Chapter Four
Luke's aunt and uncle would never have called him patient. There was always someplace else he wanted to be, something else he should be doing. But he had been working on this trait since joining the Rebellion. Tried to take Ben's lessons to heart and let the Force flow through him rather than rush for everything at once. But all lessons and effort were out the window when it came to Threepio. That droid would drive a Jedi Master to the dark side.
Though perhaps it wasn't patience Luke needed so much as the ability to run interference so Han didn't tear Threepio apart limb from limb.
"You've got two seconds to get him off my ship, Kid." Han held a hydrospanner close to Luke's face. It wasn't quite as menacing a gesture as Han intended but Luke wasn't going to argue the point.
"Nothing I can do." Luke held his hands up in surrender. "It's Leia's mission and she wants Threepio to come along."
"Why does she think she's in charge of my ship?" Han threw the tool back in a crate and took off his leather gloves. He was practically muttering. "They're barely even paying me for this one."
"Maybe you could consider it a good will gesture? Earn some chips to cash in later."
"Never gonna be enough to make up for that shiny talkbot on my ship."
Han headed to the cockpit to start the take-off sequence as Leia walked on board. She watched him walk down the small corridor before turning to Luke.
"I take it he wasn't happy about the Threepio news?" She couldn't stop her small smile. Leia knew she shouldn't enjoy getting under the Captain's skin so much but it was hard to resist at times.
"Princess Leia." The droid in question tottered in from the ring corridor. "I was explaining to Captain Solo that the shield extenders he just attached are considered illegal in most systems and he will need to declare them to Generals Rieekan and Madine."
Leia shook her head. "This is information that I don't want. I agree with Captain Solo. Let's forget we had this conversation."
They had all agreed it was best to simply not know the full extent of the Falcon's modifications. Han and Chewbacca were always improving or enhancing various things on the freighter and then repairing said improvements or whatever confusion said improvements caused in the ship's inner workings. Leia, and the rest of High Command, knew anything that increased the speed, weaponry or security on the Falcon worked to the Rebellion's advantage so they chose ignorance. Leia knew the ship was a hunk of junk but it was also the fastest ship in the galaxy and a very useful tool in their cause.
"I'm afraid that the conversation is already in my database. All conversations and new information are catalogued and…"
The droid had a lot more to add but Leia cut in. "It's going to be a long journey, Threepio, and we'll then need you at your best when translating at the negotiations table. Perhaps you should power down and recharge so you're ready?"
"That is an excellent idea, your Highness. I appreciate your consideration."
As the droid left to hook itself up at the recharging station, Luke looked at Leia.
"I am in awe of your powers." He gave her a small bow.
"You don't need Jedi mind tricks when you know how to soothe even the most aggravating of beings."
"Maybe you should try that on Han sometime."
"I'm a master negotiator not a miracle worker."
They shared an easy and comfortable laugh. It was their way. There was so little artifice or armor in their relationship, especially since Luke had mostly abandoned his crush. He still put her on a bit of pedestal, still a bit in awe of her, but Leia could relax around him. For the most part anyway.
It wasn't perfect. If she did have a moment and snapped out a sarcastic or rude comment at Luke, Leia felt guilty. Luke usually looked stunned. Confused. He often apologized when it wasn't his fault. It wasn't like it was with Han. If she snapped at him, he snapped back. Han definitely didn't have her on a pedestal.
Luke and Leia took up their usual spots in the cockpit behind the pilots. They strapped in as Han and Chewie went through the start-up sequence and the Falcon lifted off.
"Should that light be on?" Luke pointed to a button on the console flashing red.
"Don't worry about it." Han didn't bother turning around.
Chewie gave a rather long-winded growl in reply that Han followed up with a quick scowl.
"Hang on, did you say something about a fuel leak?" There was no way to mask the concern in her voice. This was not the news she wanted to hear before leaving on a mission.
This time, Han offered Leia the scowl. "He didn't say anything about fuel, Princess. Don't get your panties in a knot."
"But he did say leak." Luke smiled. His Shyriiwook was definitely improving. "Bit lost on the other part, though. Compressor? Seal? Wait, that doesn't sound good either."
"Thanks Pal." Han glared at his co-pilot. "Way to get the passengers riled up." He looked back at Luke. "It's a seal on an internal vent. We opened it up to get at shields we just upgraded. No harm. Easy fix once we make the jump. Good enough for you?"
Luke nodded, still smiling and pleased with himself.
Han turned away from the controls long enough to nod at Leia. "Looks like the Kid is beating you in the Shyriiwook game. Gonna have to catch up, Princess."
Han laughed at Leia's glare before turning back to the console.
They were headed to Mosep to negotiate for weapons with a low-level arms dealer. Leia wanted Luke at the table because the Mosepi were nervous about the deal and Luke could be a calming force. Opposed to Han who was often too ready for the double cross and on edge. The plan was to decide on a price then load up the Falcon as quickly as possible. There was a small window between Imperial maneuvers in that region and they couldn't waste any time.
It came as a surprise to no one that the mission didn't go exactly as planned. Someone on the Mosepi team decided the real money was in the Empire's bounty for all four of them. They waited until the Rebels were about to load the crates on to the freighter and the other Mosepi guards had stepped back into the compound to make their move. The one consolation was the other Mosepi seemed just as surprised and took some time to respond and decide which side they should be on.
Thankfully, Han and Chewie were ready and quickly sprang into action. Han took out the guard trying to pull in Leia as Luke got another. They communicated by gestures and signals, letting each other know when they were covered and when they should run. No matter where anyone was, they knew someone had their back. They cleared the tarmac and got to the Falcon without injury. Chewie was already on board, having pulled the crates of weapons in while the others kept the Mosepi back.
They actually made it off-planet faster than expected, thanks to the rush of that escapade, and were out of atmosphere before the wannabe Mosepi bounty hunters had a chance to follow. All four of them were exhilarated, high on adrenaline and endorphins, pleased with the well-oiled machine they had become on missions. Only Threepio, who was already onboard when the shooting started, was in a full-on panic and took quite some time to calm down.
They made two hyperjumps, ensuring no one was on their tail, then paused so Leia could connect with High Command. They needed the coordinates to rendezvous with another ship and transfer the weapons. Leia sat in the pilot's chair as she placed the call over a secure channel and was surprised when Chancellor Mon Mothma answered.
"Your Highness." Mothma gave a deep nod, almost a bow, that made Leia feel slightly uncomfortable. "We haven't spoken in quite some time so I wanted to take this opportunity to connect."
Leia nodded politely. She started off with the most pertinent information, that they acquired the weapons for a good price, then relayed the sudden turn of events and narrow escape. She almost breezed over these details—the mission was successful, they were all fine—but Mothma's expression turned stern.
"This was supposed to be a simple exchange." The Chancellor's voice was gentle, almost soft, but carried weight and only a fool would take her for a push over. "I'm disturbed by how often you seem to be in the line of fire."
"One of the hazards of being at war, I imagine." Leia's voice was calm, composed, and no one would mistake her demeaner for gentle or soft either.
"I think it's time we re-examined your role and participation in this war, your Highness. We all certainly appreciate the work you've done, and that you've been more than willing to place yourself in the same danger we ask of our troops, but you've made your point. It has been the better part of a year and it's time you removed yourself from the fray and returned to more high-level activities."
Leia had a moment of stunned silence. She felt like she was finally making a consistent and significant impact on the war effort. It's true, having a small job go sour was a reminder that nothing in war was safe but it was still a successful mission. They got what they needed.
Perhaps Mon, as she moved from one location to another avoiding detection and conflict, couldn't see or understand what Leia was doing or what they were all accomplishing. Leia understood the importance of Mon's work and they all relied on her leadership but Leia needed to be in the fight. Sitting in houses and board rooms and watching the action on tactical boards and computer screens didn't cut it. It wasn't a matter of choosing negotiations or firing a blaster. Leia could do both.
"I appreciate your concern, Mon, but I have no intention of taking refuge for the rest of the war. I am here to fight by whatever means necessary."
"Take your father as an example. It wasn't a matter of leaving the fighting to others as much as knowing where one could best serve. This is not where he would want you to be. He knew the underground networks well because he helped establish many of them and, most importantly, he wanted you safe."
"That is true. He wanted me safe and in a free and democratic galaxy."
Mon tried not to show her frustration but Leia could see flashes of anger across the older woman's face.
"Unfortunately, that free and democratic society is likely some ways away. We all understand how much you want to be involved but you, your status and your heritage, carry far too much weight. We need to consider how best to put your talents and connections to use."
"Meaning?"
"I don't need to remind you that as the last Princess of Alderaan you have connections that could well serve the Rebellion. You command respect in ways that most of us, including seasoned politicians, cannot. I know you are preoccupied with discovering your father's lost funding sources but perhaps it is time we looked elsewhere. There are more alliances to be forged."
"Are you suggesting marrying me off to the highest bidder?" Leia crossed her arms over her chest. She recognized that her body language might be read as petulant but that wasn't her top concern.
"Don't be crass, Leia." It was rare for Mon Mothma to snap and Leia took note of it. "We have no such intention. I am being pragmatic, not barbaric."
"I'm not removing myself from the negotiation table or any, as you put it, high-level activity but I am also not going to retreat to the assumed safety of hidden fortresses. I will continue to make a difference in the best way I know how and that means with the other beings fighting and risking their lives to build a better galaxy."
"No one expects this of you, Leia. No one will think less of you for not being on the front lines. Your parents certainly never thought you would spend so much time dodging blaster fire and having so many close calls and near escapes."
"My father sent me on the mission that landed me on the Death Star and facing execution."
"I feel confident that if he had any inkling that you would be in that level of danger, he wouldn't have done so. I'm certain of that. He was sending you to Tatooine to contact Obi-wan Kenobi and didn't expect the Empire to overtake your ship."
"He knew the risks and trusted me to know what to do."
Leia spoke with confidence but she didn't know if this was true. Bail provided very little information when he sent her off on her mission. She knew General Kenobi served in the Clone Wars and that he was one of the few remaining, if not last, Jedis. Beyond that, her instructions were to bring him to Alderaan and then more would be revealed. She assumed.
But then it was sheer pandemonium and she had to make a lot of quick decisions. Suddenly, she had the plans for the Death Star and the stormtroopers were about to board her ship. Her plan was half-cocked, rushed, but somehow worked out. Luke found the droids, then Kenobi, then Han and Chewie, then her. None of it made sense when she saw it laid out in front of her and, yet, they were all still here.
"Even Pyrtor worries about your safety."
"Pyrtor? How would you know his opinion on this matter?" Leia sat up straight in the pilot's chair. She stuck out her chin out in a sign of defiance.
Mon Mothma sighed, realizing she misspoke and didn't play the card as intended. "General Dodonna and Pyrtor have connected on a number of issues over the years, even before the war. Thyre Industries has long been established on Commenor and Pyrtor's father and Jan are old colleagues."
"That still doesn't explain how you have this information. How are they in contact and how often?"
"They aren't pen pals Leia. They've communicated occasionally. Pyrtor is a trusted informant, is he not?
"Then perhaps Jan and Pyrtor should be the ones meeting up."
Leia wondered just how much Mon or Dodonna knew about her arrangement with Pyrtor. Were they keeping tabs on her? Did they know she had recently refused Pyrtor's request for a meeting? She told him she was needed on an important mission, which was true and now they had a new cache of weapons. Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that Mon picked up the call when she did.
"I was under the impression there was something more to your relationship with Pyrtor than the exchange of information."
Leia had to look away for a moment to calm herself. "Be that as it may, I don't appreciate knowing that this conversation was going on behind my back or that I wasn't made aware of the extent of their connections in this matter."
She took deep breaths to calm her heart rate. She felt like she was fifteen years old and arguing with her aunts about what was appropriate behaviour. They chastised her for talking to the wrong people or talking to one person for too long. For crossing her arms or placing hands on her hips in public. Anything that made her look closed off or too reserved. Hugging someone instead of a polite handshake or laughing too loud at a joke. Anything that made her look too available or open.
Alderaan expects more of you, Leia. You must make us all proud.
Leia had argued her position, claimed her aunts' ways was out of date, refused to cower to social mores or pretend to be someone she was not. But she did what she was told. She always did her best to make her parents proud. It was only since going underground that she could feel a new Leia emerging and she was alternately excited and guilt-ridden.
Leia straightened her spine, lifted chin to face Mon Mothma's projected image directly. "And I would appreciate it if my personal life wasn't up for discussion with High Command."
Mon Mothma wasn't one to roll her eyes but she looked like she was tempted.
"Your Highness, please allow me to be blunt. Your personal life is not my concern."
Leia felt very young, scrutinized, and she did her best to refrain from squirming in the chair.
"I apologize if you feel slighted, your Highness, but the fact remains that this is matter of politics and war. If you want to be made aware of the extent of the connections, as you refer to it, then you should return to the main conversation of Alliance High Command and remove yourself from the field."
Leia lost the battle with herself. "This is bullshit, Mon, and you know it."
Leia wasn't sure if Mon was stunned into silence or if there was a glitch in the transmission as the Chancellor's image froze. She assumed it was likely the former as Mon's face, when she finally spoke, was hard and determined.
"I would remind you, your Highness." This time, your highness didn't carry its usual tone of reverence and respect. "Your position in government, your royal house and the Rebel Alliance demands civility and proper decorum. I would appreciate that you offer me the same respect that I offer you."
Leia felt some shame at so quickly expressing her anger. She was about to apologize when Mon continued.
"I suspect the attitudes and mannerisms of certain Alliance members are rubbing off on you, and I, for one, am not pleased with this turn of events."
Leia made a note to herself to never mention to Han that Mon Mothma thinks he's rubbing her in any fashion.
She likened Han working with the Rebellion to a gundark running through the Senate. He didn't know how to make a point that didn't offend or annoy. He clearly thought it a job well-done if everyone involved felt off kilter or confused.
It was no secret that she and Han could fight with such intensity they were lucky no one lost an eye but she couldn't blame it all on him. Immediately following the Death Star, her mood could best be described as mercurial. Medics, and most of High Command, insisted she was in shock but she denied it at every turn. She tamped down her emotions so well that only the most virulent could escape. Her anger felt tangible, productive, an emotion she could use. It pushed her forward when planning missions, attacking the Empire's factories, ships, strong holds.
Unfortunately, her targets weren't always so precise. She told herself, repeatedly, that she wasn't bothered by the divide between her and the other rebels. She was fine with that, for the most part. She was used to the separation. She may have been the People's Princess but she wasn't of the people. She was always the other, removed, elite. But there were times when she pushed things too far. When it was hard to keep things in perspective.
Like when Wes Janson, a new recruit, claimed Darth Vader would be the perfect costume for a masquerade and too many people in the hanger laughed. There was a part of Leia that understood it was a joke and that people often needed dark humour to get through difficult times but she couldn't apply that logic to the situation. She could only react, poorly, by calmly and sternly questioning Janson's motivations.
What else did he think was funny? How exactly would one dress up as a genocidal maniac? Did torture and tyranny make him chuckle?
Janson was only able to respond yes ma'am and no ma'am and occasionally yes, sir, as his face got redder and redder. The old Leia would have noticed and adjusted accordingly but the only a few weeks past the Death Star Leia was feeding on his energy. The more nervous he became the more righteous and condescending she became.
Luke, as always, tried to run interference. He stood next to her. Said Janson didn't mean anything by it. He was sure Janson was sorry about it. She ignored Luke. She didn't look at him and his voice barely registered for her.
It was Han, standing to the side, leaning against a wall with arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankle, who pulled her out of it. Told her to give Janson a break. It was a dumb joke but that's all it was. She accused Han of being cavalier. He accused her of being a bitch. And then all her energy was focused on him. They argued as everyone else slipped away, removing themselves from the line of fire.
Eventually, she stormed off, determined to have nothing to do with the arrogant smuggler, vowing to find another pilot for supply runs and missions.
She also remembered later that night, after she made a heartfelt apology to Janson, as she sat in a meeting room, working through whatever files she thought might sufficiently distract her, Han showed up with a cup of tea for her. Neither of them apologized and he didn't say outright that it was a peace offering but they both understood. It was one of the first times they spent hours together in silence and didn't question the space they had carved out.
"Thank you for sharing your opinions with me, Chancellor Mothma." Leia laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the Falcon's console. "I will submit my mission report to General Rieekan when I return to base. You should be happy to know we were able to secure twice the number of blasters than originally planned, and several dozen more detonators. I'm sure there is enough to distribute among several bases and will be a great asset to the cause. Now, if you must excuse me, there is work to be done."
Leia had to wait a few moments after signing off to collect herself. She needed her heart rate to slow down, the flush to leave her cheeks. If she went out into the lounge now, she would rant and rave against High Command. She needed calm. She wanted calm.
There was a rap on the cockpit hatch followed by "Princess, you finished?"
Han opened the door and leaned against the frame. He gave her a quick once over, a check to make sure she was okay. Leia wondered how long he was standing outside the hatch.
"We need to get at the next jump. We're easy pickings just floating around space like this."
She nodded and moved out of the way as Han and Chewie took their places.
Leia stayed with them as they plotted the coordinates and made the jump. It was something she truly enjoyed, at least when they could do so in a leisurely fashion rather than racing against time. The two pilots worked together in calm confidence and she could easily lose herself in their choreographed movements followed by the smooth and exhilarating jump. She would never tire of seeing stars streak into hyperspace tendrils.
"The kid's gonna teach us some Rogue's card game." Han turned his chair to face her. "Claims it's sabacc meets Tailspinner's Crib. Sounds like bullshit but whatever. It's a long ride back to base."
The game did seem unnecessarily complicated. Even Luke, who claimed to know what he was doing, couldn't remember the betting scheme or how to tally all the points. So they changed the rules midway through and argued about whether or not they could change them again.
"Someone should have written this down." Luke laid cards on the table as he, in theory, added up his final tally. "I thought the knave was worth ten points?"
"Only the black." Han reordered Luke's cards by his own calculations.
"Black knave is worth ten, red is worth fifteen, green is minus ten and white minus fifteen." Leia didn't look up from her cards as she spoke and didn't bother looking at Luke's. She was that certain her count would be higher.
"You need to count the bank." Han indicated the upturned card on the deck. "And that takes you down to negative six."
"Someone really should have written these rules down." Luke tossed his cards on the table in defeat. "I really feel like I'm being swindled here."
"Your go, Princess."
She eyed both of them as she slowly rearranged her cards for full effect.
"Little too much drama, Sweetheart. Never gonna make up for poor cards."
[We only have brown rations. We need to stock up.] Chewbacca arrived at the table carrying several bowls. He sat beside Leia and distributed the food. [How much longer for this made-up game?]
"The Princess thinks she's about to clear us all out." Han gave her a smirk. "Feeling confident enough to bet?"
"Wait, did we decide to bet anything?" Luke pulled his bowl closer. "I don't remember agreeing to anything."
"Very convenient that the person with the lowest score suddenly has betting amnesia." Leia gave him a side-eye.
"I just want to be clear that I didn't agree to any bets."
"I seem to recall mention of doing night watch for a week." She held her cards in her hand and placed them face down on the table.
"You were pretty clear about it, Kid. Said you could do it easy."
"I could do it easy but I'm not going to do it and I definitely didn't bet it."
"What are you putting up, Captain?" She eyed Han next. "You don't have night watch so that one means nothing to you."
"What you aiming for? Name your price." He leaned across the table toward her.
She stared at him for a few moments. Long enough that his smirk turned to a lop-sided grin.
"Flying lessons."
"What? For a lousy made-up card game? You want to fly the Falcon."
"You asked my price."
It was his turn to stare her down and Leia's expression didn't falter while she waited.
"Fine. Deal." He shook his head at her.
"And your bet?"
"I give you flying lessons and you have to do exactly what I tell you."
"Why does that sound so ominous?" Leia laughed despite her attempt to remain stern.
"I have some unconventional training methods."
"Think this one through, Leia." Luke stirred the rations in his bowl. "Not sure it's worth it."
[I can accompany you, Princess, if you need a guard.]
"Alright, alright. 'Preciate the support, friends."
Leia considered her options and what he could possibly have in mind. He was willing to give her the same thing she wanted but with a possible side game. She knew she wouldn't be in actual danger and the worst that might happen is feeling a bit uncomfortable if he decided it was an opportunity to be lewd. They could certainly get into a fight but even their arguments weren't that intense lately. They seem to have reached a new understanding.
"Deal."
Han gave her a quick nod of his head and Leia laid her cards on the table.
Luke did some quick addition. "Thirty-two. Nice."
"And hard to beat." She gave Han a sly smile, feeling very confident in her victory. Chewie pushed her bowl of rations to her and she started eating while still maintaining her almost gleeful gaze. "Mmmm. Brown."
There was very little appetizing about the food rations the Rebels were served but they tried to make the best of it. Usually. The cooks claimed the rations had different flavors. Claimed they contained various kinds of meat and vegetables. Spices. But they all tasted pretty much the same so the four of them distinguished the rations by color. Brown. Off-white. Greenish. Purple. Blue. Luke said he had a particular fondness for the beige rations but no one believed him.
Leia thought back on her conversation with Mon Mothma. It was only a few hours earlier but felt like days. She almost didn't feel like the same person who was scolded for her participation, told she didn't belong. Now she was sitting with friends, enjoying a made-up card game and eating terrible food that was almost palatable because of inside jokes and familiarity.
Han added a considerable amount of hot sauce to his bowl then laid his cards down one at a time. He gave them all a moment to count them then moved the top card from the bank beside his.
"Huh." Luke gave a slow nod. "Thirty-three."
"I don't believe it." Leia couldn't stop the release of a long sigh and dropped her head in a hand.
"Looks like we're going to have a good time on your next boyfriend excursion." Han dug into his rations, a little too enthusiastically for Leia's taste. "Hope I don't wear you out before you get to Tech Boy."
"You're impossible."
They finished their brown rations then Leia returned to her datapad and Han and Chewie went back to their repairs and Luke used the remote to practice with his lightsaber. They followed their patterns, relaxed in their routines, knowing everyone else was where they expected them to be. Leia recognized the sensation she thought was lost for good; feeling grounded even though there were no anchors in sight.
