AN: The chapters do start getting longer as the story goes on... honest...
Previous disclaimers apply...
Missing
II.
Leia Organa lay on her bunk, sound asleep. Her room was bathed in twilight; the only sounds were her contented sighs and the quiet rustle of the sheet as she moved. Various articles cluttered the small apartment: combs for her hair; clothes piled on a chair, ready lest she needed to dress quickly; several viewing tapes; a mixture of educational and historical holos, stacked next to her console. Two holo-pictures of Han Solo and Luke Skywalker took pride of place on her dresser.
She moaned as she dreamed, and pulled the sheet more tightly around her body, as though trying to defend herself against her mind's visions. Her eyes sprang open at the first chime of the intercom, suddenly afraid. They only woke her if something was wrong. She reached over and quickly flicked the appropriate switch.
"Your Highness?" It was the general. "I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but Captain C'raon's transport is just docking. I thought you would like to know."
Leia was completely awake. Luke was back; now, at last, she may have some company. Since Han had left, things had been so dull. Luke wouldn't be too pleased, though; he had wanted to go with Han on the supply run. "Thank you, General; I'll be right there."
She slipped into a light-blue jump suit, pulled on her boots, placed two combs in her hair to keep it tidy, and rushed out her door and into the corridor. She tried to keep the eagerness out of her steps as she walked toward the docking bay. The sergeant and two of the soldiers from Luke's mission passed her, and Leia was immediately concerned when she noted the dirty, bloodied faces, and the tired glazed eyes. The sergeant nodded a silent acknowledgement and walked on.
Unsettled, Leia watched them round the corner, before stepping into the docking bay. She immediately spotted Wedge talking to the general. He looked just as bad as the sergeant had, if not worse. Where were the X-Wings? Where was Luke? She saw the two men look in her direction; the general murmured a few more words to Wedge before he left. Leia watched him go, puzzled; her previous lightheartedness darkening as a feeling of tight dread crept over her.
"Wedge?" She spoke his name but she was actually asking what had happened
"They were waiting for us." There was a suppressed sob in his words. He leaned against the transport's lifters, drained. "We didn't stand a chance."
Leia reeled as the news struck her like a slap on the cheek. How many times had she heard that age old cliché? How many times would it have the same impact on her? She cleared her clogged throat. "How many did we lose?"
"Eleven."
Leia fought to control her rising fear. She whispered, "Luke?"
Wedge nodded, unable to speak.
Leia's hand went to her throat. She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the sudden pain.
Wedge reached out, touched her arm, trying to convey succour despite his own discomfort.
"Are you sure?" She forced out, her voice merely a whisper.
He nodded again, wet his lips nervously. "The sergeant saw him go down. We owe Luke our life…After the Captain was killed, he…"
Leia interrupted him. "Did you check that he was...?"She couldn't say the last word, couldn't think of Luke being dead.
"There wasn't time; the Imperials were right behind us. But…"
"Then he might've only been wounded!" Leia clutched at the thin thread.
"Your Highness," Wedge protested, "he's dead."
"Maybe not." She had to have something to hold on to.
"Princess, the sergeant saw him go down. There's not a chance in the galaxy of him surviving. The Imperials were seconds behind us; even if the blast didn't kill him, the Stormtroopers would have finished him off. "
Leia listened to his words. What he said was true; but Luke was a Rebel officer, he knew Alliance secrets, knew the location of their base. Surely the Imperials wouldn't throw his life away without trying to get something from him? She shuddered, upset with her thoughts; sudden images of Luke injured and in pain, chained in a cell as the black droid floated towards him. She shook herself disturbed by the clarity of the mental picture.
She nodded and spoke softly. "You've made your point, Wedge. He was your friend, too. I'm sorry." She looked at his appearance. "You had better rest and get cleaned up. You can make your report later."
"Thank you." He realized he was still holding her arm, and let her go. "You'll be all right?"
She nodded. "Yes." She watched him walk, slump-shouldered, from the hangar. She turned and looked at the transport, wishing with all her heart to see Luke run down the ramp; and grief swelled thickly within her. She looked around the hangar at the technicians tending to their duties, pilots preparing for patrols, all avoiding looking in her direction, all of them aware of the Rebellions recent losses. Pushing back her grief, she returned to her quarters.
The door swished softly behind her and she fell against it. She took the combs from her hair and threw them onto the dresser next to the holo-pictures. Steadying herself, she crossed to her console and flicked on the intercom.
"Yes?" the general's voice responded to her paging.
"General, have…" she hesitated, swallowing hard. "Have Lieutenant Skywalker listed as Killed in Action."
There was a pause, then, "Yes, Your Highness and my condolences…"
"Thank you."
Leia switched the com off and reached for one of the holo-pictures. Luke stood proudly in his borrowed outfit of yellow jacket, and dark trousers, the gold medal around his neck contrasting sharply with his black shirt. He grinned at her. Leia smiled back, tears now blurring her vision.
She lay down, still clutching the holo, wondering when Han was due back. She dreaded telling him about Luke; in the short six months since the Death Star Luke had become like a younger brother to the Corellian. And to her, he was… A sob tore from her throat, and she buried her head in her pillow, wishing there was someone she could turn too, someone to hold her, someone in whom she could confide. Someone like Luke...