Han stood with Leia at the top of the Falcon's ramp access as the others filed by. He leaned casually against the wall, boots crossed at the ankles and arms against his chest. Again, he felt at odds watching Doc Brack and Maranya file behind General Rieekan, noting their Alliance issued clothing and thinking he should have at least changed his shirt after doing all that scrubbing. Rieekan tossed them a nod and Doc Brack and Maranya both breezed by, eager to be back on the Falcon. Chewie, carrying satchels by their handles in each hand, halted at the ramp top immediately, stopping Luke's progress, who was also saddled with bags and covered trays.

"Chewie," Leia heard Luke complain, completely hidden by the bulk of the Wookiee's body.

Chewie sniffed. "I smell soap," he said.

"Careful when you're heating all that food up," Han wagged a finger at him. "I don't want to see a crumb. Falcon sparkles like a night sky."

Chewie appraised the pair. Leia still wore one of Han's shirts, but had altered it from Senator's garb to layer it over black leggings. It was hard not to miss the traces of dirt and grime trailing down Han's own shirt. "Did you use him as a mop?" he asked her, indicating Han, glad to see her standing beside him, sociable and affable.

"Can't clean him up; might as well clean with him," Leia answered with a smile.

Chewie let out a laugh and Luke pecked her on the cheek. "BX19 gave us all this food. He said it was going to spoil in the Palace since he was only feeding me." He lifted his sundry packages as evidence. "Han show you my message?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Mon Mothma wants to talk with you," he whispered, and followed Chewie into the galley.

Mon Mothma stood at the bottom of the ramp. She did not appear to want to enter. Her eyes looked back and forth from Han to Leia, as if she couldn't decide what to make of Leia's poise and Han's dirty shirt. She seemed to be awaiting an invitation, and did not speak.

"Do you bite, Princess?" Han asked loudly.

Leia knew Han was baiting Mothma; he had done it enough with her own dealings with him in the past. His disdain for authority within the military setting of the Rebel bases was a major frustration for all who dealt with him but Leia had learned it was not borne out of insecurity; it was a foundation he'd built from past experiences.

Maybe it started with Madame, Leia reflected; the woman who ran the orphanage Han stayed at. How can you respect someone who only pretends to care about your well being? And then there was his service in the Imperial Navy. His superior officers cared nothing for other lives, treating the Wookiee slaves like some sort of product. Han also moved fluidly in the world of falsifying documentation and pretending to be someone he was not, like the Kwilaan Captain who infiltrated the Palace. Han had established a rapport based on a lie. The Imperial officer had offered a salute to him, when Han knew he hadn't earned it or even deserved it. Did he enjoy the lying, Leia wondered? Was it a game, this abuse of social conventions, or did it turn on him, eat away at his own self-respect?

Leia had thought he had more respect for Mon Mothma, but maybe he was lashing out at her for what had happened during the last Senate session. Leia was feeling vindictive enough about her own dispatch from the Senate that she played along. "No, I don't. Do you?"

"I've been known to," Han answered wryly. "But today I'm playing nice."

Mon Mothma took a step forward. "I wanted to see you, Your Highness," she told Leia.

"Would you like to come aboard?" It was an invitation, yet Leia still heard a sardonic, almost menacing tone in Han's voice.

Mothma ignored him. "Is there somewhere we can talk, Princess?" she asked.

Leia hesitated. The Falcon was a freighter; not a large ship and one whose accommodations suited cargo, not social interactions. She ruled the lounge out; it would be crowded with the others gathering in it for a meal. Leia did not want to invite Mothma to sit on the small bunk she slept on in a tiny cabin; that felt like more what girl friends did, or at least equals. Nor did she feel like sitting on the floor of a cargo bay, and she wouldn't be so rude to Mon Mothma to ask her to do that, either. She looked up at Han. "Can we sit in the cockpit?"

Han gestured with his chin. "Why don't you sit in there," he suggested, indicating the speeder Mon Mothma had arrived in.

"We could," Leia considered. He either did not want the Senator on his ship at all, or he was giving them a chance to be able to speak frankly, on neutral ground. In light of everything, that seemed to be a good idea.

Mon Mothma came swiftly to the same conclusion. "I can't stay long." She checked her chrono. "Recess is only for another forty-five minutes. Why don't you fly back to the Palace with me?"

A look of fleeting alarm glinted in Leia's eyes for just a moment. I'll go back kicking and screaming, her head warned, surprising Leia with its intensity.

"I'm not saying return to the Palace, Your Highness," Mothma emended shrewdly, reading Leia's expression correctly. "Just accompany me while I go back, and I'll have them return you here." Mothma indicated the sentry who was the speeder pilot.

"Alright," Leia agreed. She looked up at Han. "Save some for me of whatever Luke's brought."

"Sure." Han graced her forehead with a quick kiss. "Give him a Force signal if you need us to wrestle you outta there," he winked.

Mon Mothma noted the kiss with curiosity but said nothing as she and Leia boarded the speeder.

"I wanted to see how you were," Mon Mothma said, settling into her seat as the speeder lifted into the air. "I went to find you soon as the Senate finished the vote, but I learned Carlist had already told you and you had fled the Palace."

"I didn't exactly flee," Leia countered grudgingly. "I certainly wasn't going to stay there."

"No, it's understandable," Mothma agreed. "You've been here all this time?" she indicated the Falcon with a nod towards the window.

"Where else would I go?" Leia said.

"I don't know." Mothma's gaze took in Leia's short hair, the black leggings, and remembered the light kiss Solo had planted on her forehead. The Princess had always been elegant, dignified. She looked now only like a young woman. "I can't imagine how a freighter would be the kind of place you could get a handle on things, but you look like you have."

She was pleased to note how composed Leia seemed. When the Princess first arrived on Yavin, anyone who tried to offer condolences to her about her family, her home world, or her internment found they could not. It wasn't that the Princess lacked emotion; she simply refused to acknowledge her loss. It wasn't quite that she denied it had happened, but it was clear that it was something so painful that a wall needed to be erected in the interest of self-preservation. Leia kept refusing to face her pain, and so the wall became thicker and stronger, until the woman they interacted with became only icy resolve.

Mon Mothma had feared for Leia after the Senate vote. There was only so much a person could take before they broke, and this possibly was the last straw. And yet, here in front of her was a young woman, a princess, who looked as if she had neither denied nor refused this latest development. She looked tired and drained, but she looked like she had had a good cry, and it was the healthiest Mon Mothma ever recalled seeing her.

"It was the perfect place, actually," Leia admitted. "Now I know why Captain Solo works all the time on her. It helps him think."

"I can understand that," Mothma said with a nod. "Hard, physical work can actually be relaxing. I like to paint," she allowed. "Even just a wall. I was forever redoing the interior of my house."

Leia smiled. "He had me clean."

Mothma's brows shot up. "Clean? Seems rather un-princesslike."

"Well," Leia laughed lightly, "it is, I suppose. I grew up with servants. I never did my laundry, or made my bed. I didn't cook or scrub the 'fresher. But it's not hard, not hard to learn." Her eyes moved to the city skyline, and she pursed her lips, adding after a moment's thought, "It did help me think; sort through my feelings."

"I'm sure the vote came as quite a shock. I rather couldn't believe it myself when it was proposed."

Leia's eyes flicked up, sizing up her mentor. "I was angry," she admitted. "Bitterly so. It was hard not to take it personally."

"Politics is rarely personal," Mothma told her sagely.

"And I knew that, yet it still cut through me. I couldn't understand why. Who had what to gain by it."

Mothma remained silent. She didn't see any purpose in putting a face or name to the revocation. It had happened; there had been a vote; the Senate as a whole had done it.

"Now, after all that cleaning, I would say I'm not angry anymore. I'm ...," she searched for an appropriate word. "Disillusioned. Disenchanted."

Again, Mothma said nothing, allowing herself to absorb the weight of Leia's words.

"I don't want to wallow again in self pity," Leia smiled shyly, "but I kept going back to what separated me from the other Senators: Alderaan. The fact that they had a political body and I had none."

"Go on," Mothma encouraged.

Leia nodded. "At the time of the disbandment, we were all equals. I left with Alderaan, and I returned without it. I didn't see, I still don't see, how that absence prevented me from shaping the New Republic. It seemed to me Alderaan's absence would be all the more reason for me to take part." Leia paused. She kept her gaze to her lap, at the fingers that absently rubbed each other. "But Captain Solo said a few things."

Mothma raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Yes." Leia couldn't help but smile a little thinking of Han and his antics while she fumed and raged and cleaned and cried. He had been serious, sympathetic, ridiculous, and adorable. "He called the Senate a 'petty bunch of opportunists.' I know he was trying to cheer me up, and certainly you can't lump the entire Senate together with one description, but I think, also, he's right in a way. I feel there a few members of the Senate, at least one - the one who proposed Alderaan's revocation - who sped back quickly to get their hands on a piece of the galaxy."

Mothma's mouth opened to say something and Leia didn't let her. Whether she would protest, defend, agree; it made no difference. Leia didn't want to hear it. "He also said something rather inciteful, that made me furious, but as I worked and thought about it, I think he was right there, too."

Leia sighed, the hurt returning. She turned her face to the window. Coruscant was in night, and the city was ablaze with lights, almost as bright as the natural light of the sun.

"I've been gone a long time, Mon. I've done a lot of things, or maybe I haven't done much. It depends how you look at it." Leia thought of all the time on Dagobah, and her daily chore of hacking vines off the ship's support beams. "That's the main thing I learned. You can look at things at least two ways. I've learned about the Force. Mainly through Luke," she hastened to add, not wanting to go into the long, sordid tale of their shared parentage. "I've learned about the Dark side and the Light; I've seen good and evil. I know that evil is a label. A person you think is evil may think they are acting completely in order. They may think they are even doing good." Her thoughts strayed to Darth Vader, killing thousands on the orders of his master, thinking he was bringing about peace.

"Captain Solo used the term cancer," Leia said quietly, looking at her hands, "referring to Alderaan within the Senate. He said that Alderaan was a cancer, and that the Senate felt it had to be removed to keep the New Republic healthy." Leia brought her face back to Mon Mothma to see what kind of reaction she would receive.

Mothma's brows were still up. "That's putting it rather offensively, I would say," she said, sounding miffed.

"Tell me he's wrong," Leia prompted. She watched as numerous thoughts, senatorial arguments and defenses crossed Mon's face, but none passsed her lips. Leia was thankful Mon didn't utter any of them. It showed she respected Leia.

"So it's more than a petty opportunist, removing me to get a bigger piece of the galaxy," Leia confirmed.

"Leia, what kind of justice do you want for Alderaan?" Mon broke in.

Leia's mouth opened. Mon Mothma had called her 'Leia'. The two women's relationship went back to before Leia's election to the Senate. Mon had been her father's close colleague and a family friend. At times Mothma was a mentor and Leia called her Senator; other times she was a friend and Leia called her Mon, but after her father's death and years of war they referred to each other more and more as Senator and Princess; less as Mon and Leia.

She hadn't expected this question. She burned a little at it. To her, Alderaan was still and would always be an entity, something huge and alive that could not be segmented into a word, 'planet'; and it was something that one word, 'justice', would never be able to satisfy.

"What more can be done?" Mothma demanded. "I see it in your eyes. It will never be enough."

"Alderaan was murdered," Leia told Mon hotly.

"Yes, it was. You're absolutely right, Leia. But what more in the way of justice can be done? Like all murder cases, we can prosecute it. The Death Star was the weapon. It, too, was destroyed. No one on that battle station that manned it, or built it, or pushed a button to activate it, survives. They all died on the Death Star. There are loyal- former, but loyal- Imperialists who accuse the Alliance of murdering them!"

Leia's brows creased in anger but Mon plowed on. "The Emperor ordered it built. He is dead - murdered himself. The Death Star was built in the name of the Empire, and it, too, is dead."

"You're saying I'm a murderer," Leia muttered.

"No, I'm not. We're all murderers, really," Mothma's tone changed to one of philosophical expression. "It was war." She turned her face to the window. Under the soft lighting of the speeder her reflection was muted and softened against the glare of the city skyline. She looked gentler, younger, nothing like what the harsh reality of the past twenty years had done to her face.

"You have helped bring an end to the Empire. We are building a new galaxy. Fortunately, there will be no Death Star in it. But unfortunately, Alderaan is no longer in it. The New Republic has no Alderaan."

"So Han - Captain Solo- was right."

"I would think what he said was despicable to you."

"He was trying to rile me." Leia's tone told Mothma he was forgiven.

"I'm sure he succeeded." Mothma looked at Leia with a slight smile, remembering again the tender kiss. "The man is - well, he's too old to be immature, but he's an emotional seesaw. Quite the opposite of what we got from you."

Leia looked up at her in surprise. "I had no idea either of us were subjects for observation," she commented dryly.

Mothma smiled. "You don't know the half of it," she teased. "When you came to us, an orphan of the galaxy, you broke our hearts, Leia. But that's why you are the face of the Rebellion. Carlist, me, Dodonna - everyone - Skywalker, Solo - all we wanted was for you to be whole again. And he, Captain Solo," Mothma broke off with a huffed laugh. "I think he disowned the galaxy! No better face of Victory," she smiled.

"We tried to make you whole," she continued. "Fed you revenge and duty and leadership, but Solo had his own ideas. Made you fight and laugh and cry. Don't get me wrong; you were- are - always the consummate professional, very much in control. You were so guarded, Leia, so protected. We all wanted to protect you, to prevent you going through a loss again. During a war! As if that could be done." Mon shook her head. "We were fools," she said, more to herself.

Leia was quiet. In a way, it was nice to hear there had been so much concern for her, but it also rankled her sense of identity, that they all felt they knew her but had been so wrong.

Except Han. "I almost lost again. Vader shot Captain Solo. We were helpless, and he was dying, and... and I was distraught," Leia said carefully, yet hesitantly. She was admitting emotion to a woman who just told her she rarely revealed it.

But Mon was right. Leia had guarded herself from emotions. They hurt, and they weakened. Or so she thought. It was the memory that hurt, the memory of feeling that way; not the admission. The way Mon was looking at her, she was sharing the memory with Leia. And sharing gave strength, just by the fact that one person didn't have to carry it alone.

"I had no idea," Mon Mothma said.

Leia nodded, the sensations of the skiff ride as clear to her as the day they happened. "What helped me through was looking at him, while he was lying there, and thinking all the things you just said. That he made me fight, and laugh, and cry. That he made me feel alive. If he'd been one more to shelter me, there'd be no more me."

"Then we owe him a great deal," Mon said softly.

"He's right,though, isn't he?" Leia said, bringing the conversation back to the Senate and away from her. "I won't get my Seat back, will I?"

Mon's face was sad. "Alderaan is gone," she concluded softly. "Justice, as much as can be, is served. Survivors will receive restitution and resettlement packages. Thanks to you, I hope you see, and your work with the Committee for the Displaced."

"But why now?" Leia persisted. "Why? I think I'm the only one in the Senate who didn't want a piece of the galaxy for herself. And the others were threatened by me?" Her voice rose in disbelief. The noise of the speeder engine changed; it was shifting gears to approach landing on the Palace rooftop. "Even you."

"Princess!" Mothma said, shocked. "How can you think that? We have fought side by side for several years now. I know how important this victory was to you; how important your Seat was. How much you wanted to achieve."

Leia nodded. "Yes. For a time we shared a common goal. How did you vote?" she asked, her voice curiously flat.

"I find that out of line," Mon Mothma snapped. "What I just said about you goes for me as well. How hard we fought, our vision for a better-"

"This is about your legacy," Leia told her. "I don't mean you expect to get rich off this victory. I do feel, Mon, that deep down you really mean for this New Republic to take off, in the best way possible for all the beings within it. But, you have never intended to take a back seat while history unfolds. You have always seen yourself as a leader, if not The Leader, front and center.

"I don't have that pressure," Leia continued. "I can't have a legacy. I can't let history know how close I was to the takeover mission; how I participated. I can see it for what it is." Her eyes widened, hearing herself recite something else Han had said: you gotta see it for what it is. Remember Vader?

"Revoking my seat is a means of ending this war. You're right; I will never forgive what happened to Alderaan. I see revoking my seat is the rest of you playing soft with the defeated Imperial loyalists. I suppose it's as good as any way to end a war. I know of four beings who attacked the Emperor, so I suppose I shouldn't judge."

The speeder floated down and the engines were turned off.

Leia regarded her mentor. Mothma hadn't moved; her back was rigid in the seat and her face looked troubled. "You are worried about your legacy," Leia pointed out. "The way the coup went down, everyone will wonder until the end of time what you knew and how much you approved and what you manipulated. You've lost trust and credibility.

"You can't even ask why I cut my hair, for fear you'll know too much. But you don't have to worry," Leia assured her. "I won't be divulging anyone's secrets." And I've got a few. "That's why I asked how you voted."

Mothma shook her head quickly, as if an insect was buzzing around her. "I voted for you to keep your seat," she informed Leia.

"Then I owe you an apology," Leia said quietly, gratefully.

Mon's eyes shifted as the door opened and a sentry stood to help her disembark, but she made no move off her seat. "My concern is genuine, Princess. I think it's grossly unfair. As much as I don't like to admit this, I feel that you may be right, that there are some Senators who are quick to try and gain something out of this, whether it be financial or political." Mon Mothma sighed heavily. "Did your father ever tell you about the early days, when we met quietly and secretly in defiance of the Empire?"

Leia wasn't sure what answer Mon was looking for. The fall of the Old Republic was a complex issue. Historians pointed to the size of the government, both in terms of physical territory and sheer bureaucracy. Others cited the illegal treaties that benefited a small group of worlds but which fell in opposition to Republic policies. "I know my history," she hedged.

"Corruption at the end of the Old Republic was rampant," Mothma stated. "And it has continued. Unfortunately. You see it in the hierarchy the Emperor set up. From planetary governors to the Moffs, even military admirals and the like. I believe," Mothma leaned forward again, "that this sort of behavior has become our culture. And I fear that it is one change that cannot be made with laws and government. You saw it yourself; some of our Senators embrace the culture. I don't think they recognize it in themselves," Mothma was quick to add. "Just as you pointed out how subjective views of good and evil are earlier. I think they would be genuinely shocked if we said that about them. I suppose as genuinely shocked as I was, that you questioned my motives because of my legacy.

"It's complicated," Mothma concluded with a sigh. "It always is."

"What do you propose to do about it?" Leia's interest was piqued despite herself. "Start completely over with a new Senate? Run elections?"

"The one thing the Empire lacked, because there was no need, with a tyrant leader, was a system of checks and balances. An agency, a committee; something that served as a watchdog and protected the rights of the citizens from any political wrongdoing."

"Didn't the Old Republic have that?" Leia asked.

"To an extent. They relied on the Jedi Order to provide security, but even that became ineffective at the start of the Clone Wars."

"Hmm," was all Leia said. The Clone Wars was another symptom of decline in the Old Republic historians pointed to. The wars had spread the resources of the Old Republic far and wide, leaving wide gaps and all of it vulnerable to take overs, piece by piece.

"I will be introducing a bill to implement such a system," Mon Mothma told her. "And I think, Princess, that is exactly the place where Alderaan has a viable role."

"As a ghost?"

"As a memory. As a reminder. An accuser. Nothing existed to stop Alderaan's destruction. No one stood up and said 'the Death Star is wrong.' It's what you can do now."

"Me? You want me to be a part of this?"

"I'd like you to consider it."

Leia saw the need for it; saw why Mothma put it before her. But she found herself unenthusiastic. Not necessarily unwilling, and not apathetic to the idea, just not sure if that's where she saw herself. Her disillusionment with the Senate took away the idea they were a whole and just body. To her now the Senate was made up of self-centered individuals, the idea of a greater good lost.

It was about balance again. Luke had told her the new leaders could neither be all Light nor all Dark, but ones who embraced both. The New Republic needed something similar. Leaders who made change, and leaders who looked over the changes to be sure they served the right purpose.

"You'll need to think about it, I know," Mothma told her.

"I can't see how any of the Senators who voted for my removal will vote positively for this," Leia said with a rueful smile. "And I still have my work with the Committee for the Displaced," she added, lost in thought.

"True, there is that. That is also supremely important."

"I'm not sure, Mon. This whole thing is so big, so much more than me. All my life my vision has been outward; my people, my planet, my galaxy. Now, at a time when perspective couldn't be broader, building a new galaxy, I find that the most important things to me are the ones that I can hold. Hold close to me."

Mon was again correct. Alderaan was a memory. There would be an emptiness there, forever. But Leia had a new home, a place where she felt understood, comfortable, safe; a place where Alderaan's memory could reside as well. Her big, broad vision of the galaxy narrowed to include just Han, Luke, Chewie and the Falcon. Nothing else mattered. Instead of expanding outwards, her worldview shifted inward. It had become her galaxy, her people, her family.

"I can't say why, or how, without endangering the security of the Galactic Alliance, but Commander Skywalker, Captain Solo, and Chewbacca are immensely important to me," Leia told Mon. "Any consideration I take for my future will include them."

Mon arched a knowing brow. "And if these are three you need to hold close to you, you shouldn't be so formal about them. Come on, Leia," she coaxed. "I'm a gossipy old woman. I saw Captain Solo kiss your forehead."

Leia blushed, which she hoped Mon wouldn't see in the darkness of the speeder, but she also let a smile flash.

"How old are you, Leia?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three," Mon repeated, nodding to herself. "As old as this conflict." She cocked her head at Leia. "I was married by that age, you know."

"It's not uncommon at that age, is it?" Leia said noncommittally, wondering how the conversation became so personal all of a sudden.

"I'm not trying to embarrass you. Or marry you off. Heavens forbid." Mothma gave a mock shudder. "Can you imagine the Senate reaction if the Liberator asked for your hand? They'd send troops to your honeymoon destination to be sure you don't start your own government." She laughed, the whole idea ridiculous, and Leia joined in with her.

"The Empire was that old, too, Leia. For twenty-three years it stripped many beings of a chance to have a normal life, for a chance at happiness. Your father raised you for this moment, the death of the Empire, but I know it would sadden him deeply if you never gave yourself a chance at happiness."

Moved, Leia returned her gaze to her hands.

Mon Mothma was lost in her own reminiscing, of being that young and having her whole life to look forward to. "I can see why Solo and Skywalker are important to you," she conceded. As much as she told Leia to ignore formality, the two men would never be 'Han' or 'Luke' to her. "You have shared many experiences together."

She sighed. She hadn't been on Yavin but she knew well enough about the battle that it wouldn't have been possible without either of the three's actions, separately, and together. "I won't tell you to be careful, or give you motherly advice. You're twenty-three. You are young, but certainly old enough to fight your own battles. Did the medic ever get in to see Captain Solo?"

Leia blinked, the abrupt change of subject taking her by surprise. "Oh, yes." She recalled Han throwing them out of the room. "He was treated."

"Good. How is he doing, bearing the brunt of the coup?"

Leia was glad to be able to offer a professional assessment. "He understands his role. He's fine with it. The notoriety, the celebrity - that bothers him a bit."

"Yes, I saw on the holos on the way over that he shoved a holo photographer. Since I saw him kiss you - and please, Leia, stop blushing. You're twenty-three, remember! - I suspect that you may have more influence over him than anyone else here. Tell him to be careful. Although," Mon waved a hand. "maybe it doesn't matter. His mixture of good deeds and bad has the press going in every direction where it concerns him, and beings will just have to make up their minds about him on their own. I thought he handled the Inquisition well."

Mention of the hearing reminded Leia her brother had also been on the speaker's docket. "How did Luke do before the Senate?" she asked.

Mothma smiled. "He did well. He gave us quite an education. Spoke like a Master, what I remember of Master Yoda when I was a young Senator."

"You mean in riddles and vague statements?" Leia joked.

"A bit of that, yes," Mon laughed. "He sought to reintroduce us to the Force, to calm us. He talked, as you did, of balance, Light and Dark. It was interesting. He's a long way from putting anything concrete on a flimsi in regards to establishing an academy, but I have no doubt he'll receive funding once he does."

Mon Mothma stood. "You'll take the Princess back to the docking bay," she instructed the sentry.

"Yes, Senator," the sentry saluted.

She clasped Leia's hands to her own. "You're right, you know. I can't even ask about your hair. I do know, from our association, that you would never do something that drastic on a whim. So I will content myself with granting you maturity." She smiled, then whispered, "but how I would love to know the story behind it!"

Mon Mothma straightened, letting go of Leia's hands. "I'm so proud of you, Your Highness," she said formally. "Of this moment, of having the honor of riding with you in a speeder. Life has given you times of terrific hardship, but Life has rewarded you with great wisdom. More than most of us can hope for at the end of a long life. I do hope I will have the pleasure of continuing to work with you."

With that, she turned and disembarked. Leia heard the pilot re-enter the speeder and the engines began to hum once more. The lights of the Palace fell away. She sought her reflection in the window as she ruminated over the discussion. A word popped into her head. Possibility.

The word and all its meanings, all its potential, had left her the moment she was taken prisoner on board the Death Star. There is nothing to think about when one's execution is imminent. There are no plans to make, no ideas on which to speculate. Even before one arrives in front of the firing squad, something is killed within one. Possibility.

Instead of being executed, she instead had assisted in obliterating the possibilities of all the lives aboard the Death Star, but she had never been sorry. And her heart beat, and she worked and she planned, but possibility never returned. Luke cared and Han pushed but the only possibility she confronted was when she would die and how.

It was back now, like the rare and tiny migrating moth she would stay up late on summer nights for, just to be able to catch a glimpse of it. Elusive and thrilling, and once one was lucky enough to spot it, one embraced the sight to one's very soul. Possibility had returned to Leia Organa. Death was no longer imminent;she could build a family with a brother and a lover. She could be a Committee member, working for the displaced; she could be a citizen's advocate, pointing her finger at the government like a Fury, or - there it was: Citizen's Square, the tiny monitor. Leia grinned as she saw her still photo. Princess Leia for President.

Hell, she thought. Anything's possible.