a/n: Laurensia Outpost is mine. also, more Dansra! More Han-learning-things-about-Alderaan (that I, to my knowledge, made up).

Nine

Laurensia Outpost was as good a place as any to wait for General Dodonna. It was a distinctly different sort of place than the usual seedy, no-man's land kind of places outposts usually were. Dansra said it was because Laurensia was once a thriving vacation spot for Alderaanians, and while the elegance and attraction had quickly deteriorated since Alderaan had gone, it still looked, on the surface, like a lovely place to be.

Inside the bars and shops though, it was as murky and questionable as any sandy old Tatooine hideout.

Sitting in a shadowy corner both killing time, Han was struck grimly by how – out of place he felt here. Not too long ago, he'd frequented places like this; he'd reveled in dark corners, hiding from one crime lord or another, picking up illegal jobs, living life on the edge – hell, five years ago he'd have been careless of his surroundings in a place like this, because he'd have been so cocksure in his ability to fend off an aggressor.

He was still confident in his ability to win a fight, but he noted a distinct absence of the itch to start one he'd sometimes used to get – and on top of that, he eyed the patrons of the place with caution and suspicion, instead of a sort of tacit comradery. It had been so long since he'd lounged around one of these places that he hadn't realized how truly far he'd come from the smuggler he used to be.

Realizing he was out of place was eye-opening, but the real kick was how little he cared, and how little he missed that life. He'd had his fun, he had his good times, and he'd had a hell of a youth, but all that was nothing compared to the feeling of peace and purpose he had these days – and much as he'd valued his bachelorhood, with no one but Chewbacca to consider, he didn't even want to imagine his life without Leia.

As he scanned the inside of the building, he took careful note of where each of his crew were – Darklighter, with a drink by the bar, Antilles, chatting up a pair of girls with turquoise skin and red hair, Dansra –

Han sat forward slightly, having lost sight of the woman. The moment didn't last, though; her form appeared in front of him. She sat down comfortably across from him and slid him a mug of some kind of ale, smiling wryly.

"Antilles says I'm affecting his ability to pick up women, and Darklighter is only capable of talking about womp rats," she said. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me. I bought you a drink to ease the burden of that, but you're free to continue brooding if you like."

Han reached out and took the handle of the mug, giving her a look.

"'M not brooding," he muttered gruffly.

Dansra snorted.

"Your brood is famous, didn't you know?"

Han looked at her dubiously.

"Do I even want to know?" he asked dryly.

Dansra whistled.

"There's a photo of you seated by Princess Leia at one of the speeches she gave, a few months ago," she told him gleefully, "and in it, you've got a spectacularly bored – or maybe irritated – look on your face. Holo net seventeen calls it the award winning brood."

Han glared at her as if the incident were her fault alone, and peered into the drink she'd offered, slightly suspicious.

"What is this?"

"The barkeep claims its Aldera Ale," Dansra said skeptically. "It's too dark for Aldera ale. It's about as Alderaanian as the fabrics in the stalls outside, which the sellers are claiming are true Alderaanian silks." Dansra shook her head ruefully. "The whole place is counterfeiting my culture for credits – revolting."

She said it with a wistful sigh, but with overall energy – again, Dansra and her energy.

Han, not really interested in alcohol that wasn't some type of whiskey – preferably Corellian – looked at her intently for a moment, and then narrowed his eyes with interest.

"How d'you do that?" he asked abruptly. Shrugging, he went on: "Just talk about Alderaan so…happily." He didn't mean to sound critical, but he winced, because he realized he might have – but the thing was, the only Alderaanians he knew closely were Rieekan and Leia, and the former referenced Alderaan with heaviness when he had to; the latter could barely speak about her home at all.

Dansra considered him a moment, and then shrugged.

"Well, I have to, "she said frankly.

"Have to?" he quoted skeptically.

"It's either be as upbeat as possible, or walk around in a constant state of – well," she flushed slightly, looking down at her mug, "like I was when we entered the system," she muttered.

Han cleared his throat, respectfully not saying anything. Though Dansra had, in her optimistic, almost bubbly way, mentioned several times she expected to have some sort of meltdown when they saw the remains of Alderaan, Han hadn't exactly been prepared for it to actually happen. He supposed it had been a natural reaction; she'd been unable to stop crying for quite a while, and Antilles had ended up locking her in the cabin so she couldn't catch sight of the viewport.

She hadn't referenced the episode since they'd removed themselves to Laurensia to wait for the military support.

Dansra shrugged.

"There's nothing I can do about what happened to Alderaan," she said tightly. "I just have to accept it. I do that. Head on. It helps."

Without thinking, Han asked:

"Could you teach someone else to do that?"

Dansra smiled at him wryly.

"People are different, Solo," she said evasively. "I'm not Princess Leia. It's different."

He nodded, leaning back heavily – he was just trying to figure out ways to help Leia. There was only so much he could do, being Corellian, having such a different background, not really understanding all she'd been through – not from a personal point, at least. The only area in which he came close was the torture – he'd been tortured on Bespin, but it was nothing compared to what she'd suffered.

Han cleared his throat, taking note of where Antilles and Darklighter were again.

"Tell me about Alderaan," he said gruffly.

Dansra rested her chin on her palm and took a drink of ale. She immediately made a face, pushed the drink away, and shook her head suspiciously.

"Definitely not Aldera Ale," she muttered, and then fixed her eyes on him. "What do you want to know?"

The question stumped him – what did he want to know? It wasn't as if he could use the information to impress Leia; she didn't talk about Alderaan. Although – that might change now, and maybe that was driving his interest. He didn't want to feel clueless among a hoard of important people from her planet.

Dansra misinterpreted his silence, and smirked at him wryly.

"About our marriage customs?" she asked.

Han's eyes narrowed.

"What gave you that idea?" he asked sharply.

Dansra laughed simply.

"Men," she lamented, "are endlessly careless – you didn't clear your last search on the datapad before you gave it to me to map the coordinates for Laurensia," she told him frankly. "You were searching what stones we use in our rings."

Han glared at her balefully, muttering under his breath, but he was caught – and instead of denying it, or changing the subject, he said:

"Couldn't find an answer."

"Because we don't use rings," Dansra said quickly. "Ah," she amended. "Well – the royal hierarchy often did, depending on who was married to what foreign house," she noted, thinking about it. "But in general, culturally and between Alderaanians, rings weren't our tradition."

"Saw somethin' about necklaces," Han said.

"You'd do better to simply ask an Alderaanian," Dansra said simply. "Though I guess you'd rather eat sand than ask General Rieekan that question – the gist is, the man has a necklace made for the intended bride. There's quite a bit of leeway in design; the only caveats are it must be white gold, and it must be a single chain and a single pendent," she said matter-of-factly. "The gem chosen most often represents the birthstone of the bride. When it's presented, the woman accepts it, but the man has to fasten it on at the wedding."

Han stared at her and, after a moment, raised a brow. Dansra grinned.

"I knew plenty of Alderaanian woman who had rings as well, as that's sort of galaxy wide," she laughed. "But between Alderaanians, the necklace was important."

Han looked somewhat uncertain.

"How can anyone tell the difference between that kind of necklace and any old necklace?" he asked pointedly.

He'd seen Leia wear jewelry before, even single strand, single pendant necklaces – all kinds of gems, for galas and dinners and the like.

"Ah," Dansra sighed. She held up her hands like she was holding an unclasped necklace. "That's the trick. The clasp is made to look like a knot, so that when its fastened, it looks like it's impossible to get off. Some women had theirs fused, so it never came off. My mother did. On either side of the clasp, there are small – very small – oval plates; one side with her initials, one side with yours – uh, his," she said hastily, not wanting to be presumptuous.

"Fused on? What if they split up?"

Dansra shrugged.

"Alderaanians didn't really get divorced. Of course it was legal and not necessarily frowned upon, but the people are so thoughtful and so keen on compromise and peace that marriages had remarkable staying power, more remarkable than on other planets."

"Men?" Han grunted. "They wear...necklaces?" He grimaced slightly; the word was so...feminine.

"Hmm," Dansra murmured. She gestured at her neck lightly. "It's subtle, usually a thin chain - Viceroy Organa will probably have his on. No ornament; same clasp." She smiled a little dejectedly. "Not many artists left who can construct that kind of clasp, though," she remarked.

Han tried to envision the kind of thing she was talking about, and felt he got the general idea. Her last words though – he kept being constantly reminded of just how devastating Alderaan's loss really was, how not only was the planet gone, it was desperately difficult to keep the art, the language, the culture – all of that – going forward when so many secrets of their world had perished on the spot.

Corellians were not unique with engagements, not out of the ordinary; there were rings, and there were vows. When he'd asked Leia to marry him on Corellia, that was the kind of thing he envisioned – vaguely, when he did envision it. He wasn't sure what she was thinking when she agreed; he should have asked.

The world had just been so hectic since then, and he thought deep down, both of them knew they'd never been ready to get married so immediately; still, the understanding was there – it still was for him, and he sensed it still was for her.

He made a mental note to reach out to Lando and see about combing through their old contacts to investigate where someone who could make that kind of jewelry might be lurking.

"Are you going to ask her highness to marry you?" Dansra asked bluntly.

Han very pointedly did not answer. He cleared his throat, and changed the subject immediately.

"What can you tell me about Bail Organa?" he asked gruffly.

Dansra tilted her head side to side.

"Like I said, I didn't know him – and I traveled off planet quite a lot," she answered hesitantly. "I was serious when I said I was bad at history, at knowing my home. Never appreciated what I had until it was gone."

Han nodded, but amended his question.

"What'd you think of him from a commoner's point of view?" he asked. He smirked a little ruefully. "Seein' as that's what I am, in that kind of world."

Dansra leaned forward on her elbows, thinking about it.

"He was," she started, clearly wracking her brains – she'd been twenty when Alderaan was destroyed; she'd been eighteen when she started to care for politics at all. She asked herself what her feelings were, and she tried to remember how her family had felt, what she'd heard. "I have to admit some of what I'm saying may be biased based on what I've read and studied since then," she began fairly, licking her lips. "He was…fair," she decided.

She paused again.

"Fair," she described. "Honorable. Bold," she bit her lip, selecting her words carefully. "Intimidating, but not in a bad way. He demanded respect, I would say, but he also respected others. He was proud, very proud, and formidable. And it goes without saying that he was very brave. He stood up to the Empire from the beginning."

Han smiled a little – in short, he sounded like Leia. Or perhaps Leia was like her father – either way, it was clear that adoptive father or not, he'd passed on his most admirable traits to his daughter.

"I can't tell you if he's going to like you, though," Dansra said, grinning smugly. "I'm not a psychic. The Alderaanian rulers usually married other high-ranking Alderaanians, and those who didn't inherit usually married foreign royals. They were usually not arranged, but often strategically chosen by the individuals involved. I don't know if the Viceroy would consider you an outrage or a slightly shocking quirk."

''M not worried about him liking me," Han retorted, blustering slightly – it was at least half true; he was past the age where he particularly cared if others liked him.

Dansra arched her brows, and Han shrugged.

"Matters more if Leia likes me."

"So you'd make her choose between her father and you?" Dansra asked skeptically.

"No, I wouldn't," Han said flatly. "'Cause that would piss her off and disrespect her." He narrowed his eyes at Dansra. "And from what you described, Viceroy Organa doesn't seem like the type to do that to her, either," he pointed out edgily.

Dansra smiled a little. She brought a nail to her mouth and chewed on the edge of it thoughtfully, nodding quietly. She shot a look over her shoulder at the other guys, falling silent, letting the conversation die. After a moment, she turned back, her expression guarded.

"From a military standpoint, how are you feeling about all this?" she asked quietly.

Han tilted his head to the side.

"Meaning…?"

"Do you think we have a chance of rescuing this ship?" Dansra asked, point-blank. "There's so much chaos in the system, and I guess there's still a chance that it's a big set up – "

Han cleared his throat, leaning forward as he interrupted her.

"I think we'll be able to do somethin'," he said. "Don't know if that's haul the ship out, or haul some people out," he said evenly. "I think if it was a hoax, we'd already be dead."

"Not if they anticipated you calling in the military, assumed the best of our heads would be sent, and wanted to take out all major leadership," Dansra pointed out sharply. "You said yourself Dodonna's bringing Commander Skywalker. I can't believe Princess Leia herself didn't accompany them."

Han ignored that, but frowned slightly.

"You're starting to sound like Leia," he said dryly.

Dansra shrugged half-heartedly.

"The closer I get to seeing some of my people again, the more unbelievable it seems," she confessed quietly.

Han figured that made sense. She was on the precipice of a miracle, and that made it seem impossible to grasp. He offered her an encouraging smile, and leaned back, summoning some of that infamous Solo bravado.

"Don't worry about it, kid," he said easily. "I've never met odds I couldn't beat."

He smirked roguishly – his words were for her, but he was thinking of Leia, and the sliver of brightness that might come back into her world if they could bring this mission to fruition.

Lingering in space somewhere just outside the Alderaanian system, Han stood by a round table in the stateroom of one of the New Republic's military ships. His arms folded, and his vest hanging over a chair behind him, he listened to Dodonna speak.

"Based on what you've said – General Solo, Antilles," Dodonna went on gruffly, drawing his finger along the table, "it's best to approach broadcasting a friendly signal, on the off chance it can be received – but to board the ship with military precision."

"Board it?" Gavin Darklighter asked.

"I think there's little chance of us getting the stranded state ship to fly," Dodonna said frankly, "and despite General Solo's skill in emergency repairs, we're more concerned with getting out of the system and back to Coruscant – there's plenty of room on this ship to board additional passengers."

"But sir," spoke up one of Dodonna's lieutenants. "There could be hundreds of people on a flagship of that size – Princess Leia's flagship had a crew of over four hundred."

Dodonna shared a grim look with Han, and Han cleared his throat.

"With their communications as disabled as they are and, uh, the length of time they've been stranded – not to mention the state of the space around them," he paused, aware of Dansra in the room.

"We're not expecting to find the full original crew present," Luke spoke up, almost apologetically. "Grand state ships like this can sustain life for quite a while, true, but five years on rations, with possible other problems…"

He trailed off, and Dodonna's lieutenant closed his mouth. Nothing more needed to be said, but Han was glad the people in the room were at least aware that there was a possibility that they were preparing to board a ship full of – well, corpses.

"Docking this ship to the stranded ship might be difficult, and coordinating space walks to get all the survivors on board is going to be tedious and dangerous," Luke said heavily. "We need everyone in good form – I'll be leading the Rogue Squadron in defensive maneuvers," he, gesturing at Antilles and Darklighter, as well as the rest of the team who'd arrived with Dodonna. "We'll be guarding against the pirates Han reported, or any other threats that appear in the area."

"And before commencing the rescue, we'll verify that anyone on board is who they say they are – I can easily identify Viceroy Organa," Dodonna said, "but even so, we'll use security questions, and take any high ranking individuals to immediate blood testing in the emergency medical bay."

Dodonna paused a moment, and stood straighter, folding his arms.

"This operation is going to commence tomorrow at standard seven hour – any questions from commanders?"

There was a chorus of murmurs – no; they were all clear.

Dodonna nodded.

"Good – distribute the requisite information to your command teams, and get in the right mindset for what we're facing in the system tomorrow," he ordered. "Dismissed."

The captains and lieutenant colonels who had been a part of the officer briefing dispersed, and when they were alone – well, when the company had dwindled to Dodonna, Han, and Luke, with some of the others lingering just outside the door, Han cleared his throat, leaning forward on the table.

"What's this new information you've got from Taskeen?" he asked gruffly. "This – equation?"

"Ah," mumbled Dodonna tensely, scratching his chin. "It's – gibberish to me," he sighed, glancing at Luke. Luke stepped forward, and took a datapad, pulling up what Han was asking about.

"I don't understand it from a technical standpoint, but I get the gist," he said, handing over the pad to Han – for all he cared, it could have been written in ancient Mustafarian runes. It was too complex for his sensibilities, and he grimaced.

"The physicists haven't stopped exploring why this could have happened," Luke went on. "And while the original White Hole presumption is still the most plausible, one of the more theoretical scientists proposed that such a large disruption in the fabric of the universe – the fabric which, if you're a believer, is governed by the Force – could have suspended the ship in some sort of wormhole, or time warp."

Han snorted.

"An alternate reality?" he asked skeptically.

"That's what I asked," Dodonna muttered grudgingly.

"Great minds think alike, Gen'ral," Han retorted, unable to resist the urge to rib the other man slightly – Leia wasn't around to restrain him with a soft hand, so he milked it a little.

Dodonna gave him an annoyed look, and Luke spoke over them.

"Nothing cinematic," he said hastily. "It just means - it could explain why they survived the time against such odds, and it might mean disorientation once we rescue them."

"Disorientation," Han quoted hesitantly.

"They might not know what year it is," Dodonna said.

"Oh," Han said flippantly. He shrugged. "Hell, even if there was no," he waved his hand wildly, "Force issue," he decided lamely, "I figured they'd have lost track of time at some point. Fried systems, going mad all trapped and isolated," he said. He shrugged again. "All it takes is one day forgetting to make a mark or record a date and," he whistled, "suddenly they're off by a year."

Dodonna considered him with interest.

"Hmmm," he mumbled after a moment. "I suppose that's correct," he agreed, frowning to himself thoughtfully.

He sighed after a moment, and folded his arms.

"My main concern is being able to get any survivors from that ship to this ship without issue – space walks can be nerve-wracking, and in this system…" he trailed off, shaking his head tiredly. "I can't imagine finding Bail Organa alive only to have him killed by debris while I try to take him home," he said haggardly.

Luke glanced at Han, his face taut – Han felt some of his animosity towards Dodonna fade; this was a big responsibility, for them all, and Han didn't want to be the one to tell Leia her father had survived against all odds just to be pulverized right on the brink of a reunion with her, either. Han looked back at Luke for a minute, and then cleared his throat.

"Y'know, kid, might be a good idea for you to hand command of the Rogues over to Antilles," he suggested.

Dodonna looked at them sharply.

"Now's no time to be experimenting with command," he said warily. "Luke, when you leave to focus on the Jedi, we'll gladly allow it, but right now – "

"I don't think Han's talking about an experiment," Luke interrupted slowly. "Han?"

Han nodded at Luke.

"Wedge is more than capable of defending the perimeter," he said flatly. "What you're gonna need during a dangerous space walk with people who might be half-crazed and suspicious is someone whose got his magic tricks."

Luke glared at Han; Han smirked.

Dodonna looked over at Luke with a new light in his eyes.

"Kest – of course," he swore. "Why didn't I think of that?" He narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't want to snatch away your command, Luke, but if you were on the deck and on the ropes with us instead of circling the ship," he stopped, and waited.

Luke grinned a little.

"I can't fend off any asteroids hurtling towards us, but I can be a steadying hand," he said confidently. "I'll talk to Wedge, see if he's good with the change," Luke paused, and then shook his head. "Who am I kidding?" he muttered to himself good-naturedly, giving both Dodonna and Han a friendly nod as he excused himself from the room – leaving the two Generals alone at the stateroom bridge.

There wasn't much else to be done, and even before the issue of the Princess had slightly driven a wedge between the two of them, Han hadn't been best buddies with Jan Dodonna – cordial, yes, and friendly with – but he didn't share the kind of comradery he had with say, Lando Calrissian – or even Rieekan.

He cleared his throat anyway, and stood straighter, folding his arms.

"How was Leia handling this?" he asked bluntly.

Dodonna looked at him carefully, and Han returned his gaze unabashed. It was a fair question, and he'd rather appear concerned about Leia than indifferent to her, because it seemed Dodonna was going to disapprove of it no matter what. The General cleared set his shoulders back and composed his features guardedly.

"With her usual grace," he answered. He paused. "Surely you've spoken with her," he added, with a barely discernible sort of sneer.

Han shrugged.

"Radio silence applied to personal relationships, too," he pointed out.

Dodonna nodded, looking at him silently. He sighed.

"Her highness handles everything with a level head," he said, elaborating a bit more. "She and Mon Mothma were organizing the public outreach on the issue – I think you know as well as I do that Princess Leia has a particular skill at remaining unfazed by everything around her," he added, almost critically.

Without thinking, Han gave him a sour smile.

"You don't know her half as well as you think you do," he said shortly.

He said it partly because he didn't have a chance to censor himself, and partly because Dodonna came dangerously close to sounding like those people who implied Leia was a heartless, soulless politician who never showed enough emotion about her losses because she simply didn't have the emotion to show. He lashed out because – because if the world was privy to half of the emotions Leia dealt with on a nightly basis, they'd crack under the pressure.

Dodonna stiffened, affronted.

"I've known the Princess since she was in her early teens – "

"Yeah, the Princess," Han interrupted. "Not the woman."

"I don't think I like your implication," Dodonna said, flushing.

"Then get your head out of the gutter, General," Han snapped. "I'm not implyin' anything. She gets enough hell from the public, you know."

Dodonna bristled again.

"I am not 'giving her hell'," he quoted. "You'd do well to watch yourself, General – "

"You don't outrank me, General," Han fired back simply. "Not anymore. I don't care if you have a problem with me, even if it's come out of nowhere – "

"You know damn well where it's come from, Solo, we trusted you with Princess Leia – "

"Yeah, well, she's not a product, she doesn't belong to this government," he barked. "She's always liked you, Jan, she's always respected you, Mon Mothma, the other members of the leadership," he said tensely. "You aren't protecting her when you treat her like she can't make her own choices. You're insulting her, and everything she's ever done for you and for the Rebellion."

Dodonna did not respond. He looked away from Han, staring down at the table in front of him. After a moment, he swallowed hard, unclenching his jaw, and looking back at Han with a different expression; less insulted, more unreadable. He cleared his throat.

"Well, that's quite a speech, General Solo," he said quietly.

Han expected to be upbraided, but Dodonna didn't say anything else. Instead, he straightened his uniform, and inclined his head, wordlessly excusing himself. That is, he seemed to be intent on a wordless exit, until he turned around at the door and gave Han an intent look, narrowing his eyes.

"I wonder if you're prepared to give the same speech to her father," he remarked.

Han glared at him narrowly, but chose not to lash out at that comment – he folded his arms stubbornly, and allowed Dodonna to leave the room with the last word. Only when he was alone did he grit his teeth and strike a fist against the table in front of them – he hadn't intended to pick a fight, but he didn't regret it, and regardless of what Dodonna wanted to think, his main concern when it came to Bail Organa wasn't courtship, it was Leia, and the deeply buried fears he knew she had about seeing him again.

In some ways, the execution of the rescue mission was better and worse than they had expected and planned. The Rogue Squadron ran into no trouble patrolling the area for Pirates or residual Imperial presence, and the Space was exactly as unstable as predicted, so the prepared plan for Space Walks was adequate. Still, tensions were running so high that it all somehow felt like the bloodiest of battles.

General Dodonna was in command of the New Republic ship; he took care of receiving the survivors – and there were survivors. Against all odds, against any rational thinking or natural phenomenon, this stranded Alderaanian flagship was harboring over a hundred natives of the planet – though Han suspected there would have been more if they'd been found earlier.

Han, accompanied by Dansra, who was capable of speaking Alderaanian to both comfort and bridge trust, was in charge of vetting the Alderaanians and sending them along with Luke and the other enlisted men to be carted away to medical – the process was painstaking; it took precision, and attention to detail, and what impressed Han the most was that now, at the last, with most of the survivors safely away from the stranded flagship, he came upon two women, and the Viceroy himself – Bail Organa had refused to leave the ship until all of his people were safely spirited away.

Dansra spoke first, urgently.

"It's protocol for your identities to be verified before we carry you off," she repeated again, as she'd said to any other high ranking officials they'd found – there had been eighteen so far, government members, more radical members of an underground Alderaanian society that worked with the Rebellion.

Han had been satisfied with their identities, though one hadn't been in the files he'd reviewed, so he had to ask Dodonna if the name was familiar, and then he'd sent the man along.

"I'm Winter Retrac," one of the women said – Han had recognized her from the picture in her file almost immediately.

"You look like her," Dansra agreed. "General Solo?"

He glanced at his datapad.

"Who was the Alderaanian Minister of Agriculture when Deara Antilles was imprisoned?"

"Valkin Aveeno," Winter Retrac answered softly, without hesitation.

Dansra looked to Han for confirmation, shrugging a little, and he nodded, holding his hand out to Winter. The young woman took it, grasping firmly, and shot a glance back at her leader and the other woman – they both nodded, and Dansra escorted her to Luke, talking to her gently in Alderaanian.

Han cleared his throat and considered the two individuals left.

"Breha and Bail?" he guessed.

The woman swallowed hard, her face pale.

"I'm not Breha," she said. "I'm Rouge Organa."

Han faltered slightly, looking down – he felt a pull in his chest; he'd been sure, when this woman insisted on staying back, as well, that it was Leia's adoptive mother, and if she wasn't – well, that was someone he really would have wanted to see Leia reunited with. He gave no indication of his disappointment, and quickly pulled up Rouge Organa, sister to Bail Organa's, file. There was no picture with hers, but the woman in front of him did have the same olive skin that Bail and his wife both had. He cleared his throat.

"How old was Leia when she had Ibaarian Measles?" he asked.

After a moment, Rouge answered.

"Four."

It was the correct answer, and Han gestured her forward.

"Dansra will take you to the bridge and suit you up – Commander Skywalker will escort you to the waiting ship," he said gruffly.

She clutched his hand, wide brown eyes shimmering.

"We never thought this would happen," she said. "We thought – we'd be stranded – it's miraculous," she stammered.

Dansra approached, smiling encouragingly, and Han nodded, squeezing the hand back quickly.

"Didn't think we'd find something like this either, Miss – uh," he broke off, and Dansra, under her breath, fed him the proper title. "Lady Rouge."

She thanked him again, letting Dansra take her over to the hold, and Han wasted no time in turning to the Viceroy who, though he was disheveled, thin, pale, and obviously brow-beaten, managed to look extremely regal and controlled all the same.

"Provide your question, General," he said calmly.

Han couldn't help a small grin.

"How old was Leia when she dropped a water balloon on Grand Moff Tarkin's head?"

"Thirteen," came the gruff answer. "He wasn't a Grand Moff at the time; he was promoted two months later. My daughter insisted she was watering her plants. Apparently from a third floor balcony fourteen rooms away from said plants."

Han gave a big grin at that, and appreciated the Viceroy's surprising ability to be humorous under such dire, hopeless circumstances. He tucked his datapad away, and nodded, reaching out his hand in a formal gesture of greeting.

"Viceroy," he said gruffly. "Again – General Solo; New Republic," he greeted.

Bail Organa had a firm handshake, but he only gave Han a grim look.

"I'll be more grateful when I'm standing with my people on that rescue vessel and I can view the future with some hope again," he told him frankly.

Han was on the verge of telling him he sounded just like his daughter, with his lack-of-hope-until-after-the-fact-philosophy, but Dansra appeared with Luke at her heels, her face strained.

"Dodonna's worried if we wait any longer the connection between ships will destabilize," she said.

"Let's move, Viceroy," Han said, straightening up. He ushered Leia's father towards Luke, and Organa stopped, staring at the young man.

"Luke Skywalker," he murmured, his eyes widening slightly.

Luke inclined his head respectfully, his brows furrowing slightly.

"You recognize me?" He asked - Bail Organa had heard that Luke Skywalker was helping with the rescue, but to know him on sight? Had he known far more about him than Ben Kenobi let on.

The Viceroy looked at him intently, his eyes unreadable.

"You have your father's eyes," he said, very quietly.

Han watched Luke's face change, watched the curiosity, the awe, the excitement - but the statement only gave Han chills, because Luke had grown up with an Uncle; there was no chance Bail was talking about anyone other than Vader, and, and the image of a pair of kind, blue eyes hidden behind that black mask was unnerving.

"I'll get you across the spacewalk safely, sir," he assured him.

"My – sister, and Winter?" Organa began to ask, as Luke led him off.

"Safely aboard."

Luke started a conversation, and Han checked the area before he started away, noticing Dansra hadn't followed him after he was halfway down the hall to the open bridge. He turned, and noticed her standing with her head bowed. He waited a moment, and then cleared his throat.

"Dansra," he started, firm, but without reprimand.

She turned slowly, and looked around.

"You know the flagships of planets are considered the soil of their origin planet," she said tightly, her eyes shimmering. "All laws, all customs of a planet – they apply on the ship. Like it was a city. An extension of the world."

Silently, Han nodded. She took a deep breath.

"So, this is the last time I'll ever set foot on Alderaan."

He swallowed hard. They had decided the ship was unsalvageable - and any hope they had of getting artifacts or native things of the planet to take back were obliterated as they'd boarded and explored; things had been so depleted as the stranded occupants struggled to survive with increasingly little supplies, there was almost nothing left.

"There's the Embassy, Dansra," he offered, thinking of Leia's office in Coruscant, her work with the council.

She nodded, but he could tell there was something different about this place. He waited a beat longer, and then called her name again, urgently – without a word, she turned and hurried over to him. He took her elbow to hurry her along, but he gave it a steadying squeeze to offer silent comfort – and together, they began to suit up to follow Luke and the Viceroy to safety.

The quiet chaos they found when they arrived back on the New Republic military vessel was to be expected; Luke had already mentioned that most of the Alderaanians, after setting foot upon truly safe terrain and starting to realize they were going to be okay, had gone into varying states of shock and confusion – and as they began to seal up the ship and get out of their EV suits, Han was not surprised that even the highest ranking members were affected.

Bail Organa was holding onto Dodonna's shoulders like his life depended on it.

"….'New Republic', for the sake of the Gods, how long has it been?" he demanded, eyes wild. "Who is in charge? Who's alive?"

"We left the planet – we hadn't even gotten too far from the atmosphere, revving for the hyperspace jump when the explosion happened – we haven't had contact with anyone – " Winter Retrac was clinging to Luke, talking rapidly, and Rouge Organa stood next to her, refusing to be dragged to the medical bay by an ensign.

"The whole planet?" she gasped. "The whole planet, gone? Eradicated? The whole planet?" she kept repeating it.

Bail Organa turned around.

"Rouge, allow them to take you to medical – cooperate!" he ordered.

He leaned heavily against the wall, turning from Dodonna, shaking his head.

"The explosion did something terrible to the space around us, caught us mid-jump. We guessed what must have happened - but she wouldn't accept it, no matter how long we were there, no matter how many times we managed to hear news," Organa said hoarsely.

"Bail," Dodonna said carefully.

The Viceroy stood up again, pressing his hand to his temple. Rouge, finally persuaded to go with the ensign, left the room, and Luke had managed to quiet Winter, who pulled away from him, and stepped towards Han.

"You led the scout mission that saved us?" she asked. "A General of the New Republic?" she went on rapidly – fiercely. "The Empire's gone?" she asked, her eyes searching frantically. "Darth Vader?"

Han rubbed the back of his neck tensely, sharing a glance with both Luke and Dodonna – somehow, despite expecting the Alderaanians to be disoriented, they hadn't truly considered the extent of it. He cleared his throat, and nodded.

"He's dead," Han assured her. "I saw the body burn."

Winter Retrac covered her mouth and closed her eyes; she murmured something in a burst of Alderaanian, and sat down on the floor. Bail gave her a sympathetic look, and then glanced between them all.

"The ship – communications broke down gradually, occasionally worked when electromagnetism went in our favor," he said. "We were trapped in – on the edge of hyperspace, almost – time seemed to freeze," he went on rapidly. His brow furrowed, he shook his head. "The plans, then, Leia got the plans to the Rebellion?" he asked.

Luke shared a particularly strained look with Han, but it was Dodonna who cleared his throat.

"There are people who can brief you better on the science of this on Coruscant," he said. "Bail – the question is, what were you doing leaving the planet? You, Lady Rouge, Miss Retrac – "

Bail took a harrowing breath.

"We intended to alert the Senate and then join you, Jan, on Yavin, to be sure we could find out for ourselves what happened – one way or another, we were going to kick start a tangible resistance, and we needed proof, proof that," he paused, his face falling grimly. "Breha and I weren't sure Leia was killed in an accident," he said.

"We left to avenge her!" Winter cried suddenly, her eyes red. "We were going to expose what they did to her!"

"There wasn't an accident," Luke said, his face lighting up.

"We know it wasn't an accident," Winter snapped violently. "Whatever happened to her – to Tantive IV – they did it – "

"You don't understand," Dodonna interrupted. "There wasn't an accident at all."

Bail Organa looked between them all, but it was Han who caught his eye – and he did it as deliberately as possible, his eyes blazing, determined to get to be the one who changed this man's life. If the Viceroy, Winter, the Alderaanians – they thought they were emerging into the world so soon after Alderaan's destruction, they had so much to learn, and so much to be shocked and awed by – they had no current information, and when he realized Bail Organa still thought his daughter was probably dead, Han relished telling him it wasn't true.

"Leia's alive," he said.

He wasn't using Leia's title, and he realized that when he saw a warning look on Dodonna's face – but Han had no intention of using these moments to inform Bail Organa of his relationship to Leia, and he sure as hell knew Jan wasn't going to. He wasn't very refined in the realm of social etiquette, but at the very least he knew better than to add 'and by the way, I'm sleeping with her.'

Bail's face took on a new light, and he moved forward, shaking his head.

"She's alive?"

"She's alive, sir," Luke agreed earnestly. "They took her prisoner on the Death Star, but we got her out. She's alive."

"She's waiting on Coruscant," Han added simply.

Bail Organa's lips parted in shock, relief. Winter, scrambling up from the floor, gave a cry and flew to him, throwing her arms around his neck tightly – she started to cry, and Dodonna looked away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. Han assumed she expressed such familiarity towards the Viceroy because she'd been as much of a daughter to him as Leia had been – or so her file said, when it talked of the Organas fostering her.

"Leia's alive," Bail repeated – not a question, a statement of wonder.

Luke laughed, glad to brighten the moment.

"How else do you think I turned up?" he joked. "If she hadn't sent off to Obi-Wan on Tatooine – "

"Oh, Commander Skywalker," Bail said hoarsely. "You would have found yourself at the heart of this rebellion in some way or another," he said, almost mystically.

Han folded his arms without speaking, and Luke considered the leader intently.

"You and I will have a lot to discuss, Viceroy," he said mildly.

Darkly, Han thought about all of the things that Bail Organa would, indeed, have to answer for – Leia's parentage, her questions about her upbringing, her destiny – he felt guarded suddenly, unsure of this person.

Organa seemed to sense this, and he looked up at Han for a moment, studying him. He gave him a nod – a nod of thanks, or maybe a nod that suggested he'd get to him later, this mysterious general who came for him among familiar names like Dodonna and Skywalker. When Bail lifted his chin, Han saw a flash of silvery metal glinting at his neck, a thin circlet, hidden partially by the collar of his threadbare clothing; probably the necklace Dansra had mentioned. The Viceroy turned to Dodonna stiffly, comforting Winter with one hand.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," he began tightly. "How long has it been?"

Dodonna set his jaw and glanced briefly at Luke before deciding it was best to get the answer over with quickly.

"Five years."

Han carefully watches the look that spread over Bail Organa's face – Dodonna quickly reminded him there would be in depth briefing sessions, that he'd be brought up to speed on what was going on, but it was clear from the daunted look in the Viceroy's eyes, the hollow paleness that struck his cheeks, and the shadows under his eyes, that he knew adjusting in this new world was going to be infinitely more complicated than simply sitting through a few briefings – and for that, Han took pity on him. Having just emerged from the more brutal trenches of cleaning up the Empire and building a new world, he knew that surviving hell was twice as hard as dying in it.

at last the suspense ends! sort of.
i made up the bits about Alderaanian marriage customs. at least, i think i did (unless i absorbed that via osmosis somewhere and don't remember where). it adds a unique nuance and ... speaks to my personal abhorrence of wearing rings, haha.

-alexandra