The gangway lowered and hooded figure with arms crossed walked down. It was surrounded by Alliance guards. It seemed very much out of the ordinary because all other motion stopped. All workers seemed in a trance to the new presence coming into the hanger.
The base doors opened to a man. More specifically a General intent on meeting their newest arrival. His long stride met the group halfway in the hanger.
"Men," he nodded to the group. "You are dismissed."
"But sir…." the commander of the group said.
A pair of hands appeared, dropping handcuffs onto the ground. The group immediately trained blasters on the black figure. But the figure made no movement towards defensive action.
"I said dismissed."
None of the men moved or turned their blasters away. All continued trained on the hooded presence.
The hands moved the hood back. "It's ok, General. They don't really trust me."
The hood fell back across the figure's shoulders. The General's blue eyes scanned the face, finding stun collar marks at the throat, a bloody lip and a black eye.
"I gave them a pretty good fight. Had to make it realistic ya, know?"
Blue eyes met brown for the first time in years.
"Leia."
She smiled, as she unhooked the robe, dropping it next to the handcuffs.
"Yea."
He moved into hug his former friend, but she stepped back. Hurt crossed his features. He realized then she had hardened in the time away. She was no longer the person he may have thought she was, not with her outfit torn and bloody, looking like a single survivor of mission gone horribly wrong.
The hanger had grown silent. The Princess, who had been thought lost or dead, was back. Alive, but beaten. Surving, but maybe not living.