The air seemed to stand still. The tarmac on D'Qar was filled with Resistance personnel. No one stirred. Most had their heads hung low, faces sullen and fighting back tears. Those that could muster the strength to remove their gazes from the ground peered forward at a small group of six individuals carrying an empty platform. At the front of the pallbearers were Leia and Finn.

All at once, the small group began to move forward. The crowd solemnly followed behind, keeping a respectable distance in between The sky overhead was cloudy, almost as dreary as the funeral procession.

The pole atop Finn's shoulder didn't feel heavy. In fact, he barely noticed that it was there at all. He felt slightly numb. He had woken up from his coma only a few days ago and remembered that Han was gone. He could feel the sorrow welling up inside of him. Since leaving the First Order, Han was one of his only true friends, and now he was gone.

Tears began to fall onto his cheeks. His vision began to blur, but he could still make out the warm red and yellow of the burning candles lit all around him. The edges of the tarmac had been lined with candles of various sizes, lighting a path for the pallbearers to follow. As Finn blinked away some tears, he looked to his left; Leia also moved slowly in unison with him, and he noticed that she too was crying.

Leia was the fearless leader of the Resistance. On numerous occasions she had led her group of rebels into battle, usually facing impossible odds. She had stood up to the likes of Darth Vader and Emperor Snoke. There was no room for weakness – ever. But now, the death of the father of her son, brought her to tears. Today, there was no war, no fight, no battle to be won. Today, she mourned the loss of someone that had brought hope to her life many years ago when hope had seemed all but lost.

Leia held her gaze firmly forward. Her chin began to tremble as she was trying to hold it together. She gripped the pole on her shoulder tight with both hands. She didn't want to let go. Part of her wanted to hold onto this empty platform forever, one last remnant of Han.

The procession moved on slowly. No one spoke as all words seemed to be lost. Eventually the pallbearers reached the very end of the tarmac. A green field lay beyond. Finn felt soft ground underfoot as they proceeded onto the grass.

Not too far past the last of the concrete laid a funeral pyre. A large mound of dried wood had been constructed for the platform to be burned on, in Han's memory. When Finn, Leia and the other pallbearers reached the pyre, they carefully placed the platform on top. Once in place, they positioned themselves close by. Leia stood at the forefront of the group, with her eyes remaining on the pyre.

The rest of the crowd closed in, forming a large circle around the pyre. Once the sound of shuffling feet had stopped, Leia turned to face the crowd. Her eyes were red, but the crying had stopped.

She held her gaze on everyone for a long moment.

"Han … was a great man," she began. "In all the years that I knew him, he was many things: a smuggler, a pilot, a rebel, a leader, a husband, and a father. But most importantly, he was a great man, and a true inspiration to us all."

When I first met Han, he wasn't interested in the Rebel cause. He had his own life, away from the thick of it all. But, when he realized that the galaxy, that many innocent people, were in need of his help, he came to their aid. He joined the fight. He did what few would have done. His heart of gold shone brightly through the rubble left in the wake of the Galactic Empire. He helped those who needed it most."

While Han Solo was many of the things that I said before, he was most importantly a great man, and a true friend to all. And to honor his memory, I ask – I beg - each and every one of you to live life as Han did, and be that little bit of light that the galaxy so desperately needs."

When Leia finished talking, a man approached with a lit torch. She took it and turned back to the pyre. She spoke softly to the pyre, but Finn couldn't make out what she was saying. A few moments later, she laid the torch on the pile of wood.

The dry wood quickly caught on fire. The flames grew and grew, crackling louder as they did. The platform eventually was consumed by the flames, which rose several feet into the air. The heat felt good on Finn's skin, a welcomed warmth to a cold day.

The light from the flames danced across the faces of the onlookers. Some cried silently to themselves, others into the shoulders of those next to them. Finn cried silently as he watched Leia in front of him. She still hadn't turned from the pyre, several minutes after igniting it.

Eventually the crowd began to dissipate. Once night had fallen, the onlookers had slowly thinned out until there were only a handful of people remaining, including Finn. He had become lost in the glowing flames, until a hand at his waist nudged him out of his trance. He looked down to find Maz Kanata at his hip, staring up at him through her large glasses.

"Come, child. It is time for us to move on," she said calmly.

Finn rubbed away some tears.

But what about Leia?" he asked, turning his head toward General Organa.

"She'll be along soon. She is taking her time to grieve, but the tides of the galaxy are turning and she'll be needed shortly. News has reached us that she'll have to attend to."

"News?"

"Yes, look," she responded while gesturing to Leia.

A woman had approached from the depths of the darkness. Finn recognized her as Lieutenant Connix. She spoke quietly to Leia, who nodded her head along in response. After a moment, Connix left and Leia moved to Finn and Maz.

Leia spoke first. "Thank you for being here today. I know Han meant a great deal to you both." She took turns clasping both of their hands in hers to show gratitude. "But now we have other matters to attend to. If you will, please follow me back to the base."

And on her last word, she turned towards the tarmac and they all headed off back to headquarters.