A/N: You might be thinking, "I could have sworn that this story wasn't going to be updated for like five weeks because WalkAwayTall had some life stuff to deal with and we were all going to graciously wait that long for the next installment because we are wonderful and encouraging readers." and you aren't wrong but...more life stuff happened that put the other life stuff on hold, which freed up some time for me, and also I started writing this chapter thinking I was going to drop in some actiony sequences that I had written up months ago, and it ended up being nearly 8000 words of dialogue and introspection with exactly 0% of the things I had planned to put in it, so it almost feels like a bonus chapter or something.
I think its existence is still important to establish a few things, so it stays in the main story. But it also feels weird to sit on it for weeks just so we can reach an arbitrary date on the calendar, especially when none of the stuff I had planned for it ended up happening in it.
There were hundreds of moons in front of them. Leia tilted her head slightly, looking for the planet at the center of the swirling mass. "Do you think there are really a thousand?" she asked faintly.
"I know there are exactly a thousand and fourteen," Han said, confidence evident in his tone. "Counted 'em on the chart last night."
"Are all of your hobbies so breathtakingly exciting?" she deadpanned, still staring at the massive quantity of moons, all dancing in perfect, dizzying synchronicity around the planet Iego. She tore her gaze away from the viewport to look at Han. "Or do we need to start giving you assignments in the evening as well to keep you occupied?"
He rolled his eyes and smirked. "It was part of this assignment, Princess," he said, mild defensiveness seeping into his tone.
"Counting the moons?" Leia said wryly.
"Needed a way to keep track of 'em so I can plan a route so we don't land on the same one over and over. Only way to do that was numbering 'em, which is functionally the same as countin'."
"Oh. Right."
"Only eight hundred an' twenty-seven are big enough to be of any use to us, though."
"Only," Leia said sarcastically.
"And I'm not convinced all of 'em have atmo, no matter what your scouts said."
Leia hesitated briefly. The official mission briefing had been so last-minute, it had been over before Han saw the message about it. Leia's unofficial recap of the briefing given as they rushed to prepare the ship to leave hadn't been entirely comprehensive. "Our scouts wouldn't take this assignment," she admitted. "Said we'd have to be crazy to try it."
Han stared at her for a moment and Leia averted her eyes back out the window. "You don't think that information might've been important enough to talk about in the briefing?"
[As if that would have deterred you,] Chewie barked.
Leia saw Han scowl out of the corner of her eye. "Maybe not, but I'd still like to know what names they're callin' us."
Leia rolled her eyes. "The scouts think all pathfinders are crazy. This mission just….confirms it."
Han pulled out his star chart for the Slice and turned it on, his chair swiveled so the projection was between them. Leia had to look away after only seconds. Watching the star chart move with the real moons visible in the window behind the projection made her dizzy.
"So, we need enough space for a fueling station. Maybe enough space for refugees." He glanced at Leia with eyebrows raised. She nodded in confirmation. If they found a moon that was suitable, it seemed logical — the sheer complexity of landing would likely keep the Empire away for a good long while. That was the hope for the fueling station as well; they needed a spot that could accept a lot of traffic without drawing attention. Hiding amidst a thousand moons and the ships that might have business on any one of them was almost ideal, if it weren't for the issue of landing in the right spot.
Han gestured for to her to stand near him with two fingers, apparently understanding why she couldn't look at the chart from where she sat. She followed his lead, standing next to his seat with her back to the Falcon's controls and the viewport. Only the star chart hovered in her sightline which, while overwhelming, didn't make her head spin.
Leia saw some handwritten notes on the projection, apparently added by Han: every moon was numbered as he had promised, but a handful of them had words scribbled on them carelessly as well. The General - 7, The Kid - 2, W. C. - 11, Worship - 10, H. H. - 9, Princess - 1, Slick - 8, F. B. - 6, A. - 3, Malla - 4, Lumpy - 5, Jaina - 12.
"What are these?" she murmured, a smile forming on her lips. She had an idea, but she wanted to hear the explanation from him.
He waved her off without looking directly at her, still focused on the chart. "Started naming 'em first before I realized numbers were more practical."
"Who's W.C.?"
Han chuckled and ran his tongue over his teeth before responding. "Thought we could pay homage to one of your more creative moments, sweetheart. Stands for 'Walking Carpet'."
Chewie grumbled something about […no respect…] and […going to check on the others…] as he stood and left the cockpit, focusing his glare on Han as he went.
Leia flicked Han on the side of his neck hard enough to elicit a yelp from the man. "What's that for?" he demanded, rubbing the spot of pink that bloomed on his skin.
"I apologized to him for that before we even left Yavin," she said irritably. "He's never brought it up again, and I still feel bad if I think about it. No one needs to be reminded of how hateful I was in that moment. I was hardly myself."
Han rolled his eyes and finally looked at Leia. "He's fine. He ain't mad at you. And if he's sour about Walking Carpet, he's gonna be even more annoyed with F. B."
"Do I even want to know?"
"Fuzzball. I admit, it's not my best work, but it's his least favorite nickname. I reserve it for real special occasions."
Leia grimaced and pointed at one of the moons. "Lumpy is Lumpawaroo?" Han nodded once without saying anything else. "H. H. I assume is Her Highness."
"-ness," Han added. "Her Highnessness."
Leia rolled her eyes. "You are in a mood to lose every friend you have today, aren't you?" she murmured before pointing again. "Who's Jaina?"
A long pause followed before Han scoffed softly. "See, that's why I stopped. Ran outta ideas quick and started gettin' too sentimental." He fixed his gaze on the chart, making his avoidance of Leia's eyeline entirely obvious. "Jaina's my ma's name."
The cockpit fell into uneasy silence as Leia forced herself to not react too enthusiastically to Han sharing a small bit of his past so willingly. His mother's name, she thought. His mother, who he had once declared probly worth talkin' about and said nothing else about aside from the fact that she was deceased. "It's a pretty name," she said softly.
A small smile appeared on Han's face, though he still stared at the chart rather than looking at Leia. "Yeah, I always thought so."
The silence felt less uneasy, and Leia found herself enthralled by the slow movement of the projected moons. Their sheer quantity reminded her of another star chart, one she hadn't seen in months. She looked at Han again as he crossed through a few of the moons, making shorthand notes that only he would understand. "Is this what Alderaan is like now?" she asked quietly.
Han froze for a brief moment before turning slightly to look at her. He pointed out the window. "This?"
Leia nodded slowly, looking out at the mass of moons before focusing back on their holo counterparts. "It looks almost the same on the charts. The Grave…yard." She furrowed her brow and swallowed hard, some seemingly impossible combination of numbness and quiet fury spreading through her body as she said the name out loud for the first time. All of her muscles tensed involuntarily.
Han shook his head. "No, 't's nothin' like…" He paused, rubbing at his temple with his fingertips. "It might be more like this now. Before, it was chaotic. Felt like we were flyin' through an asteroid field. Things might've fallen into a sort of orbit by now. I dunno. Haven't been there since it first happened."
Leia nodded again, making a decision that she hadn't been able to seriously consider before. "I think, when the war's over and we get the blockade lifted, I want to go see it. Probably just one time."
"Lemme guess: you'll need a pilot?"
She snorted softly, looking down at her boots for a second before lifting her gaze to meet his. "You think you'll be around?"
"No, I'm pretty sure before this war's over, Luke an' Chewie are gonna hafta plan spacer's funerals for our suicidal asses because they won't even have bodies to bury after we do whatever idiotic thing it is that gets you and me killed. Probably won't even be the same idiotic thing, either." Leia laughed sadly at the frank-but-morose outlook on their future. Han paused before continuing. "But, I'm wrong sometimes, usually 'bout once a decade or so, and if this is the thing I'm wrong about this go around…yeah, I'll take you, Leia."
The numbness and fury seemed to melt mostly away. Leia rested her cheek against the side of his chair, ribs feeling crowded by her swelling heart. She bit her lip before smiling at the side of his head. "Thank you, Han."
"Don't thank me yet," he murmured, adding a symbol to another moon. He glanced up at her. "Some of these, I want to leave as last resorts because landing is gonna be risky. Hoping the first six hundred or so offer some options before we have to give these a go."
"If we have to land six hundred times before we find something usable, we may all end up spacing ourselves."
Han chuckled quietly and pointed at the moon labeled Jaina - 12. "Think this makes the most sense for our first try. Good size, relatively isolated from nearby bodies right now, easier to navigate to."
Leia nodded. It didn't really matter to her where they started; the task was to look until they found something suitable, and considering they were going in nearly blind, one moon was as good as another as far as she was concerned. "Whatever you say," she said faintly, wondering if she'd regret the blanket approval later. Han grinned in a way that almost guaranteed she would, but he refrained from preening verbally.
"Chewie," Han called for his copilot using his comm. "We picked one. Princess approves and everything."
Leia sat back in her seat right as Chewie entered the cockpit. [I thought I was Walking Carpet now,] he huffed, bumping into Han in what had to have been a coordinated stumble before taking his seat.
"Everyone got nicknames they hate on the chart," Han said. "You ain't special."
Jaina, Leia realized, was an exception to that, though she thought Luke fairly indifferent to being called the kid, and Carlist probably didn't care that Han stuck the in front of his existing title — it was more a slight toward every other Alliance general around than it was an attempt to irritate Rieekan. And, as far as she knew, Malla and Lumpy were accepted nicknames for Chewie's wife and son. Really, the only ones with nicknames they hated on the chart were Leia and Chewie.
"I had nothing to do with the names, Chewie," Leia assured him.
The Wookiee looked back at her with a small smile, an indication that he was far from actually offended. [I know, Princess. You would never stoop so low.]
Han ignored the dig in favor of matching the correct moon in real space to the one on the holo chart. "Gonna hafta fly in real easy on this one," he said to no one in particular, his voice tinged with a tightness Leia associated with stifled anxiety.
They began their descent, Chewie speaking every once in awhile if Han needed to make an adjustment to their trajectory. He dodged dozens of moons as if keeping clear of looming planetary bodies was second nature, and they were able to land on the twelfth moon Han had named without much more stress than most other landings.
Han touched down in the middle of a field. Leia looked from one end of the viewport to the other, as far as her vision and the transparisteel would allow, and saw nothing but a wide open blue sky and klicks of long, rolling, light pink grass.
[Atmospheric readings seem okay,] Chewie said. [I do not think you will need breath packs.]
"Temperature?" Leia asked, still searching for any sign of life in the grass.
[Twenty-six. Humidity seems tolerable. Overall, it appears very pleasant.]
"Anything living nearby?"
"Our sensors aren't too good for that," Han said.
"Should've brought a droid," Leia murmured, ignoring the offended glare he shot her in response. She stood and nodded, an uneasy feeling about…something…washing over her insides. "Thank you. I imagine we'll disembark soon."
Leia made her way back to the crew cabin where Einara and Naj were pulling on fatigues and shoving supplies into packs. Naj looked up at Leia. "Do we need air tanks?"
Leia shook her head. "Chewie said the atmo seems breathable. Temperature and humidity's pleasant. Didn't see any immediate signs of life nearby, but that's just using my own eyes and the viewport."
"I still think we should stay in the ship overnight," Einara said. "We don't know a kriffing thing about this place."
"You still can. Nihal said we don't all have to go out on each one," Naj said.
"And stay behind with Solo and Chewbacca with nothing to do? No, thanks."
Leia laughed softly as she packed a few stray items from the shelf nearest her bunk and looked at Einara. "Oh, they always have some repair or project to help with if you ask."
"I have. Solo whines about not trusting anyone with his ship the whole time even if Chewbacca gives me something to do. It's worse than being bored."
Leia furrowed her brow slightly. She couldn't recall Han ever complaining about her pitching in to help around the ship, but it had become more and more obvious as of late that privileges she assumed he offered — if somewhat begrudgingly — to all Alliance members were really reserved for her, Luke, Wedge, and maybe Shara, with the occasional allowance made for a few of the other Rogues. Han was friendly enough with the pathfinders, but there was still a sort of distance he kept in place and rarely breached.
"Han's very dramatic. You just have to ignore what he says and listen to what he actually means," Leia said, fastening a pocket on her pack shut.
She felt eyes boring into her and looked at Einara. The Twi'lek wore an expression of disbelief mixed with confusion. "How the hell does anyone do that when it's everything he kriffing says?"
Leia shrugged, unsure of how to explain her understanding of Han. She had been able to see through most of his bluster within hours of meeting the man. She couldn't explain how exactly, but Luke seemed to have a similar experience when he had first met Han and Chewie. Wedge rolled his eyes a lot, but being Corellian himself appeared to offer some advantage when it came to working out what Han actually meant when he was being absurd. Shara didn't bother playing along or bantering with Han; she just told him when she thought he was being ridiculous without mincing words or leading anyone to believe she'd entertain a long, exhausting argument, and Leia was certain the only reason he and Shara didn't argue more often was because Shara rarely cared enough about what he got worked up over to say anything at all.
"Guess we all just got used to it on the outpost," Leia finally said.
Nihal stuck his head through the doorway and looked at Leia. "How do you feel about disembarking so soon?"
Leia frowned slightly. She felt uneasy, but it could easily just be the anxiety that always surrounded the unknown. She shrugged. "I…don't know."
"Something feel off?" Nihal asked pointedly.
Einara huffed softly and Leia avoided looking at her when she answered, fully understanding how irritating it was that Nihal was trusting her gut over Einara's. "I'm not sure. Everything looked fine from the cockpit, but…" Leia tilted her head slightly toward Nihal. "I have a bad feeling about something."
"I think we should at least spend the night on the ship," Einara repeated. "Watch the sensor readings and see if anyone comes out to play."
Leia nodded slowly, looking between Einara and Nihal. "I think Einara's right," she said. She glanced at Naj, who also nodded. "One more night on the ship won't kill us."
Nihal nodded. "Let's discuss it all together. I'll get the others."
The plan was to have someone watch for anything that looked alive for the night and the next day while they monitored the sensors for atmospheric changes. They decided to keep the watch schedule that they had already planned on for the field, which meant Leia and Rory had the shift after everyone had gone to bed.
The idea of hours alone with Rory in a cramped space rather than on either end of a campsite made Leia feel uneasy. He was perfectly nice, kind even, but ever since the casino on Ruusan two months prior, she had been hyper-aware any time he seemed to try to chat with her alone. It was admittedly a fair number of times, and Leia wondered how Han had noticed earlier than she had.
"We'll be on the ship," Leia said at dinner. "I don't think it makes sense to have two people stay up for watch if we're protected by durasteel on all sides. I can take night shift and Rory can sleep." I probably wouldn't sleep much anyway.
She glanced at Rory while she spoke and he deflated so subtly, she wondered if she had imagined it entirely. After taking a moment to process what she had proposed, he nodded in agreement, but said, "We can split the shift. That way, we can both get rest."
It was a logical suggestion, and Leia hated it. She could feel how wired her brain and body were, could feel that sleep would not come easily for her that night, and now, she was losing out on half a night of distraction. She didn't push back, though; she could at least try to rest in her bunk even if sleep wasn't an option, and that had to be better than nothing.
"You gonna hunker down in the cockpit or the turret?" Han asked as Leia made caf after dinner.
"Turret would give me a better view." Windows covered most surfaces of both turrets. She'd be able to see almost entirely around the ship. "But I'm supposed to be recording temp fluctuations and any other atmospheric changes that might happen, so it'll probably be the cockpit." Shame, Leia thought. She still liked hiding away in the lower turret for peace and quiet occasionally, and even the upper turret felt a little separated from the rest of the ship while offering a decent vantage point above the ground.
"I can set the computer to record sensor output," Han offered.
Leia dumped powdered milk into her caf. She stirred it for awhile before attempting to fish any undissolved clumps that floated to the top of her caf out with a spoon. "I didn't know that was an option. What sort of intervals?"
"It's a part of an upgrade Chewie's been workin' on. Think it goes to—" Han looked beyond Leia and raised his voice slightly. "Chewie, the outer enviro sensors, they can record twice a minute, right?"
Chewie answered from another part of the ship, his voice somewhat muffled. [As often as every fifteen seconds, I think.]
Han focused back on Leia's face. "Every fifteen seconds, apparently."
She nodded slightly. "I don't think we need data that detailed. What about every minute?" Even that seemed excessive, but Leia was worried about missing a large, sudden swing in the conditions outside. The almost instantaneous nightfall on Indoumodo had left her prepared to accept planetary conditions that seemed generally impossible. If this moon had wild temperature fluctuations, she wanted to at least know how quickly the changes occurred.
Han nodded once in confirmation. "I'll get it set up to record."
He stepped in the direction of the cockpit, but before he could leave the lounge entirely, Leia said, "I think the upper turret will let me keep an eye out for any potential wildlife a bit easier." Han raised his eyebrows, and she hurried forward with, "You'd asked. Cockpit or turret."
"Right," he said after a beat of silence. "Turrets are more sensitive to outside fluctuations is all. All those windows, and the enviro controls don't affect 'em much. Didn't want you to be unprepared if the temp drops outside."
Leia took a sip of her caf and smiled slightly. She knew — she had sat in the lower turret for hours while in space before — but his consideration was appreciated. "I'll be sure to grab a few blankets. Thanks."
She did just that, pulling her blanket from her bunk and raiding the crew cabin lockers for a couple of others. She dug through her belongings for a sweater to pull on just in case, though she doubted the temperature would drop low enough to need it.
Leia checked in the cockpit before heading to the upper turret, but Han had apparently already set up the sensors to record at regular intervals. She could see the output on one of the screens and nodded in approval. The temperature outside seemed to be dropping at a reasonable rate — it had only changed a three degrees since before dinner — and the other readings were holding steady as well.
She climbed into the upper turret, glancing somewhat longingly at the upper hull of the Falcon directly out the window. Leia hadn't sat on top of the ship since Tibrin three months prior, and it felt like it had been entirely too long. She refocused her attention on the darkness outside, and realized almost immediately that her plan to look for anything moving along on the ground was not going to work from that high up without aid.
It was far darker than she had anticipated. Leia had assumed with so many nearby moons, the night sky would be mostly illuminated, but that oddly wasn't the case. It was pitch black, the way Alderaan had been at night the few times she and her parents had gone camping. Away from the lights of civilization and with no moon to speak of, the forests of her home planet became almost impossible to navigate for human eyes after sunset.
The sound of boots thumping toward the turret ladders caught Leia's attention before she could decide what to do. She swiveled her seat and looked down, not surprised to see Han in the slightest. He remained on the ladder, just poking his head into the space before stretching his arm out to hand her something that was heavy for its compact size. "Nightscope," he said. "'t's dark as hell out there."
"Was about to grab my night goggles from my pack," Leia murmured. She smiled at him. "Thanks."
Han rested his chin on his fist, still clinging to the bulkhead that supported the ladder leading into the turret. "Think this moon must be in sync with another one's orbit part of the time. We're in the shadow or somethin'. Expected to see a lot more in the sky."
"I was just thinking that," Leia said. "Or, really I was thinking it looked like home the few times I went camping with my parents. Alderaan didn't have a moon."
"Yeah?" Han responded, sounding genuinely curious.
She nodded. "No moon. So many stars, though." She laughed softly. "I suppose that's everywhere."
"Not here."
Leia scrunched her brows together and peered out and up, searching the night sky for stars. There were a few closer to the horizon, but Han was right: the sky was a dark, blank canvas. "Hmm." She looked back down at him. "Think you may be right about being in a shadow."
There was a beat of silence before Han said, "Your ma went camping?"
Leia bit her lip softly, smiling. "Well, someone had to go with me. They couldn't very well send me off into the woods on my own with a pack and a tent at the age of seven. Or so I was repeatedly told."
Han chuckled. "That tracks. Still, camping seems…too wild to be queenly."
A delighted laugh erupted from Leia's chest. "If Breha Organa was too wild to be queenly, I don't know what I would have been suitable for." A strange sort of sadness, one that felt almost sweet, washed over her. "She loved the outdoors. She'd take these walks along the grounds — she called them her sanity walks, though only around me and Dad. Said being outside and in the gardens and the woods helped her recenter."
"Sounds familiar," Han said, taking another step up the ladder and moving further into the turret.
Leia jerked her head slightly to indicate he should join her in the cramped space if he was going to hang around, and Han took the hint. He sat on the deck plates, back pressed against a window the same way he had the several times he had joined her for a chat in the lower turret. Leia pressed the nightscope to her eye, peering out into the darkness, on high alert for any sort of movement. The device was clearly meant to be mounted to a weapon — Leia noticed faint hatch marks in its field of vision intended to help with centering on a target — but it allowed her to see through the darkness as well as her night goggles did.
"Yes, I think I picked up that habit from her," Leia said softly, staring at the tree line, half expecting some unknown beast to emerge and charge toward the ship. Nothing moved, though. "I start to feel like I'm losing my grip on everything when I'm inside too long."
"Kinda how I start to feel if I'm grounded too long," Han said.
There was nothing of interest outside. No movement, no sentients or creatures or even insects from what Leia could tell. Just grass for klicks on klicks bordered by a line of trees in the distance. She dropped the scope to her lap and looked at Han's face — really studied him for a moment. "That I don't fully understand," she admitted. "Flying is…fine. And I need to keep traveling, so it's necessary. But I don't ever need to fly. Obviously, or I'd have lost my mind a long time ago."
"You find yourself a ship you really love, and you'll understand."
"Maybe. I don't know." Leia rested her chin on her fist, her elbow on her knee, and looked out the window thoughtfully. "I wasn't raised traveling on ships, you know. Not at first. I didn't leave Alderaan until I was ten years old."
Han sounded surprised. "Really?"
She shrugged. "Luke didn't go off-planet until he stepped on this ship," she said. "I'm not the only one."
"I wasn't exactly planet hoppin' before I hit double digits, either," Han said. "Just thought it'd be different for you. The princess thing and all."
Leia closed her eyes and laughed. He said the princess thing as if the position had been a short-lived hobby rather than a weighty destiny and purpose. "I'm not sure why I was kept planetside for so long," she admitted. "It wasn't common in our circles. My extended family thought my parents odd for it."
Han seemed to hesitate for just a moment. "You have a lotta them? Extended family?"
Leia inhaled sharply. Have I never talked about them? The mere idea of such an oversight was painful, but she had barely been able to think about them for more than a moment at a time for so long; talking had been out of the question.
She kept her eyes closed, the twisting in her chest and gut, the echo of their dying shrieks in her mind all begging her to shut the conversation down. But Han was…Han. He was trusted almost implicitly at this point, and he wasn't teasing her or trying to cause harm. His questions seemed earnest, casually curious. She could…she could…
"You don't hafta talk about it," he said carefully, giving her an out that she wasn't sure she wanted.
Leia pursed her lips and looked at him. "I had aunts and they all had husbands and children. Most of my cousins were older than me, but there were a couple who were quite a bit younger." She exhaled softly, pushing the images of their chubby faces from her mind. "The older ones drove me a little crazy sometimes. Picked on me when I was little."
"Surprised you let 'em."
Leia laughed and peered through the nightscope again, more so she had something to do than to actually look for anything. "Only for a few years. I started eviscerating people pretty young." She glanced at Han. "I can be quite mean if I want to be."
Han snorted. "Yeah, I know."
She shook her head slowly, wondering, with a horrible dread filling every centim of her body, which interactions with her Han had in mind. He sounded more amused than hurt, though, which gave her some comfort while only proving that he had no idea. "No, you really don't." Leia dropped her hand and scope back into her lap and looked at Han. "You've seen me lash out in a reactionary sort of way. You haven't seen me calculate how to hurt someone." She pressed her nails into the skin above her collarbone, offering herself a physical anchor while any emotional stability seemed to evade her. "I don't…often, but when I was younger, it was easy for me to justify saying dreadfully pointed and hurtful things to people who I thought deserved it because they hurt me or hurt others. I didn't socialize much outside of the family and palace staff until I was a teenager, so it was mainly focused on certain cousins, the ones that would pick on me, and of course they would react, and the cycle perpetuated itself. My parents caught the tendency young enough and made a point to teach me a lot about extending grace to others when possible and opting for charity and compassion when uncertain of someone's motives. Hurting others isn't my first inclination; it's never been my first inclination. Learning from my parents ensured it wasn't my second, fifth, or tenth, either. The ability to hurt is still there; I think it is for most people. But I don't ever want to cause harm to others." Leia pursed her lips. She could leave it at that, forget for a moment the truth that had eaten at the back of her mind every day for over two months. She was fairly certain Han wouldn't press her. She bit her knuckle lightly, some part of her wanting to unload the vile secret she had managed to keep to herself for so long. "There's an exception to most every rule, I suppose."
Han rubbed the back of his neck a moment before running his fingers through his hair. "Think if the rule is 'treat people better'n they treat you', I've got a fair few exceptions myself."
She shook her head slightly. "You asked me a couple of months back if I'd do anything for the Alliance and I said yes." Han tilted his head in acknowledgement and Leia focused her eyes not on his, but on the transparisteel behind him. "I was wrong. I won't hold myself back from killing Vader for them." She swallowed hard, shame filling her from heels to hair. "If we were to catch him, have him incapacitated, take him prisoner, he'd probably have information. He could probably be interrogated or used as a bargaining chip with the Emperor. Maybe even used as bait for a trap. And I can feel down to my bones that I would find a way to murder him and do it, no matter what it costs the Alliance."
Han did not react to her confession with the horror and disgust she expected, and the conflicted feeling that filled her chest and belly grew stronger. When he shrugged somewhat lazily, she wondered if they were on the same page at all. "Think anyone in your position would do that, Leia. If I got a chance to kill the bastard, I'd do it. I ain't bringin' him in for questioning if I can take him out, that's for damn sure."
"It's different," she insisted, staring again out into the inky blackness of night.
"What, 'cause I got a past, it's more okay for me to kill someone than you?" Han said, his tone tense and prickly.
Leia jerked her head in his direction, eyes narrowed. "It has nothing to do with that. You're a good man, Han. Don't act like I think any differently." She paused, her tone and expression softening. "It's different because you would kill him because you know the harm he's caused. I wouldn't be killing him for the good of the galaxy or the Alliance or even as revenge for General Kenobi or Luke's family or my planet or my friends and family. I'd be doing it for me, to assuage my rage. And that's no way to make decisions in war. Or in any situation, for that matter. Not when I'm responsible for so many—" She took a deep breath. "I have never desired something so badly while hoping desperately that I don't get what I want."
"Might be more merciful," Han offered after a few moments of tense quiet. Leia clenched her teeth. "You kill him first, he wouldn't be interrogated. Wouldn't be used as bait."
"Don't give me reason to justify cruel hatred," she said indignantly. "Tarkin could've said the same about Alderaanians. And, if I'm given the opportunity, whatever I do will not be driven by mercy."
"Where's all this comin' from, Leia?" Han asked quietly.
Me! she longed to shout. It's coming from me! Instead, she took a moment to think. The desire to kill the monster who had nearly ruined her had been there since that first injection of burning serum, but it had been hidden, buried under duty and fear and busyness and a sort of numb distance she kept between herself and her most painful experiences. It had only been fully uncovered the past two months, and the roiling rage that surfaced had run through her veins as freely as her own blood ever since.
"When we go in and talk to these small militias, I have to ask—no one's making me, you understand, but I have to ask what they do with beings who threaten their operation, with prisoners they take to protect themselves against exposure. I'm not striking deals with groups that torture. Someone else can do that if we're really that desperate." She gripped the nightscope in her hand, brought it to her eye in a sort of mechanical movement, and lowered it without actually looking for anything. "One of them, the group on Ruusan, took out a double agent. He was unarmed, captured, but they couldn't keep him. Couldn't let him go. He wouldn't talk, wouldn't say what had already been transmitted to the Empire, so they sped up the inevitable. And after talking with them and working everything out, I just kept thinking about how against offensive attacks my parents were. How against offensive attacks I was for my entire life. We knew they were necessary eventually; you can't win a kriffing war by only defending what you currently have. You have to eventually take…" Leia pressed her lips together hard and exhaled before continuing. "On the flight back, I'm working all of this over in my head, trying to decide where the line is, you know? The group on Ruusan said they don't commit war crimes, but they—they did. Because they had no viable alternatives. And I'm sitting there, putting myself in their position, pitying them for the choice they had to make and assuring myself that I would never shoot someone who wasn't an immediate threat to another being. I wouldn't kill someone who was unarmed and in custody. And then I had another nightmare about Alderaan and I woke up with pictures of Tarkin and Vader in my head, and all I could think was, Yes, you fucking would."
Han hardly allowed a second to pass before jumping in. "Anyone fucking would, Leia."
She shook her head, raising trembling fingers to her mouth. "My father wouldn't. I—I really believe that he would find it within himself to not even consider…"
"You really think your dad could hear about even half of what happened to you and not want Vader obliterated?"
"I think he would want a lot of things, but I don't think he'd act on that want, no." She shook her head. "I—I don't ever remember seeing him as angry as I feel. I don't think either of my parents ever got as angry as I feel right now."
Han unfolded one of his legs, stretched it for a second, then pulled it toward him, resting his arms and chin on his bent knee. "You don't hafta be just like them, you know."
Hot tears pricked at Leia's eyes, and whatever mass of emotions had coiled around her organs all seemed to scream for her attention at once. She focused her gaze outside again. "I want to be, though," she said as if were that simple, as if her desires would make a difference at all. "They're the best people I know." Her slip into present tense caused her breath to catch unexpectedly.
"Well," Han said after a long stretch of silence, "you don't hafta."
She couldn't look at him again. Too weak and raw to argue about something so close to her heart, she thought her lack of response might make him leave. She wasn't sure she wanted him to, but he didn't tolerate being ignored well — they were similar in that way — and she expected he'd stand and head down the ladder after a few minutes of tense silence.
He didn't though, at least not that Leia heard, and after what felt like an excessively long stretch of time for him to sit quietly, she hazarded a glance in his direction. Han rested his back against the window, head tilted up slightly and eyes closed. When Leia closed her eyes and listened, she could hear how slow his breathing was. He had fallen asleep.
She looked outside yet again, sweeping a glance over the dark landscape with the nightscope. Nothing. Leia turned her attention back to Han's still form, crammed against the window that doubled as the turret wall in what had to be an uncomfortable sleeping position. The irritation she had felt upon hearing the last words he had spoken to her dissipated slowly as she considered the interest with which he had listened to her rant that evening, the way he had tried to help her not be so hard on herself — misguided as it might have been. He was wrong about her parents — she owed it to them to strive to be even half the people they were — but he hadn't been picking a fight; he seemed to genuinely care about how she was handling things.
The least she could do was wake him up and make sure he didn't sleep half the night in the worst position possible. Leia nudged his boot with the toe of her own. "Han," she said loudly enough to cause him jerk awake. He blinked twice and squinted at her, frowning. "You don't need to sleep in here. You're gonna be sore in the morning."
He rolled his shoulders stiffly, but settled back against the window, eyes closing again. "You want me to leave?"
Leia bit her lip. "That's not what I said."
He shrugged slightly and didn't say another word, apparently intent on staying. The turret was quiet and Leia noticed the moment that Han's breathing slowed again, the moment that he seemed to fall back asleep.
She caught herself staring at him once more, unable to turn away as she considered the man who, for some reason that night, wasn't going to leave her alone unless she asked him to. He was handsome to be sure, but that wasn't what she found herself dwelling on as she examined his face, his hair, his shoulders pressed against the window. Han was, more than anything she realized, safe in a way she couldn't say most others felt.
Safe, Leia thought, testing the word. The thought almost felt too intimate. She couldn't recall ever specifically labeling another person as safe before, but it was the word that best described how she felt when she was with him. They annoyed and frustrated one another at times, sure, but even the most irritating interactions occurred within the boundaries of a friendship that felt uniquely secure in a way that was difficult to describe. She and Luke cared for each other deeply and they got along most of the time, but the only big argument they'd had made everything feel precarious until they had made up, as if the fight itself had the power to break something. Her arguments with Han, their tiffs and disagreements and teasing banter all felt undergirded by the idea that, at the end of the day, they stuck by each other — or perhaps were stuck with each other — as if that fact were the constant around which every conversation, argument, feeling of fondness, and feeling of annoyance orbited.
It was a strange thing to consider, feeling safe with someone who had threatened to leave at every turn for so long. Although…When was the last time…? Han hadn't said a word about leaving since their trip to Hoth. There had been no promises to stay — in fact, he seemed to avoid making promises of any kind as a general rule — but he hadn't brought up leaving the Alliance in nearly a year. Leia wondered if he had only stopped speaking about the inevitability of his departure, or if it was, in fact, no longer inevitable.
Safe, she tested once more, catching herself as she almost whispered the word out loud. The descriptor still felt right.
He was — they were, together — safe.
It was something far more pleasant to dwell on than earlier topics, than her barely controlled hatred of Vader, than the fact that she was, at the end of the day, murderous with rage in a way that made her question just how separated she was from the very type of evil that had caused her harm. Han was…he was safe. Their friendship was safe. Even when they annoyed each other or didn't immediately resolve an argument or never fully came to an agreement.
Safe.
The night dragged a bit with no one to talk to, but it wasn't a total slog. Leia alternated between examining various spots in the landscape with occasionally glancing at Han, remembering instances when they had worked together despite themselves, as if being on one another's team was a given regardless of any potentially complicating circumstances. She didn't want to mention it to him — she had to imagine he'd declare her musings mushy and change the subject entirely, but his actions had always spoken more truthfully than his words, anyway.
Footsteps and the sound of someone climbing up a few rungs of the ladder leading into the turret caused Leia to jerk around in her seat. Rory stood on the ladder, night goggles in one hand, his head poking into the turret, red hair mussed and a still-sleepy expression on his face. "See anything?" Rory asked, yawning.
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"Hmm," Rory said. "Good, I guess. Think I'll keep watch from the cockpit." He looked a Han. "Surprised he's still asleep. Figured just talking would wake him. He always seems kinda on high alert."
Leia started to respond, but Han beat her to it, opening an eye. "Don't gotta be on high alert to wake up when all of you make as much noise as a clubfooted gundark walkin' around the ship," he groused groggily.
Rory rolled his eyes and focused back on Leia. "I'll be in the cockpit. Get some rest."
"Thanks, Rory," she said, making no commitment to rest.
Leia stared out into the inky darkness again after he left, running her fingers over the scope in her lap. She had expected Han to fall back asleep as he had before, so it surprised her to hear his deep voice ask, "You okay?"
She nodded, a jerky movement, not quite natural but genuine nonetheless.
"Still upset?"
"Not with you," she said.
"What about with you?"
Leia managed a weak smile and a shrug without looking at him, hoping he could at least make out the expression on her profile. She couldn't imagine being upset with herself changing, not while so much hate boiled in her blood.
"You plannin' on sleeping at all?"
She shrugged again, "I don't know. Probably not. But you should go get some rest while you can."
Han leaned his head back against the window again, running his hand over his jaw. "Want me to leave?"
Leia smiled and shook her head. "Did I say that?"
Satisfied with her allowance, Han settled back against the window yet again. Leia assumed he planned to simply go back to sleep, but, after a few minutes of quiet, he spoke. "You know, the fact that you wantin' to hurt him upsets you make you different than them."
She didn't fully follow what he was trying to say. Leia raised her eyebrows and swiveled the gunner's seat to face Han straight-on. "Different than who?"
"Vader. Tarkin. All of 'em. They think it's nothin', hurting people. Some of 'em think it's fun."
Leia appreciated the attempt at making her feel better, but the galaxy was far more complicated than what Han presented. "We can't think that way, not about everyone. Wedge was on their side. So was Hobbie, so was General Dodonna." So were you, once. "There are some who are conflicted or even hate where they are. There have to be."
Han frowned and looked her in the eye. "Okay, how 'bout most of 'em?"
Leia laughed softly. "I suppose that's accurate enough." She looked at him, her eyes beginning to feel a bit heavy. She knew she was tired, knew she would probably fall asleep quickly if she even rested her head against the back of her seat, and also knew that she'd be up shortly after that, screaming as memories of white-hot serums ripped through her veins. All the talk about the Empire and Vader and her own rage would hardly inspire a dreamless sleep.
She blinked rapidly, searching for any tactic to keep herself awake. "Han?"
"Yeah?"
Leia hesitated, the request on her tongue sounding entirely childish now that she had had a chance to think about it. I need a distraction, though. He's good at those. She bit her lip very briefly. "Would you tell me one of your stories? One that doesn't involve the Empire."
Han sat forward, fully alert and with a grin plastered on his face. "I ever tell you about the time I had to trick some pirates into thinkin' I was a Wookiee?"
Leia laughed softly and shook her head. "I don't think so."
"So, me and Chewie were runnin' a shipment of wigs…"
She tried to listen, and succeeded for awhile, but eventually her eyelids felt heavy again and her head along with them. Distracted from the darkness in her own mind by Han's story and voice, Leia drifted off and slept uninterrupted for the rest of the night.
A/N: I kept expecting to cut something from this and stitch it together with an action sequence, but then I didn't want to cut anything, so, uh...hope that's all right.
Next chapter should be out November 3, 2023.