At the Kyrosian medcenter Gaile embraced them both. She chattered excitedly as she opened the case and handed the vials off one by one to an assistant.
"He did wonderfully, wonderfully," she enthused. "Everything we needed along with a little extra of the broad-spectrum antibiotics. We could have used a few more doses of resilivar, but I won't be picky." She turned to Leia and Han, her face beaming. "I don't know how to thank you."
"We were happy to do it," Leia replied. "I'm relieved the patients can be treated."
"We'll start diluting them now," Gaile said, picking through the crate. "The first doses can be given in a few hours." She closed the case. "Did you happen to meet him, the factory manager? I've only communicated with him via comm."
"We did meet him," Leia nodded. "We expressed your gratitude, and ours."
"Good, good." Gaile beamed again. "I'll wait a bit before contacting him again provided things don't get worse here. I don't want to risk him being exposed to the authorities."
"The Alliance can also try to find another supplier," Leia said quickly. "We'll reach out to our informants in nearby systems and see what we can come up with." Before Gaile could respond, she added, "May I visit some of the patients?"
Han hung back as Gaile led Leia through the facility. With nothing in particular to do he found himself studying the mechanical fixtures in the auto-dilution machine that looked to be on its last legs. The vials from Silas were inserted into a narrow opening and once inside were drained and mixed with saline solutions. A nurse fed the ingredients in and collected the output in sanitized flasks that she labelled and put aside.
"Looks like some of the interior parts could use a little lubrication," Han told the nurse.
She smiled tiredly at him. "We'll get right on that."
Han gave up and wandered to the corridor. Leia was striding in and out of rooms, clasping hands and offering smiles, a fount of compassionate energy that Han envied.
He followed her to the children's ward where she made a beeline for the baby she had held on their previous visit. She lifted him up and swung him gently before settling him in her arms.
"He looks even healthier," Leia pronounced happily.
"Babies heal fast," Gaile said. "Infection never set in so he'll be transferred to the orphanage in another day or two." Han recognized yet again the cautious expression of someone confronting long odds. "If you know anyone who might like to adopt..."
"Oh!" said Leia. "Well –" She turned and looked at Han a bit helplessly.
Han came up behind her and Gaile. "I'm not sure anyone we know is in a position to do that right now, but we'll keep our ears open."
"Of course," Gaile nodded. She took the baby from Leia, laid him down in his crib, and ran a quick scan of his vitals.
"What's his name?" Leia asked suddenly.
"We call him Arman." Gaile trapped a squirmy limb in order to investigate a scabbed-over fissure. "It means strong one."
Leia stroked his head. "I hope he continues to live up to it." She gave him a final pat. "Good-bye, Arman. May our paths cross again."
After her near giddiness in the medcenter, Leia's mood flipped to quiet distraction when they returned to the Falcon. On past trips she frequently offered to help with the pre-flight checks and procedures even though Han had the routine down cold on his own. This time, however, she disappeared somewhere on the ship and between preparing to jump with a wobbly hyperdrive and nailing down all the other systems Han didn't have a chance to track her down.
Once they took off she materialized back in the cockpit with her comm, finishing up the tail end of a conversation with Mon. Appearing preoccupied, she sat in the co-pilot's seat without saying anything and stared vacantly out the viewport, her mind clearly elsewhere. Next to her Han busied himself with updating the navicomputer, a tedious process he loathed.
After twenty minutes of near silence, he was forced to admit she was starting to drive him crazy. Normally he would have left her to herself, his work in the cockpit nearly complete, but he was reluctant to desert her in this state.
"You okay?" he grunted.
Leia delayed looking at him as if her reactions had slowed to the point of lethargy. "I am, yes."
"You've just – been a little quiet. A lot quiet, actually."
He watched her twist the ends of her makeshift belt around her fingers. "I'm fine," she said.
Han nodded to himself. "I bet Mon was pleased with the outcome. You can gain more of a foothold in that sector now that you've established an ally."
"That's right," Leia agreed. She sat up a little straighter. "We'll use this experience to widen our scope of operations and expand infiltration of Imperial-run industries to the benefit of those without the resources to help themselves. Even small actions can sway a regime that might be deciding between the Empire and the rebellion."
"Sounds like a new Alliance mission statement," Han said drily.
The joke was lost on her. "Perhaps."
Meaningful conversation seemed futile at this point. Han glared at the slow progress of the navicomputer and mentally tallied the remaining tasks waiting for him in the engine room.
"Do you think either of them made it off Bessos?" Leia asked suddenly.
Han avoided her question by re-checking the shield effectiveness ratios. "Maybe," he said. He told himself optimism wasn't necessarily the same as lying. "Silas is smart. Louis too, I'm sure. They probably have a decent shot."
"You don't really believe that." Her tone was faintly accusatory.
"I'd like to."
"It was good of Silas to do it."
It's what you wanted, wasn't it? Han thought. But instead he said, "Lives have been saved."
"At a price," she said quietly.
"Well, yes."
There was always a price, always. Maybe he should have found a way to tell her that a day ago. He could have marshalled a stronger argument, reminded her that nothing ever comes free in the galaxy, used the painful lessons from his own experience against the force of her will.
But he knew it wouldn't have made a difference. They would have still ended up in the same place.
"It was good of him to do it," Leia said again.
She left to go sit in the booth. Han worried she was slipping away from him, chasing a moral calculus that would always favor the many over the few, the needs of others over the needs of one. It felt like a step backwards, a retreat from the slow, careful progress they had made on this trip. And yet he lacked the vocabulary and perhaps even the certitude to convince her otherwise. Who was he to compete with the orphaned, the injured, the lame? For a split second he despised Silas for setting the example, Silas who had made the same decision Leia would have made despite the likely destruction of his love.
Eventually he stood and wandered out of the cockpit, unsure of where to go or what to do. Leia was still at the table. Watching her, Han tried to pretend she was a stranger, an anonymous spacer he had never met before today.
She looked up from her datapad. "Aren't you going to sit?"
Han blinked, and in the resulting clarity Leia, the real Leia whom he had known for what felt like forever, came rushing back. With those words the hopes he had begun to entertain for their future began to seem possible again. It might have been wishful thinking on his part but perhaps wishful thinking was a fine and dandy strategy given the circumstances.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'll sit."
She smiled her familiar smile and leaned against his side as she refocused on her report. The backs of her fingers rested against the rungs of bloodstripes that ran along his thigh. Han thought about all the times they had sat here in the booth, alone or with others, and how they had touched but never lingered. He watched as she read, her forehead furrowed slightly, her lips pursed half-open on the precipice of making out the words. He thought about his past life without her and how he couldn't remember if he had been happy or not and how it didn't really matter either way. He thought about the difficult decisions they would face that had the potential to knock their lives off course despite whatever good intentions they harbored individually.
And then he stopped thinking.
"Leia."
"Hmm?" She was a moment turning toward him, intent on the dispatch on her screen.
He didn't give either of them a chance to retreat. He cradled her face and brushed his thumb along her cheek once, just once, before leaning down. Their lips met softly and drew apart and came together again. He kissed her slowly, drawing her lower lip gently between his.
When they parted she gazed up at him wide-eyed. "I was wondering when you were going to do that."
He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Been thinking about it for a while."
She reached up and thumbed the soft spiky hairs just north of his temple. "It will be nice when it grows long again," she murmured. "But it'll do for now."
"Something to look forward to," he suggested.
"Among other things."
That was an invitation if he ever heard one. This time she met him halfway and tightened her hand on his head when he flicked his tongue between her lips. They kissed deeply, their fingers brushing from face to neck and dipping lower in tentative exploration before returning to safer territory.
"I haven't thought much further ahead," he blurted out when they separated. He wasn't sure what made him say that; it was both true and not true. No stranger to unrequited longing, he certainly had plans for her – for them – when they were ready.
She seemed to accept his sentiment as it was and leaned her head under his shoulder. "We don't have to plan," she said softly. "Not this time."
Han kissed the top of her head and stroked her back, trying to convey through touch what words he may have lacked. "Not saying I don't want to not plan."
Leia tilted her head up. "I know," she nodded. "But I'm good like this right now."
His fingers encountered a shield of hairpins at the base of her skull. "Want me to take these out?"
She nodded and dipped her head so he could reach. He withdrew the pins one by one and placed them on the table. When he was finished, he fanned her hair and massaged where the pins had been.
"I like it like this," he murmured. "Down and loose."
"Give yourself another twenty years and you too can experience it."
"Wouldn't look as good on me." She was relaxed and happy so he kissed her again, resisting the temptation to press her into the booth. He ran hot for her, a few small tastes enough to spur his appetite for more.
"How about some food," he proposed, mostly as a way to hold himself back. "You stay here and I'll scrounge something up."
"I thought you were low on supplies," she teased.
"For a princess, yes," he admitted. "But for Rosey-Posey – I'm sure I can find something she'll like."
Leia laughed. "Are you going to call me that when we get back to the fleet?"
"Nah." He had no idea what things would look like back at the fleet but anticipated both forward and backward steps when it came to the two of them figuring this out. "How 'bout if I just call you –"
She interrupted him. "Princess? Sweetheart? Your Worship?"
"Nah," Han grinned. "I'll just call you Leia."