TWO
"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee," she'd snapped, looking him up and down with as much scorn as she could muster, and the look in his eyes as he turned to storm away told her her words had hit home.
She had not been sorry. Han had unexpected depths, it was true, and he was rather better, conversationally, than she'd first expected during that entirely unnecessary and frankly ill-planned rescue aboard the Death Star. He was still, however, a smuggler, a mercenary, and prone to deserting them at the first sign of trouble. And that's what he had done.
Except, Leia thought to herself as she strode into the hangar, he had not, and now both Luke and Han were missing. A smattering of military personnel were standing near one of the screens; they saluted her as she approached, and she nodded.
"General Rieekan," she greeted the senior officer tensely.
"Any signal received?"
She knew and liked Carlist Rieekan too well to think he'd try to soften the blow for her, and he didn't.
"No, Princess."
The greying General hesitated for a moment, rubbing his chin with one hand.
"If they aren't in within the hour, we will have to close the doors for the night."
"I am aware. Thank you."
They walked back to the control room side by side, the General and the Princess, jointly and in entirely different ways in charge of this – this whatever this was, this rebellion, this resistance, this mess.
"Solo is a capable man. If anyone can find Skywalker and bring him back, it'll be him."
"I know."
She did know. Her initial message to him about Luke's disappearance had not necessarily been an order for him to head out to try and retrieve their friend – it was something far more primal and far more embarrassing than that – but upon reflection, there was nobody she'd rather have entrusted that mission to. Leia was unsure, all things considered, about what that meant for her perception of Han Solo, but it was true.
Rieekan glanced at her sideways.
"You're the child of your parents, your Highness."
That made her smile in spite of the hollow feeling in her stomach. He'd know, of course; he'd been one of her father's closest confidants for as long as she remembered, and he had served her mother with a dedication paralleled by few others.
"What makes you say so, General?"
"You've got leadership in your blood, that's all. You have no idea how much easier my job has become since you returned. The men respect you."
It was, she reflected as she made a polite response, exactly the right thing to say.
Leia Organa had always been bold, with more courage, perhaps, than was prudent, but her parents had taught her young that there was a right person for each job, and that her right job, as a Princess of Alderaan, was and had to be that of a leader. Her mother especially - her wonderful, her powerful, her endlessly impressive mother – had imprinted upon her young mind that in many ways, that meant she carried the greater burden than her men. Leadership, too, Breha had said, takes courage.
Leia recognised that as the doors finally closed, an hour and ten minutes later. It took courage to be the one who sent out her troops, the one who waited for news good or bad and then dealt with the outcome either way. The one who picked up the rubble of other people's lives – and of her own – and the one who really couldn't take any more loss, but who would if she was called upon.
It made her want to cry and it made her want to scream, but she did neither of those things, instead dismissing the few remaining pilots with a nod and a "goodnight". She gazed up at the Falcon as she strode out of the hangar again – wondering about the Wookiee, briefly, then wondering about the Wookiee wondering about Han.
As she stepped into her quarters, Leia took off her jacket, then, as an afterthought but not really, opened a comm link to the hangar– justincasejustincasejustincase. If she had to lose another world, so soon after her first, then she would know about it, would know every little thing the moment it happened.
She was sitting on the floor and scribbling furiously by the time a knock on the door startled her. Rising to her feet, she bid the visitor enter and, not wholly to her surprise, found herself looking up at the General once more.
"I – General."
"Princess Leia. I hope I do not disturb."
Leia smiled and gestured at her handiwork – sheets upon sheets scattered over the floor now.
"Of course not, General, and I apologise for the disarray. I received some more information today thanks to our new additions, and I am adjusting the files. My desk, I'm afraid, did not quite provide all the space I required - "
There was really no need at all to explain any of this, of course. She knew why he was there, and she knew he'd known what she was doing, and she knew her duty and hated it.
Leia gestured in the direction of her small table and chairs.
"Can I offer you a drink?"
He sat down and without waiting for his response, she took a bottle out of her locker and poured two small glasses.
"It's Corellian – a gift from Captain Solo."
She allowed herself a smile.
"Nonetheless, it's tolerably nice. Let us drink."
He raised his glass, and they spoke the toast in unison, as they both knew they always would.
"To Alderaan."
"Alderaan."
They sipped the wine, which was, indeed, quite nice – and Leia waited patiently for the General to broach the subject she knew was on his mind. He took a few minutes, then visibly steeled himself.
"In regard to the new information on the – matter, your Highness, I suppose no new intelligence has been received regarding…?"
His wife and son had been on the planet as it exploded. She could not be sure, but she felt it in her bones, and he did too, but like her, he would always see their shapes on every base, in every town, every hovel on every planet he ever visited. They all had their shapes now, their shadows. That, too, she suspected they'd never lose.
"I'm afraid not, General. The last information I received confirmed our previous suspicions. There is no reason to believe it was inaccurate."
And with that, she reflected passively, almost numbly, as she sipped her nice Corellian wine in hernice quarters, she broke his heart, like she'd broken many others and like she'd live to break many more.
They're likely to have died, I'm afraid.
There's no reason to believe they were off the planet surface at the time.
They were most likely at work.
I'm sorry.
The words were hateful to her, but Mother had once told her leadership required courage, and Leia would not shirk.
They finished their wine after exchanging a few more polite, friendly observations, then he left, leaving her to the night.
The comm link remained open; the Princess remained awake.