Luke felt Leia's resistance, like she was anchoring herself somewhere and refusing to move. She sat on the bunk in her cabin, her body held tightly. He'd felt her meditating on her own before; knew she was open to it, even welcomed it. What had caused the change? Her anxiety radiated off her like heat on skin from the Tatooine suns.
"Come on," he encouraged her. "It will help you think."
Clouded head, brilliant heart. Yoda had said that exact phrase to her not long ago. "Maybe that's just it. I've been thinking too much," Leia said.
"Well." Luke wasn't sure how to proceed. He didn't want to force her into doing something she was reluctant to. "Tell me what you've been thinking. Is it Coruscant?"
It was. "Yes..." That, and Sullust. He's leaving you. You'll be alone.
He smiled gently at her. "Let's try. You can just follow along on my meditations, if you like. Maybe at least ease your mind about Coruscant."
She nodded curtly. Emboldened, Luke directed her to lie on the floor of her cabin. "Take a deep breath," he instructed.
Leia did as she was told, feeling air fill her belly. She held it a moment, hearing her pulse in her ear. Then she let it leak out of her body, slowly. Both Luke's and her exhales made a noisy rasp. Vader.
He was thinking it, too, their healthy inhales reminding them of the noise of their father's respirator.
Luke's thoughts wandered from his father to Ben and his Uncle Owen, the two men who were more like fathers than his own had been. He saw his family and his home, and felt Leia beside him. Always sensitive to his moods, her presence was consoling, comforting. He crawled his fingertips to barely touch hers.
Share with me yours, he asked.
Leia squeezed her eyes tightly closed. He's your brother, she reminded herself. He's leaving, but he's your brother.
On his back, face to the ceiling, and eyes closed, Luke smiled slightly. Leia began to express herself in a charming story.
She was a child. I'm Leilei, she informed Luke. The little girl ran along a landscape that was both manicured and wild. Leilei dashed to a water feature and dipped her hands in to throw water in Luke's direction. Laughing, she sprinted away again, and Luke followed. Leilei ran atop a stone wall. She was sure-footed and fleet. She ran, thrilling at how her speed billowed her skirt and moved her hair. Luke understood; it was how he felt racing his Skyhopper in the canyons.
They enjoyed the outdoors together for a time until eventually the stone wall came to a juncture and Leilei stopped. She faced the corner and she and Luke looked out at the vista. Luke thought if this was truly Leia's home than it was no wonder she missed it so. It was the most beautiful place he had ever seen, and he had traveled fairly extensively since joining the Rebellion. Before them spread a green meadow, undulating gently in small rises dotted with wild flowers. The meadow coursed along until it met a mature forest. Tall, wide trees stretched to a blue sky. Luke could see water in the distance; he thought perhaps a large lake. Leilei turned from her position atop the wall and showed Luke her home.
It was a palace; there was no doubt of its purpose. The architecture was grand and sweeping. There were high, arched windows, curved walls, and roofs that narrowed into graceful spires. The elaborate features identified a palace but the fluttering curtains in the windows revealed a home, smooth and comfortable, despite the size. Leilei stared at her home, and Luke felt her heart grow heavy with melancholy. The longer they stared at it the more bereft and despairing she became.
Luke looked at Leia in surprise, but she merely looked like Leia. He'd had no idea of the extent of her isolation before. Now, in taking in the view of her childhood home, her loneliness was laid bare before him.
Leilei ran away, towards the palace. Luke followed her through an entrance set in a side wall, through a handsomely carved door elegant in paned glass. Inside the ceilings were impossibly high and the walls were papered in a rich burgundy. The many windows, tall and glowing with sunshine, made the room warm and comforting. A woman sat in a chair in the room. At her feet was a basket, filled with glossy fiber. She held a piece of fabric and was stitching with a slender golden needle.
Leilei ran to the lap of her mother, burying her face in the folds of the skirt.
"Leilei, whatever is it?" her mother asked in loving concern.
Leilei raised her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying, her voice all nasal. She was desolate, alone, so lonely. "Mama," the little girl cried.
"You've been crying," her mother observed gently, cupping her palm with the utmost tenderness along her cheek.
"I'm so sad, Mama," the little girl said. "I can't stop crying. You'll be gone, Mama, you'll be gone and I'll be alone."
"Hush, Sweetheart," her mother said. "I'm right here; you'll always have me." They hugged, and as they hugged the mother began to fade. Little Leilei clutched at her mother's figure, wailing and crying for her to stay, but soon nothing was left of the room; not her mother or her needlework.
The scene changed. Leilei was grown; she was Leia. She was on the Death Star, working side by side with stormtroopers. She wore the quilted Rebel snow uniform of Hoth but since it was white the storm troopers accepted her as one of their own. The crew were working to build the unfinished weapons station. They were to mortar blocks of durocrete to each other and finish a wall.
The wall was gray and smooth, impersonal and cold. It was about thigh high. She worked hard, persistently.
An Imperial Captain came along, and Luke recognized Han. He took a durocrete block out of Leia's hands.
"No, no, Princess," he told her. "You can't put that there."
"But Captain," crew member Leia protested, "That's where it goes. It's to build the wall."
"Nope," Imperial Captain Han casually denied her. "Time to stop building the wall. The Rebels have broken through."
Han was very unlike an officer. When a trooper wasn't looking, he would remove a block. Soon he had his own stockpile. He did his best to hinder the process. Leia began to yell at him.
Then Luke saw himself. He was walking down the corridor, in the company of the Emperor. "Hi, Leia," he greeted her.
"What are you doing?" she demanded to know.
"The Emperor and I are strolling. We're friends now. He's telling me about building this station," Luke explained.
"No," Leia shook her head at him. He could feel how horrified she was. "Captain," she demanded of Han, "it's the Emperor!"
"You're right," Han said, and threw a duroblock at him. The Emperor raised his hand, almost leisurely, and electricity arched out of it and threw Han backwards. His body left the Death Star and Leia could see him floating out in space. "He was your Captain," she shouted to Luke, her voice so loud it almost couldn't be heard.
That was enough for Luke. He grabbed her fingers and squeezed her hand. "Leia, stop."
She was breathing hard, trying not to cry.
"Leia," he called, sitting up and pulling her to him. He cupped his palm along her cheek, borrowing what her mother had done. "Don't, don't."
"I wish you hadn't seen that," she said.
"You're so alone, I feel it," he soothed. "I'm so sorry. Shh, Leia, shh. But we're not going to leave you, Han or I. We're not." He wondered what kind of cad he'd been never to sense her isolation before.
"You are," she argued. "I'll be here, and you'll be there, getting yourselves killed."
Luke closed his eyes. He wanted to answer her, to reassure her, but she was right; they could get killed. They were going after the Emperor. There was no saying how this would turn out.
He thought about the scene she had revealed. Why was she working on the Death Star? It was the place that brought her all this despair and loneliness. Why was she helping to fortify it? And Han – here Luke could grin because he frustrated her as much whether they were Imperials or Rebels – Han wouldn't let her build the wall. "Don't be afraid, Leia."
"But I am. I am. I just got you, and now I can lose you all over again. I don't think I can do it again."
"You can," he said softly. She leveled her face with his, looking at him in curious betrayal.
"You had such a shock," he said. He repeated it, to let her know how big it was, and that he understood. "Such a shock. And you shut down. Kind of like Maranya I guess. This wall went up, to protect you."
Leia screwed her face up in distaste. "Like Maranya?" she questioned dubiously.
"Well, I just mean, it's hard to handle that heartbreak. You've been trying to protect yourself. But it happened when you were alone. Han and I missed you by that much," he pinched his forefingers together with a wry, sad smile. "You see why that wall won't go back up."
"You mean because I have you two. But I might lose you," she repeated. "It's almost easier to have a wall."
"That isn't living, though," Luke said.
"It's living safely." There was a hint of a smile on Leia's lips. Her words came back at her, the argument weak and silly, really. To have the wall, and feel nothing, or to have Luke and Han, even a memory of them.
"You can't live flat," Luke said. He frowned, wondering if there was a better word to express what he meant. He wished C-3PO were in the room. "Flat," he repeated. He decided it wasn't a bad choice. "When you're at peace, then you know joy with sadness. The extreme emotions, the ones that really hurt, they can't maintain themselves. They fizzle out. Then they leave something a little more gentle."
"What would help is if you tell me you both won't get killed."
"Yeah." Luke smiled. "We can't know. But we can't not do anything just because we don't know, because we're afraid of what can happen. That puts us back at the beginning, with Yoda and Anakin."
"We can just fight the war like we've been doing," Leia offered, hearing again how weak her suggestions were.
"It'll go on forever like that. And we could still die. You wouldn't be protecting anyone but yourself." Luke sighed. He felt Leia nod against him. "I, for one, am glad to see you start feeling again. I guess I have to give Han credit for it, for you starting to take the wall down. I'd like to think I had something to do with it, though," he hinted.
Leia sniffed. "You're my brother." She thought about what Luke had said. "He's got more walls than I do, and he's taking mine down?" she said wryly.
"It is ironic. Maybe you're taking some of his down."
"I don't know," Leia mused. "I think he has some new ones."
"You mean since Jabba's?"
Leia sighed. "Yes."
"Hang in there," Luke encouraged. "One way or the other, it'll iron itself out."
That wasn't really the answer Leia wanted. None of this was.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The cockpit was once again crowded. Doc Brack and Maranya had requested to be up front when the Falcon exited hyperspace, just to experience the novelty of space travel. Leia and Luke wanted to get a look at the Rebel fleet over Sullust.
Luke shifted on his feet behind Han's chair, trying to adjust to the various emotions crowding his own in the cockpit as well. He was touched by how Doc Brack and Maranya marveled with awe at the sight. He still sensed a steely resolve from Leia, and wondered if perhaps he'd ended the meditation too soon. Something still seemed to be gnawing at her, something beyond his and Han's imminent departure. He could tell Han and Chewie were impressed, which was hard to accomplish, and they were guarded, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Yoda, and Luke probed his master carefully and quietly so as not to risk his ire, was nervous. Interesting, thought Luke. What was he nervous about? Their upcoming mission? Returning to action? Returning to society? Someone else needs to meditate, Luke said to himself. Then he silently berated himself for being cheeky. But it made him realize the relationship between Yoda and himself was changing. They weren't strictly teacher and student any longer. They were becoming more equals. There were things Yoda had helped Luke learn and Luke had taken off running, becoming better at them than Yoda.
Flight traffic responders directed them to a docking berth. Han and Chewie busied themselves with shutting down the ship.
Leia waited near the access ramp, her packed bags around her feet and her hair arranged in a new style.
"Think they'll give us a tour?" Luke asked Han in a playful tone.
Han snorted. "Not sure we'll be too welcome," he said.
They bantered back and forth about the size of the base and their status as non-members. Leia listened to their voices while staring at her bag, the one she had torn the patch off to give to Chewie when she appointed him acting general of Hutt interests. She'd given Chewie an active role and she'd vandalized Alliance property in the process.
Han and Luke sounded anticipatory, almost excited, but she had a pit of dread in the bottom of her stomach. She would be whisked back on base, back to meetings, planning sessions, strategy. Here there wouldn't be too much consideration for the Committee for the Displaced and she wondered now if Mon Mothma had been patronizing her on Tatooine.
I'm not a fighter.
The realization hit her with a jolt, considering the way she'd spent the last three years. But, it was true. She had refused a lightsaber. She had brought Darth Vader down with words, not weapons. She had always believed in the need for the war, for the end to the Empire, but she now saw more clearly her role in bringing that about.
Her role in the Alliance had started as a convenient cover. Her father had arranged for the plans to the Death Star to be delivered to her while she was on a diplomatic mission and she in turn would deliver them. That was as far as she had planned. Then her ship was taken captive and she became a prisoner of war aboard the Death Star. When Alderaan was blown up she had joined the fight, actively. She had done it because there was nowhere else to go. She had done it to fight for the memory of Alderaan and she had done it because she was so filled with rage and shock and someone needed to pay.
She'd glimpsed so much more, her time away. Maybe the Force had shown her. She had come into her own. She was no longer a Princess, a Senator; but she was a sister and she was a politician, and she was Force sensitive. Her gift was not in the fight but in insight. Even now she was doing it: she was reading her fellow passengers.
Maranya needed someone familiar. She was frightened and overwhelmed. Doc Brack bristled with optimism. She sensed an antisocial air about Yoda, as if he felt this initial meeting to be a necessary evil. Luke was patient. He had a goal and he knew his own purpose collided with the Alliance's, and he knew to just wait them out. Han was edgy, and underneath that was a need to convince her, to prove himself. She offered him a sad smile, thinking of walls. One was standing next to him.
"Keep her with you," she told him, gesturing with her chin toward Maranya. The girl's eyes were wide with uncertainty. Leia was uncomfortable, charging Han with her, and she wasn't exactly sure why, but it wasn't fair to turn Maranya over to base officials without someone watching out for her. Maranya had mentioned to Leia she thought Han wanted her to die, but she also knew Maranya would respond better if Han were along. Someday she'd get to the bottom of it. Someday. But now was not the time.
"Where will I go?" Maranya asked.
"Everywhere and nowhere," Han answered sardonically.
Chewie patted her on the head. "Don't worry," he assured her. "They'll take care of you."
"Chewbacca says your custody will include the highest of consideration and regard," C-3PO translated.
"I did not say that," Chewie grumbled.
"My elaboration included your gesture and body language," C-3PO explained haughtily.
"You read too much into things," Chewie said under his breath.
"I missed my squadron when they were on Tatooine," Luke chatted easily. "I'm hoping to catch them here."
"Invite 'em aboard the Falcon," Han advised. "Seriously, I don't think they'll give you clearance for all areas."
"You may be right."
"'Course I'm right."
"I'm going to try and wander around anyway. I want to check the base out. Never seen it all gathered in one place," Luke said.
"You won't leave, will you?" Leia asked suddenly, sounding panicked as the thought just struck her. "You won't without saying goodbye?" Her eyes traveled between the two men in her life. Han was loose but tense at the same time; Luke just glowed with quiet confidence.
"We'll wait for you," Luke told her, and Han turned her shoulders and aimed her towards the ramp as it started to open.
"Have fun!" Chewie chortled, and she gave him a dark look as the ramp finished its descent and she stepped out.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Han sat in the only chair in the room, his gaze distant yet steady on the sleeping figure in the bed.
It hadn't been as difficult to move about the base as he had thought. Maybe it was because he'd never really been an official member of the Alliance, and been allowed to come and go as long as he had landing clearance and a hold full of cargo. They were a little tougher on Luke, though. When he refused to be shut in a room to be questioned again about his plans, they had Wedge Antilles escort him around.
But it being a military base, it was as paranoid as it was slack. It let an officially resigned-turned-renegade Commander move about with an escort while it holed Doc Brack and Maranya in a room for hours, making sure of their bona fides and checking their back stories. The officials, and Han didn't recognize these personnel, had questioned the pair with what Han regarded as polite hostility.
They could track Doc Brack. He had a trail. They uncovered a promising future of strong academics, financial records showing increased debt and a revoked medical license. His story was accepted and his treatment shifted to how he could help the Alliance.
Maranya was a different matter. There was a birth record, and enrollment at a school on Tatooine. Then she disappeared. The investigative team was suspicious. Finger prints, retinal scans, DNA code all turned up nothing. Han felt they seemed to think she had just sprung into being, which was ridiculous. Maranya was becoming more and more upset. She initially asked about getting her jaw treated, but as their tone didn't soften she stopped talking and wrapped her arms tightly about herself, looking at the ground. Han knew she felt herself as much on display as she had at Jabba's, and that she didn't know why or how or that she even was, but she was humiliated. He lost his temper at them.
"Look at her," he snarled. "You idiots think she's got it in her to be a double agent? She's been with a Jedi Knight, for kriff's sake, and he's been drawing pictures with her!"
That had been a mistake, to mention Yoda, as he had not disembarked from the Falcon and no one knew he was on base. It sent off a flurry of excitement, worry and fussing, instigating several comm calls to the Falcon. Han backpedaled. "OK, OK, forget I said anything. What happened to the other freed ones?" Han asked. "We sent a shuttle from Tatooine five, six days ago. Are they still here?"
One of the investigators nodded.
"Did you put them through this or was it enough the Princess vouched for them? I vouch for her; they'll vouch for her. She's just a kid." For the first time since he met her Han felt sorry for her. She was just a kid. A bad kid. No, a kid that had bad things happen, that had to do bad things. He shuddered. "Odds are better for someone to become enslaved to a Hutt than to become Palpatine's spy," he snapped. "We're outta here. You gonna shoot me or tell me where medical is? We promised her treatment."
In the end they had let him go. Leia had asked him to stay with her until they got her settled somewhere, so he waited while she underwent a procedure to have her jaw broken and knit.
Now he sat at her bedside, waiting for her to wake up. He was leaning back comfortably, his arms sprawled against the armrests, but his booted foot jiggled rhythmically against the leg of her medcot.
A kid….He had called Luke a kid, still did. And he and Maranya were both from Tatooine, both moisture farmers. Except she was really still a kid last she saw her farm. And her parents hadn't died protecting her, like Luke's aunt and uncle; they had completely given her up for their own safety. They were monsters.
Maranya sighed and turned her head slightly. Han could see light signs of the future bruise a bone knitter always left. He halted his thoughts, watching her carefully for signs of waking.
She looked better; normal. It used to be the sight of her misshapen jaw made him want to punch her and think she was a monster but now he could see she was just a girl.
She made a noise. She would wake soon. Hurry up, he urged in his head. I want to get the fuck outta here.
Her parents were monsters, Han decided. And they sent her to live with other monsters. She was like a character in a fairy tale, one who got caught on the wrong side of the story and couldn't find her way out. And then nobody was left to tell her story so they forgot about her.
Her eyelids were moving rapidly. "Maranya?" he said softly. You're half monster. Han continued the fairly tale while he waited. That's what they do. The monsters raise you as their own and then they send you out make you turn others into monsters. It's how they breed.
She kept her head to the side, staring at the gray curtain that separated her recovery bunk from the one next to her, creating a privacy screen. She spent long minutes seeing the curtain, wondering what it was, and listening. Wherever she was it was an active place, but quiet. She heard foot falls shuffle, hushed voices, work being done. Her bed was moving a little bit, in a tempo, like someone was rapping it. She turned her head to take in the view of the other side of her room. "Solo?"
His dark eyes met hers. "Hi."
"Wha-?"
"Thought you should see a familiar face when you woke up."
"Woke?"
"Yeah." He decided to be as unhelpful as she had been to him in many conversations. He clamped his jaw, forbidding any information to leak out.
"Am I...did I… is this still the base?"
Han's face softened. "Yeah."
"Are they done?"
"Done?"
"I mean," she was starting to remember. "I had my," they had named it something, but she couldn't remember what it was called. "Am I fixed?"
"It's fixed," Han said gently. It was the one thing she'd really wanted to happen; the one aspect of her future she could envision.
Her hand went to her jaw, touching it lightly. She brushed her fingers over her lips and her eyes shone in gratitude at Han. "I'm normal?" she asked.
"Well," he shook his head slightly. "You can't quite say that, but yeah, it's fixed."
She was not stung by Han's answer, and he felt a little guilty for abusing her when she wouldn't even understand she was abused.
"It's fixed," she breathed.
"Want to see it?" Han looked around the room for a reflector, but there wasn't one. Two of the walls were curtain. He got up and went into the 'fresher. One was attached to the wall over the sink. He tried to detach it but it was firmly bonded to the surface. He left the 'fresher and looked around the room some more. On a shelf was a metal pan. It might be for people to be sick in, but right now it was empty and clean.
He brought it to Maranya's bedside. "When you're ready to stand I'll take you to the 'fresher. But for now use this."
She took the pan from his and angled it several times before she got more than the top of her head reflected in the pan. She gasped in delight. "I'm fixed," she whispered excitedly.
"You look a lot better," he admitted. He wondered if there was an ending to the fairly tale, if they'd be allowed to make their own.
"I want to see it in the 'fresher." Her hands patted the spikes of her short hair.
He smiled at her eagerness. "Not yet. I'll get a med droid to assess if you can get up." He made to leave.
"Then what?" It had returned to her, the feeling of animosity she'd been greeted with. "Are you leaving? Will I go with you?"
"No," Han said quickly. "No." He paused a moment, looking at her seriously. "You'll stay here for now."
"What will I do? I don't like it here."
"You don't?" Han returned to the chair and sat again, his elbows leaning on his thighs. He didn't blame her for not feeling welcome; he hadn't gotten a good impression of the base either.
"No. These aren't my friends. Remember, at Jabba's, you said friends helping was good."
"Yeah..."
"And on your ship, it felt good."
Leave my ship out of this. "You made friends."
"And now Chewie leaves. And Yoda. And you."
"Doc Brack is still here," Han offered.
"How many times did you think of killing me? At Jabba's." she asked.
The question came so unexpectedly and out of the blue that Han almost answered. "I - what?"
"Because then it would end for us. I thought of killing you."
"You did?"
"Twice. If you were dead I would be alone. I wanted you to die, and you wanted me to die. I know it. That's how we all think. Thought. Us, at Jabba's. But I didn't kill you, because I know you wanted me dead, but you didn't kill me. So you are my friend."
Han pursed his lips, trying to understand. "That's some crazy logic, but okay." He looked down at her bedsheets, wondering when she had plotted killing him.
"It wouldn't have changed anything. Killing you. Or you me. We would just go somewhere else. Right? You'd get a new slave in the cell; every night, the choice of the Rancor. I would go somewhere else, still show seed when morning came. Nothing would change, just the beings. And you stood up for me. I let you live. I didn't know then, but I do now. It was because you are my friend. That's what your ship taught me."
"My ship taught you," he repeated dryly. "I'll be right back. I'll get a droid." He brushed through a curtain, thinking. She hadn't learned he was her friend, because he wasn't. But she was comfortable on his ship, and that counted for something. Maybe the monster could be tamed.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Leia surreptitiously watched the ramp and cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. She didn't see any signs of activity at all. Chewie and Yoda had left, pulled into a meeting with Mon Mothma once she had learned of Yoda's presence on base. Yoda had not been pleased to become a cause celebre. She had seen him slapping his walking stick with each step and complaining to Chewie in between huffs of loud sighs. Luke had told C-3PO to attend to Leia's needs, and she had finally managed to sneak away from him by giving him a tedious job at a data terminal. Luke was in the hangar bay, raucously exchanging stories with Rogue Squadron. They at least were not drinking. And she knew Han was still with Maranya because she had asked him to be.
Gingerly, cloaking herself with the Force, she crept up the ramp and stole into her cabin.
She had made a decision. She was not a fighter.
They had taken up where they had left off, just as she had suspected. Included her in meetings, in strategy sessions, in fighting this war. Three years ago they had included her because they didn't know what else to do with her and because she had insisted and because she was Bail Organa's daughter. She was a quick learner. She had to downplay her role as Senator Princess Leia of Alderaan because the Senate was no more, Alderaan was no more, and Princess Leia was famous for having escaped the Death Star. It was during the second meeting, when everyone keyed up their data boards to view the number of fleet in the Hunnarrd System that she realized they didn't need her. She'd been gone for months, and they had grown a fleet just fine without her.
Mon Mothma was more interested in Yoda and the Jedi presence for the Rebellion at the moment. The job of fashioning a new government now was not as urgent to Mothma as it was to Leia because it seemed they were so far from winning.
Leia decided to take action that would hopefully hasten the need for planning. She wasn't a fighter, but she was going to help end this war a little faster. She was going to join Luke on his mission against the Emperor.
She was not a fighter. She was not yet sure how she could be of service to them, but she would figure something out. As she palmed the door to her cabin shut, and became a stowaway, Leia smiled. She'd often complained of Han's spur-of-the-moment decisions, and now she was acting just like him.