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The Bloodstripe Reflex
Chapter Two
"Your highness…" Colonel Derlin began.
The princess felt like her heart was caught in a vise, each beat constricting painfully behind her breastbone. She fought against the heavy fear pressing down on her.
"Leia…" Winter started.
"What happened to Han?" Leia demanded as her eyes darted between the two. Her voice was crisp and businesslike, which pleased her, since she had just tucked her shaking hands inside her sleeves. But masking one's true feelings was a skill every diplomat learned, and Leia was an expert. There was only one person who unfailingly saw beyond the composed façade to the real, emotional woman inside—Han.
Why weren't they saying anything? Leia wondered desperately. How bad could it be?
"Is he dead?" she continued quickly. No, no, no! her mind cried desperately. He can't be dead. I'd know that, wouldn't I? I'd feel that. With brisk strides, Leia began walking down the corridor, leaving Winter and Derlin to trail along behind her. She actually had no idea where she was going, but she had to keep moving. She was afraid that if she stood still, the tremors would start again, and the princess couldn't allow that to show.
Colonel Derlin sputtered behind her. "Your highness," he said again. "Princess, if you would just let me explain."
The princess didn't slacken her pace.
"Leia!"
It was Winter's sharp rebuke that froze the princess in her tracks. Leia spun on her heel to face them, her face a stiff mask of self-control.
"Stop, Leia. Take a breath." Winter placed a gentle hand on the smaller woman's arm. "Just listen for a minute," she said in a calm voice. Her grey eyes held fast on her friend's face.
Leia shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. I need to stay calm—for the babies; this isn't good for them. Gods! I can't let them experience what I'm feeling. No one should have to feel this.
"What happened?" Leia asked again, addressing Colonel Derlin. "You told Hirani that there was an accident with a pilot trainee. Isn't that what happened?"
"That's exactly what happened," Derlin answered with a snap; then he took a deep breath, too. "My apologies, princess," he continued in a normal voice. "This has been a trying afternoon." He held up his hand, obviously anticipating that she would interrupt him; Leia noticed that the knuckles were bleeding. Yes, it had been a trying afternoon.
"One of our newest recruits, a young man from Corellia," he added, "was coming in for a simulated ship landing. He completely missed the force-shield capture netting, and plowed his trainer into a stockpile of engine coolant." There was pain in the Colonel's eyes as he relived the crash in his mind. "The X-wing caught fire, which, in turn, ignited the spilled engine coolant." His gaze was unfocused as he recalled the details. "Coolant isn't a volatile liquid, which is why there wasn't an explosion, but it does burn," Derlin explained. "Captain Solo had just landed the Millennium Falcon," he continued, his tone as formal as if he were making a report. "He saw the accident and went to help extricate the pilot." Derlin swallowed. "He went into the flames," he finished. His voice was hollow and his face looked haunted.
Leia felt her stomach muscles tighten. Of course Han would run into a fire. Curse him to the deepest of the Corellian hells; didn't he ever think before he went charging into danger? She must have let her mask slip, just for a second, she thought, as she saw Colonel Derlin blanch before he hurried on.
"If Han—Captain Solo—hadn't moved so quickly, that pilot might have burned to death; he was unconscious from the crash. Chewbacca helped get them both away from the worst of it." Derlin looked straight at the princess. "Both Han and the pilot are at the trauma center now," he explained. "Chewbacca is there, too."
Chewie was hurt, too? Leia swallowed down the hard lump in her throat as the colonel pulled a comlink from inside his soot-covered jacket and checked the display. "He hasn't messaged me. I guess the trauma team doesn't know how badly Han is hurt yet."
Leia felt her tight muscles loosen the tiniest bit. Right now she needed Chewie to be all right.
"Which is where you should be going," Winter advised. She grasped Leia by the elbow and moved her forward toward the building exit. The princess saw an official Customs' speeder, obviously it had been the easiest vehicle for Colonel Derlin to commandeer from the docking bays, waiting outside. Derlin hurried around to the pilot's seat while Winter helped her friend into the passenger side.
"It will be okay," Winter whispered to her as she handed Leia her bag. She gave the princess's hand a firm squeeze. "I know it will."
Leia stared up at her friend and offered a wordless look of thanks as the speeder moved into the steady stream of Coruscant traffic.
####
Can't he drive any faster?
Leia knew that this was an unreasonable question as soon as she thought it. Colonel Derlin was negotiating through the congested snarl of speeder and hover-truck traffic with a skill that would rival any pilot other than Han, weaving in and out; up, down, and around the vehicles that were moving at a normal, sluggish, Coruscant pace.
The princess looked at her driver. Derlin appeared older than he had the last time she had seen him, which was only a few weeks ago. There were deep lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn't been there then. This had to be difficult for him, too, Leia realized. He'd just witnessed a horrific crash, and seen an old friend injured. Derlin and Han had known each other for a long time; he must be worried, too.
So why wasn't he getting to the trauma center any faster? Leia was just too nervous to be reasonable right now.
As the speeder streaked forward, the streets, buildings, and residents of Coruscant all became nothing more than a multi-colored blur. Leia's thoughts gravitated to Derlin's description of the accident. Unbidden and unwelcome, she saw every detail of the accident in her mind's eye: the X-wing careening into the barrels of coolant, the flames shooting upward, Han running into the fire… She could feel the lick of the flames on her arms and face, and feel the searing heat of the toxic fumes in her lungs. Leia coughed and gasped.
"Princess? Are you alright?"
"What?" she asked as she hacked again. Gods! If this was the Force acting on her, she could do without it. Leia quickly focused her thoughts on her unborn children; the phantom pain died away.
"You sounded sick, there for a minute," Derlin observed. "Are you feeling unwell?"
"No, I'm fine," Leia answered. It was nowhere near the truth.
The Colonel looked closely at the princess, then nodded. "We're here," he pointed out.
Leia looked up, startled to see the emergency entrance to the trauma center. They'd finally arrived. Chewie stood just inside the door, waving urgently at her.
"Colonel," she said. "Thank you for getting me here so quickly." That was the truth, as far as it went. Leia fumbled for her bag as Derlin unlatched the canopy.
"Princess…Leia," Derlin looked imploringly at her. "I have to get back to the docking ring; it's a mess there." He rubbed the bridge of his nose as if his head ached. It probably did. "Please let me know as soon as you know anything about Han."
Leia levered herself out of the speeder. "I will," she said as she looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked to the entrance to meet Chewie.
####
The first thing Chewie did was envelop the princess in a bone-jarring hug, lifting her up off the ground. If it had been anyone other than Chewie, Leia would have objected that she was just fine and that she didn't need any comforting. But Leia knew that the hug was just as much for his sake as it was for hers. The three of them—Leia, Chewbacca, and Han—had been through so much together, and had known one another for such a long time, that there was a friendship between them that few outsiders would understand.
When she felt her feet touch the ground again, Leia steadied herself against Chewie's broad chest and brushed a few stray strands of Wookiee hair from around her nose and mouth. His fur usually smelled of trillium soap—or of the Millennium Falcon. It was disconcerting to smell the acrid chemical scent of the crash in it.
With an insistent groan, Chewie grasped Leia's upper arm in his large hand and propelled her down one of the center's maze of corridors, as other beings and droids wisely moved out of their way. The princess, trotting to keep up with the Wookiee's much longer stride, tried to find out where they were going, and what exactly had happened to Han. However, each question she asked was met with a noncommittal grunt, grumble or growl.
Frustration finally drove the princess to take desperate steps. Catching the Wookiee unprepared, she jerked her arm free, and with a quick step-hop, maneuvered herself in front of him. Chewie nearly bowled straight into her; fortunately his lightning-fast instincts took over, as Leia had known they would. Two hairy arms reached out and grabbed the tottering woman before she was knocked to the floor. When he was sure Leia was steady on her feet again, he raised those arms above his head and scolded the princess for her reckless behavior with an angry howl. Several of the more sensitive species of beings nearby scampered away from the angry display.
Leia looked up into Chewie's face, where she saw anxiety, not anger, in the Wookiee's bright blue eyes. Of course, he was worried, too. She reached high above her head to pull his arms back down to his sides.
"Chewie," she said, taking one of his huge hands in her small one. "I'm sorry I got in your way like that, but you've got to answer my questions." She turned dark eyes, suddenly swimming with tears, up to his face. "Tell me where we're going?" She paused and drew a tremulous breath. "How bad is it? How badly is Han hurt?"
The Wookiee looked down at her and warbled a few short words. He didn't miss the responding spark of irritation in Leia's face.
"I know it's not good," she snapped out. "We wouldn't be at the trauma center if it was something simple." The princess took a steadying breath. "But before I take another step, I need to know what it is I'm walking into."
Leia didn't miss Chewie's quick glance down to the burgeoning bump just below her waist.
"Don't," she admonished him. "I'm fine, and they're fine. Now tell me."
Chewie only shook his head at the stubborn princess. Then, with two deft movements, Chewbacca opened the closest door and maneuvered himself and the princess inside it, resealing the door behind them. The space proved to be a large storage closet. A tiny part of Leia's mind—the part not desperate to know what in the hells was going on with Han—wondered how the Wookiee knew the room would be empty. Perhaps, he just hadn't cared if it was or not.
Leia was glad for the privacy as Chewie described what had happened after the accident. By the time he was through with his rumbling explanation, the princess had her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She leaned back against a rack filled with cleaning supplies, her face white. The Wookiee wrapped a heavy arm around her shaking shoulders.
Han had sustained severe burns to his arms, chest, and face. When they brought him in he'd been in terrible pain; they'd sedated him immediately after a cursory physical exam. He was immersed in bacta now, Chewie explained. With time and several different immersions, the burns would heal.
Leia had breathed a brief sigh of relief at that information, only to have it quickly stolen away by Chewbacca's next statement, spoken in a carefully modulated moan.
The medics, both droid and human, were more concerned about what Han had breathed in as he pulled the pilot out of the X-wing. The heat had been extreme, which might have caused damage to his lungs. Plus, the fumes of burning fluids and melting metals made for a toxic airborne soup. They would need to monitor Han carefully for inhalation poisoning.
Odds were, Chewie carried on with a ghost of a grin, knowing Han's contempt for odds-quoting, that Han would make a full recovery. But it might be slow, the medics had suggested, and there was the possibility of complications. Then he'd rubbed a furry knuckle across Leia's face to wipe away the tears that poured down her cheeks.
The woman and the Wookiee stood together in the closet until Leia regained her composure. Then, with an encouraging smile, Chewie asked if Leia was ready to go. She nodded her head jerkily and reached down to pick up her bag off the floor.
"Let's go see Han," she said. Shouldering her bag and straightening her spine, she opened the door and stepped into the busy corridor.
With his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Chewie guided the princess toward the bacta treatment room.
