The exciting (I hope) conclusion...
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All of this for Luke? Leia couldn't begin to understand. It couldn't possibly just be retaliation for his role in the destruction of the first Death Star. There had to be more to it than that. But why would the Empire want Luke so badly?
The Lieutenant Commander had left them alone in the cell again while he sought out a computer terminal to rearrange the guards' shifts in order for them to retrieve Luke and successfully escape the space station. Now, they were waiting anxiously and it was Han's turn to pace the cell.
He halted suddenly and turned to face her, hands on hips. "How do we know we can trust this guy?"
She sighed. "Well, for one, he's part of Chrome Wave. And two, we don't have any other options."
"How do we know he's with this Chrome Wave?"
"He wouldn't know about it if he wasn't."
"You don't know that," he replied accusingly.
Leia rolled her eyes. Why did he make everything an argument? "What would he have to gain otherwise?"
He grimaced. "I don't trust him."
"Perhaps you would prefer to remain here when we escape?"
He just shook his head with a long suffering sigh.
"I hope Luke's okay," she said more quietly. If he had ended up in the medbay, she couldn't even imagine what Vader had done to him.
He was staring at her now. "I bet he's fine. Whatever's wrong, the med droid'll fix him right up."
Leia nodded, preoccupied with the idea of escape. The Lieutenant Commander hadn't told them what his plan was beyond how they would get Luke.
The sound of the door drew their attention instantly and the Officer was back inside, expression grim and determined.
"I've changed the guards' orders so that we have a short window of opportunity to get to Skywalker before the new shift starts. But, we have to go now."
"Let's go," Leia said without hesitation.
The Officer yanked two blasters from the back of his waistband and handed one to each of them then palmed his own.
"Put the blasters out of sight and keep your hands behind your backs as if you're in binders. Unless it's a superior officer, no one will question me if they see us."
Han and Leia placed their blasters hidden in the back of their pants and put their intertwined arms behind them to cover the evidence. The Imperial hit the door controls and they cautiously followed him into the corridor.
Leia's heart was thudding in her chest, a hard, dull beat. She would have been far less nervous if they didn't have to retrieve Luke before their escape. It greatly multiplied the possibility of running into trouble.
One lone Stormtrooper passed by them, throwing a salute to the Officer, but did not appear suspicious. By the lack of activity in the corridors, Leia assumed it must be night cycle.
Taking a lift two levels up, they reached the medbay. Currently, there were no guards and it was easy to steal inside and find Luke's assigned room. They slipped into the room and there was Luke, lying on a medbunk, eyes closed. As they drew closer, Leia noted with alarm that in place of his right hand, there was a mechanical, robotic one. She went numb with shock.
"Luke," she whispered in a croak.
"Damn," Han swore softly. His voice seemed distant as he spoke to the Officer. "How're we gonna get him outta here?"
As if from down a long, echoing tunnel, Leia heard the reply.
"We'll have to get him on his feet. He's heavily sedated. We have to inject him with a stimulant."
Barely aware of the bustle behind her, she stared at Luke's ashen face. What had happened to him? What had Vader done? And his hand…his poor hand…
Time seemed to suddenly whip back into place as the two men began rummaging through medical supplies in the cabinet on the other side of the small room.
"Here!" Han called. "This oughta do it."
She turned to find him inserting a small pack into a hydroinjector. A nervous flutter nagged at the recesses of her mind.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked Han.
"Trust me." He placed the injector at Luke's neck and pressed the button, sending a hissing sound through the chamber. Several seconds later, Luke inhaled with a gasp and sat up with wide, terrified eyes.
Leia quickly placed an arm around his shoulders and spoke in a steady, soothing voice.
"Luke, you're okay. You're okay, just breathe."
Wild-eyed, he glanced around, seeming to see nothing.
"We're gonna get you outta here, Kid," Han said from his other side.
"Where am I?" Luke rasped, eyes beginning to focus.
"You're on the Death Star," Leia replied gently. "Do you remember coming here?" She watched the confusion in his eyes slowly shift to recognition, and then, something akin to horror.
"Yes," he breathed, voice barely audible.
"We have to get going," the Officer said urgently. "We don't have much time."
Luke's eyes fell on the man, but didn't seem to register him.
"Can you stand up?" Leia asked him carefully. His mental state was scaring her.
Luke nodded mutely, eyes still wide and fearful. He swung his legs over one side of the bunk then looked down at the mechanical hand on his right side. Horror slid across his features and Han spoke with a quiet reassurance that she had never heard from him before. He guided Luke to his feet.
"You're okay, Kid. We're gonna get you outta here. You're doing great." With that, he took the mechanical hand in his and gave it a shake, as if they were meeting for the first time.
The action touched Leia more than she would have expected. Following suit, she took that same hand in hers, ignoring the cold, hard metal that should have been his own warm skin. "Come on, we have to go now," she implored, tugging gently.
A new awareness slid across Luke's features and he seemed to gather himself before standing, right hand still held in hers.
"Let's go," the Imperial grunted. He led them out the door and down the corridor to the same lift they had taken up. Before long, the lift came to a stop and they crept cautiously from inside.
When they came to the open hangar, they paused, assessing the guards, four on each side. Moving back behind the blast doors, the Lieutenant Commander spoke in a low whisper.
"We can take a Tartan-class Patrol Cruiser. It has the best defenses."
"That'll work," Han replied swiftly. "I'll take the lead. Leia, you and Luke follow." He turned to their companion. "Cover them."
The man nodded, gripping his blaster.
"Wait," Luke hissed.
All eyes turned to him. Leia was pleased to see that he looked more alert.
"I'll create a distraction," he said soberly.
"How?" Han asked with disbelief.
"Don't worry," Luke replied. "I've got this." He closed his eyes, raised one hand, and there was a sudden banging noise on the other side of the hangar. A banging noise that caused all the Stormtroopers to rush to that side to examine the source of the sound.
Pleasantly surprised, Leia smiled as Han whispered gruffly, "Let's go!"
With quiet footsteps, they rushed across the hangar, out of sight of the distracted Stormtroopers. Han stopped at the bottom of the boarding ramp and ushered the others aboard. Leia turned to see Han hurrying up the ramp.
"Can you fly this?" the Imperial Officer asked Han.
"I can fly anything." He hit the controls to seal the hatch and it began to rise with a low, rumbling sound that would alert the guards to their presence. "Where're the guns?"
"There are four stations, one up top, one on the bottom, and one on each side."
"We'll split up between stations," Leia said. "I've got the top." She sprinted off in search of the top guns as they all dispersed. When she found the ladder to the gun well, she hauled herself up as quickly as possible, took the middle seat, and, as she placed the headset over her ears, she both heard and felt the engines roar to life. She switched on her targeting computer and lamented that she could see nothing of what was going on outside in the hangar.
With a jolt, Leia felt the ship begin to rise and looked up as the hangar ceiling seemed to rush at her. Then, the ship was moving and before she knew it, all she saw above were distant star points dappling the darkness of space.
For a long moment, there was nothing but a false sense of safety. Then, Han's voice came through the tiny speaker in her ear.
"Fighters coming at us from all sides, stay sharp. There's probably a tractor beam in that thing, hold on, it's going to be a rough trip!"
Leia was aware of the ship spinning in a twisty path as she closely watched the targeting computer. Three fighters neared her focal point and she readied herself to hit the trigger. With a brilliant flash, she managed to shoot down two of the three.
"There are too many of them!" the Imperial shouted. "We'll never get clear to make the jump to lightspeed!"
"Don't worry," Han gritted out. "We'll make it." The tension in his tone was audible.
A loud blast rocked the ship and Han spoke again.
"We've lost the rear shields! Back gunner, stay sharp!"
With rapid fire, Leia obliterated several more fighters as they hit the red indicator.
She heard an unfamiliar grunt of frustration, followed by Luke's voice.
"Got 'em!"
Han had fallen silent, concentrating on evading the TIEs and the Death Star's tractor beam. Perhaps they were lucky and that, like the space stations weapon system, was not yet operational. They had to be lucky sometime, didn't they?
She continued to shoot down as many fighters as she could, body tense with concentration. Han's voice was harsh in her ear.
"Dammit! We've lost the front shields!"
"Don't worry." Luke's voice was low and eerie, as she had never before heard it. "He wants us alive."
The ship went into a sudden dive then roared back upwards and, finally, she heard the low whine of the hyperdrive engines and any stars visible streamed and distorted as they soared to hyperspace.
With a huge exhalation, Leia sagged into her seat, weak with relief. The stress of their escape poured over her, a heavy, exhausting shroud. For just a moment, she savored the victory, knowing the feeling never lasted.
###
As Leia left the main med center on Frigate One, she saw Han strutting through the corridor in her direction. She felt so drained, as if she could sleep for the next standard year. The brightness of the sterile corridor was bringing a dull throb to her temples. She waited in front of the entrance until Han stopped in front of her.
He jerked his head towards the door. "How's he doin'?"
She sighed, trying to release all the pent-up frustration and exhaustion. "Physically, he's fine. Two-One-Bee is just finishing placing the synthflesh over the mechanics." She pressed her lips together grimly and shook her head. "But…he's changed somehow. It's as if he's lost something. I can't imagine what Vader did to him." She stared distantly at nothing, Luke's haunted eyes echoing in her mind. When she looked back at Han, his eyes were soft with concern. In another situation, she might have teased him about it.
"I'm sure he'll be fine. He just needs a few days."
"No, it's more than that," she said quietly. "I can't explain it. He's just different." She hesitated a moment, not wanting to sound crazy. "It's as if I can feel the change in him."
In a surprisingly sympathetic tone, he tried to soothe her. "You're just being paranoid. You'll see. Luke'll be okay." He looked at her more closely. "How're you doing?"
"I'm fine."
"Well, you look like hell."
"Why thank you," she replied with a bite to her tone.
He raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I just call it like I see it. Have you slept since we got back?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, avoided his gaze for a moment, and chewed at her bottom lip. "Not yet." She was surprised when his hands fell gently on her shoulders. Reflexively, her eyes sprung to his.
"Get some sleep," he said earnestly.
She nodded, eyes lowered, her mind sliding back to that moment in the cell that had been interrupted. "Have you slept?"
He hesitated a moment. "No. I'm gonna go see Luke then hit the bunk."
She forced a thin-lipped, sardonic smile.
"Go get some sleep," he added. "Don't make me drag you to bed."
Unbidden, her eyebrows rose in surprise. The off-hand comment startled her and she wondered if that had been his intention. She decided it hadn't been when he dropped his hands from her shoulders, took an awkward step back, and his eyes seemed to look everywhere but at her. Her mind groped for a response but none was forthcoming.
"See ya later," he said with a quick nod of his head. He turned and entered the med center.
With a sigh, Leia stared at the door he had disappeared through. Why was everything so back-and-forth between them? She never knew what to expect from him.
She couldn't decide how she felt about her failed confession on the Death Star. At times, she was glad that she hadn't admitted her feelings. Others, she regretted the interruption. She hadn't even known exactly what words she had been going to say. Only that, under the dire circumstances, she hadn't wanted to lose the opportunity in case it was the end for them.
Now, she just felt tired and uncertain. Han was right. She needed to sleep. She went to the nearest lift and took it down to her temporary quarters. She had requested a room on the Medical Frigate in order to stay close to Luke.
She was concerned about him. It had been impossible to articulate to Han, but there was something so somber and melancholy about him. She hated to even think it, but she sensed a slight darkness in him. It was as if an ominous, black cloud had stained his heart. She knew it sounded crazy, but she felt it in him, somehow.
Inside the room she had been assigned, she sat heavily on the small cot and pulled off her boots. She was too tired to even bother removing her uniform. Lying down, her head rested against the lumpy pillow and, as uncomfortable as the thin mattress was, it was far more welcoming than the hard floor of the cell on the Death Star.
Although, it had been comforting to lay on Han's shoulder. There was no solid sleep possible, aches and pains considered, but his nearness had been soothing. They had each dozed on and off, only to abruptly awaken to the hellish reality they were stuck in.
She felt so weary now, yet her mind was too active to sleep. She was probably overtired. It had easily been two days since she had slept at all. Allowing her mind to drift aimlessly, her thoughts turned to her father.
Her hard work out in the field, risking life and limb, only seemed to stave off her grief until moments of quiet. She wished he were there now, to discuss the latest events, to talk about the Death Star and Luke. Father would understand, it wouldn't be difficult at all to explain to him. An empty feeling pervaded in her chest, freezing her in time for just a breath.
For a swift, biting moment, all she wanted to do was run away, off to Naboo, with her mother. To hide from all the turmoil of the galaxy, make it anyone else's fight but hers. The moment quickly passed; she could never abandon the Rebellion, the fight against evil. It had been her purpose for too long.
Yet again, she had blundered her first attempt to retrieve the Death Star plans. Failure did not sit well with her, particularly in matters of such dire importance. She couldn't afford to make mistakes, there was too much at stake. They had to find a way to obtain the plans.
A knock at the door brought on a feeling of dread. She struggled to drag herself upright and pad the short distance to the door. She hit the controls and the door opened to reveal Han, a sober expression on his face.
"What're you doin'?"
"I was trying to sleep."
His brow rose. "Oh."
"You sound surprised. You told me to get some sleep."
"Yeah, but since when do you ever do anything I tell you to do?"
She couldn't help the tiny smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth. "What do you want?"
He peered inside, over her head. "Can I come in?"
A bit surprised, she stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. The door slid shut and she turned to face him. He looked uneasy.
"I saw Luke," he said shortly.
"And?"
"And I see what you mean. Says he has to go back to that Jedi Master and finish training."
He hadn't said that to her. Something vital dropped to her stomach as she realized that Luke would again be leaving and Han had only three months left to his contract.
"And soon you'll be gone, too," she said quietly, eyes never leaving his. His gaze fell to the floor and the moment became thick and heavy, a storm cloud that threatened to pour over them.
He looked up at her again and, with a hint of awkwardness, continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He looks spooked."
Leia nodded. "I know. That's what I was trying to explain…he's different. I asked him what happened back there. He didn't want to talk about it."
"Have you?"
"What?"
"Have you talked about what you went through on the Death Star?"
Surprised by the question, it took her a moment to answer. "You mean what we went through?"
He gave a terse nod. "Don't they have to deprogram you or somethin'?"
She rolled her eyes slightly. "Not quite. It was suggested that I see a trauma counselor."
"Yeah, that's it. Did you?"
"No," she replied in a frosty tone.
He shrugged. "Maybe you should."
The suggestion irked her. "Have you?"
He smiled, characteristic arrogance bursting into his expression. "Course not."
"I assure you, I don't need to any more than you do," she said harshly.
"Suit yourself." He shrugged again. "I think Luke should."
"I was thinking the same thing. I'll speak to him about it."
He seemed to study her for a moment. "So, you're okay?"
"I'm okay." Her guard was up against whatever he might say next.
His lips pursed out as he nodded towards her. "Okay." He paused and it felt as if he had more to say but was not yet willing. "Talk to Luke. See ya around." He turned and stepped out the door without another word. It slid shut in Leia's face.
A soft sigh escaped her. The reality had come crashing back down on her. He was almost gone.
Why was that so difficult to accept? She couldn't imagine him not being around.
Why don't you do something about it?
The question had nagged at her for a long time now. After that night they spent together when…
It was so hard to think about. She had fallen into bed with him for all the wrong reasons. But, it had felt so right, so comforting, as if they belonged together.
Afterwards, she had been too grief stricken, angry, and filled with vengeance to acknowledge what had transpired between them. Her feelings for Han had seemed inconsequential just then. She had been consumed with revenge.
But, slowly, she had come back to herself. And Han had played a huge part in that. He hadn't allowed her to remain enveloped in that haze of rage that had threatened to drown her. Even though she resented him for it at the time, he had been at her back, relentlessly pulling her away from the edge of her own destruction.
Han had always been there for her, for almost four years now. She couldn't imagine his absence from her life. Every time she thought about it, she felt a gaping void in the center of her chest. She wanted to ask him to stay…but if she asked him, and he refused…
Was it worth the risk? If he left, she would hurt; but, if she asked him to stay and he did not, it would wound her pride as well.
She lay back down on the bunk, even more drained and exhausted than before.