyone was always dressed in cold weather gear. Most of the showers were sonic, and the occasional pleasure of a water shower was dimmed by the fact that 'hot' meant 'lukewarm at best.'
Han was playing sabacc with several members of Rogue Squadron. And winning by a wide margin.
"I'm in," Wedge told Han.
"Got a death wish?" Han asked jokingly.
"No, that's for the shot contest later," Wedge laughed.
"You can have it." Han had won the previous year. "I thought at first I'd died. Then I was afraid I hadn't."
"Getting soft, Solo?" Dak mocked.
"Not at sabacc," Han said, giving a cocky grin. "Luke?"
"I'm out. You're killing me here," Luke told him.
"Good. Hey, have you seen Leia?"
"No. I was going to ask you."
"If I'd seen her, I wouldn't have asked," Han said, taking Luke's chips.
"I'll see if I can find her." Luke left the table.
"Yeah. You do that," Han muttered as he and Dak began playing their hands.
01123581321345589144233377610987
The sabacc tournament ended and instead of cards and drinking, it was now just drinking.
"I can't find Leia," Luke said to Han as Han handed him a Corellian ale. "It's not like her to not show up." Granted, Leia tended to be quiet during Winter Fete, but she did her best to put on a brave face and joined in the conversations, even if she eschewed the card games and drinking contests.
"I'll see what's up," Han offered. "Have fun getting trashed."
He went to the communications center; there was a rotation of individuals throughout the celebration. Leia wasn't among them. Riekkan was there, of course; that was the way he was.
"General, have you seen the Princess?" Han asked.
"Not for the last six hours or so," Riekkan said. "She's not at the celebration?"
"No, and that's not like her. I'll see if she's in her quarters."
"Let me know she's okay," Riekkan said. He was sipping a hot buttered Corellian rum, one of the few times Han had observed him with an intoxicant. Riekkan was not one to get down with his troops. He was a kind man, and Han knew that every injury or death that had occurred during the war he took personally. Han had nothing but respect for the man.
"I will." He headed off in the general direction of the crew quarters. Han knew very well where Leia's quarters were; he'd spent many a night when he couldn't sleep walking by it. He'd never knocked, much as he wanted to. He knew she wasn't sleeping, either. He'd actually heard her sobbing every now and then. It made his heart ache; he wanted to go to her to comfort her but in all likelihood, she'd probably have insulted him, which was their normal MO of communication.
Unknown to Leia, Han spent most of his waking moments thinking about her. He felt protective towards her, despite her insistence that she could take of herself. No question about it; she was more than capable. But that didn't change Han's feelings about her.
He knocked at her door, several times. After five minutes, he was nearly ready to look elsewhere when the door was opened.
"What are you doing here?" Leia demanded, her voice weak and hoarse.
"I was just wondering how you were," Han said. "We hadn't seen you - "
"You're seeing me right now," Leia's tone was chilly, even with the rasp. Han studied her; her cheeks were heavily flushed. She turned away to cough.
"You're sick," Han said gently. "I'll be back shortly."
"Don't do me any favors," Leia snapped as she shut the door with a slam.
01123581321345589144233377610987
Han headed back to the Falcon. Chewie wasn't around; he was participating in the festivities. He was a well-loved addition to the squadrons.
He ransacked the small kitchen; he'd hoped Chewie hadn't devoured the rest of the waterfowl that was in the freezer unit. Chewie preferred his meat raw but if there wasn't any available, he'd eat it cooked.
He was in luck; there was enough left for a decent soup, and a few root vegetables. He also located some kavasa and muja fruits; he could pulverize them and make a juice. He knew that when he was ill, there was nothing like a waterfowl soup and a glass of fruit juice to help him feel better.
Han usually kept a few bottles of Corellian rum in his private collection. He had but one bottle left, but he had some butter and sugar, and he could make a decent hot buttered rum. It was always cold on base; he'd had enough ale that he wasn't freezing but it would wear off soon enough. He had enough for two hot beverages. Han had no illusions as to Leia allowing him farther than the hallway, but, as he told himself, you never know.
Juice chilling and soup simmering, Han went about working on some minor repairs he and Chewie hadn't yet gotten to. Once he could detect the smell of soup from the aft equipment bay, it was time to take it to an ailing Leia.
Han wouldn't have been surprised if she would toss the proffered tray back in his face, but that was a chance he was willing to take.
He was fortunate to have an insulated carrier, otherwise, the food would have been cold before he returned to Leia's quarters.
He took a deep breath and knocked.
It took less time for Leia to answer. "What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm not feeling well?"
"Yeah, I can. Which is why I made you some food."
"I'm not hungry."
"This'll make you feel better. Don't worry, it's not nerf grease."
Leia groaned. "C'mon in. And shut the door."
Han opened the container and produced a generous bowl of soup, a glass of juice, and two hot buttered rum.
"You didn't have to do this," Leia said, but the defiance in her tone had departed.
"I didn't have to. I wanted to. You were sick, I figured that whatever's in the mess hall wasn't gonna appeal much to you."
"You can say that again." She sipped the juice. "Kavasa and muju. I used to go for smoothies with Winter after school and this is what I always ordered." She drank thirstily. "This is so good."
"I can make you some more," Han offered. It would be the last of his fresh fruit, but it would be worth it.
Leia dipped the spoon into the soup. "This reminds me of what my nanny used to cook for me when I was little."
Han was shocked that she was confiding in him, let alone allowing him to be in her quarters.
"Can I get you anything from medical?" Han asked her.
"I could use some Zoprex." It was used in pain management and fever reduction."
"I'll get it for you."
"That's okay."
"No, I'll get it for you. I'll be right back."
Medical carried a skeleton staff; instead of battle injuries, the primary complaints were hangovers and the sort of influenza that was plaguing Leia. The caseload was light.
"I need some Zoprex for Princess Leia. She's quite ill."
"Where is she?"
"In her quarters," Han said to the droid. "If you want to ask her yourself, go ahead."
The droid in charge said nothing, but handed him two doses of Zoprex.
"If she's still unwell in 24 hours, have her come to the bay," the droid said pleasantly. "Tell her I hope she'll feel better soon."
"Thanks," Han said, taking off.
Leia let him in. "That soup is delicious. And I'd forgotten how good juice tasted."
"And then, there's the piece de resistance," Han announced, opening the insulated container, and taking out two cups.
"Is that hot buttered rum?" Leia asked hoarsely.
"It's Corellian rum. Hope you don't mind, but I have less of well stocked bar than I'd like." He handed her a cup. "Cheers."
"This is very good," Leia said, setting it down as she coughed.
"Oh, and here's a gift from medical," Han said, dropping the tiny packet with four pills in it on the tiny table that served as a nightstand. The quarters at Echo Base were about as far from opulent as one could get. Leia could have pulled rank and demand better, but she'd have refused if she'd been asked.
The two sat in silence, save for Leia's cough, and sipped their beverages.
"You feeling any better?" Han asked her when she drained the last of her drink.
"Yes. I am, a little." Leia laid back down on the pillow. "I finally feel warm. I couldn't stop shivering."
"I should let you get some sleep," Han said softly.
"Han?"
"Yeah?"
Leia lifted her head slightly. "I really appreciate this."
"My pleasure. Get some rest." Han quietly closed the door behind him.
She hadn't insulted him. She hadn't thrown anything at him.
Maybe, thought Han, there's hope for us.
If he'd been able to see into the future, he'd have seen that within a few weeks, their lives would be transformed forever.