Poor Leia...Poor Han...

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Aboard the Alliance's flagship, Home One, adrift in the Outer Rim with no place to call home for the Rebellion, the entire faction that had been housed in the Rebel Base on Nimbla had assembled in the huge conference room. Han, Chewie, and Luke stood together, two more faces in the huge crowd. They had gathered to pay tribute to all the lives lost with the transport Rebel Front during the evacuation, and to memorialize Bail Organa.

Han had dressed for the occasion in his best white shirt and navy blue jacket, and Luke and the other troops wore their dress uniforms. At the center of the room stood Princess Leia, General Rieekan, Admiral Ackbar, and Mon Mothma.

Leia looked somber yet beautiful in a long, flowing black dress that drew in at the waist and pooled past her feet. The collar came up to her neck and flared wide to her shoulders. Her hair was braided and coiled atop her head in the same style she had worn at the medal ceremony on Yavin. The other members of Command were dressed in tones of black, gray, and navy blue.

When the funereal music that played in the background tapered to silence, Mon Mothma stepped forward and addressed the crowd in a voice that was slower and more serious than usual.

"Thank you all for coming." Her eyes moved over the crowd, seeming to see everyone at once. "It is with heavy hearts that we gather here today. With war comes the loss of life, and never for a moment should we grow so used to bearing these losses that we forget to pause and pay tribute to what they have sacrificed."

Her speech continued for a time, but Han tuned her out, focusing on Leia. She stood beside Mon Mothma, austere and stone-faced. As far as he knew, she hadn't shed a tear since those first moments in the field with her mother. During the return trip from Naboo, she had remained in the crew quarters and spoken to no one.

In the few days that passed, he hadn't spoken to her at all. The one time he had tried, he had found her in the Command Center, where she had frostily informed him that she was busy. According to Luke, she had responded to him in a similar manner.

And so, Han had left her alone. Seeing her now filled him with an odd mix of sympathy and confusion. Defensiveness combined with a desire to hold her in his arms, until he wanted to bang his head against a wall.

Mon Mothma's speech ended and she stepped back, lowering her head, eyes large and sad. Leia stepped forward, chin raised with a defiant edge. Her voice was crisp and clear and did not betray the depth of her loss.

"It is always devastating to lose our comrades in arms. It is a high price that we must pay in order to restore peace and justice to the galaxy." She paused to let her eyes roam across the crowd, but Han suspected she saw no one. "This time, among others, the Empire claimed the life of my Father, Bail Organa, former Viceroy of Alderaan and esteemed Senator, as well. Those who knew my Father well, knew a man who was caring and loving, who would do anything to help those in need. A dedicated husband, father, and friend. Those who knew him from a distance were aware of his honor, his strength, and his dedication to fighting the Empire. Bail Organa has been a part of the Rebellion from its inception. We would not be here today had it not been for him. For twenty years, he remained in the background, surreptitiously affecting change from the inside. When that was forced to an end, My Father gladly took up arms on the frontline.

"His mission…his greatest desire, was to end the tyranny of the Emperor. To restore the greatness of the Old Republic and return this galaxy to democracy." She paused and her expression became filled with stiff-lipped determination, her eyes sharp and steely. "For Bail Organa, and all the others who have been lost in this fight against the evil of the Empire, The Rebel Alliance will live on and we will defeat the Empire and restore this galaxy."

Her hand raised in a subtle signal and Alderaan's planetary anthem began to play. Leia and the other members of High Command bowed their heads and all beings in the room respectfully followed suit.

As Han's eyes fell to the floor, his brow furrowed with concern. Leia's speech was less a eulogy and more a vow for justice, a call to arms. Her calm, collected delivery did not even come close to betraying the depth of her loss. He had seen the fallout with his own eyes, had held and comforted her. Now, no one would suspect that it had affected her so profoundly.

The room remained respectfully silent throughout the anthem. When it was over, Mon Mothma spoke again, inviting everyone to partake in the refreshments being served at the front of the large room.

Han turned to Luke and Chewie as groups of beings dispersed around them. Luke spoke before he could.

"She seems too calm."

Chewie barked quiet agreement and Han's lips compressed to a hard line.

"You wanna go try an' talk to her?" Han suggested.

Luke nodded, eyes seeming very blue.

"Lead the way, Chewie." The crowd was thick and the Wookiee was their best bet at getting close to Leia. As they made a slow crawl across the room, they observed that she was completely surrounded by the upper echelons of the Alliance.

"Forget it," Han said grimly. "Even if we make it through all of them, we'll never get her alone."

"I'll try to speak to her later," Luke replied.

"Okay. She won't give me the time of day." With no reason left to linger, he nodded to his companions. "See ya around." He turned and strode from the hall without waiting for a response. He had felt irritable ever since their return from Naboo.

As he made his way through the deserted corridors, his mind raced back to the night they abandoned the Rebel Base on Nimbla IV. With that came more emotions than he could ever hope to define. He tried to ignore them, but they always came simmering back to the surface.

It was impossible to forget how it had felt to hold Leia, to kiss her, to be inside her. He closed his eyes against a fierce wave of emotion, feet still dragging him forward mindlessly. When his eyes opened again, it was no easier.

He continually wavered back and forth between regret and yearning. Her hands and mouth on him, her passionate responses to his touch were impossible to put out of his mind. His body still burned for her, but more than that…his heart did, too.

He sighed through his nose and shook his head against the whirlwind inside him. Worst of all, she wouldn't let him near her. She, who had always been fairly open with him, was now locked up tighter than an Imperial detention center.

He was frustrated in every sense of the word.

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"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The words were growled from behind where Leia stood in the Command Center. She could never mistake Han's voice for any other.

She turned to face him with the raise of an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" She kept her voice cool and unaffected.

If his voice hadn't keyed her in to his current state of anger, the look on his face would have. Eyes narrowed harshly, mouth twisted in a scowl, it was Han at his most hostile.

"I asked what the hell you're doing."

"And what are you referring to?"

He looked appalled at the question, as if were self-explanatory and she should know exactly what he were referring to. "The mission to Montalto."

"Ah. That."

"Yeah, that."

She regarded him for an inquisitive moment. "I don't quite understand your implication. It's a mission. I'm taking it." She was prepared for this argument. She had already been through this with Rieekan.

"It's a dangerous mission."

"I'm aware of that." She saw his patience waning, the frustrated clench of his jaw.

He glanced around the room then stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. "Why are you taking this on? You're command, you don't have to."

Her brow sprung up. "I know. But, what kind of role model am I for the other members of the Alliance? The only way to inspire them is for me to face the danger alongside them."

"They don't need more inspiration. This isn't about them. It's about you."

The challenge in his voice irked her. "How is it about me?" she asked dubiously.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice even further. "You want revenge. And you're willing to risk yourself for it."

Her gaze sharpened as she privately acknowledged that there might be some truth to his statement. But, she wasn't about to admit that to him. "Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed.

"Don't go on that mission."

She looked him up and down in a dismissive gesture. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Don't go on that mission."

"Why do you even care?" she asked with a tired sigh.

For a moment, his eyes softened and his lips pressed together thoughtfully. Then, his normative callousness seeped in. "I don't. I just don't want you gettin' yourself killed."

Leia allowed herself a smirk. "Because you care?"

"I didn't say that!" He pointed one finger at her face then looked around to see who was watching them. A few had glanced their way at the raised tone of his voice, but had quickly returned their attention to business.

She glared at him knowingly. "Thank you for your concern. But, my mind is made up." She turned back to her console and heard him swear under his breath. A moment later, his footsteps faded away.

For a moment, she closed her eyes. He still got to her. She hated to admit it, but he did.

Her eyes opened and she stared at the screen, unable to return her attention to the information she had been dutifully examining before his arrival.

Han was a distraction she couldn't allow. She couldn't become attached to him. When he left…a thought that always filled her with a feeling of desolation…it might break her. She already knew it would be hard to watch him leave. And if she allowed more nights like the one they had shared, she was going to fall in love with him. It scared her to think that she might already be halfway there.

Since their return from Naboo, Leia had been working double shifts, pushing away the pain of loss and concentrating on only the Rebellion. By the time she finally went to bed, she fell asleep almost instantly. There was no time to think of anything else. No time to miss anyone.

But, sometimes, when she was in the shower, or waiting for a meeting, or eating a meal, those last few minutes running for the Falcon on Nimbla IV flew through her mind. Guilt, anguish, and grief overwhelmed her in those moments. It overwhelmed her and she didn't think she could take it. She felt a gaping hole in her chest that burned, threatening to bubble up into her throat. She would close her eyes and swallow hard, forcing her thoughts from things she was unable to stand.

The only thoughts that kept those feelings at bay were memories of that night with Han, when she had found such solace in his arms. He had distracted her utterly, mesmerizing her with the feelings in both her heart and body.

The problem was, those thoughts only led her to long for him again. It seemed that she was damned no matter what.

She needed to remain focused on the Rebellion. Han's accusation came back to her. Was it so wrong to want to join the fight more effectively? It was hard to always be on the sidelines, planning but not doing. It was time for her to make more of a difference. And if her life was put at risk in the process, that was okay. Everyone else put their lives on the line. It was time for her to join their ranks and make a real difference. She would bring the Empire down by the sheer force of her will.