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Chapter 2: Home

"I'm sorry we don't have any other simulators available, but this is an Imperial base, so we only have the programs for the TIE-line, at the moment," Trooper Tevo said apologetically as she led the three guests into a large, darkened room where spheres around two metres in diameter were suspended on large stilts. Two of the three were spinning around, sometimes wildly, sometimes in a rather controlled manner. "It seems we came in at a good time, one of the holosimulators is free."

Once again, TC-A5 was translating, just like on their tour the previous day, during which the hangar had been followed by a short visit to the bridge of Harry's flagship, the engine room, and then another, much smaller ship called Morningstar. The symbolism was, to Hermione, both rather on the nose and incredibly amusing. Still, with every little piece of his life here that she saw, her unwavering assumption, that her best friend would come back and save the day with them, was being undermined.

"At the moment, we're having some of the slaves that we freed most recently be trained as pilots," their guide continued, pointing out the small queue of various aliens standing in wait before the ladders leading up to the large balls. "Only if they want to, of course. No one is obligated to serve just for being freed, but many want to do something. I think the Lieutenant is currently looking for botany specialists to help determine what will grow here. Hey, is the third simulator down?!"

The last part had been called up to a man looking more at home with these strange devices than anyone else in the entire room, leading Hermione to guess he had to be the teacher or supervisor.

"Down for maintenance," the supervisor answered with an apologetic shrug. "Otherwise, we'd be done already. I'm under strict orders to get the rookies trained up as quickly as possible, we still have an entire wing of fighters grounded because we don't have enough pilots."

Once again, the translation she received was eye-opening for Hermione. Obviously, she did not know what the numbers involved were, when people were speaking of an entire wing of fighters, but it was more and more apparent that the organisation Harry was heading here was also a military power, the relative size of which remained to be determined. At the moment, all she knew was he had multiple fighter squadrons under his command, as well as at least one larger warship, the corvette they had seen earlier.

"How large exactly is this operation?" Neville then asked the question that had been on Hermione's lip. "There have to be hundreds of people here."

"Around 800… 900 now, I think," Tevo agreed, her usual morose countenance broken by some pride, if just for a moment. "It's going to be a few hundred more, soon, if the Princess has her way; they're going to be trying to smuggle the Alderaanian refugees from Coruscant and bring them here."

As far as Hermione was concerned, she had nothing to say to that; did not even have much to think about that, really, did not know, what to think about that. She knew little of what the other woman was speaking of.

"Sorry you could not try the simulator, though," the trooper broke into her contemplative silence. "I can let you drive the speeder later, but no flying a fighter until you've logged some hours in the holosim. It's standing orders."

She was already in the process of turning around to lead them out of the room, when she turned back to them, once more, and added, "Common sense, too, really; the pilots bandy about a story about a guy who was so sure of himself he could do without the training, he slammed nose first into a large cliff the moment he first touched the controls."

Not even George could supress his small laugh at the anecdote; they had probably all remembered a similar story the older Quidditch players at Hogwarts liked to tell of an unnamed student too sure of his own brilliance on a broom, they had managed to flatten themselves against the stands during the first lesson Hooch oversaw. Whether it was true or not, no one really knew anymore, but it always did its job of ensuring people listened to the good advice of the flying teacher. Well, everyone but Malfoy and Harry, but there were outliers every year, and every few years, someone would replace the pupil mentioned in the cautionary tale. Still, even thinking of Quidditch, one of the things she liked least had, across a fair number of associations in her head, led her to the question she had been itching to ask for quite some time now. Maybe it was because of Quidditch Through the Ages.

"Is there a library around here somewhere? Or a collection of books I could look through? There's got to be some fascinating stuff around here to learn."

OOOOOOOO

"Hello Sanctuary Base, this is the Alderaanian Twilight, entering final approach now."

Jane was getting increasingly proficient with comms procedure, now that her basic piloting training was mostly done, and she truly seemed to enjoy the additional responsibilities. Maybe controlling the situation was exactly what she needed to experience, Leia mused, looking at the content, if rather concentrated looking Twi'lek. Already, Javoc and Corsek were down in the lower level of 'her' ship, preparing the credits for unloading, along with the barter items they had gotten from the Consortium in trade for the information that it was Black Sun that had painted a target on Zann's back. Not surprising, given the two factions' intense enmity, but they had delivered what they promised, so their customers/blackmailers had held up their end of the bargain. It was common sense, really, or the Consortium would be getting a reputation for not honouring their promises. That was bound to negatively affect their bottom line.

"Alderaanian Twilight, you're cleared for landing on pad 13A. Welcome home, Jane."

Apparently, the base personnel were getting to know the lovely former slave as well, and she them. A good thing if there ever was one, as far as the queen… princess was concerned. More friends were always a good investment of time, she had found, and could only help in the development of Jane's independent personality. Was the conditioned need to submit, to be approved of ever going to leave? Probably not. But maybe she could learn, in time, to not let that need be to the detriment of her own well-being.

"Thanks, Morvane."

Sighing out loud, Leia now had to finally admit to herself what she was really trying not to think about: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and the whole mess things seemed to be all of a sudden. She was almost certain that, given the opportunity to choose between staying and leaving, he would choose staying here, with his friends and with her, but almost certain, as her nightmares could attest to, was not cutting it anymore. And the man's noble instinct of sacrificing his own happiness for the good of others was always a wild card, too; if his old friend, the woman he seemed to see as something of a sisterly figure in his life, could convince him, that he was needed more in his old home, there was a real possibility he would go. In a way, it was hard to begrudge the bushy-headed witch her position on the issue, but oh, how much easier it would be, if she had not grown fond of the other woman during Harry's tales.

Hate would be so much easier than the jumbled mass of emotions currently running rampant inside her chest.

Over these thoughts, the Alderaanian Twilight had set down, and Leia was now following their self-declared pilot down the narrow ladder/stairs. Down, on the lower level, Javoc and Corsek were already waiting with their loot and packs already loaded onto the hoversled. After days of being cramped up in the VT-49's moderately spacious confines, they were obviously all raring to get outside once again. It was an impulse she understood all too well; for a young woman who had grown up on the lush plains and wide palace gardens of Alderaan, the tight quarters aboard a starship were always rather confining, even if she gladly bore it if the end goal was worthy.

The first thing she noticed as the group stepped down the access ramp was the chill that hung in the air; obviously, even at the location close to the equator the base had been erected at, the planetary winter was fast approaching, making her once again think of the possibility of finding a few farmers out to settle greener pastures. Obviously, there were some botanists and farmers among the Alderaanians, there were some of those among every larger group of Alderaanians, but those they would first have to get off of Coruscant. For that, to make it in any reasonable amount of time, they needed more ships. More ships needed more crew, trained crew, preferably. Trained crew needed space to live; so would the refugees, come to think of it, and the garrison base's quarters were limited, if they wanted to keep occupancy numbers low enough for no more than two people in a single room. In the long run, larger quarters were obviously the aim, so maybe families could develop. For that, though, there was too much of a gender imbalance, too many men and not enough women.

There was just so much to do, and there seemed to be so little time to do it all. Well, no, there was definitely enough time to sort out farming, what with the years' worth of Imperial rations they had in stock. Still, Imperial standard rations and synthesiser food would only cut it for so long, and she was not going to be eating tasty, imported foodstuffs while the base personnel were expected to make do with the less tasty options. Leia Organa led by example, damn it.

What they had in spades, though, was money, so that was a load off her mind, for somehow even Mercer, Harry's designated deputy, seemed to look to her these days when it came to leadership during his continued period of incapacitation. Yes, she was his girlfriend, but how the hell was she supposed how he would decide on things if the Imperial deserter did not know himself. They had known 'the Captain' as people were calling him around here, for around the same amount of time, with only minutes in between their first meetings. Arguably, while Leia's time with her boyfriend had undoubtedly been more intense, they had had less time overall, what with her Alliance duties coming up from time to time, while the lieutenant was actually talking with and advising Harry on command decisions.

"Oh, you're back," the somewhat frosty voice of Hermione Granger reached her ear. The witch was sitting on a small rock a ways away from the large vehicle bay doors leading into the base proper, reading some obscure scroll she had likely gotten from Arden. Unfortunately for her, Leia was ticked off and worried, meaning she was probably not the most sensible person in that particular moment.

"Yes, back," the princess… queen snarked back, looking at her uninvited conversation partner coldly. "It's my home. Just like it's Harry's."

She would never admit it to anyone, but she had secretly been working on her English skills, just so she could communicate better with their three guests. Maybe, deep down, she was hoping they would decide to stay, just so Harry might feel a bit more at home, and the one named George, the one with the missing ear, certainly seemed like a new start was exactly what he needed. How losing your twin was supposed to affect you, she really had no idea, never having had a twin herself. It would have to be like losing a part of one's own self, especially for an identical twin. To be reminded of that loss whenever you looked into a mirror… she shuddered at the mere thought.

"Harry has a home," Hermione declared, defiantly looking down the few centimetres of height advantage she had over Leia. "And it's suffering without him, everything we've fought to end is gaining the upper hand with him gone. And his friends miss him."

"Well, they would miss him here, too," the shorter of the two bit back, not letting herself be cowed. "He built this place, and these people depend on him. Hasn't he done enough for this supposed home you're speaking of? More than anyone could ever ask for?"

That seemed to shut Hermione up, and Leia could see the gears behind her intelligent eyes grinding. For all the anger that had just been aired, she still did not overly dislike the woman; the concept of her existence, perhaps, but not the woman herself. In a way, she was looking out for Harry, too, they both were. What her head understood, her heart was not quite ready to admit, though.

"Are you sure you're really here as a rescue operation because you were worried what had become of him, or are you here to guilt trip him into coming back? Because it would be what you think is best, and you are always right."

The words stung Hermione, as much was obvious; with every syllable uttered, that small height advantage she had so expertly played up only moments earlier was shrinking, and everything further now was a rather low blow, a kick into the unprotected side of someone already on the ground.

"Are you sure it's Harry you're here for, not the Boy-who-lived? Yes, he told me about that ridiculous title. He's been here for two years now, one I've known him. Are you so sure about what he'll do, even after two years of change? And hasn't he earned the right to think of himself, just for once. There's no peace either here or back in your world, it seems, but at least here, he has all these people behind him. How could you even ask him to go back to where he's either hated or… or… revered beyond anything even approaching reasonable."

If her earlier words had stung Hermione, then this angry tirade, the emotions gathered over countless small, innocent-seeming mentions of his original universe, had painfully slapped her in the face. Any notion of victory, if something like that was even possible in this fight, was gone with the fire in her opponent's brown eyes and replaced by guilt at the broken quality in them. If she had not been feeling bad enough already, it was certainly the case when the bushy-haired witch turned around in tears and fled toward the turbolifts. That had not been her goal, most definitely not; Leia was unsure what she had hoped to gain in this confrontation, if anything, but this was not it. Beyond her own guilt, her not getting along with Hermione was going to hurt Harry, who obviously thought very highly of the bushy-haired woman. She was not even feeling up to be proud of herself about how much her English had proved to have increased.

Suddenly much less excited about her success in securing their hoped-for bonus from Zann, she slumped along the corridors of the base toward the same lifts Hermione had just fled for. Great, now even the turbolifts were giving her a guilty conscience. Maybe there was something to Arden's concept of blowing off steam by training in hand-to-hand combat. Not on people, like the Dathomirian liked to do with those seeking a challenge, but maybe with one of the punching bags the base gym had available. Decision made, she called for one of the elevator carts and selected the appropriate level for reaching her quarters. Once there, not giving herself time to overly ponder things, she strode out, into the rooms adjacent to Harry's she had claimed as hers and stripped down to her birthday suit. She allowed herself a small moment of pride in how muscled her body had become due to her training, and then got into some more workout-appropriate clothing choices. They were somewhat close in cut to the Jedi robes Obi-Wan used to wear, though made from a much finer cloth. Sturdy, still, but they betrayed her cultured, wealthy upbringing.

Once she reached the training areas, she had to find all of the punching bags already occupied, so the hoped-for outlet for her anger was going to have to wait for a while.

"Hi. I see we had the same idea."

Leia had been stretching, preparing her body for the kind of exertion she knew would bring her through the night, nightmare-free, and have her feel refreshed in the morning, when the voice from behind her back startled her.

"Hello, Javoc," she greeted the former Army mechanic, who had donned a combination of no shirt and tight pants for his workout. Were there any single women on the base, Leia knew they would have appreciated the sight; luckily, she could hide the snort that escaped at the thought of setting the man up on a date behind he slightly larger than average sneeze. "I had a run-in with Hermione and need to let off some steam," the Princess eventually admitted, thinking back to how he had once opened up to her about the reasons he had joined the Empire, tried to apologise for it, even.

"Maybe not exactly the same idea, then," the young man laughed, throwing one of the large wooden quarterstaffs her way that she deftly caught. "I just wanted to get some movement in after being cramped into the VT-49 for days."

If he was offering to suffer her anger, she was not going to stop him; he was warned, she had told him she was ticked off, and he had offered, anyway. Plus, the line at the punching bags had gotten longer, not shorter.

"You're on, Grease Monkey."

If Javoc took offense at the nickname, he did not show it. Instead, he led the way to one of the flat, padded surfaces reserved for this kind of bout, placing himself in a balanced stance in one of the corners of the red square denoting this particular training space. Conscious of her own anger, wary of it, even, Leia herself chose a more defensive posture; less open, less ready to attack at a moment's notice, but suitable for trying to hold back a stronger, more physically capable adversary. Those were certainly two qualities it would be appropriate to ascribe to this particular opponent, at least in relation to her.

"Until one taps out or says tapcaf?" the mechanic clarified their adherence to local standard rules, receiving only a grim nod in return. Oh yes, if he was volunteering, it would be downright rude to decline, and Leia was feeling her frustrations bubble up now, her worries and fears.

Without warning, Javoc broke into action, quickly approaching her position in the opposite corner; almost as quickly, she countered, dodging his advance to the side and letting the padded end of her weapon drive down into his back, making him fumble. But she was not in a position to capitalise on that weakness, exposed as she herself was after that strike. It was likely, even a low, weak blow of the kind Javoc might have been capable of from his position might have felled her. So, she retreated along the side of the training area, reversing their positions from the beginning of the bout.

"Feeling better already?" the mechanic asked blithely. Had he let her hit him, or was he playing mind-games, the kind Arden always told them to at least try, so their opponents might be sent off-kilter?

"I'll feel better once you're crying out tapcaf," she replied with all the finality she could muster; while it was true she was probably the more trained than her opponent, Javoc's wry frame was surprisingly strong and incredibly flexible. And he was quick, especially on his footwork, she now noticed, as they circled around each other on the hard mats.

The next attack, just like the one before it, came without warning; only this time, it was Leia who was on the offence. A feint downward, followed by a quick change in direction, turning the wide, sweeping arc into a sharp trust Javoc only managed to avoid by twisting his head out of the way only just in time. A moment slower, and she would have knocked some screws loose.

"Gotta be quicker than that," he taunted, dancing away from her hasty follow-up attack. "And way quicker than that."

They continued like this for a while, and it was indeed a cathartic experience. With every crash of the training weapons against each other, some of the excess emotion she had been feeling, was bleeding off; oh, she was still worried, and nothing would change that in the long run, but it felt no longer stifling. Indeed, she felt like she could think again, completely unimpeded. In the end, though, even after dozens of blows traded once they had actually begun crossing their weapons and not just continually dodging, it became clear the two were rather evenly matched. While simply staying, continuing the way they were now, sounded incredibly inviting, Leia knew she still had things to do, places to be.

"Tapcaf," she finally called out after one last, especially brutal bout that had left them both winded, drenched with sweat and breathing rapidly. "I have to go talk to Mercer, now, do all that organising thing being Harry's girlfriend seems to make my job."

Javoc did nothing to hide his small bout of laughter. "Admit it: you love it," the deserter chuckled with a wry smile. "You can't even really pretend you don't. If you're ever out of things to do, you would wilt like a cactus out of the sun."

Not deigning his observation with an answer, they both already knew it was either going to be an affirmation or a lie, anyway, she placed the training staff back on its rack before heading to the communal fresher directly adjacent to the training area. The showers, separated by gender, were almost empty, with only a young, pale former slave, if her stature was anything to go by, also making use of them currently. For a moment, Leia allowed herself to wonder who might have picked her up, and where, and how her life must have been like, before. Had she been enslaved all of her life, perhaps been born as one? Or were there parents, still desperately searching out there, for this pale girl with the blue eyes and sickly blonde hair? Or worse, was there a pair of parents out there who had sold her in the first place?

"It's alright, you can stay; this is your home just as much as it is mine," she assured the slip of a girl, who was visibly about to bolt. Whether that was because anyone had come in, or because Leia specifically had come in, she did not know. "These are communal showers, they're for all of us to use. If I wanted to shower alone, I would have to go back to my quarters, just like everybody else."

It was hard to gauge the girl's age, she found; physically, as could be judged from her naked body, she did not look like she had finished puberty. There was little body hair, no breast development to speak of, save perhaps for a subtle roundness under her slightly developed nipples… then again, it stood to reason this one had not been well-fed at all, as was given silent witness to by her appalling state of nutrition. With that in mind, she could probably be anywhere between nine and 15, maybe sixteen.

"What's your name, young lady?" Leia questioned gently, sitting down on the floor cross-legged. It was rare she felt the need to actually make herself seem smaller for anyone, being far from tall herself, but this time, it felt like it was a good idea. Indeed, no longer faced with a fully clothed, comparatively tall Queen of the Alderaanians-in-Exile, but with just another naked woman, dripping wet from the shower, the young girl seemed to lose some of her edge. Whatever happened to put that fear inside her… Leia found herself having trouble picturing it, and for once she was glad about a lack in imagination.

"Ximna, my Lady," the pale being sitting across from her, hands demurely folded on her lap, replied.

"Hello, Ximna; I'm Leia." Hearing confirmation that she was indeed the Leia Organa seemed to worry the girl once again, even though said royal had made herself just about as vulnerable as she reasonably could. "And none of that 'my Lady' stuff, just Leia will do just fine."

"Leia." The word was spoken hesitantly, as if she was trying out how it felt on her tongue.

"How old are you, Ximna?"

"I don't know," she replied, flinching, as if fearing reprisal.

"How come you don't know?" Pulling answers from her was like trying to pull Harry out of a starfighter when, just for once, he actually had time to go flying for the sake of flying.

"They never told me."

Though she was very tempted to inquire as to who these 'they' might be, Leia decided to table the until later, maybe when the girl was actually willing to stand up for herself. However long that might take, obviously. Asking her like this felt a bit like invading her privacy, with Ximna clearly unwilling to say no to a request from anyone, especially one of the leaders around Sanctuary.

"But it was four-and-a-half Wookie life days ago." The slight change in tone, maybe an ounce of fondness in the girl's voice let Leia perk up at least as much as having her reveal information actively.

"Four-and-a-half Wookie life days ago?" the queen questioned, more rhetorically than anything else, though Ximna still nodded, and somewhat eagerly too. If she was not completely mistaken, that would make the girl around fourteen standard years of age, maybe approaching fifteen. Three years between every celebration, it came out somewhere in that magnitude, especially with the holiday happening later in the year for every year that passed. "How do you know about Wookie life days?"

"Oh, the others told me."

So, she had not been alone, wherever it had been; by now, she wished she had paid more attention when Mercer told them about what had been going on while they were away. It would have come up in the briefing, she was sure, but she had been rather distracted by worrying about her boyfriend and his newly amputated arm.

"Who were these others?"

"Well, the Wookiees, of course," the girl said, like Leia was being daft for not understanding immediately. Well, maybe she appeared to be, from the opposite perspective, anyway. Still, the happiness with which these ominous Wookiees were mentioned was enough to put a smile on the queen's face. "They always took care of me. Well, after my parents died."

Besides the saddening information of yet another orphan to deal with (and were those not just piling up around Sanctuary), something else struck her as odd. A slave girl, being taken care of by Wookiees after her parents' deaths somehow being able to communicate with her saviours… Leia doubted her captors would have taught her Shyriiwook.

"Where was it that Kisc picked you up, Ximna?"

"At the mine." Well, they were back to bland, unemotive answers of few words. But armed with the knowledge of exactly what kind of place she had been held in, Ximna's unnatural paleness and small frame was understandable. Already feeling somewhat responsible for the waif, Leia decided to take her for a thorough exam as soon as they were done here, just to make sure what she could only imagine to have been horrible conditions for a growing body would not haunt her for the rest of her life.

"And how come you understood the Wookiees?"

This question seemed to have really the girl, and if before, she had looked at the woman across from her quizzically, this was taking it to a whole new level. "Doesn't everyone?"

"It's notoriously difficult to learn," Leia replied, to the clear puzzlement of the girl she was talking to so casually, while they were both stark naked, sitting on the floor of the communal showers. "Hey, Ximna, have you eaten already? And has anyone checked you over, medically, since you arrived?"

When the girl shook her head in response to both questions, the queen decided to change the answer to both; and if that was going to distract her from Harry, as well as the Hermione of it all, so much the better.

OOOOOOOO