If she could name something about herself when she lived on Alderaan that was true, it was that she was thorough and she prepared. It felt good to see it in herself now. A quality of Leia Organa that was true both Before and Since. And so part of her preparations for the tauntaun race were a bit of self-confirmation. She did it for herself.
Luke expected to win, but Leia thought she had a chance. He might have the Force, but he was inexperienced. He didn't know Hoth like she did. These were factors a warrior queen took into consideration. They would ride out to survey the land, keeping counsel with themselves. They would think about the quality of their foe, and the size of their armies, even the weather.
If anything, she was not going to make it easy for Luke. The longer he went without a teacher, the more he needed to feel the utility of the Force. He was beginning to doubt his own memory, something Leia understood all too well. She didn't know much about the Force herself, except for what her father had told her. Things he had seen. All done from deep inside the wielder of the Force: an unseen hand moving an object, an intention revealed, even an opinion swayed. He had respected the Jedi and hoped they respected him.
"But I always held myself in check," he had told her. "I didn't like the thought of being laid bare before them."
Years later, writing about his Just War and contemplating history, he came to see the downfall of the Jedi as inevitable. "It was too much power in one place." Like the warrior queens, he read the lay of the land. "Either they would seize power themselves, and ultimately cause their own undoing by infighting, or someone would have to remove the power from them."
"Palpatine," Leia concluded for him.
"It's a wonder how he kept his nature from them," Bail mused. "I didn't see it until it was too late, but I think I glimpsed it before the Jedi."
Leia thought the Force in Luke was part of her friendship with him. She didn't feel laid bare. Her father must have meant scrutinized. Luke delighted in the things the Force gave him. A depth of feeling that intensified a moment of contact, a relationship. She could relate to that. The loss of Alderaan had done the same for her. It may not be the Force, but whatever it was, she understood the miracle of interaction. Like sunshine to a plant. Life blossomed.
The animal tender was surprised by Leia's early appearance. Even the tauntauns were not yet done with night. They huddled against the cavern wall in a few groups and only one adult and the very young ones bothered to notice her. The rest stayed sleeping. The lighting inside was dim. Leia held her glove against her nose. Someone was scooping out food and another was raking piles of waste. Outside, she knew, the smell wouldn't be so noticeable.
"Welcome, Your Highness," the tender said. "I haven't seen you here since the training. Is there something you wish to see? Are you making an inspection?"
His face was uncovered. Leia assumed he must have gotten used to the smell. There was a lesson there perhaps, but then she was always finding lessons. She would think about that later. She had come to select a tauntaun and put it on reserve so when it was time to race Luke it was fresh.
"No inspection," she smiled disarmingly. "I brought the first six in and I was curious to see how they are coming along."
"Please, Your Highness," the tender waved her in. "Come see for yourself. The first six... let's see. There's three of them there in that group. The females. The males tend to stay off by themselves. They're doing great. As an introductory species, they took to Hoth well."
"Look how many more there are," Leia gushed with a false enthusiasm she had learned from Han in the role of Ruddy. There were now far more than six, and the young represented several generations. She could tell by the range in size and coloring. "And how have these adapted to patrols?"
"Soon as the oil coat comes in, we start training them," the tender explained. "They learn to carry a pack, and we get them used to the halter and reins. After that, they'll accept a rider for patrols."
"The oil coat?"
"It's what keeps them warm. A thick secretion." The tender held up his darkly stained gloves. "It's also what makes them smell."
"They aren't born with that?"
"No, see those youngsters over there? Very white, kind of fuzzy looking? The oil glands aren't mature yet. They stay sheltered with an adult for warmth."
She didn't think she would have thought it possible to be genuinely interested in the physiology of tauntaun, but she found herself poking an adult with her finger, watching how deep her glove sank into the oil barrier.
"Your glove is going to smell now," the tender told her.
"Oh," Leia fretted. "I didn't think about that. I don't want it to. Have you found anything that will clean-"
The tender was laughing. "Of course we did. Took us three days. Let me have your glove, Your Highness."
Leia handed it over and sniffed her bare hand to see if her skin reeked of tauntaun. Then she pinched her nostrils.
"This stuff here." The tender shook a metal canister which had a narrow spray tube sticking out of it. "You know, it's a shame the secretion smells so bad. Otherwise, we might use it on our own bodies to help with staying warm. A bad smell is a silly reason not to do something. This is a saponifier," he explained. "Let it soak a few minutes, then run a sonic over it."
Leia thanked him and placed the glove in her pocket. Tugging her sleeve down over her knuckles, she strolled around the animal pen. Only one kept a wary eye on her. The rest stayed quiet. The matriarch, Leia supposed. Or patriarch. However tauntauns arranged themselves. "Do those on patrol use a favorite mount?"
"Some do."
"They form a bond?" She squatted by a young tauntaun whose fur was just beginning to darken from oil. Its large eyes looked at her. "Hello," she told it softly.
"The animals do show a personality. This one here," the tender patted the back of the watchful one, "she's pretty stubborn."
"Is she?" Leia got up and approached the animal. It was amazing he was able to distinguish between the animals. "Does Commander Skywalker have a favorite?"
"He's not particular. He's been deployed so long he hasn't gotten to know them all."
"He has patrol later, I know," Leia said. She looked sideways at the tender. "He'll switch mounts when he races?"
The tender wasn't concerned about hiding the fact of the races from her. "I'll be sure he does, Your Highness. The General doesn't like them overworked."
That's right, Leia thought to herself, Rieekan the Hutt. She had forgotten momentarily
"The ones that race usually go out in the afternoons. They have a nap and are good to go. They like being outside in the day," the tender continued.
Leia returned to the young tauntaun, taking her time over the trampled ice. "This one," she said. "Can it race?"
"That's a male. Number Eighteen. He's a little small-"
"What I mean is, can he take the cold?"
"For a race? Sure, those are quick. His coat's not all the way in yet, but he's been outside without a parent."
"And is he used to a rider?"
"He's started the training. Haven't graduated him out yet but he's coming along."
"I'm racing today," Leia told him.
The tender was surprised. "You're racing, Your Highness?"
"Against Commander Skywalker. I'd like Number Eighteen. And-" Leia paused, wondering how the tender would react, "I don't wish to boost my odds, but I would like to even the playing field."
The tender looked intrigued. He probably bet on the outcomes same as anyone else here. Except for her, and possibly Dr. Renzatl. Leia wondered suddenly if Rieekan placed bets.
The tender cocked his head at her. "This'll be fun. What do you have in mind, Your Highness?"
"If you'd let me choose a mount for Commander Skywalker." Leia put up a hand before he could interrupt her. "Feel free to mention it to him. He can reject my suggestion. I have no intention of rigging the race. But for reasons only he knows, he should ride the stubborn one."
The tender enjoyed being privy to select information. "Are you sure he'll go along with that?"
"Commander Skywalker has his reasons," Leia repeated.
"Sure then, I'll save her for him," he promised.
Leia gave him a friendly nod and walked toward the exit. "What's the weather like today?"
The sky was still dark, but it wasn't pitch black. Leia stepped outside, beyond the enclosure.
"Would you like the boring answer, or the forecast?" The tender didn't follow her to the exit. "Actually, that's boring too. Cold and windy. Same as always. Snow tonight."
She scanned the sky, looking for the sun, but it was still below the horizon. She needed her glove and fished it out of her pocket. She barely registered the tender's answer. The ground was slippery and uneven from tauntaun prints. Beyond the ridge, something had caught her attention. It wasn't a meteor, because they didn't bounce over the ground in a pale yellow light. A star, then, come down to see. She headed toward it.
"That's Solo you see, Your Highness. He was dumping something over in that pile of junk leftover from construction."
"Dumping," Leia's brow lowered. The word was in contrast to the almost magical sight. Her feet kept moving. The cold air on her cheeks felt like glass. She raised her hood.
"Your Highness-"
She had taken enough steps that the effort to return seemed as great as the one to meet the bouncing light. She half-turned to the tender. "It's fine."
The light was dancing her way, bobbing merrily, moving irregularly. Leia lifted her arm and waved broadly in an arc and almost slipped on the ice. "Hello!" she called.
The light lowered itself, and held steady straight on her. Most definitely Han. Not a star. She kept walking, following the darker shadow of the rise. She made little progress but the light was brighter, directed on her. She shielded her eyes with her forearm.
His voice came above the light. It carried in the dry air crystal clear, a little breathless from the cold. "Need a lift, Highness?"
"Actually, I do," she smiled, even though she wasn't sure he could see it.
He pulled up beside her and slid off his mount. Now the light clipped to the reins cast enough brightness where she could see him clearly.
"Inspecting the troops?" he asked with a sly grin.
Luke must have told him about the race. She liked the way he put things. "In a manner, yes. I've selected Number Eighteen."
"Eighteen. Don't know that one."
"He's young. Still being trained. Which one is this?" Leia reached up and put her hand on the saddle, which was covered by a long and wide piece of cloth. This protected riders from the oily coat, she gathered. Or it prevented the saddle from rubbing a sore into the animal. That was a nice thought. The mount gurgled.
"This one's mine. Number Seven."
"Do you always use her?"
"Him, yeah." So the lone smuggler liked working in a team. Or the routine. Or he was loyal.
She moved around to the front of the animal and touched one of the curved horns. That part of its body didn't have an oil coat. "He got you up early," Leia observed to it. "Riding around in the dark." To Han, she said, "What are you doing out here? The tender said you were dumping something."
Han grunted, irritated. "I was cleaning the hangar. Fifty single players littering the floor. There's a bunch gettin' towed out today."
"Including you," Leia nodded, feeling... something. Not sad; it was a job and duty always held priority. But maybe that Hoth wouldn't be as interesting. "Will you be able to watch today's race?"
"Depends what time it happens. They assign clearance for a reason, you know. Though, here there's no traffic. Just the weather."
"Maybe I'll get Luke up. I don't want an audience. I don't need one, certainly, and my meeting might run late."
"Oh, there'll be an audience," Han said with an amused confidence. "Junior is all eager for this."
Leia grinned. "I'm sure he is."
"I wonder how competitive he is," Han mused. "He goes on about racing in the canyons on Tatooine. Think he'd do anything like use the Force to throw you?"
"Then I'd break a shoulder and be really angry with him," Leia answered. "I suppose we'll need some ground rules. Just what kind of Force is acceptable."
"I thought you said your feet don't reach the stirrups."
"I did. Number Eighteen isn't full grown."
"Ah." Han understood the reason for her choice. "But he's not used to a rider."
Leia grinned again. "Then I might break a shoulder and be really angry at myself."
Han's brows went up. "Two outcomes the same."
"There are others," Leia said tersely. "As an experienced rider, do you have any tips?"
"Maybe." Han pursed his lips. "How about I fill the stirrups and you take the reins. Gonna be a tight fit with that saddle. Here, get on up, Highness."
Leia grabbed the saddle mount with her hand. She had to lift her leg so high to step into the stirrup that she had no leverage to pull herself. Behind her, she heard Han laughing lightly. "Here," he said, and she was gripped around the waist and lifted until she could step properly up using her leg muscles. She swung her leg over and Number Seven shifted uneasily.
"S'alright, Sev," Han patted the rump of his mount. "She's new. You don't have goggles, do you?"
"No."
"Don't forget 'em when you race. Or you'll be crying icicles. Sit forward a bit, on the lip," he directed Leia. "So I can get up. And move your leg." With his own foot in the stirrup, he had to swing wider than he was accustomed to and had a bit of trouble. "Kriff," he swore, but soon was perched behind Leia.
"Now, you see how we're positioned at a pretty steep angle," he began. "And the back isn't meant for two riders."
"If they were meant for riders at all," Leia observed. She squirmed a bit, the saddle edge digging into thighs, and surveyed the view from this vantage point. It was still too dark to see much.
Han ignored her comment. "It's 'cause their front legs are so short. So I think we're going to fall off. But, before we do," and Leia smiled, "give a yank on this." He lifted the reins for her to take.
Leia pulled gently on the reins and Sev grumbled a little. "Let's go, Sev," she urged. They started to move, lumbering awkwardly. Leia watched the light play over the snow.
"Best thing for you, even if Eighteen is too tall, is lean way forward," Han advised. "That'll make you more aerodynamic. Bury your head in his smelly neck and grab on to the horns. They like to go fast, and the track is pretty obvious to them." Sev had begun a trot. "Pull back so we don't go so fast right now. I'm hangin' on for dear life."
Leia inched herself forward as much as she could so Han had a better seat behind her. She was very aware of how his legs paralleled hers. "I'll grab a pair of overalls," Leia said. She didn't want to worry about her snowsuit, her only work outfit, absorbing the oils of Number Eighteen. It would hold her back, she figured.
"Sure, build your strategy."
"And let Luke find the Force." Sev's long neck did provide a buffer zone from the wind, but it was hard to see ahead of her so she sat straighter.
"Don't shift your- shit, Hi-" He started a Corellian curse, and she saw his hand reach for the saddle mount, but then it receded, him groping all the while, until he grabbed the back of her snowsuit.
"Han- what-"
Sev's posture was upright, and with Han pulling on her the reins had little slack, making Sev stand even straighter. Leia was tipping backwards. At the same time she felt cold air at her back and she knew she was falling. She growled a little, frustrated, and the ground thudded.
"Mmfff," Han grunted. He was below her, on the ground, their legs no longer quite so parallel.
"Did we break a shoulder?" Leia wanted to know.
The tauntaun handler noticed something from his station. "Your Highness!" he called. Sev was trotting away, toward the pen. He look the light with him.
Leia waited a moment before trying to move. The ground was cold and hard, but it was mostly Han beneath her. She decided she was unhurt. "We're fine! Practice round," she yelled toward the handler. To Han, she said, "Was that as hard a landing as it sounded?"
"Bone shaking," he agreed, the steam of his breath rising in the air. "But not shattering. Sev! Come back here!" Han lifted himself on his elbows and bent his knees. The light was bouncing back their way. "Kriff," Han said, and then he laughed.
As he got to his feet and waited for Sev to return, he told Leia, "You know how you make those lists? I got one started. Things I Never. Never been in a garbage masher before. Never rescued a princess. Never got a kiss from one, either."
Han's eyes were on the larger crack of dawn showing on the horizon. He reached over to his mount and flicked the light off, and once again vision dissolved into the inky color of the sky. Number Seven gurgled, a cute sound really.
There was no click; sound was muted by the wind and his thick gloves, and yet Leia felt her body react. Her heart thumped, high in her chest, deep and fast. The promise of day held, clear and biting, and in the dark there was danger, and privacy and secrets. They were each thrilling, frightening, and infuriating.
"Never fallen off a tauntaun?" she added to the list for him. The gleam of his eyes was all of his face she could see, so different than the bouncing light. She read a gentle humor from them.
He stepped toward her, and used both hands to pull up her hood that had slid off during the fall. "Seems a princess is the common factor."
She moved closer, so that his cold gloves could meet around the base of her hood. "Then you'll have a full life," she told him.
In the shadow of the ridge, Sev blocking the view from the tauntaun pen, they kissed.
OAR's requisition list was longer than it had been, and it was for items not generally associated with an outdoor adventure. Bacta patches were of course part of emergency kits, but not the liquid variety, and not in quantity of volume to fill tanks, such as found in medical centers. Coils for a certain model snowspeeder might also give the impression that OAR was a front for a completely different type of business, and Leia could only hope that either the port authority saw so many lists they didn't bother to cross-reference, or that the office was corrupt and would accept a bribe from the crew of the Millennium Falcon. Han had mentioned once that bribes were fairly standard.
"I'm preparing for battle," General Rieekan told Leia. "We'll treat the wounded on the transports."
"Our risk grows with each passing day," Leia agreed. "I hope the coils are the fix this time."
"It is essential they function." Rieekan bounced the edge of a fist on the table. "It drives me crazy."
"They said a while ago it was a process of elimination," Leia remembered. "How many more things are left to cross off?"
Rieekan grunted. "They keep trying."
Leia went down the list. Rehy was a standard item. Thankfully kaf would be replenished as well as tea, she was glad to note. Dispoware and cutlery, additional plasma heaters to replace the ones in the shelters during the sims was also quite sensible...
"What is a wampa lure?" she questioned.
"Someone's got a sense of humor." Rieekan scratched his cheek. "Food, for the wampa. A lure would be for a hunting party, like OAR would schedule, but we want to keep them away. We try and make it tough to get a tauntaun because we need them, but they've snagged quite a few. And there's only two of them! if they're hungry enough they might go after us."
Leia thought about Number Eighteen, whose survival was attributed to the fittest according to the rules of attrition, but when each young was identical, what was it then, luck? Same as hers.
Or not; it depended on her mood.
"The natural world is very harsh," she said.
"So is the non-natural," Rieekan answered.
Leia nodded. She'd heard of young being killed by a rival sire because the genes were of the wrong pool. She knew animals fought each other to retain territory and food source rights. Wampa needed to eat, same as a tauntaun.
"When I think of Alderaan's war history," she mused aloud- she missed discussions like this, maidens and advisors in a room with a senator and a queen, trying to solve the dilemma of living- "were we that different than the wampa and tauntaun? The aggression met a need- get more land to feed a growing population, for instance. It felt like a moment of ambition, of power, but how aware are we that it might be instinct, a result of our own biology?"
Rieekan nodded thoughtfully. "If one stripped down human achievement," he pondered along with her, "forgot about repulsors and lasers, and looked at basic survival; to provide ourselves with food, clothing, and shelter, then war might be for the same reasons."
"I would like to think the level of achievement would make humans act on their social nature even more. If indeed it is a higher marker of civilization, of evolution. That they would care for each other, take care of each other. That the need for war would decrease. Instead," Leia felt that familiar hopelessness whenever her thoughts returned her to the bridge of the Death Star, the laser aimed for Alderaan, "our achievements make us less a part of the natural world."
"I don't think I'll ever understand it," Rieekan must have felt something similar, because he sounded tormented. "Anyway, that's the list. Is there anything you can think of to add?"
"Not with this budget," Leia stopped herself as well. "I'm sure all of us would appreciate more underclothing."
"Not with this budget," Rieekan's sad grin was back. "The coils are coming through the Alliance and on a barge. Solo will probably be delayed."
"I'm sure he understands," Leia murmured but her glance at Rieekan was sharp.
"Oh, he does," Rieekan agreed. He looked like he was holding something back. "I don't know why I mentioned it."
Leia was not convinced. Rieekan the Hutt. Still, his human nature was on display, caring and creative. She angled her face toward him and spoke dryly. "Because he's a big part of the nightly entertainment?"
Rieekan grinned at her. "So I hear."
"Do you wish to discuss the social life of Echo Base in this meeting?" Leia asked with an arched brow.
"Good goddess, you sound like your mother." Rieekan's face was pink, but it did seem to be an unwritten item for him on their meeting agenda. "I also hear that you'll be Commander Skywalker's opponent for today's tauntaun race. Look at this." He slid over a second data board.
Leia looked at it. It was entitled Petition and there were some scrawled signatures at the bottom. "I don't see what this has to do with Captain Solo."
"Those going out today are asking for a delay in clearance, enough to be able to watch the race." Rieekan was watching her face, and despite having to fight his way out of sinking into a despair only a moment ago, a twinkle was in his eyes.
"The pilots petitioned?" Leia asked incredulously. She didn't see Han's signature. He preferred letting others dictate circumstances, she knew, so it was in character. Unless he used an alias; that would also not surprise her.
"Janson," Rieekan named a pilot in explanation, and pretended to start to clean the table. "We better get out there."
"Carlist," Leia said, surprised and exasperated that not enough people took anything seriously here, or the wrong things seriously, but then she heard herself and stopped to laugh. "Not you, too."
Rieekan clasped his hands and looked at her from lowered eyes. "I'm in a unique position. I'm old enough to be the father of so many here. And I remember.
"There's a tauntaun here that's the guard. She keeps the others safe. She knows the world is harsh and she knows the wampa are hungry. But she tries." Rieekan touched the insignia bars on his jacket. "That's me. I know something bad is going to happen, and I know I can't stop it. If I could hide you all away to prevent it I would."
Leia missed this, too, the heartfelt eloquence of the bereaved.
Rieekan swallowed. "Then I think of my sons, what happened to them, but I remember their chidhood; how they played, how full of life they were. When the three goddesses return me to them, that's what we will talk about. Our memories of living.
"And that's what I would want for all of you. Especially you, Your Highness, who is also a guard." He bowed his head. "You are my guard."
Leia lowered her own head in response. She'd even missed this, the conflict of heartbreak. "I'm sorry," she shook her head, "interminably sorry."
"For you, too," Rieekan said.
"Yes. We always will be, won't we. No matter what."
Rieekan nodded. "Going back to what we were saying, while the goal of our instinctual bodies may be to preserve and continue life, it can't be done if no one is allowed to react to it."
Leia waited for more, her hand on her cheek, but Rieekan appeared to be finished. Six months ago, everyone would have understood if their meeting went on all day, things spoken and not. But now, there was a petition to halt work a few moments, a future Jedi who wanted to practice, and a smuggler who fell off a tauntaun for her. A battle loomed, too; that's what Rieekan meant by all this. Preparing to treat the wounded.
She thought back to her first night on Yavin, dressing in the dead pilot's room. Finding the letter to his mother and the candies he favored. His memory left behind. Memories nourished the living.
"The guard," Leia said. "That's the mount I requested for Luke. The tender told me she's stubborn."
Rieekan grinned, friendly and sad.