A/N: This is the final chapter of Rebel Retreat! Thank you all for reading - I felt it was time to end it, as I have no more of a story path to follow for this. Hopefully, you enjoyed it! Check out my other fanfics for a further story line, continuing their saga through the missed parts of the movies.

XVIII

"You have failed me again, Lord Vader," Emperor Palpatine spat through the video screen in the Sith Lord's chambers.

The Empire had to withdraw from the fight on Naboo. Lord Vader's use of the Force had run dry mysteriously, as though the planet had sucked it right out of him.

"Padme," Vader stated. A simple name now a curse, in the back of his mind. "I'm sorry, Emperor," he concluded sternly. Crossing an arm across his chest armor, he bowed and vowed that nothing like it would ever happen again.

The Emperor was not accepting it. "I took you under my wing, Lord Vader, and expect you to uphold your duties as my apprentice until it is your time to take the throne. Do not fail me again, under any circumstances."

"Yes, my Lord," Vader agreed. Under the armor was a faint feeling of loss, but he would never let the Emperor detect it. For now, all that was important was focusing on how to lure Skywalker away from that planet so he could finish him for good.

Spilled blood sparkled on the courtyard in front of the palace of Naboo like red wine on a white carpet. As custom, the citizens of Naboo carried their dead off in order to prepare them for the required parade and burial ceremonies. To them, death was a big deal. Luke, Leia, and Han had all witnessed it on an everyday basis, but Naboo was peaceful, or it had been until the Empire had swept through.

Though he should have been helping, Luke stood in front of wooden doors leading to the Queen's room. As if all of his emotions had left him at once, he voided out the noises of the crowd bustling to clean up outside or the constant shoves as an upset member of the battle rushed by and subtly blamed him for getting their family killed. They were right – it was his fault. Jar Jar had saved him, but the entire battle still rested on his shoulders. Next time, he would pick a remote location to hide away on, instead of having to stop in a galaxy that didn't deserve to be part of his dramatic life.

Silently, Luke squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his face towards the ground, similar to how he had when he had seen the charred bodies of his aunt and uncle on Tatooine. The memories haunted him.

"Master Luke!" The voice of See Threepio rang through the now quieting corridors as he arrived behind his owner. "Have you seen Artoo?" he asked. "I'm worried he got himself into trouble again. Oh, I can't keep up with him!"

Luke looked up slowly and tried his best to keep his face steady. "No, I haven't," he replied steadily.

Threepio studied him for a moment. Then, he stepped away awkwardly, turning to glance back as he went. Even for a droid, it was easy to tell when something was not right.

"Threepio!" Luke called, stopping him from leaving.

"Oh - yes, Mater Luke?" the golden droid stuttered as he turned back towards him.

"The medical wing."

"I beg your pardon, sir, but I don't under—" Threepio began, but Luke cut him off.

"Artoo. He's in the medical wing. With Han and Chewie."

"Medical? Has something happened to him?"

Luke shook his head. "Leia."

"Princess Leia?!" Threepio gasped. "Surely she must be okay-"

Skywalker cut him off. The last thing he wanted to think about was what was going to happen to Leia. "I'll meet you down there after I discuss the best route from here with the Queen. We'll leave for Hoth tonight, after the funeral services, for…" There was no need to continue and list a bunch of names that he barely knew. They were people he would never meet, and they were gone.

He dipped back around again. "Yes, sir," the droid stammered before taking off toward the medical wing to meet the Princess and her company.

"Leia. Come on, sweetheart. Stay with me for just a little bit longer." A desperate Han Solo set the wounded Princess down on the floor of the medical room.

Leia's neck flopped about, almost allowing it to smack off of the ground if it weren't for Chewie catching it before she left Han's arms.

Solo gently slapped the side of her face in an attempt to wake her – it was a trick he was taught as part of the Imperial Navy. If they didn't wake after being pushed around, leave them behind. They could be replaced, but Leia couldn't. He was gentle with her as he waited for the droid to inspect her wound. Surely, they should be able to help her out as long as they had the right supplies to do so.

Chewie gargled a small saying of remorse, letting Han know that he felt badly about not watching her more.

Solo frowned – sure, he wasn't going to admit to it, but he cared about her…maybe a little bit more than he'd like. "I dunno, Chewie," he mumbled, still studying her face. "Luke's gonna kill me if we lose her. I'm gonna kill me." A moment of silence passed before he came to a realization. "I shouldn't have lied to her, Chewie."

When the Wookie questioned his train of thought, he paused for a second before continuing.

"About the Falcon," he informed him. "I told her I got it from Corellia, but I just wanted an excuse to see…what's left of the only family I ever had." Solo wasn't one for genuine moments, and hated that he cared enough about such a small detail. "Now she'll never know the truth about her, or me, or how we got here."

Chewie tried comforting his friend. He placed a furry arm over Han's shoulders as they watched Leia be checked out by the droid working the wing.

Then, the wooshing noise of the doors behind them alerted them to a new presence…or two. A beeping followed – the distressed howls of Artoo Deeto. The gasps of the human-like droid followed.

"Oh, Princess!" Threepio cried out. "Master Luke was right! Artoo, whatever will we do?!"

Han whipped his head around with anger displayed on his face. "You take that bucket of bolts of yours and wheel on out of here," he demanded, instinct taking over. "And take goldenrod with you!"

They listened to his command, even though Solo immediately felt badly about yelling at them. Sure, he wanted to be tough, but there were some of his only friends. So was Leia. He would never forgive himself if anything really happened to her.

Suddenly, her eyes rolled under closed lids as the droid dabbed some ointment on to her open wound – it would heal in a matter of hours, if she took to it properly. Of course, there was always the side effect of burning and infection, if her body wasn't used to it. It had been an executive decision by Han, assuming her Senator's body had been through almost everything he had.

He studied her fiercely, waiting for a reaction. Then, brown eyes blinked open and struggled to focus on the two faces hovering over hers.

"Han?" she asked quietly as her vision became clearer. "Where are we?"

"Medical," he grunted, giving her the simplest answer.

Leia's eyes flashed open and she immediately attempted to sit up, alarmed. "Medical?!" she repeated, thinking of everyone else before herself. "Where's Luke? Is he okay? Are you okay?"

"Luke's fine," Solo told her sourly. "So are we," he added. "You, on the other hand," he began, but then Leia scrunched up her face in pain.

Leia laid back down, taking the weight off of her elbows quickly after getting there. Her wound would take hours to heal, not minutes.

"You should lay down," Han instructed, the Wookie next to him backing up his opinion.

"Did I get shot?" she asked, stunned.

"No, they gave you a pat on the back," he muttered, rolling his eyes and huffing out a breath. Then. Solo sighed. "It's my fault," he admitted, looking away from her. "I wasn't paying attention and they came in from behind."

All at once, it was as if Leia had remembered it all. "Luke!" she cried again. "And Vader. Where is he? We need to get out of here!"

"Relax!" Han ordered, trying to calm the panicked Princess. He placed a hand on her shoulder in attempt to keep her back on the ground. "Vader's gone. Luke's with the Queen."

"The Queen?" she repeated once more.

"Yeah, something about wanting her forgiveness before we head out. The fleet's recharging as we speak."

"Right, Hoth…" the Princess mumbled, almost as though she was regretting the decision to go to the ice planet.

"Don't sound so thrilled," Solo said sarcastically, stepping away and onto his heels in attempt to stand up and leave her alone until they left.

But Leia grabbed his hand. "Han, wait!" she demanded.

He listened. "Yes, your highness?" he asked, waiting patiently.

Leia gazed at him with kind eyes for the first time since their arrival to the battle. "Thank you," she told him sincerely. "For saving me."

"Anytime, your Worship." But Solo wasn't about to leave things like that. He could go, sure, and they could continue hating each other. But something had changed, and he didn't want her to hate him. "You're welcome," he decided, changing his answer. "Get ready, we're leaving in a few hours."

"We're?" she asked, stunned that he wasn't leaving after everything that had happened.

Solo forced half a smile. "Yeah," he agreed. "Someone's gotta watch out and make sure you don't get yourself shot again."

Chewie agreed, his yowl ringing around the room as it bounced off the walls.

Slowly, Leia's lips curved into a smile of her own. No words were necessary to reply – only a kind, warm smile. That was enough to lead into their journey to Hoth on good terms, with Luke and the rest of the Alliance on their side.