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Review thank you's- dianafox00: Thank you for reading and leaving some thoughts! I'm super happy you enjoyed the banter. JasmineRey: Thank you so much! I really appreciate your feedback and insight into how the chapter comes across. When I'm writing, it's hard to be sure if it reads how I hope it does. Thanks for liking the dialogue! I absolutely love the trio dynamic! And right? Rey in Leia's Endor poncho on Ajan Kloss is one of my new headcanons. lol. Guest: Yay! Literally same about wanting Rey Solo and dying to delve deeper into Rey and Leia's connection. I hope you continue to read, enjoy, and review!
Chapter 9: Better Than Jakku
"Breha—the lost princess, of a lost planet. Pleased to meet you." Queen Irasale addressed Rey dreamily, with only a tinge of sadness. The idea of a secret hidden princess was one she heavily romanticized. The royal family, a select group of nobles, the ambassador, their servants, and several droids all lined the throne-room; all fixed on the two Organas with immense curiosity. Leia was unfazed, used to throne rooms and politically driven appearances. Rey, however, had never had so many people acknowledge her existence, much less be enthralled with it. It was like being in a room full of Finns but somehow not as comforting. The Queen elegantly stretched her hand towards Rey, and after looking to her 'mother' for reassurance, she placed her hand in the Queen's with a polite bow of her head, "You too." She was glad Leia made her scrub and soak her fingernails earlier.
The Queen then moved to the older woman, "What an honor to bestow upon us, Princess Leia. I regret that we never had the opportunity to meet your son and Captain Solo."
"So do I," Leia lilted. Rey assumed both Solos had visited this planet before. At least once, given that it was the only world left with traceable roots to Alderaan and fragments of Leia's culture. Naturally, the question sat on the tip of Rey's tongue, but she'd save it for later.
"Tell me," Irasale clasped her hands under her chin as if ready to hear a fairytale, "Were you able to reunite with your father before he passed, Breha?"
The cover hadn't specified whether she reunited with Han or not. So without having to line her answer up to any existing story, she pulled from truth. "I was."
The smuggler appeared at her side and held out a blaster, nonchalant. So nonchalant that he didn't bother looking. "You might need this."
Rey gave it a critical glance. The Scavenger was used to everyone underestimating her skill for self-defense. She'd always preferred it that way because they wouldn't expect the butt of her staff to their jaw. But she didn't want Han Solo, literal legend of her childhood, to think she was incapable of putting up a fight. "I think I can handle myself," she replied evenly, with a smirk.
"I know you do," said Han, sincerely. His brows furrowed at her, a concern clearly in his eyes, "That's why I'm giving it to you. Take it." He pushed the blaster into her grasp and then widened his stance and settled his hands on his hips. Looking—or trying to look— uninvested. Cool as a quacta.
Eagerly and wanting to impress, Rey pointed the weapon and pretended to shoot, imagining a trooper across the lake. "You know how to use one of those?" he asked. Clearly apprehensive about her lack of blaster safety, as well as her atrocious, straight-armed, squinty eyed, technique.
Rey quipped quickly, cleverly, "Yeah. You pull the trigger." Cool as a quacta, too—she thought.
"A little bit more to it than that," he took her wrist and lowered it. Slightly appalled, but kind. Gentle. He sighed, "You got a lot to learn," as if he might be the one who had a lot to teach. Rey, a bit humbled, looked down at the blaster. It was the nicest thing she had owned to date, maybe the nicest thing she'd ever own. Then it finally sunk in. Her very first gift was from Han Solo. Han Solo. He had no reason to give this to her. He gained no benefit from it. Where she'd come from, people were stingy and self-serving, so the generosity and thoughtfulness of his gesture touched her profoundly. Why he would, she didn't know, but it felt like he cared. Even despite him looking everywhere but at her to act as if he didn't.
He took a breath, then awkwardly forced a conversational tone. It was like he was shoving a square peg in a round hole, but she clung to the effort. "You got a name?"
"Rey."
"Rey," he repeated, with a slight upturn at the corner of his mouth. He cared.
Wistful, the girl smiled, "He was so kind. I didn't get to spend very long with him, but I loved every minute of it."
Leia knew she meant it. That it was coming from Rey more than it was coming from the persona. They talked about Han together, sometimes. Not as often as they could've or maybe would've liked to, but every now and then, he would come up. His stubbornness, his golden dice, the scruff on his chin that he refused to grow or shave off, the way he pointed his finger when he argued. It was clear from the devastation on the Scavenger's face when she returned from Starkiller Base, and it was clear in the few conversations about him since—Rey adored Han. She looked up to him. She felt a unique kinship with him. Felt like he would've been the father figure she'd never had. And for Leia to know the other side, to know that her husband was just as fond of the girl, was what really stirred her emotions.
Han's hip was propped against Leia's worktable as she organized which support squadrons to send to Starkiller. "Her name's Rey. You'd like her. Chewie does." She nodded along as he talked, a little preoccupied, swiping this way and that. He continued, "You should keep her."
Leia looked at him like he was an idiot. A loveable idiot…but an idiot just the same, "Like a pet?"
"I mean enlist her—for your—for the Resistance." His hand waved dismissively, "I don't know. Whatever the word is for it."
Leia chuckled at him. "I'll always welcome a new recruit. Especially, if she's that good of a pilot."
"The kid is special, Leia." It was a sentiment she would grow to feel too, but she'd had no idea at the time. The genuineness in his voice made her pause and look at him. For some reason, he was never able to hide behind a cool exterior or sarcasm with Leia. It may have pissed her off, but she still saw right through him to what he really felt. She just knew. And with her, he never really wanted to hide, it's just that the instinct in him was so strong. A protective measure, he guessed, after the heartbreak of Qi'ra and betrayal of Beckett. During the blissful years of their marriage, he'd learned to be more honest with her. Learned that he could express things to her that he was afraid would come across too vulnerable to anyone else, and she would understand. That he could trust her with the open hearted, optimistic, Han he'd been when he first escaped home. And even after years of separation, after arguments, and tragedy, and estrangement, and avoiding coming home, Leia still just understood. His gaze filled with empathy and she could see, in his deep hazel eyes, that this girl Rey reminded him of a young boy scraping to survive in the underbelly of Corellia. And since their own child refused their help, Han wanted to help this one. Earnestly. This kid meant something to him. "She deserves better than Jakku. You can't let her go back."
Han would be knocked off his feet if he knew how things had turned out. That Rey was unbelievably strong in the Force and that Leia had stepped up as Master to train her. He'd be so happy—so grateful— to know that Rey had stayed far away from Jakku, in fact, had become part of the Resistance like he hoped. That she was finding the belonging she so desired and so deserved. He'd be satisfied that she was the one taking care of the Falcon and keeping Chewie company. And too, the man would be incredibly proud of how far the Scavenger girl had come—as a pilot, a mechanic, a fighter, a Jedi, and a person coming in to her own.
When Han was murdered, Leia felt his pain ring out through the Galaxy in more ways than one. The physical pain ripped through him like a forest fire, but the emotional pain she sensed in his final seconds was what burned brightest. His pain of seeing Ben and his beautiful heart clearly manipulated and twisted to the point that he believed he was never loved—when his every breath since the day he was born was so precious to Han and Leia. The pain of betrayal, of looking in Ben's eyes and not recognizing any part of him there. The pain of wasted time. Of what more he could've done, or said, to save Ben from his path. And the last thing that floated through Han's mind was the pain of failure. Failing Leia.
She thought Han would be consoled with the knowledge that, while he hadn't brought their son back home to her, he'd found and sent Rey. A girl who brought renewed purpose, comfort, and joy to her. A sort of daughter, or at least, starting to feel like one. And Leia was just as thankful to him for it. Queen Irasale noticed when Leia's eyes became teary and capitalized on the drama of it, "Oh, how tragically touching..." her hand covered her heart, "My deepest, truest, condolences to you both."
As honored guests, the Organas were given the entire east wing of the palace, half of the wing each, as their quarters of stay. It was more room than two people and a droid could've ever needed, but the concept of space was linked to respect for the Delayans. The more space one was given when shown hospitality, the higher display of respect. Two grand suites were chosen by Irasale and prepared for their actual use. Leia's was at the farthest side of her half. It was the one she and her parents had always been granted throughout her childhood, thus Irasale thought Leia would appreciate it. Breha's was at the nearest side of her half, chosen for its spectacular views and because its balcony would be parallel to her mother's, so they could see each other across the east courtyard.
Several hover carriers roamed the palace to transport guests and royal members over large distances. Princess Leia and Breha were given one for exclusive use, along with a fob transmitter to hail it from wherever they were in the palace. Rey thought she might need one just to get around her suite... It was several minutes after Artoo beeped on the com, that Rey emerged and hopped into the hover next to Leia. She breathed an apology for taking so long and imitated Leia's posture—straight back, hands folded in her lap, feet crossed at the ankles. Her 'mother' didn't seem to mind having to wait. She pressed an area on the hover's data-map and they were off, with Artoo rolling merrily behind.
"What do you think?" asked Leia, referring to their accommodations, and biting back a knowing smirk.
Rey's eyes were wide, "The fresher alone is bigger than the entire Falcon. And there's so many rooms. I nearly got lost on the way out."
Leia laughed. If there had been a bet placed on Rey's reaction, Leia would've won hands down. "I know what you mean. The Delayans really love their space."
Rey then praised, "Everything in it is so beautifully crafted, though. And the view is amazing. I can see the entire length of the river out every window."
Rey loved water, understandably, because of a lifetime on a planet with little to none of it. She was the only member of the Resistance who, instead of complaining about the endless rain on Varyka, could sit for hours and watch it appreciatively. She found delight in catching drops in her hands and sticking her feet out to get wet. Knowing this, Leia mentioned, "Maybe they'll take us out on it."
"On the water?" the girl repeated excitedly, and Leia nodded, "I'll mention it to Ira."
Rey grinned back at Artoo and he beeped with cheer for her. BB8 would always be the most special droid to her, but through Leia, she was also developing sweet relationships with Artoo and Threepio. They were pretty much part of the Skywalker family themselves, so she appreciated getting to know them too.
The Princess then dove into the business at hand. "Now, Acclellan said we could have our pick of the transports. I'm going to defer to you on that."
"Me?" asked Rey. They passed under two towering archways that connected to the central area of the palace. A rosy golden light streamed in from the painted windows and openings in the ceiling. The quiet hum and chirping of birds in the east wing gave way to the trickling ponds (inlaid in the floor of the main hall) and palace dwellers' conversation. As they rode through, people hurried aside to free their path and bowed their heads until no longer in view. Rey didn't think she'd ever get used to that.
Leia admired the beauty of the palace too but naturally wasn't as distracted by it as Rey. She detailed, "I'll point out ones that have what we need in terms of troop capacity. Then I want your opinion on their condition. Inspect them, then tell me if you approve or not from a pilot and mechanic standpoint."
Rey tore her eyes from the glass columns and the large pink fish swimming about in them, "Yes, Mast—Mother. I can do that."
"They'll have disabled any weapons systems but—"
"I'll the find the ones easiest to get back online," the girl finished the thought.
Further, Leia instructed, "And keep a mental list of what would be needed for repairs. I'll have Nien and Tico get everything prepped. We'll send a list tonight."
At last, they arrived at the mouth of the hangar, whose marble doors towered meters high. Rey instinctively moved to hop out of the hover but stopped when Leia discreetly held her hand up—they were to wait to be helped out by Ambassador Acclellan's assistants. Rey thought it was unnecessary, since the step down was so small, that someone four rotations old could comfortably descend. But apparently, it was another one of the Delayan's arbitrary customs. She was also surprised that Leia wasn't outwardly peeved by the rule like she would've been if they were back at the Base.
"I thought we would tour the Tantive first, your Highness," Acclellan declared. He strode grandly towards them from his hover as Leia and Rey were 'helped' down. "I assure you, she is in pristine condition."
The bolts on the hangar doors made a loud hiss and opened to reveal the Tantive IV. It was much, much, larger than Rey expected it to be, and much cleaner than one would've thought of a ship that old. The red accent paint was faded and worn off in a few spots, minor scratches were present, and the turrets had been removed, but there was no trace of carbon scoring or any major dents. When Rey looked to Leia to gauge her reaction, the Princess was smiling up at it. "It's so wonderful to see it again." It made Rey really happy.
As the group moved forward into the hangar, Rey split off and began walking the length of the corvette. To survey the condition as she was asked, yes, but also to simply admire it. They didn't get a lot of ships this big come into the ports of market on Jakku. And Artoo's holos didn't do the design justice. In person, it was so much grander. So luxurious and sleek. So Organa. As she studied the vessel, she halfway listened to Leia and the Ambassador somewhere behind her.
"When the Cortessans purchased it, they did extensive restoration and cleaning, as you can see here. There's hardly any scoring left."
"It looks like some dents were taken out of the bulkhead too."
"Yes. Most traces of battle damage were removed."
"That's interesting. I'm not complaining but usually, museums preserve things as they are."
"Well, to my understanding, this was going to be part of their personal collection."
The triangular design that jutted off and created a lip between the cannons and the troop hold was genius for the aerodynamics. Any dives would be slow because of the mass, but those wings would make the maneuver cleaner and keep the troop holds from taking on heat in atmo. Most 'cruisers' that came through Jakku sacrificed a safer hold for a more luxurious one. Rey wondered if it was standard for an Alderaanian craft or if the Organas had specifically outfitted this way for Rebel Alliance purposes.
"We have full records of everything the family had done. I can transfer the data to your astromech if you'd like."
"Please. That would be helpful."
"I can also get spec files on any of the other ships you're interested in. Just let me know as we go, and I will make a note."
The stacked engine thrusters were Rey's favorite part of the ship, from a pilot's standpoint. At full power, they could reach a speed of 950 kph in atmosphere and allowed for optimal control of navigation in hyperspace lanes. Plus, they looked really awesome.
"Would you like to examine the inside?" the Ambassador offered, having already activated the boarding ramp.
"Breha!" It took a second for Rey to register—she was still getting used to being called that—but she turned towards the voice. "We're going in."
After spending so much time in the dingy, yellowed, corridors of the Falcon—love it as she may—the Tantive's glossy, white, interior was a pleasant shock. No crates to trip over. Instead of pipes snaking in and out of the walls, tubes laying in the walkways, and wires poking out of holes, the Tantive had neat and organized rows of panel boxes. Rey was amazed at how clean a ship could be. The group headed straight for the cockpit but Artoo hung back with Rey, trailing slowly behind while she took everything in. Leia's flagship. A ship that had been in her family for decades. It had probably gone through the Clone Wars, and the Galactic War, and who knows what else. A series of blaster bolts the walls in the corridor. Rey ran her hand along them. On closer look, someone had been at the scorch marks with a scrub pad. They probably used a substeel one, because all it did was create scratches instead of removing the burn. There were some tricks Rey knew from the scrub station at Niima Outpost—maybe she could get those out. Artoo chirped at the opening to the cockpit to remind Rey that they were waiting, so she tucked the idea away and joined the group.
Leia was standing between the pilot seats, hands on both headrests, looking out as if there was something but hangar to see, and Acclellan was flicking on the overhead lights, "You're welcome to power her up and make sure everything is in order."
Wordlessly, Rey and Leia recalled their earlier conversation, and the older woman moved so the younger could take a seat in the pilot's chair. It had the same setup as the few cruisers Unkar 'acquired' for his consignment yard. He'd never let Rey fly one, of course—she was put to work cleaning or rewiring some of the consoles because his fingers were too stubby—but it gave her the opportunity to study the control panels on different types of ships when he wasn't paying attention (which was most of the time). The closest vehicle to the Tantive that she'd worked on, was a ZD-8000 light-cruiser. As she scanned the flight deck, she noticed the master and ignition switches were located on the far left of the overhead panel—same as the other ship. Knowing that, she checked next to the throttle lever and sure enough, the primer and fuel pump toggles were where she'd remembered. She'd start there.
From Leia and Acclellan's perspective, the way Rey jumped into maintenance checks with no apparent hesitation looked like Rey had flown this ship dozens of times. "Do you know which class hyperdrive it has?" asked the girl, her hands flying over various knobs and buttons.
The Ambassador's face had barely scrunched up in thought, searching his memory for the number he'd just seen on his datapad, when Leia beat him to the reply, "Class 2."
Rey acknowledged and keyed up the motivator to judge the recent stats. While she waited for that to load, she shifted to the co-pilot's side to check the condition of the shield tech. "The shields are only equipping to 80 percent, but I don't see where the power is diverting to. Was a manual procedure programmed into the system?"
"I believe—" the Ambassador started but Leia cut him off again, "The last 20 percent equips when the weapons system is activated." Leia might not have known how to rewire an ignition line, but she knew how to run a bridge. She'd grown up running this one.
Rey nodded, "That makes sense. They've been taken completely offline, so the initiation is restrained." After a few more adjustments of knobs, she requested to no one in particular, "Could you boot them up for me? Second toggle beneath the coolant gauge."
Acclellan complied long enough to find the mechanism before realizing what was being done. "Uh, actually…your Highness, forgive me but…I don't—" Leia moved past him and started booting up the system so quickly that it practically gave him whiplash. "I don't think that's exactly legal. We're a pacifist—"
Making sure to (diplomatically) roll her eyes when he wasn't looking, Leia chided, "What's going to happen? You removed all the cannons…"
"I—well—" he stuttered, frantically pulling up the records on his datapad to make sure.
"Thank you for understanding." An innocent and amiable tone if one hadn't seen her smirk. Rey had, and held back the chuckle. This was the Leia she expected when the Delayans insisted on holding their hands to step down four inches. In an instant, the screen that displayed shield strength lit up and filled the bar on the graph. "Perfect. Shields are fully operational." She swiveled the seat to check another screen and confirmed, "If we had weapons, they'd be in order too." When Rey was done with that portion of her inspection, Leia deactivated the system again, just to keep Acclellan from having a heart attack—he looked like he was sweating.
Queen Irasale Gavinia was a different beast—a lothcat, in personality, compared to the Organas' krayt dragon. She was melodramatic but kind, a bit naive, insistent about her requests but soft-spoken when making them, and patient to a numbing fault. The Organas were also kind, no doubt, but they were passionate. Their sentiments were driven by a purpose, a goal— not exaggerated or sensationalized because they found such things fascinating. They were straightforward about what they needed and proactive in getting it. They would just assume do something themselves than wait for someone to do it for them—clearly. It was an incredibly overwhelming change of pace for him.
"Artoo," Rey addressed as she jumped back into the pilot's seat in a manner completely unfitting for her supposed station, "could you plug into the navi-computer and run a diagnostic, please?"
Over the droid's chirps, the Ambassador took a deep breath, plastered on a smile that he hoped didn't look nervous, and exclaimed, "The Princess really knows her ships, doesn't she?"
Leia lifted a brow, "Like father, like daughter." She joked, "Did you get anything from me?"
If Acclellan noticed the two's shared glance of amusement, he didn't question it. Simply muttered under his breath that the girl had definitely inherited Leia's trait of fieriness. On that note and following what felt like a whirlwind to poor Acclellan, Breha declared that the ship's processors were in pristine working condition and, to his relief, started shutting the vessel down. He cleared his throat and offered to move on, "Any other section of the ship that you'd like to examine?"
"Yes, actually. Are the bacta tanks still installed?"
Rey could appreciate the space and it's presumed past with her task complete. As she powered down the ship, she took her time, doing it thoughtfully. How many Organas had stood in this cockpit? How many dignitaries or rebels had flown it? How many battles had it helped win? She'd grown up in a leftover war machine of the Empire, so it was something so remarkable to her to see an instrument of the other side. A flagship of the Rebellion, the roots of the Resistance. Her Resistance. It felt like discovering heritage. Just not in the way the Delayan's were led to believe. Not by bloodline, but connection and belonging, just the same. Leia and the Ambassador had wondered out, assured that Artoo would help the young woman find them. She lingered a moment more after switching the lights off. "There's so much history here, Artoo. It's beautiful to be a part of."
The droid beeped and booped.
"What?" Rey's jaw dropped.
He excitedly beeped some more.
Rey skid out into the corridor. She evidently forgot her posture and protocol but at least remembered to call Leia, "Mother!" Way down the hallway, Leia turned and Acclellan tripped. Rey was grinning in amazement, her eyes bright and alive, "You didn't tell me you wore this, in that cockpit, when you got the plans for the Death Star."
Leia shrugged, "I guess I didn't think about it. I travelled in that a lot." She fixed Rey with a look of endearment, "Come on, we're going to walk through the medbay."
Since they had arrived so late in the afternoon and seemed worn out from the journey, the Queen insisted the Organas spend their first night getting settled and resting. The grand Welcome Feast was considerately moved to the next evening and supper was sent to their suites. Instead of rest, however, Leia had her dinner sent to Rey's quarters and they ate while making decisions about the ships. The main room of Rey's suite—like all the others in the wing—had a grand, floor-to-ceiling, fireplace which had already been stoked for her upon return from the hangar. In front of it sat a low, oval, table carved out of cerulean marble, and that's where Rey sat. It was strewn with spec files, Rey's borrowed datapad, and empty dishes.
"CK439Y—one of the A wings— it needs it's sub-alternator fixed," the girl spoke loudly so Leia could hear across the vast room. "That'll be an easy job." So far, very few of the ships that they were obtaining needed repairs. And even then, what was needed wasn't extensive. Not like the scrap they were used to salvaging and cobbling together from junkyard planets across the outer rim.
Leia stood at the buffet table they'd been brought. Three tiered, each tier rotating in alternating directions, made of gold rods. It was decked with some of Delaya's traditional cuisine, what they considered comfort foods. When it'd first been wheeled in, Rey assumed they were to fill a plate with what they wanted and then it would be wheeled to the next room, on and on throughout the palace—kind of like a fancier, mobile, version of the mess station back at the base. Her mind was blown when Leia clarified that it was all for them. And not for their whole stay either. 'This is like 500,000 portions…' Rey had breathed in sheer amazement. Leia was going to get a kick out of Rey being spoiled these next few days. Maybe a nice enough time would fade some memories of hunger, loneliness, and blistering heat.
"So, it'll need...?" Leia called back.
"A new PVF valve and a U-bolt," Rey said, engrossed in the holo-diagram Artoo was projecting of the ship. "The rest of the ships are in good condition where the hyperdrive is concerned."
"Good, that's what I like to hear." The older woman returned, "Try this," placed a bowl on the table for Rey, and dropped onto the lounger with a bowl of her own.
Immediately sniffing and stabbing with her fork, Rey asked, "What is it?"
"Udoon and fishballs. It was my favorite here as a kid." A minute of watching Rey stab at the noodles later, Leia suggested she twirl them around her fork. That proved to be much easier. Rey hummed in appreciation at the mix of flavors. It was a little salty—like the way the ocean around Ahch-To smelled, a little smoky, and a tad sweet. Another mouthful and then she read her next set of notes on the datapad. "I saw these SS3000's stored in the left quadrant too. They would need their engine thrusters replaced but I thought we could switch them with the two interceptors that needed repairs." She took a bite off a fish ball, "Unless you'd rather just stick with the easier fix."
Unlike Rey, Leia finished swallowing before answering, "The transports would be ideal. But the problem is going to be finding that many compatible thrusters, in good enough condition, without poking around the Core." It was rare to find sets of anything in the scrapyards they normally reclaimed parts from, and it was important to this particular make of ship that the thrusters were the same kind. For that, they'd have to step up the quality of establishment they dealt with, which unfortunately came with more risk of record trails and First Order tracing. "Artoo, pull up all private garages or part consignments between Varyka and the Core."
The map he presented wasn't promising. There were two or three in the outer rim, but their inventory advertisements only had thrusters fit for podracing or small speeders. The choices started to open up at the border of the mid-rim territories. Rey winced, "Do you think Irasale would be willing to give us thrusters? I saw several civilian cruisers that had ones we could outfit."
The General pursed her lips, "I don't want to ask for too many more favors. They've agreed to replenish the Tantive's bacta stores, I don't want to risk losing that." Then she sighed. There was always a problem to fix and the solution never failed to create a problem of its own. "What class do they need to be?"
"Three, at the least."
Leia stood, bowl in hand, and paced the room as she ate, "Artoo, narrow it down to the ones that have some in their on-hand inventory." The droid replied and wobbled, then the map adjusted…they were all in the Core. "Dank farrik."
The younger woman sat straighter with an idea, "Wasn't Maz in the Core, last we heard? Dealing with Union disputes or something?"
"She was." Leia walked around the map and stopped in front of the small sphere they'd last contacted the little orange being on. "I don't know if she still is. But if anyone can smuggle eight engine thrusters out of the Core, it'd be Maz."
"Easier trade than this one," Rey smirked, "We just offer her dinner with Chewie."
Leia countered, "Ah. But what would we have to give Chewie to go through with it?"
"Porg?" Rey joked, "I know where to get some…" And The Princess laughed, "No, leave the poor porgs alone. We'll see what she says first."
Finished with the noodles, Rey stacked the bowl with the other dishes (all plates she practically licked clean). "So, cap the list with the transports then?"
"Yeah," affirmed Leia, after another minute of consideration, "We need the transports more. So, either way, we'll figure it out. Anything else?"
They'd neared the end of her list. All that was left for Rey to mention was, "The Tantive has blaster marks in the entry corridor."
Leia, finishing another bite of udoon, waved her hand dismissively, "They've been there for years and years. It's just a cosmetic issue."
"I can get them out," assured Rey, "Just need a lewingwire brush and some bloggin-oil."
Leia smiled appreciatively but shook her head, "Don't worry about it. Pull up the list of pilots at the port, we should go ahead and get them assigned."
Before doing so, Rey added the brush and oil to the list of supplies anyway.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you are enjoying this fic, please, please, take a second to drop a line. It would mean the world to me. It really helps motivate me to push through the writer's block I sometimes get, when I know people are actually reading and like this thing. To those who answered my poll question at the end, I will still be utilizing one or both of those ideas. This chapter ended up so long already, I had to push those events to later chapters. Thank you for being patient.