"Sir, all the patrols are in. There's still no contact from Skywalker or Solo."

She pretended not to hear their whispers, their desire to protect her feelings. How was it possible that such casual acquaintances could know the depth of those feelings when she had hidden them so carefully from herself? All she could do was to pace and stare at that open door, silently reciting every prayer she knew in the hope that Han and Luke would come bursting in like little boys at play.

Threepio had arrived without her notice and was prattling on, trying to be helpful. "Mistress Leia, Artoo says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope."

"Your Highness," said the kindly voice of Major Derlin. "There's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed."

Though she nodded her accession, she could not bring herself to add a spoken order of confirmation. It was too much like signing the death sentence of the two men she had come to love most in this world.

"Close the doors," the major ordered.

"Yes, sir."

The machinery roared to life, grinding and clanging as the large metallic doors inched closer and closer together. She did love them, she realized with stunning clarity. Luke was so easy to love—they shared idealism, a commitment to a cause, and a special connection that made communication effortless. They should have been perfect for each other, and yet she could only seem to love him in a brotherly kind of way. Her love for Han was much more complex, much more exciting, and completely exasperating. Could the universe be so cruel that she would lose both of them now?

Seemingly in answer to her unspoken question, Threepio added, "Artoo says the chances of survival are seven hundred twenty-five...to one."

The slamming of the doors echoed through the cabin with an ominous finality, Chewbacca's anguished howl punctuating the hopelessness of the moment. Leia's chest tightened in pain as she registered Threepio's words. She had lost them…she had lost him.

Seeing the distress on Leia's face, Threepio experienced a rare flash of insight and tried to soften the blow. "Actually, Artoo has been known to make mistakes...from time to time. Oh, dear, oh, dear."

Summoning every last bit of courage she possessed, Leia moved to leave, her practiced façade fully in place. She would not allow the troops to see their leader in tears. They had all lost so much…revealing that she had lost hope as well would only weaken the dangerously low morale of the troops.

On the way out, she paused briefly to touch Chewbacca's arm. Chewie turned to her then, holding her gaze and communicating a sense of strength through his despair. The kindness and sympathy in his gaze was almost more than she could bear, and Leia could only manage a weak smile in response before quickly striding from the hangar.

She wandered through the halls of the complex in auto pilot mode. She answered questions when spoken to and even managed to smile on a couple of occasions, yet she would remember nothing of her journey to her quarters. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she passed the entrance to her room at least twice before stopping to punch in her access code.

She didn't even bother to turn on the lights. As soon as the portal closed behind her, she began sobbing uncontrollably. Her body cramped in pain and fear, and she barely made it to her bed before collapsing. She remained locked in a fetal position some time, weeping for this loss and for all the others she had experienced. She had never felt so profoundly, achingly alone.

As the tears slowly began to subside, she became more aware of her surroundings. She felt…frozen…and wet. Surely, she couldn't have cried enough to have flooded the bed.

Turning on the lights, she realized that something must have gone wrong with the temperature in the room. Her clothes were hanging up to be dried, as were the sheets and comforters. C-3PO! This was definitely his handiwork!

Suddenly angry, Leia pulled the clothes down and threw them about the room. She pounded the soaked bed with her fists, wondering what else could possibly go wrong. When her thoughts turned suicidal for a fleeting moment, Leia came quickly to her senses. She had to get out of here and do something before she completely lost her mind.

Grabbing some casual clothes that had survived the deluge, Leia headed for the refresher. She would find a way to get through this, she thought with characteristic determination. Han and Luke will come out of this alive...they are too stubborn to do otherwise. Suddenly, she did not feel quite so alone.

General Rieekan was worried. Two of his best men were trapped in that hell frozen over, and he was powerless to help them. If only he had access to some of the Empire's technology! This rebel operation was held together by what amounted to string and super glue. They didn't even have the parts necessary to adapt the speeders to the cold, so his engineers had to build the equipment out of the available supplies. It killed him to think that Solo and Skywalker might die because Malad had failed to secure that shipment a few months ago.

At least he could make sure that Malad would never hurt anyone again. He issued an order preventing ships from leaving the system and assigned a man to keep a covert watch on Malad's activities. With a little luck, he would still have a chance to destroy Malad's operation. If not, he could at least arrest the scumbag and prevent him from causing any more damage.

Of course, if the princess found out that Malad was responsible for the lost shipment, he might never make it to trial. For her own protection, Rieekan decided to withhold that piece of information from her. He would finish his work here, check on her, and then head to the hangar to oversee the speeder refit. He loved that girl, and he wanted to make sure that she would never have to experience another agonizing loss. He prayed that Solo and Skywalker could hang on for just a few more hours…for all of their sakes.

Malad was barely able to contain his glee when he learned that the meddlesome Solo and the obnoxious do-gooder Skywalker were lost in the frozen wilds of Hoth. Aware of his precarious position, however, he played the game, feigning concern over the almost certain loss of the Alliance heroes. He affected his most solemn demeanor in asking for the latest news about the missing men and swapped a few stories about their escapades with some of the other officers. It sickened him to say anything nice about Solo, but if it made his escape easier, so be it. After a respectable amount of time, he left the mess hall and walked to his private office to plan his next move.

How lucky could a man be? he thought. His spice shipment had been sent without detection, and his most annoying foes were lost in the snow. With the base focused on the search, he might even be able to leave earlier than he had planned. It amused him to think that he would be sunning himself on a resort beach while Alliance personnel were recovering the icicle remains of Solo and Skywalker.

He carefully scanned base records, looking for a ship that he could access easily. He had just found a promising option when the base loudspeaker roared to life: "Attention all personnel. General Rieekan has issued an order that no ships are to leave the system until the energy shield becomes fully operational. Affected personnel should report to their CO for new duty assignments."

"Kreth," he muttered. "What does that idiot Rieekan think he's doing? His bumbling will allow the Empire will find the rebels eventually. Why make one good move now and ruin my plans in the process?" Turning back to his console, he noticed that someone had attempted to limit his access while making it seem as though he still had full command of the system.

"So, you're on to me, eh, Rieekan? Maybe you're smarter than I thought. Too bad your man did such a clumsy job."

Laughing to himself, he used the back door he had built into the system and programmed the computer to disable the sensors at the appropriate time. He figured the general would assign a spy to watch his every move, so he added a little something extra to the programming. They'll never even realize I'm gone!


Though her emotions were held in check at the moment, Leia's control was tenuous at best. Not accustomed to such strong outbursts of emotion, she decided that a strenuous workout was the best way to regain her focus. She would be unable to help Han and Luke until she could think clearly and command with a purpose.

As she walked to the base gym, she tried desperately to bring her chaotic thoughts into order. Throughout her life, she had always managed to maintain an even keel…at least until she met Han Solo. Though she had always been passionate about her causes, that passion had been harnessed and directed by her iron will and diplomatic training. She did not get flustered, and she did not allow others to use her feelings against her.

Han took a completely different approach with her, however. A self-reliant scoundrel with a massive ego, Solo showed no respect for her at all. He challenged her from day one, causing her to question herself for the first time. Actually, if she were being truthful, Han probably had given her more true respect than anyone ever had before (except perhaps her parents). Most other people treated her as either a superior or inferior, giving her a decided advantage. Her oratory easily swayed those dazzled by her title or convictions. Conversely, opponents who underestimated her abilities because of her age or stature were quickly overwhelmed by her work ethic and determination to prove them wrong.

Han treated her like an equal, and that was the one tactic for which she had no defense. He exploited her weaknesses, challenged her perspective, and unleashed her feelings. With most people, arguments were an intellectual chess match. With Han, arguments were emotional and losses were personal. Her lack of control around him scared her, yet it secretly thrilled her as well. She had never been as alive as she had been in these past couple of years. What would she do if she lost that…lost him?

She shook her head fervently, trying to dismiss those negative thoughts. He would come back to her…they both would. How could I have forgotten about Luke? Leia felt a strong pang of guilt because her thoughts had been focused solely on losing Han. How could she have been so callous as to forget that her other friend was in danger as well? Perhaps it was because she was sure that Luke knew how she felt. Their relationship was so easy, so open. Luke's schoolboy crush was a challenge at times, but she still felt completely comfortable in his presence and shared affection openly.

With Han, however, most of their time was spent in a ridiculous contest of wills. Their last encounter had held true to form, ending in yet another argument. Han tried to get her to open up about her feelings, and she had denied them outright. Why couldn't she have told him how important he was to her? Why couldn't she have asked him to stay?

Her arrival at the gym gave her a reprieve, keeping her from delving into that subject too deeply. As she entered the training area, the activity in the room came to a halt. Leia felt the force of those sympathetic stares and raised her head high. Though the silence was almost overwhelming, she felt that she had a duty to convey confidence and strength. She walked with a purpose toward the women's locker room, grabbing the boxing gloves and music disc from her locker. She then headed for the secluded workout area at the back of the gym, thankful to finally be able to close the door against the weight of those eyes upon her.

Leia turned on the music and began her warm-up routine. She tapped the bag lightly, preparing her muscles with the light exertion. As the music changed tempo, she began to hit the bag with more authority. As was her custom, she pretended the bag was a particular enemy. Sometimes she attacked pompous bureaucrats, sometimes an intractable supplier, and sometimes the minions of the Empire itself.

Today, her target was the cold…the cold fear in her heart, the cold reality of the steel doors closing, and the cold climate that threatened to take away people she loved. With each blow, she believed she was knocking back the freezing winds. In her mind's eye, she could see Han and Luke shivering in a makeshift shelter. She attacked the temperature with ferocity, whipping each atom of their environment into a frenzy and offering protection to her friends. As sweat poured from her body, the bag strained against the force of her attack. There was no music, there was no gym…there was only Leia against the cold.

As the cold's resistance to her blows lessened, she could see a bloodied Luke before her. She concentrated on his pain, battling it with the same intensity as she had the temperature. As his pain seemed to lessen, her attention focused on Han. He was freezing and miserable, but he was healthy. Her heart was filled with joy as she imagined him grinning at her with that lopsided half smile of his. I have to talk to him before it's too late. I have to tell him that….

At that moment, Leia felt a tap on her shoulder. She swung around quickly and came within centimeters of punching General Rieekan square in the face. "General," she said, straightening to a semblance of attention. "I'm sorry…I…."

"Don't worry about it, Leia," the general said, cutting off her apology. "Are you okay? I was worried when you didn't respond to your name being called."

"I'm fine. I was just concentrating on…my workout. Do you have news?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid there's been no further contact with Solo or Skywalker." At Leia's dejected look, Rieekan hastily added, "We're making progress on the speeder refit, but I thought you might like to help supervise. The sooner we can get those speeders out there…."

"The sooner we can find them," she added, finishing his sentence. "I'll finish up here and meet you there as quickly as I can. Thanks for checking up on me."

"Of course," he said, smiling warmly. "I'm glad to see you still have your fighting spirit. I'll see you in the hangar."

"See you there. Thank you, General."

After Rieekan left, Leia performed a quick cool down and headed for the 'fresher. She was exhausted, but she was determined to bring her friends home safely. She would worry about words and feelings later…when both of the men she loved were safe.

Han Solo was convinced that ice chunks were forming in his veins. He could feel the blood slowly slogging through his system, and he wondered briefly what it would be like to freeze to death. He had never been this cold before, even during academy survival training when he and his buddies had been left in the frozen wilderness to fend for themselves. Luckily the Empire wasn't sadistic enough to choose a place such a Hoth for their exercises.

In the past couple of hours, Han had managed to set up the shelter and drag Luke inside, but his movements were slow and increasingly more painful. He had tended to Luke's wounds using the pathetic excuse for a med kit, but the kid did not seem to be responding well to treatment. Luke slept fitfully, thrashing about and occasionally mumbling nonsensical words such as "Dagobah" and "Yoda." To make matters worse, the Alliance-issued emergency heater was malfunctioning. Han was sure that he could fix it eventually, but his thick gloves and stiff joints made repairs difficult.

As he was struggling with the power generator in the heating unit, Han heard Luke moan loudly. Deeply concerned for his friend's health, he stopped his repair effort to tend to Luke's wounds. He reapplied some synthflesh to gaping holes opened by the ice creature, and he administered a hypo of pain medication. Luke seemed to settle down a bit after receiving the injection, but his uncontrollable shivering indicated that he needed warmth soon. Han just hoped he could work fast enough to save the young man who had become like a little brother to him.

Out of sheer frustration, Han kicked the recalcitrant heating unit. The Falcon might have responded to such tender loving care, but the heater remained stoic, refusing to give in to the famous Solo charm. Han never thought he'd say this, but Tatooine was starting to look like a pretty good option. The heat of the planet would chase the ice from his system, and he could finally pay off his debt to Jabba and recover his freedom one way or another. Sure, he'd have a hard time getting the Hutt to see things his way, but with a little luck, he might be able to return to Leia.

Leia! The thought of her made him feel just a bit warmer, but he was also filled with a sense of despair that seemed to emanate from elsewhere. Leia would be devastated by the seeming loss of her friends. She might play the role of Ice Princess with ease, but Han had been privileged to see the warm and tender soul underneath her businesslike exterior. As with any crisis, she would bury the pain and put on a façade of strength for the world to see. Han just hoped that Chewie and Rieekan were there to lend her support. She would never accept help, of course, but knowing that she had someone in her corner would help fortify her resolve. I'm okay, Sweetheart, he said to her silently. We're both still alive.

If he wanted to keep them alive, however, he knew he had to refocus his attention. He made a few adjustments to the unit and turned on the power. The heater remained inactive, mocking Solo with its refusal to function. It took every ounce of restraint Solo possessed not to smash the unit into a million pieces. Instead, he carefully removed the outer covering of the machine and thoroughly rechecked the equipment. He finally found the source of the problem--a tiny mechanism that had broken off from its moorings. With his normal dexterity intact, Han could have fixed the part in a minute. His limited range of motion made the work excruciatingly difficult.

After fumbling with the equipment for ten minutes, Han was almost ready to quit. He checked his emergency supply kit to see if it contained any hand warmer packets. I guess the Alliance ran out of those too! He blew on his hands and tried to convince his hands to function despite the cold. As he moved back to the unit, however, he suddenly felt warmer. He began to have feeling in his hands again, although it was a stinging, painful kind of feeling. Maybe there is something to that "mind over matter" garbage.

After a few more minutes, he was feeling warm enough to remove his gloves. He quickly repaired the faulty mechanism and repositioned it securely within the unit. He performed a systems check on the heater and replaced the cover. Within seconds, the little heater was humming contentedly, bringing warmth to the tiny shelter.

With the heating problem finally solved, Han turned to check on his friend. Luke was still shivering and did not seem to be responding well to the previous treatment. Han checked the med kit, but he found nothing that would help the young pilot. Han knew that he had to get Luke warmed up, so he moved the heater closer, and he settled in behind him. "C'mon kid. Just a few more hours, and we can get you all fixed up."

With no more survival tasks to keep him occupied, Han's mind drifted back to thoughts of Leia. That stupid fight! He hated to think that their last words to each other would be filled with anger, and he hated himself for starting that argument in the first place. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he had been filled with an overwhelming need to know how she felt about him. It hurt him to think that she didn't even care that he was leaving, so he provoked her into a reaction.

Her response wasn't all too surprising. As was typical of their verbal sparring sessions, Han had taunted her, and she had responded with an angry, cutting retort. Unlike their previous battles, however, her anger seemed to stem from sadness, fear, and confusion rather than annoyance and frustration. Of course she's confused, you idiot! She doesn't remember what happened on Ord Mantell, and you wouldn't tell her what really happened.

His thoughts returned to their all-too-brief time together on the fated mission—their brutal arguments, their banter, the electricity generated by the mere brush of their fingertips. They had both tried so hard to fight the attraction, to protect themselves against the rejection that surely would occur. Is that what I'm doing now? Rieekan's words came back to haunt him: Son, I know you're trying to look out for Leia's best interests, but I also think you're acting out of fear. She's a princess, and you're a smuggler. No matter what happened between you two on Ord Mantell, you've got to be wondering whether or not she'd publicly pursue a relationship with you. Don't underestimate her character, Solo.

Han knew that he would do anything to protect Leia, to save her from the pain of loss that had almost crushed her when Alderaan was destroyed. He wanted her to experience joy and happiness, even if he wasn't around to give it to her. Her memory loss gave her the best chance at that happiness, especially since Jabba would likely kill him for his transgressions. He wanted desperately to believe he was doing the right thing, yet the whole argument rang painfully false.

He thought of their dance and the way their bodies fit together so perfectly, the way they healed their emotional wounds through the simple power of touch. He remembered the heart stopping moment her lips brushed against his, the glory, passion, and wonder of love's first kiss. He shivered, both at the power of the memory and at the realization that the cold had returned to the tiny shelter with a vengeance.

He checked on Luke and was relieved to find him resting peacefully. He reapplied some bacta ointment to Luke's wounds and then turned his attention to the heating unit. With a few minor adjustments, he was able to increase the air flow of the unit, raising the temperature of their surroundings slightly. That accomplished, Han looked hopefully at the chrono. "Seven more hours," he said with frustration. Turning to Luke, he said quietly, "Rest up, kid…the docs will take care of you soon."

His chores accomplished, Han returned to his bedroll. Sleep would be a welcome way to pass the next few hours, but he knew that he would be unable to rest. The cold was piercing, attacking him with a thousand tiny pinpricks for daring to challenge its supremacy. To escape this foe, Han retreated inward, cocooning himself in the memory of Leia and Ord Mantell. He relived every moment, painstakingly preserving each encounter for the future he still hoped they would have someday. He was the caretaker of a past she couldn't remember, a past that was real only to him.

He wondered what she felt for him now. Had those feelings survived the loss of memory? She obviously cared for him to some degree because she had followed him out of the command center, trying to convince him to remain with the rebels. He thought about her eyes, the eyes that pleaded with him to stay even as she claimed that her feelings for him were only in his imagination. She still loved him, he was sure of it. However, she was still living according to the old rules of the game, rules established to protect the players against heartbreak. She did not know that he loved her, that she deserved to be loved. She was still driven by fear, shaped by loss.

He thought about how his admission of love on that mountaintop had affected her. At first she became frightened, unable to believe that anyone could love her. However, as she gained confidence in the depth of his love, she began to explore all of the aspects of her personality. No longer was she tied solely to the role of leader, though she retained all of the qualities that made her effective.

She hadn't changed, she was simply more fully herself. She was, by turns, playful, passionate, vulnerable, and risqué. Despite their different backgrounds and personalities, he and Leia were good for each other. He made her happy—he could see it in the smiles she reserved only for him, feel it in her caress. What's more, he had been miserable without her. That's why he kept pulling her toward him, even as he told himself he must push her away for her own protection.

Suddenly, Han was very angry with himself. He couldn't believe that he had wasted all of that precious time with her, especially since he almost lost her to that blaster shot. They were in the middle of a war—no one, not even the princess, was guaranteed a long life. I have to tell her that I love her. She deserves to know.

The speeders could not come fast enough…it was time to make things right.