Leia sat dumbstruck on the seat she had been placed in. Luke was talking to her as he cleaned her bloody shoulder but she could not hear him, could not feel the pain of it.

He's gone, part of her mind said. He's gone.

How can he be gone? I loved him. I love him, said the rest.

But you saw him die. You saw him die for you

But he can't be dead. He had so much to live for. We had so much to live for. He was everything to me.

Like Alderaan was? And look what happened to Alderaan. It happens to everything you care about, doesn't it?

No, it's not my fault.

It wouldn't have happened if he'd never met you. You forced him to stay in the Alliance, too. And if you'd never been born Tarkin wouldn't have-

But then a different voice spoke. A voice she loved, a voice she cherished.

It wasn't your fault. They already had their orders, Princess. They wouldn't have blown it up without permission. Even Tarkin couldn't have done that.

And then she heard that voice, that same voice, telling her that he'd be watching while she made her speech. He'd be standing there while she awed the crowd.

Knock 'em dead, he'd told her.

She'd laughed and gone to make her way to the stage. And then, halfway through the speech, she'd suddenly hit the floor, taken down by the only man she'd allow to do so without demanding what was going on.

And then the running and the screaming and the blaster fire and the blood…

And one last embrace. One final kiss.

I love you.

That was the last thing he'd ever said to her.

I love you.

She remembered the first thing she'd ever heard him say.

Can't get out that way.

How strange. To meet and part under virtually the same conditions.

And now he was gone. The only man she'd ever truly loved, the only man who had ever truly loved her in return.

And whose fault is that? asked that voice at the back of her mind.

Luke rose from his place and took out the medi-pack. He pressed a patch of synthflesh to Leia's wounded shoulder and made sure it adhered.

"I'm done," he whispered.

Leia did not move.

"Leia…"

But he could not get through to her. He tried using the force and found that she was lost in memories. He could see them himself.

There was the first time he had shouted at her.

Maybe you'd like to get back in your cell Your Highness.

And there was the secret flush of adrenaline she remembered it had caused.

And their victorious return.

I knew there was more to you than money!

The first time she'd seen the Falcon.

You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought.

The first time they'd kissed.

I'm a nice man.

No you're not, you're-

There was the time she'd placed the medal around his neck after the Battle of Yavin and the wink he'd given her.

The argument they'd had in the corridor on Hoth.

Oh, we need? Oh, what about you need?

I don't know what you're talking about.

The Carbon-Freezing chamber.

I love you!

I know.

The first time they'd made love.

Luke withdrew from her mind and took hold of her shoulders.

"Leia, listen to me."

"Leia, listen to me…"

Why? What do you have to live for now?

"Leia, Algara's come to see you. He brought his family…"

You have to talk to them. You're a diplomat.

But what's the point? Why should you? If it weren't for that speech-

"Senator Algara," she said softly. "I thank you for coming to visit me."

The stormtroopers picked their way through the dead, searching desperately for their target. There were so many. One of them had to be the Princess.

"I'm sorry, Commander, she's not here," said one of his men.

"I don't understand. We saw her go down."

"She must have escaped. Her entire security squad is gone and there is no sign of the Princess."

"Commander!"

Both the commander and his second in command turned their heads.

"Sir! This one's still alive!"

The commander and a few of his surrounding troopers began to make their way toward the place the trooper was kneeling.

When they reached his side they saw that there was indeed someone who was still breathing.

"White male, estimated age thirty five, injury to lower abdomen. He's lost a lot of blood, Sir. He's not worth anything. I tell you what. Why don't I just put him out of his misery?"

He stepped forward, raising his blaster rifle.

"Wait," said another, grabbing his arm. "He looks important. He might know something. If we take him back and heal him, to a certain extent, we could see what information he's good for."

The Commander looked at the man, at the face that was deathly pale, at the blood that soaked the white vest beneath the black dress uniform, at the bloodied lips, the scar that ran beneath them.

"He's the Princess' Consort. I recognize him. And I don't doubt that when he wakes up he'll recognize me, too."

"You know him, Sir?"

"Oh yes. He served under me."

How long did it take someone to die?

Not that it mattered. It wouldn't be long. He could feel the cold setting in. He wouldn't have long to wait. And the good news was that it didn't hurt anymore. Soon he wouldn't be here. Soon he could rest. And she was safe. He had seen her go.

A white-booted toe kicked him sharply in his wounded side. Now that did hurt. But he couldn't protest, he couldn't strike back, he couldn't even open his eyes. All he managed was a wince and a quiet groan. And then a loud voice cut through his consciousness.

"Sir! This one's still alive!"

He heard other footsteps and other voices. Wait, he recognized that voice, the one talking now, from long ago.

"Oh, Yes. He served under me."

He felt a rough pair of hands grab him and pull him upright. Then they started to drag him. He began to wish that shot had killed him, and knew that, very soon, he would come regret that it hadn't.

"What's his name, Sir?"

"Han Solo. Oh, I've waited years for this."