The meeting was not going well. If Leia had to explain their need to establish more consistent training for new recruits one more time, she was going to lose it. She understood diplomacy. She was raised to follow rules of etiquette and decorum. But that was the old Leia and the Leia sitting in this room was struggling to maintain a semblance of patience.
"If we are going into battle together, on missions, supporting each other through campaigns, we need to know what to expect and how to communicate." Leia kept her tone even. She could have added a dash of sweetness, something to take the edge off, but they were well past that point. "It is unreasonable to assume they will all figure it out as they go along."
"Your Highness, no one is suggesting we send anyone out without some form of training." General Galadotte looked as exasperated as Leia felt. "But we have neither the time nor the resources to dictate how individual bases choose to do so."
"Most of our recruits have little or no military experience. Most have never held a blaster let alone flown an X-Wing into battle." Leia held Galadotte's gaze. "While every base or Rebel cell will continue with individual campaigns, it our coming together that will have a the greatest impact."
"That doesn't answer the issue of resources."
"Our proposal lays out a clear plan on using the resources and skills already available to us."
Galadotte shifted in her seat, tried to restrain her frustrated sigh. Leia almost laughed, almost.
You're lucky we didn't have this meeting right after Yavin. You would have been thranta fodder by now.
Those first few weeks after Alderaan and the Death Star's destruction were a frenzy of anger, guilt, and grief for Leia. She couldn't discern what was an immediate concern and what could be dealt with in due course. Everything was a crisis. Everything needed to happen immediately and she was the only being capable of getting the job done.
She yelled. A lot. Managed to not throw too many insults around, except where Captain Solo was concerned and he threw just as many back, but there was no disguising her frustrations. She couldn't see beyond her own mandate and didn't have time to wait for others to catch up. General Rieekan had to remind her they were all on the same side.
He understood. He lost his home, too. His family and friends on Alderaan. He knew what she was feeling but she needed to focus her anger on the Empire.
"We are going to have disagreements about methods and strategies but perhaps you should listen to other opinions before condemning them."
Rieekan was a seasoned general and advisor, as well as a father. A father who had lost all his sons. His voice was kind but she didn't misinterpret his intent. This was an order more than a suggestion.
Leia took his words to heart and six months later she had made real progress. She recalled the lessons her mother taught her about diplomacy and took deep breaths before responding in briefings. She remembered her father's guidance around negotiations and took extra time to prepare for every meeting, not assuming she already had all the answers. She still thought she was right but admitted she had to cede some ground now and then. Reminded herself they were playing the long game and not to focus only on immediate, however satisfying, results. The war wasn't going to be over in a week. Maybe not even a year. Possibly not in her lifetime.
She was also fairly certain her father never used the phrase playing the long game. She had her new associates to thank for her recent, more colourful vocabulary.
But after hours in this briefing room, Leia knew her patience was dwindling. Possible done. Politicians could argue a single point for days. Military leaders could posture endlessly for positions of power. Put them all in a room together and it was like a gaggle of porgs squawking. Leia restarted her deep breathing techniques.
They won the Battle of Yavin but it wasn't a decisive victory. They had only just come together as an Alliance, amassing weapons and ships at the base, and it was still a tenuous allegiance. There was still infighting on how to oppose the Empire and if armed conflict was the answer. They were never going to match Imperial fire power and some considered engaging in battle a fool's errand.
Then a small group took matters into their own hands and stole the Death Star plans from Scarif and Leia's father sent her to Tatooine to retrieve a Jedi Knight and a whole new story was set in motion. The Rebels on Scarif gave their lives, Leia was captured by the Empire and Alderaan was destroyed before her eyes, and Luke, Han and Chewbacca got her safely back to Yavin with the plans. Life existed on one plane then a few days later, maybe only hours, it was on a new one.
After Yavin, the Rebels scattered with the Empire in hot pursuit. Rather than working from one base they established many, spreading out across the galaxy with High Command as the central authority. They were on the move, attacking Imperial outposts and factories, gathering intel, trying to dislodge and disrupt as many factions as possible. It was exhausting and at times demoralizing work and Leia didn't slow down. They had a swell of support, volunteers and supplies, but it was a constant scramble to keep up the momentum, stay in communication, and ensure they were all heading in the same direction. It took all those months to find even a moment of calm to allow them to meet.
They were gathered on the frigate Lumen to plot out next moves and it was Leia's first time officially at the table with central High Command and sector leadership. It used to be her father and she knew everyone felt his absence. It was impossible to avoid. Leia felt it at every turn and with every breath.
"We can't teach natural instincts." Galadotte leaned back in her chair. Looked around the room to make her pronouncement. "We should test recruits to build an elite fighting force. They will be facing the Imperial Navy. The Empire has a rigorous selection process, only the best of the best are admitted as cadets and make it to the level of pilot. We will only beat them if we rise to their level of expertise."
"We have several former members of the Imperial Navy working with us, ready to train new pilots. They are prepared to share all, so called, Imperial expertise."
Galadotte smiled at Leia. It was a tolerant smile, like she was trying to mollify a petulant child. The General placed one of her hands on the table, stretching her arm in Leia's direction.
"Your Highness, we appreciate that you've been involved in, and vital to, a number of recent campaigns but it would be best if military strategy was left to the experts."
General Galadotte nodded to the Colonel, her second-in-command, beside her. Fron gave a nod in reply. He, too, thought the matter was closed.
Leia ignored them both and stood up. It was a slight break in protocol, taking the initiative without the proper introduction. She didn't have time to ponder whether or not her father would have done the same.
Bail's not here.
"We've received an unprecedented surge in support since the destruction of Alderaan and the Death Star." She moved to the front and placed her datapad on the table. Leia scanned the room and saw Luke, with a wide smile and encouraging nod, sitting at the back. "We need to make full use of the new recruits and supplies."
"The General understands the importance of bringing everyone on board, your Highness." Colonel Fron didn't bother to hide his smirk. He and the General were quick to use her royal title to remind her that she didn't have a military one. "But we need to use our pilots strategically. We need them in battle, not the classroom. We were victorious at Yavin but suffered tremendous losses."
"I know, Colonel. I was there." She didn't need at add more. Everyone understood the implication. Princess Leia was at the Battle of Yavin and General Galadotte and Colonel Fron were not.
"We need to get more fighters in the air." Leia smiled. Definitely didn't smirk. "We need the pilots we have now to help."
When Galadotte attempted to interrupt, Leia didn't hold up a hand or look in the General's direction. The screen behind Leia lit up with information from her datapad and she started talking.
"We will, of course, take questions at the end of the presentation." She nodded toward Luke. "Commander Skywalker is available to answer questions relating to the use of fighters and military strategy, as well as the overall training program we will establish."
For the next thirty minutes, Leia had full command of the room. As she went through each screen, explained every detail, she felt her anger dissipate. Her body released its tension. She had spent weeks working out the plan, consulting with Luke and the other pilots, Han, Rieekan, and even Mon Mothma. She was prepared. Informed. Ready to build on resources and strengths that will serve them in the long run, maybe even after the war. That was the ultimate goal. To reinstate and rebuild a government that truly represented the beings of the galaxy. It was her father's dream and Leia would make it a reality.
It had been a long time since she felt this energized. Almost electric. It was cell memory come to life. Something she feared was lost.
Luke jumped in to help when needed, usually answering a technical or mechanical question, without missing a beat. They made a good team.
He had a natural ease about him. Despite growing up in near isolation on a desert planet, he was relaxed in front of the gathered leaders. He didn't see any reason to be intimidated. He was confident in his abilities and their plan. She could be hard-lined. Present the data. Provide expected costs and outcomes. Get them to the finish line. Luke—the hero of Yavin, the destroyer of battle stations, the last of the Jedi—filled in all blanks for anyone who needed that additional proof.
Of course, Luke still had an abundance of his farm boy energy. All of which was on full display as he bounded to her side at the end of the meeting.
"That was amazing. You were amazing." His blue eyes practically sparkled. He put his hands on his hips, trying to look calm and professional when she knew he wanted to wrap her in a tight hug.
She laughed and shook her head. His enthusiasm could be contagious. He should be the Rebel's recruitment icon, not her.
"I mean it. You didn't take crap from anyone." He kept his voice low. Luke didn't want to offend anyone within earshot, no matter how excited he was. "And got the proposal passed no problem."
"There were a few problems." She didn't have to nod to Galadotte and Fron to make her point. "Our delegates from Pynterra had a few other ideas."
Luke shrugged and smiled. "You handled it well. Han would have threatened to shoot them two minutes in."
She smiled back at Luke. He had quickly adopted his fellow Rebels as his new family with Captain Solo taking on the role of cranky older brother. For that stretch after Yavin, when they were first on the move and trying to reassemble the fleet and find a new base, she thought Luke was forcing the issue. The older pilot was aloof, largely reserved, and claimed utter independence from all beings and organizations. But months later she could see the natural fit between the two men. Han would never admit it but she guessed he was just as happy to have a little brother to boss around.
"I know them well. My father had a lot of dealings with Galadotte and King Jahn." Leia looked away. She felt a sudden rush of emotions she needed to tamp down. "And others. It's complicated."
She didn't feel like explaining it all to Luke. The inner workings of the Elder Houses seemed very removed from this reality. The idea of maintaining royal protocols, the polite diplomacy that governed the Houses, seemed irrelevant when in the midst of war.
"Come on." Luke shoved his hands in his pockets but couldn't control the slight bounce in his stance. "Han's got dinner on the Falcon."
"I still need to talk to a few people here." She glanced quickly at her datapad and notes. "Go ahead. Maybe I will come by later."
"Nah." Luke laughed. "I know what that means. I'll wait."
Leia turned to talk to Mon Mothma, wanting to catch the Chancellor before she left the room. She soon found herself huddled in conversation with Mothma and General Dodonna, discussing what would happen next and trying not to feel excited by the turn of events. She could see Luke waiting patiently at the side of the room.
Leia was grateful to have Luke working with her on this project, on any project, but she had to be careful. She got the sense that Luke had a particular partnership in mind. He hadn't said anything or made any kind of real move but she knew that look. She enjoyed his company, often sought him out, felt like she'd known him for years instead of months, and that level of interaction was all she desired. Period.
She had never been particularly interested in romantic relationships and any attempts made fizzled out fast, largely because that was exactly how she wanted it. Short intense bursts, quick distractions, easy tension release. There were a few missteps but she had always managed to end things well and with no hard feelings. She definitely wanted to avoid anything with Luke that might cause issues and short, intense bursts didn't really seem like his style.
Luke was at her side again, his hand gently cupping her upper arm as soon as she was free.
"Enough excuses." He smiled when she rolled her eyes. "Come with me. Wedge is going to be there, too. We can start working out the training schedule."
Leia put her datapad and notes into her satchel then followed Luke out of the room.
"You were that certain we'd be successful?"
He bumped her shoulder with his. "Of course. I had no doubts you'd pull it off."
"I'm not sure if that reflects blind faith in me or a deep ignorance in how these things actually work."
"Probably a little of both."
Despite the conflicts and posturing during the meeting, Luke was right. It had all worked out. It was a feeling she barely recognized anymore but Leia was in a good mood. There was a spark of hope again. She didn't feel the tight band around her chest that had been in place since the Death Star. It was her first hint that there might be a way out. Maybe even she deserved a night of drinks and comradery. Leia briefly wondered if she even remembered how.
"Remind me again how you talked me into including Captain Solo." She dodged around a group of Rebels. They were bunched together, talking and laughing, enjoying a reunion in the middle of the corridor.
"Because he'll do a great job. He taught me a lot after Yavin. I had no idea how to command a squadron or even what a flight pattern was. Really helped a lot with running sims, developing scenarios. Might as well get paid for it."
Leia stepped out of the way to let another group pass. She often felt a rush of pride when she saw all these beings together. Some High Command members thought the chaotic mess of mix-and-match uniforms and patched together equipment damaged morale. They didn't look like an army. Even the Lumen had seen better days and probably would have been decommissioned if they didn't need every available ship.
The Rebellion didn't have the credits for the sleek design of the Imperial forces. In theory, Leia was wealthy but she had no access to funds to help the Alliance or the Alderaan refugees. While they were grateful for the rise in support, they had more members than resources. A good problem to have until they were in battle and didn't have enough helmets and blasters. Most wore the clothes they arrived in. Some flew their own ships. There were a few who even acquired their own weapons. But they were all fighting together. Her father should have been here to see it. He made this happen.
"I'm surprised he doesn't charge us double."
Luke laughed but didn't respond to her comment. Leia wondered if he knew something that she didn't.
She and Solo had a slightly aggravated relationship. They mostly bickered, sometimes outright argued, yet they had a grudging respect for one another. She found herself drawn to him in unexpected ways. He could be endlessly frustrating, reckless and brave. He didn't plan on staying long, everyone other than Luke was surprised he was still there, but he was making solid contributions to the cause in the meantime. Charging them, of course, but he wasn't going to get rich on the Rebels' payroll.
"He's got all that Imperial pilot training." Luke waved or nodded as they passed people. She didn't know if he knew them or was just politely acknowledging everyone who smiled at him. People showed her respect. Nodded. Sometimes bowed. She never got the smile and wave. "Then all those years of smuggling and evading. Han's got a crazy move for every scenario."
"I'm sure he does." Leia smiled and gave Luke's shoulder a quick bump. "I have to admit, I like imagining the level of chaos he brought to the Imperial Navy. If he stayed, maybe he could have brought the Empire down all on his own from the inside."
"If you tell him that, he'll think it's a compliment."
"He thinks everything is a compliment."
Luke threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her in for a side hug. Leia let Luke keep his arm in place for several moments, enjoying his warmth, before pulling away.
There was lot more activity aboard the Falcon than Leia expected. Wedge and Han were engaged in a loud conversation about restoring Corellian freighters to their former glory. Two other members of Rogue Squadron, Wes Janson and Tycho Celchu, and Cyn Onorux, who worked in the communications unit, were questioning if former glory and Corellian freighter could be used in the same sentence. Chewbacca sat off to the side, looking ready to pounce on anyone who took the insults too far.
"That seem wise, Solo?" Wes slapped Han's shoulder. "One more modification and this bucket could blow."
Han pushed Wes' hand off. "You're missing the point. The Falcon is a classic. Nothing compares to the YT-1300."
Tycho laughed. "But not for the reasons you think."
Everyone other than Han shouted hello to Luke and mumbled, Your Highness, to Leia before turning back to the conversation. Luke plopped down on the games table bench beside Cyn.
"You arrived just in time, Commander." Cyn smiled at him. "Solo and Antilles might need some rescuing. They're drowning in Corellian nostalgia."
Leia barely knew Lieutenant Onorux, even though they often worked side-by-side in the Command Centre. Cyn seemed friendly and was very capable at her job but Leia wasn't great with chit chat these days. She used to make a point of knowing small details, at least, about the people around her. Again, that was the pre-war, still had a planet and a family Leia. Things changed.
She had developed a reputation, one that would not make her parents proud, of not being approachable. It wasn't something she purposefully cultivated. Leia didn't wake up the morning after the medal ceremony and declare, No more small talk! But she also didn't try to fix it when she realized people were avoiding her. And she didn't fight the feeling of relief that came with it.
"Appreciating quality ain't nostalgia." Han gave Cyn an almost sneer. "Always got my eye out for things to fix her up."
Luke reached for one of the packets of nuts on the table. Leia recognized them from a supply run a few months back. They quickly became a hot commodity for a group with very few luxuries. She hadn't seen a packet in weeks and wondered if the captain was holding some in reserve.
Luke opened the packet and offered them first to Cyn, who took one, and then Leia, who refused. She smiled again thinking of Luke's ease in almost any environment. He absorbed the energy of a room and made it his own.
"The guy I got her from didn't appreciate what he had. Not complaining about some changes he made. Water shower's a good thing and the extra wide bunk comes in handy."
Leia expected a wink to follow that comment, one of those quick innuendos he was so fond of, but he didn't even look her way.
"He pulled out anything he didn't think was slick. Replaced it with whatever was shiny and new." Han couldn't hide his contempt. Chewie grunted and crossed his arms. They really were in sync sometimes. "So, we fix up shit when we can. Replace it with something useful or an original piece if we get our hands on one."
Leia had heard all this before. She knew about the walk-in closet that was now extra storage. The wet bar they converted into a small, very small, galley tucked into the far side of the main hold and lounge area. The room halfway set up as a sauna that now kept a few cots for extra passengers on missions. Han tried to charge them extra for overnight accommodations but she insisted she didn't need sleep and he stopped including it on invoices.
"Just to clarify." Leia leaned against the side of the bench next to Luke. "You're claiming that this is the fixed-up version."
"Don't get so high and mighty, Princess." He winked at her. "You like the ride. Admit it."
And he's back! Leia rolled her eyes.
"Not a lot of original parts out there now." Wedge grabbed the packet of nuts from Luke. "The Falcon is beyond vintage at this point."
"Where's your Corellian loyalty?" Han grabbed the packet and handed it to Chewie. "You got no home planet pride?"
"I thought you hated Corellia." Luke took the packet back from Chewie. "Said you wouldn't go back to that hellscape for a million credits."
"Doesn't mean I don't appreciate fine craftsmanship that comes out of there." He held his arms wide, cocked his head, so everyone knew he was talking about more than ship design.
Leia suspected, since Han also wore Corellian bloodstripes as a part of his everyday uniform, that his relationship with his home planet was complicated.
Chewbacca let out a soft growl and nodded to Luke and Leia. Luke cocked his head in reply.
"Sorry?"
"He says there's food."
"Oh great." Leia realized she was starving. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and that felt like days ago. Or maybe that was breakfast days ago? She put a hand on Luke's shoulder. "I'll get it."
Han stood up. "Don't worry, Princess."
"I'm perfectly capable of getting some food."
"I don't know." He flashed her a grin and raised a hand over his head. "We keep the bowls pretty high."
She had a clear shot and considered jabbing him in the ribs but took the high road. Without even a roll of her eyes, she passed him and walked to the galley. It was only about fifteen feet away from the bench and games table but felt like a separate room.
He wasn't lying. She would have had trouble reaching the bowls. She gave a quick nod of thanks when Han, standing rather close behind, handed them to her. He leaned against the counter as she ladled stew into the bowls.
"So, your Worship, you got some work for me?"
She gave a small shake of her head. She tried to not react when he threw in those little digs at her title but it was too grating to ignore. She put down one bowl and started filling the next.
"It's a commitment. A few months at least. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"Credits are credits." He moved to the side so she could grab spoons. "And there's still time to get in some runs. Pick up other work."
"Of course. We wouldn't want to take up too much of your attention."
"Say the word, Sweetheart, and I'll give you all the attention you want."
She narrowed her eyes at him. Supressed an almost chuckle. Despite her better judgement, he made her laugh. He liked to poke at her and also liked it if she poked back.
"Not sure I can afford that expense."
"Nah. I'll throw it in for free."
She shook her head again but this time she laughed. "This really is my lucky day."
He grabbed two more bottles of ale from the cooler unit and followed her back into the lounge.
The conversation was lively and, at times, unwieldy. They discussed the recruit training plan but often veered in other directions. Wedge regaled them with a Rogue prank that went widely off the rails and Wes tried to deny at every turn. Cyn entertained them with stories of certain members of command who spent a bit too much time hitting on the nurses and med techs. She refused to name names but Leia knew Fron had to be one of them. He was a fair bit older than her but she was only sixteen the first time he offered to show her the galaxy from his private cruiser.
She watched Wes palm one of the packets still sitting in the center of the table and slide it off the side. He thought no one noticed and Leia considered if and how she should call him out. Not long after, as Luke launched into a story about being chased out of some place called Anchorhead by a group of children, she saw Wes do the same thing again. Palmed a packet and slid it off the table, leaving two behind.
Leia tried to remember how many packets there were. There should have been two left when Wes went back for more not three.
"You ran away from kids?" Wedge leaned across the table and narrowed his eyes. "You're commander of a squadron fighting the Imperial forces and you were scared by a bunch of kids?"
"They were tougher than you think." Luke was defending himself but wasn't defensive. He saw the joke in it. "And there were a lot of them."
"You wouldn't've stood a chance against me as kid."
"Have you mellowed out, Captain Solo?" Leia cocked her head to the side, feigning innocence.
"You got no idea, Sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow and she gave a small laugh.
Leia didn't offer up a story of her own. She was enjoying herself but didn't feel entirely a part of this larger group. She knew it must have been slightly unnerving to go for a casual night on the Falcon and end up drinking with the Princess.
Chewie reached over to ruffle Luke's hair. [You got some work ahead of you, Jedi.]
Luke tried to shrug the Wookiee off, straighten his hair, but still looked pleased at being singled out. "Hey!"
"He says he thought Jedis would be tougher."
"This all happened before I'd even heard of the Force or that I had a connection to it." Luke looked at Chewie to respond, despite Han having provided the translation. "Besides, I know I've got a long way to go."
"You should be training with your lightsaber." Tycho gave the table a quick rap of his knuckles. "We could combine it with my target practice."
There was a rush of voices agreeing and disagreeing with Tycho's plan to shoot blaster bolts at Luke. Luke, surprisingly, was on the pro-side.
When Leia looked back at the table, there were three packets of nuts again.
The conversation moved back to X-Wings, maintenance and upgrades. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, even Cyn knew a surprising amount about fighter engines. Leia found herself laughing and occasionally shouting, pushing to be heard over the other voices. Usually Han's. They were still on Alliance business, technically her business, but the evening was the polar opposite of the day's meeting. She was enjoying herself.
It would be hard for anyone gathered that night, or frankly almost anyone in the Alliance, to believe but there was a time when she allowed other things into her life. Other people. When there was more to her than anger and unwavering determination. There was a time when she also knew how to let her breath out. Breathe.
Since Alderaan, she'd barely managed more than a few hours of sleep in a row. A medic gave her sleeping pills but her anxiety was too high. Too worried she would sleep through an emergency or be too groggy to react. She tried drinking. Not to get drunk but a few drinks to calm her nerves. Then she made the mistake of taking half a pill and a couple of drinks and it was like she was trapped in her own body when the nightmares came. She couldn't fully wake up and she couldn't escape the sound of Vader's breathing and the sight of her home world exploding in front of her over and over.
Saiira thought the nightmares plagued her because she refused to talk about her grief. Pushing it down meant it had to come up somewhere else. But she wasn't ignoring it. It was with her constantly. All the lives lost. All the lives she was responsible for. She kept it inside, even it if sometimes felt like she was drowning, because that meant it was contained. She had control.
Leia's eyes refocused on the room around her and caught sight of Wes as he made his move on another packet. No one else was paying attention to him as slowly confiscated his prize.
Wes was drinking something out of his canteen that Leia hoped wasn't fuel but smelled a lot like it. He was certainly more drunk than the rest of them but didn't seem out of it. Her mother would have said he was in his cups. She wondered if he noticed it was the same packet returning or if he thought he was suddenly rich.
"What do you think?"
She felt Luke nudge her and realized she had completely misplaced the thread of the conversation.
"Sorry?"
"Is it worth it to upgrade the X-Wings to new TR-7 model?"
"Don't ask her!" Han, standing in the galley again, raised his voice so they would hear. "She's going to answer based on budget not speed."
"Why wouldn't I care about speed?" Leia sounded almost offended. "We still have to outrun the Empire sometimes."
Han walked slowly back to the table with another bottle of ale and a glass of whisky. He didn't quite swagger but moved like he knew everyone was watching. He sat down and leaned forward, holding the bottle out to Leia.
"I thought you liked it more when we rushed straight at them." His voice was low and meant only for her.
"Depends on who is doing the rushing."
"That's my cue to head out." Cyn nodded to Wes, indicating he should move to let her out. "I've got the early shift. Wouldn't want to be late."
Wes stood up and stretched. "Maybe it's time for me to call it, too. C'mon, Cyn, I can walk you back to your quarters."
She didn't quite sigh but gave Wes a slight, exasperated look. "Don't worry about it, Janson. I can find my way all on my own."
Han leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink, barely acknowledging Cyn and Wes' departure. He wasn't ready to give up the X-Wing conversation yet.
"There's no way your piss-poor rebellion is gonna fork out that much cash even for one of those babies."
"Maybe you could lower your price. Free up some of that budget."
Han raised his finger, ready to make a point, when Wedge pulled himself on to the back of the bench and swung his legs around. He looked like he was exiting his X-Wing.
"I'm heading out, too. Thanks again for dinner."
There was more general chaos as Tycho and Luke also stood and Leia slid farther into the bench.
Luke gave Chewie a quick hug then turned to Leia. "You coming?"
She held up her bottle. "Might as well finish what I started."
"Okay." Luke gave a quick wave. "See you guys in the morning."
The Rogues walked out as Chewie sat on the bench beside Leia and launched into a story about Han flying the Falcon through an electric storm.
Han was being a very unreliable translator, which was endlessly frustrating for Chewie and highly amusing for Leia. He groaned and protested, claiming Chewie was exaggerating and that's not how it happened. In that moment, Leia didn't care what was true. She was laughing and distracted. She still felt the glow from her earlier successes, the reminder of that inner strength that used to push her forward. When she had some say in her own destiny.
By the time Chewie said goodnight, she was curled into the back curve of the bench, feeling lazy and relaxed. She was still working on her second bottle of ale, mostly twirling it on the tabletop with both her hands. Han was leaning back with his legs stretched out in the space in front of her.
"Can I ask you a question?" She titled her head as she looked at him.
He let out a long, deep, exaggerated sigh. "Sure."
"How did you get that packet back without Janson noticing? He wasn't that drunk."
He lowered his eyelids to examine her. "No idea what you're talking about."
She sat up straighter. "You picked his pocket, multiple times, and I want to know how."
He stared at her, expressionless for a few moments, then slowly raised a corner of his mouth into a half-smile.
"Sure, Sweetheart. I can teach you a trick or two."
He patted the bench beside him and she inched closer.
"The most important part is picking the right mark. Distracted and drunk helps." He held out his hand, palm side up, and nodded to indicate she should do the same. "You need to be quick and confident in your moves. They catch you when you hesitate."
He passed his hand, now palm side down, swiftly over hers. She felt the slightest skin-to-skin contact. If she hadn't seen it she would have thought it a light breeze. Or what one of her aunts would have called a ghostly presence.
Han flipped his hand back over and waited for Leia to try. She moved her hand over, bumping palms and definitely making contact.
"You're gonna need a lot of practice." He flipped her hand over and did it again. It was such a small and simple gesture yet somehow mesmerized her. He was surprisingly agile. "But you're little so you could be a natural. You'll have to work at the disappearing into a crowd. You draw too much attention to yourself."
"Do you somehow see yourself as subtle?"
He laughed. His cheeks got a slight ruddy glow when it was a genuine laugh.
"Haven't done much of this in a while. There was time, though, when I could rake a lot in."
"Where did you learn how to do this?"
He took another sip, looking away only briefly before catching her eyes again. He remained silent.
"You know, sometimes I think you're going to talk." Her gaze was soft, questioning. "The words are right there. Waiting to get out. But then, nothing."
He gave a half-smile. Or maybe it was a half-smirk. She wasn't sure she knew the difference with him.
"Give it a try. Go for the light and quick approach." He spread both his arms out on the back of the bench, giving her full access to his vest and many pockets.
Leia kept eye contact with him but reached into one of the lower pockets on his vest. She pulled out a couple of datachips and held them up.
"Did you feel that?"
He nodded with slight leer. "Oh, yeah. I felt it."
She shook her head. Tried not to laugh. "What are they?"
"ID codes for transponders."
"This is disappointing." She leaned back in her seat. "I was hoping for something more risqué."
Han laughed. "Like what? Lingerie?"
"Exactly. Or a condom. Porn. Something illicit."
"You hoped I had porn in my pocket?"
"I was hoping for something less work related."
"This is how rumours get started, Princess."
She squinted at him. "No. I'm going to trust my instincts on this one. You're definitely hiding something."
"Sweetheart, I'm an open book."
She laughed. "Of course. That's exactly how I would describe you."
For a few moments, there was a stand-off. They stared at each other, careful not to smile or look away.
Leia knew she was crossing a line, a boundary she had firmly put in place between her and every other living being. She used to be more assertive about taking things for herself. Small moments to feed her through long stretches of public service and royal duties. She liked this attention. The way he assessed her. Stayed aloof but listened to her every word. Nothing got by him. She could almost see him breathing it all in.
"You know." She turned to face him, tucking her legs beneath her. "They've asked me to join High Command."
"You don't say." He cocked his head slightly. "That mean you're moving to the safe houses? Gonna carry you around on one of those big chairs?"
"It means I have more meetings."
He laughed. "So, I guess congratulations?"
"We haven't worked out all the details but I said I wouldn't give up field work or running missions. I still want to be directly involved. Mon understood and didn't argue against that point. She sees the importance in it." She broke out into a wide smile. "General Dodonna was not as pleased with the double duty but he'll get used to it. I think he wanted me on High Command to keep me safely indoors."
Han lifted up his glass of whisky. "Here's to you, Princess. Betting you're about to make all their lives hell." He noticed the furrow of her brow. "Mean that in a good way. You won't let them get away with nothing."
She lifted up her bottle to match his and they both drank.
Leia made herself more comfortable on the bench. "You might have enjoyed the meeting today."
"Not likely."
"I don't know. We made a few people squirm. I mean that in a good way, of course."
He leaned back, stretched his arms across the back of the bench. "Of course."
Leia told her story. Described the room, how some of the leaders vied for the best seating, tried to dominate the conversation when they had nothing to say. She imitated Galadotte and Fron, puffing up her chest, delivered their lines in a gruff and arrogant voice. Repeated some of the more ridiculous questions they were asked and Luke's kindly but dismissive responses. He didn't understand diplomacy, said the first thing that came into his head, and he somehow always seemed charmingly befuddled and not rude.
Han laughed. Head dropped back, hand on stomach, eyes scrunched shut kind of laugh. He lost some of his practiced cool and was genuinely enjoying himself. For some reason, Leia was excited by this response. She had broken through. There was a crack in his façade. Maybe her good mood was contagious. Or maybe this was her sleight of hand. A power she didn't know she possessed until she made a cynical, don't reveal a thing, only in it for himself space pirate fall into unabashed laughter.
"This might call for a new one." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"A new one?"
"Gonna have to think this through." He narrowed his eyes to examine her. "High Commandness? Highness of Command? No, that's not right. Commandtrix? Yeah. That might be the one."
She smiled and shook her head. "The worst part is I walked right into that one."
That's when the evening veered. He suddenly, or at least that's what Leia told herself when she thought about it afterward, leaned forward and spoke in a soft voice. She didn't even know his voice could be that soft.
"Hey."
And when she cocked her head to look at him, he kissed her.
It was a single, gentle, testing the waters kiss. When they parted, she didn't say anything, didn't break away.
She was breathing deeply. Her lips were slightly parted and when she did close them it was to lightly bite her bottom lip. He put a hand under her chin and kissed her again.
It was a longer, deeper kiss. His hand gently stroked her cheek and jawline. He ran his fingers down her neck and along her collar bone. Her hand reached up to the back of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair. Her other hand took hold of his shirt. Their kisses remained soft, slow, with only a touch of tongue.
"You taste like whisky," she said and ran her thumb along his jawline.
He gave her a small half smile before kissing her again, flicking his tongue softly against hers. He ran the back of his hand along her jaw and neck, past her collarbone.
Leia arched her back, pressing herself against him. She pulled him in for a deeper, longer, more intense kiss and he released a low, almost inaudible, moan.
She was lost in it, carried away. They weren't rushed or pushing for more. They simply moved in sync, gave easy caresses. She noted that the palms of his hands were rough as they cupped her cheeks but the backs were soft as they ran along her neck. When his tongue touched her lips, darting and quickly retreating then repeating the action, she felt a sharp thrill. He was responding to her movements.
Leia didn't know how long it lasted and wondered how long it might have gone on for if Chewie hadn't walked into the lounge. They pulled away from each other, pausing a few inches apart to assess the situation and each other. She was the one to sit up straight, drop her hands first.
She said, "I should go" but was thinking, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Han kept his position, continued to stare then nodded once.
She maintained her calm as she slid to the edge of the bench and stood up. She sounded like herself as she thanked Chewie for dinner again and walked down the ramp. She waited until she heard the ship seal behind her before picking up her pace. By the time she reached her quarters, she was practically running.