Chapter 21
They awoke suddenly and all too soon, startled by the sound of someone entering the room. Leia blinked. For a second she forgot where she was; then it all came flooding back in hideous detail. Her entire body ached. Han moaned.
"Get up," growled a low, sinister voice.
Summoning what little strength she had, Leia rose, pausing to assist Han as he got up, too.
It was the bounty hunter, Boba Fett, and several stormtroopers. "You're coming with us," he said, and a few of the troopers moved to put cuffs on Han. Leia felt a surge of panic. Were they going to take him away now?
But no, the troopers were readying all of them.
"Oh dear," exclaimed Threepio. Currently, he was just a head, a torso, and an arm, but Leia was grateful, despite everything, to have him back. Chewie quickly dug a net out of a pouch on his bandolier and gathered up the droid and all its various parts, stringing them to his back. "Really, this is rather uncomfortable," Threepio complained.
«Deal with it,» muttered Chewie. Impatient, the troopers prodded them towards the door.
They followed the bounty hunter deeper into the bowels of the city; the corridors growing more industrial as they went. They hadn't been walking long, but Leia's body was dragging; her movements slow and clumsy, her mind groggy. The ache hadn't gone away. She could only imagine how Han, walking beside her, felt.
Threepio, seemingly unaware of the state of things, prattled on about his discomfort. She barely registered it. She was focusing on Han, at least as much as she could while trying not to stumble. She needed to see him; needed to hear him breathing next to her. Finally, a door ahead of them opened, and they went through.
Leia would have stopped, frozen in her tracks, if Chewie and the troopers hadn't been so close behind.
It was the place from her dream.
The room was large, round and dark, with a sunken central ring surrounded by the walkway they were on now. Bluish light lurked around the perimeter; it ceded to orange in the center, glowing out of the grated floor like tongues of fire. Steam billowed up through the grates and puffed down erratically from the ceiling, which bristled with strange machinery. In the middle of the ring, there was a strange, circular hole. Around it stood Lando and his aide, another squad of stormtroopers, and a number of busy Ugnaughts.
Leia blinked, wondering if she were still asleep.
But no. There was a faint yet distinct metallic scent on the air—she could almost taste it—and a loud rumble and whine emanating from the machinery. Her dreams had omitted such details. Fear, raw and wild, nearly overpowered her.
Fett led them down a short stair to the central ring; at the bottom, he directed them to the right, and they halted behind Lando. Darth Vader descended from the opposite stair, his gait slow and triumphant. She refused to look directly at him, but her fear grew sharper as the monster from her nightmares took shape once more, his presence looming like a shadow over the room.
"What's going on, buddy?" Han spat out the last word with contempt.
"You're being put into carbon freeze," Lando replied, not looking at him.
"What if he doesn't survive?" Fett hissed at Vader from across the room. "He's worth a lot to me."
Leia turned to Han in horror and found he was already looking at her, his eyes solemn and sad.
No, she thought, panic sweeping through her. This couldn't be happening. She wasn't ready to lose him yet.
She couldn't lose him yet.
Certainly not like this.
Han watched her, resignation showing on his face. Somehow, his lips widened slightly into the hint of a smile, compassionate and apologetic, that she knew was hers alone.
"Put him in!" Vader ordered, and the moment shattered. All of a sudden, Chewie was yelling; tossing stormtroopers everywhere. Threepio screamed in fright. For a moment Leia felt a surge of wild hope—it wasn't over, they could still fight—but then she saw the other troopers surrounding them, blasters raised, and Vader, always Vader, standing stone-like across the ring, entirely undismayed.
No. This wasn't going to work. They would die fighting the inevitable, and then there would be no one to warn Luke, and no one to rescue Han if by chance he survived. They had to live, somehow.
"Stop! Chewie, stop!" That was Han's voice, rising through Threepio's frantic pleas. He went to stand right in front of him, catching the Wookiee's gaze as more stormtroopers approached with another set of handcuffs. "Hey! Listen to me! Chewie, this won't help me! Save your strength; there'll be another time."
Suddenly, Leia felt a cold chill. Almost of their own accord, her eyes were wrenched to the other side of the ring. Vader was staring at her. She felt open, laid bare, seen in a way she didn't understand. He was a gravity well, a black hole pulling her in towards destruction. What would he do with her after this? She backed away slowly towards Han and Chewie.
"The princess," Han was saying. "You have to take care of her." Yes, she needed Chewie now, and Chewie probably needed her just as much. She was willing to admit that, although she once would have bristled at the idea of needing anyone. Sure, she was capable, and she could take care of herself. But people, friendships, love—that was something capability couldn't replace, no matter how high she built her walls.
It wasn't just that, though. Shaking herself out of her terror, Leia guessed what Han was getting at. She drew close to Chewie, reaching out to stroke his fur. The Wookiee had sworn a life debt to Han; he would never betray that, except to protect someone else who he felt came under it. With a slight shock, she realized that she was now one of the rare few.
"You hear me? Huh?" Han prodded.
Chewie let out a desolate yes.
Han turned to face Leia. Suddenly, his lips were on hers, and she reached out towards him desperately, kissing him with everything she had left. For a moment they slowed down time; defying their enemies, denying the end.
And then he was torn away from her, the taste of his lips still on her tongue. He stood on a platform that had risen in the central cavity, and his eyes didn't leave her.
Vader was going to take him from her, like he had taken everything else, and as in her nightmares, she was powerless. They were weak and surrounded; there was no way out.
There was nothing she could do, nothing that wouldn't make it worse.
But there was something she could say. The words formed deliberately, without hesitation; echoing throughout her entire being, a shout flung to the farthest stars. She no longer cared about anyone else knowing. She no longer cared if it caused her pain. She no longer cared about regrets, because she was finally, absolutely certain she would regret it a lot more if he never heard the truth.
"I love you," she told him.
Han looked at her gravely, his love for her written plainly on his face. There was no hint of surprise. "I know," he said.
I know.
The warmth of his reassurance and the freedom of the truth flooded her heart. It mingled with the agony of loss, both comforting and painful. They loved each other, and now, they would lose each other.
Past conversations flickered through her mind.
"It's not your fault."
"I know if it ever came to that, you'd do somethin' to save me if you could."
"I would."
"I know."
The Ugnaughts unbound his hands. The platform began to lower, slowly, inevitably. Their eyes locked onto each other, filling with tears, and they never let go until the moment the machine hissed, Han's head was thrown back, and steam billowed up around him.
She turned away, burying her head in Chewie's fur. The Wookiee let out an anguished wail.
"What's going on?" Threepio demanded. "Turn around! Chewbacca, I can't see!"
The machine whined loudly, and she looked to see a claw-like structure descending from the ceiling. She forced herself to watch as it latched onto what was below and slowly began its ascent, bringing with it a large, human-sized block. Her throat was constricting, her mind spitting denials. She grabbed onto Chewie's arm and clung to it, and he pulled her close.
The Ugnaughts examined the block, and then—casually, as if it were of no consequence—they pushed it over. It hit the floor with a clang. Leia flinched. Han's features could still be seen; his hands were raised as if to protect himself, and his face was caught in frozen agony.
She trembled. She couldn't weep now. Not in front of Vader.
Lando crouched beside the carbonite block—beside Han.
"Oh, they've encased him in carbonite," Threepio remarked, having finally gotten a good glimpse. "He should be quite well-protected; if he survived the freezing process, that is."
Lando finished examining the data panel in the encasing. Then he rose up on his arms to look at his old friend with his own eyes. Leia waited, hardly daring to breathe.
"Well, Calrissian, did he survive?" Vader inquired.
"Yes, he's alive," Lando responded, not moving. "And in perfect hibernation."
Relief swept through Leia, and Chewie gave her shoulder a squeeze. There was still hope, however small.
"He's all yours, bounty hunter." Vader turned to the Ugnaughts. "Reset the chamber for Skywalker," he commanded.
An officer approached. "Skywalker has just landed, milord."
Leia caught Chewie's eyes worriedly.
"Good," Vader responded. "See to it that he finds his way in here."
Her eyes traveled back to Han's still, petrified form. She stared at it, trying to commit every feature to memory. She never wanted to forget. Not him, and not what they'd done. Fury filled her; fury that they would do this to him, fury that he had been separated from her, fury at the sheer, incomprehensible horror of it all.
Then grief came rushing in, and the fury was overwhelmed.
Lando finally finished his reverie. Rising, he marched over to Leia and grabbed her arm. Without even a sideways glance, she pushed him away.
"Calrissian," she heard Vader say, "take the princess and the Wookiee to my ship."
"You said they'd be left in the city under my supervision!" Lando argued.
"I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any farther."
Vader swept out of the room. Leia didn't watch him go. Her eyes were still frozen on the one she loved.
For the first time, she allowed a few silent tears to fall.