Some Depth

Leia looked up at the sound of her office hatch opening and then hissing shut. Her eyes were a blurry mess, seeing a colorful haze instead of sharp lines, and she resolved to try and catch a full night's sleep after she finished drawing up these last few contracts. Han was on-base for another week and his presence, physical and emotional, was a balm for her frozen blood and busy brain. Sleep would come quite easily.

Expecting to find Han standing there—cocky and heartbreaking in his victorious amble—she was surprised to see his executive officer, instead. No less heartbreaking, Leia thought with some amused admiration, as the wavy lines solidified into Lieutenant Salla Zend, in all her stubborn glory.

"Princess," she began, and that right there told Leia plenty. Salla rarely called her by her title. "I need a favor."

Leia rolled her eyes in mild exasperation. "What did he do now?"

Her schedule the past few weeks had been full of impromptu meetings just like this one. Having Salla as Han's XO meant that Leia had a kind of official confidante, both of them vexed by a man who was still very important to them despite themselves. Sometimes Salla needed to rail against his antics and sometimes she only needed a listening ear. She rarely took advice, of course, and Leia had stopped offering it unless asked directly.

What Salla seemed to need most, however, was a friend. And while that concept wasn't foreign to Leia, it was odd to find a compatriot in the wild landscape of Han Solo's unique ability to be irritating.

"This isn't about Han," Salla said. "Or, not really about him, anyway. More like… the absence of him. That I need. Now."

Tilting her head, Leia waited for more information.

"Tell him he can't come on my Distributary runs with me anymore."

"I'm not his superior officer. Talk to General Rieekan—"

"Leia. I need you to get him off my back."

"About what?"

Salla's expression remained completely impassive but her eyes told Leia a completely different story. "About Prisht."

"Oh, no," she replied, amused, struggling to hide her smile from the erstwhile smuggler and failing completely. "What has he done now?"

"Talking too much. Being annoying."

At that, Leia laughed outright. "That is pretty much all he does. I think you'd have to kill him to get him to stop."

Salla dropped into the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "I'm game if you are, Highness, but I think you're rather attached to his—"

"Alright, alright," Leia stopped her, waving her away with a hand. "What do you really want me to do?"

Salla took a second to answer, and Leia considered her carefully. She was a tough one to understand. Her motives were always somewhat suspect, not because she was going to do the wrong thing but because there was dark humor in those fire-orange eyes that promised playful revenge. The pranks between the Rogues and Mercs were legendary, of course, but Salla's hidden strength was a sly kind of humiliation, nothing terribly harmful, but a vengeance one definitely didn't see coming until it was too late. After months of working with her, Leia had concluded that one should never, ever cross Salla Zend.

Frankly, it was a skill Leia admired. Through her role and station within the Alliance, she herself had become immune to the pranking. Salla had gotten the same result but without the overwhelming privilege and loss.

"Prisht doesn't like working with him. And, anyway, I should be the only liaison to The Distributary."

"Why?"

"Because Prisht requires a delicate touch."

I bet she does, Leia thought but wisely kept to herself. "Why does Han seem to think he needs to accompany you?"

Leia knew why. She knew. But… well. Maybe Salla wasn't the only one who could be a little devilish in her motives.

"Because he's a dramatic tease and likes to embarrass me."

"That sounds like Wes, not Han."

"Him, too," she said. "And Skywalker. But they aren't the ones cramping my style. Solo is. And it's annoying as hell and I need you to stop him before I shoot him."

Ah, there we are, Leia thought, smiling at Salla's complete irreverence for her commanding officer. "You want him gone so you can have private time with Prisht."

"She can't stand him."

"I honestly can't blame her," Leia noted.

"Exactly." She spread her hands wide. "Use your powers. Make him go with Qiee or Ryian or literally anyone else. Or better yet, order him to stay on-base with you. He'd like that even better."

Leia leaned back in her uncomfortable chair. "That would make two of us. But I'm afraid I'm not going to suggest anything of the sort—"

"For fuck's sake—!"

"—because you need to tell him yourself, Salla," she finished. "Since when do you pull your punches?"

Leia eyed the beautiful woman in front of her: her strength, her softness, her care and intelligence and deeply loyal heart. Those fiery eyes flickered away in a rare show of vulnerability, finally seeming to come to a conclusion. Brows furrowed. Lips pursed.

"I like my job. I like my people. And I like working with him. I even like this lame Alliance and all you goody-goody bleeding hearts."

Leia nodded, encouraging the frank honesty in those words without rising to the obvious bait.

"I don't want things to change."

"Why would they change?"

Salla shrugged. "I can't predict what he will do anymore. He's respectable now. Even has a princess for a girlfriend. I just want things to stay the same and be able to see my… to see Prisht… without him around to make things difficult."

Nodding, Leia let the moment linger, let Salla's words breathe, let her see how unnecessary her concerns actually were. In all honesty, she felt honored to hear these concerns but she also knew the price it would cost her to say the wrong thing. This formidable woman demanded respect. In the end, Salla was going to be the only one who could solve the issue, and so Leia waited.

"This is ridiculous, isn't it?" Salla finally said.

She spoke to the ceiling, head tipped back, arms and legs splayed wide.

"Yes."

"I should just tell him."

"Yes."

"Damn it," she said on an exhale and then stood with her enviable quick, tight energy. "I hate it when you're right."

Leia smiled ruefully. "I know you do."

Salla turned to the hatch, then stopped and looked at Leia over her shoulder. "Don't tell him about this."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Salla nodded, threw out a soft thanks and then was gone before Leia could blink. Sitting in her office, quiet and still, her mind ran through the past few minutes. Realizing she had done very little for Salla but serve as a stand-in for her beloved commander, she smiled, shook her head, and resumed her work on the contracts, thinking that Han Solo might have a good eye for female companions of some depth after all.

Author's Note: Special thanks to AmongstEmeraldClouds for editing her own gift with such aplomb and awesomeness. We'll see you on December 1st! -KR