VI. Hours
Spare time is precious when you're a Senator for a fledgling Republic. So a freak power outage and a four-hour delay doesn't feel like such a bad thing.
She strolls through the gardens, enjoying the quiet. But she's not alone. She sense her twin before she sees him, and smiles.
"Displaced, also?"
He nods. "I've been thinking."
"That's new."
He laughs, but softly. "About our father."
It's her turn to go silent. "Do you ever wonder?" He continues. "What he was like?"
"I wonder… if he'd be proud of me."
He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yes. He would."
VII. Days
The prospect sent her stomach twisting.
Four days in a ship with the biggest ego on the base. She wondered if she might suffocate.
Han didn't seem thrilled, either. "Four days with the Ice Princess? The Falcon's heating system couldn't handle it."
Leia made a very un-diplomatic suggestion, and Han chuckled. "Didn't know they taught that in finishing school, Your Worship."
"Don't call me that."
"Fine, baby."
"Baby? I- I've met toddlers with more maturity!" She stormed off.
"Betcha they're a helluva lot less fun," Han called after her. He turned to Luke. "Just be glad she likes you, kid."
VIII. Weeks
He wasn't sure he'd ever feel his toes again. Why the Rebellion had chosen this ice cube was beyond him. Probably so Her Worshipfulness would feel more at home. She'd explained it to him once, but he'd found her lips much more interesting.
The cold made him restless. Each week he stayed, sharing their triumphs, their sorrows, their food, made it that much harder to leave. And attachments were something he couldn't afford.
He wished again that the secret base could be on a distant planet where the average temperature was above zero. His feet were freezing to the ground.
IX. Months
Leia laid a hand absently on her stomach. She could feel the blooming life beneath her fingertips, changing, growing. Han settled next to her, and she adjusted to fit into his arms.
"Do you think they'll like me?" he asked.
Leia laughed. "You never know. They may be smarter than their mother."
"Hey!"
She kissed his cheek apologetically. "It is a lot to think about, though. What will they look like? How will they act? What will they do for this world?"
"Exactly."
"Well, we'll find out soon enough. Only six more months."
"That's an awful long time to wait."
X. Years
Twenty-one. It wasn't a particularly significant number. In fact, the only true meaning it bore in the greater galaxy was that it marked the legal age, on most civilized planets, to purchase alcohol.
Han Solo and the boys of the Rogue Squadron had no intention of letting this monumental occasion pass by uncelebrated, so Lke found himself tackled, tied, and dragged off to the local bar.
Unfortunately, the actual milestone didn't permeate Luke's memory. The alcohol hit everything else.
"Welcome to manhood, kid." Han said.
Luke stood up and wiped his mouth. "I think I'll just stick to fruit juice."