Leia headed straight toward medical as soon as she pulled her shoes on, not even pausing to change out of her mother's dress. Temporary lights lined common walkways, but beyond those areas, it was so dark on the moon that she couldn't make out an inkling of the forest that she knew was mere meters away. Leia wondered briefly what threats lay in those woods and shuddered, a new sort of apprehension latching onto her.
When Han caught up to her, she glared at him. "What, you don't trust me to go to medical on my own?"
"Nope," he said without elaboration.
"I'm not a child." As soon as the words exited her mouth, Leia felt as if the very act of saying them made her sound very much like a child. "I know where med is," she tacked on, hoping it sounded like a clarification.
"Oh, I'm sure ya do. I just wanna hear for myself that you won't die on me."
She rolled her eyes. "You think I'd lie about something like that? I'm not a liar." Yes, her entire life had essentially been a lie for the past three years, but that had been for a greater good, an end goal. She didn't lie for no reason.
Han took a moment to respond, seeming to carefully consider his words — an anomaly, Leia was certain. "I think desperate people do desperate things."
Desperate? She was hardly desperate. Exhausted, maybe. More confused than she was used to being. Unsure of what she was supposed to do, exactly, as a Senator without a Senate, a Princess without a planet or a people. But desperate? Leia opened her mouth, ready to argue, when a memory from just an hour or so prior surfaced.
Leia, you briefly considered trading yourself for passage. What could possibly be more desperate?
She shook her head at the thought. She was sleep-deprived and feverish and experiencing wildly out-of-character, nonsensical thoughts. But she wasn't desperate.
"You're not going back with me," Leia said coolly.
"Never planned on it," Han responded. "Just wanna hear from a medical professional's mouth that you're good for the trip."
The lone doctor still working while others packed medical supplies looked younger than Han and wore her dark hair in Alderaanian braids. Leia wondered if she was actually from Alderaan or if she'd adopted the style in some sort of bid of solidarity.
The doctor blanched when she saw Leia approach, an expression of stark concern on her face. "Princess?" she whispered seemingly to herself before stepping toward Leia, her head bowed and speaking at normal volume. "Your High—Your Majesty."
Leia felt as if she was going to be ill again. She shook her head, fighting tears. "That's not—" Leia swallowed, composing herself. She could do this. She'd been in a million awkward, uncomfortable, and hostile conversations throughout her life. She could address someone from her home planet with kindness. "Your Highness will do," she said softly. "Please." She felt Han stare at her and Leia could guess why. She'd explain later. Maybe. If he was nice about asking.
"Yes. Of course. Your Highness."
The doctor hesitated long enough that Leia felt compelled to take over. "What's your name?" she asked, meeting the doctor's gaze.
"Tish. Ah, Dr. Tugrina."
"How are you holding up, Dr. Tugrina?"
"Well enough, I suppose," the woman said. "Still in shock, I imagine, but we have to keep moving."
Leia nodded, a small pang of guilt hitting her in the chest for crying after a nap just an hour or two prior. Sleeping while everyone around her worked was bad enough, but the luxury of crying wasn't one most had had in the past couple of days. I wonder how many people she's lost. Anyone who was home on Alderaan, obviously, but in the battle as well. Friends, colleagues, favorite patients. Leia couldn't ask her that, if course, but the mere idea caused her insides to ache.
"How can I help you, Your Highness?" Dr. Tugrina asked.
Earnestness would lead only to wallowing and tears in that moment. Leia needed a distraction. She glanced at Han and affected a mildly amused tone. "Captain Solo here is providing my transport to the next outpost, but will only do so if you can assure him I won't drop dead on the deck plates of his ship." She caught Dr. Tugrina's eye and lowered her voice considerably. "I have some injuries and I think I may be running a slight fever."
To his credit, Han didn't say a thing and waited while Dr. Tugrina led Leia behind a curtain. She looked Leia over, seemingly confused about how begin.
After a long stint of silence, Dr. Tugrina cleared her throat. "Apologies, Your Highness. I am not at my best. What seems to be the problem exactly?"
"No need to apologize. We've all been through an ordeal." Leia paused, biting her lip. "I was in Imperial custody for I believe five days. Possibly six. I underwent interrogation multiple times. I have superficial wounds on my back that I had help dressing, but Captain Solo is concerned that some of them may be infected, especially since I began running a fever. I just need to be able to assure him that I don't need constant medical supervision during this move."
"Will you not be joining us on one of the larger transports?"
"I'm afraid not," Leia said without explanation.
Dr. Tugrina checked her temperature, declared her to have a moderate fever, and asked Leia to show her the wounds. Leia again needed help with the fasteners on the dress. She wondered how she'd gotten herself in the piece alone before the ceremony; she didn't remember being so stiff or recall sharp pain accompanying her every movement.
The bacta patches had to be removed. Dr. Tugrina peeled back the edge of one and tears sprung to Leia's eyes as the adhesive tugged on raw skin. She heard her let out a soft gasp. "Oh," the young doctor said softly before apparently composing herself and speaking more confidently. "Some of these are definitely infected but nothing appears life-threatening." She removed another patch. "Ideally, you'd spend some time in the tank, but I think it's been disassembled. We'll have to make do with patches. And I'd like to scan you to make sure no infection has spread, and give you an antibiotic. Are you sure this is all?"
Leia hesitated. She wasn't sure. She was growing more convinced every time she moved that she likely had a broken rib or five, but she knew a medical professional would want to apply bone knitters for those and bone knitters involved injections. The thought caused a wave of nausea to wash over Leia.
"There are some other wounds on my front," Leia said hesitantly. "But I was able to clean those pretty quickly. I don't think they'll be an issue."
"Better to be safe. If you don't mind showing me."
Leia nodded slowly, pulled her arms out of the dress, and pressed the loose fabric to her hips. "We, ah, ended up in a garbage compactor when we were escaping. I tried to make sure I cleaned everything well as soon as I could after. My back was just harder to get to."
Dr. Tugrina nodded. "These do look better than the others. You have quite a bit of bruising—" Sharp pain reminiscent of a trooper's boot shot through Leia's side as the doctor lightly palpated her ribs. She wasn't able to stop a gasp from escaping. "Let's get a scan. Should be able to check the spread of infection that way and we'll be able to see if you have any broken bones."
Leia bit her lip and nodded, gripping the fabric of her dress in tight fists. "Okay." Whatever would get her out of there as quickly as possible.
She was given a medical gown and privacy to change before Dr. Tugrina returned with a med scanner. Leia resisted the urge to lay down; she was certain she'd fall asleep if given half a chance. She sat, spine straight, on the cot as she was hooked up to the apparatus, and willed herself into stillness as the scanner ran through its tests. The loud beep it emitted to signal it was finished caused Leia to startle slightly.
"Moderate fever, but we knew that," Dr. Tugrina murmured. "Looks like the infection is localized at the moment, so that's good. You have three broken ribs. We have bone knitters somewhere. I can grab—"
Panic rolled over her. "No, thank you," she said, attempting to sound casual. She forced a tight smile. "No point in wasting bone knitters on ribs. They'll heal on their own, right?"
Dr. Tugrina stared at her, obviously confused. "They will, but it will likely take weeks. Possibly months."
Leia shrugged slightly, suppressing the wince that accompanied the simple movement. "I'll make do. Save the knitters for someone who needs them."
"Okay." The doctor seemed confounded, but was evidently hesitant to refuse Leia's wishes. "You definitely need an antibiotic injection—"
"Do you have tablets?"
Dr. Tugrina tilted her head. "We do, you just have to keep up with taking them for ten days. Most people want the shot since it's one-and-done."
Leia shook her head slightly. "I'll take the tablets. No shots."
An awkward silence followed while Dr. Tugrina studied Leia's face. She nodded. "Of course, Your Highness. Let's get those wounds cleaned up and I'll find the tablets for you."
Leia sat straight-backed and tense while she once again underwent the sharp pain of antiseptic on her wounds.
"Whoever cleaned these did a decent job for field medicine, at least," Dr. Tugrina said. "Most of them look good."
"Some were already infected by the time I had someone who could help me," Leia said. "Did the best we could."
"Of course." After a long moment of quiet, Dr. Tugrina spoke, hesitance evident in her tone. "May I ask, Your Highness, what caused the wounds?"
Leia inhaled shakily, tried to think of a way to word her answer without causing more questions. "Repeated injections of some kind. I'm not sure what was in them, but they were a part of the interrogation process and seemed to require dozens of jabs. And there's a device — they call it the rack, but it's really more of a chair. Burns and cuts are from that."
A long silence stretched between the two women as Dr. Tugrina smoothed a fresh bacta patch on Leia's lower back. "Your Highness, there is no easy way to ask this, but…I've been with the Alliance since I graduated and I've seen…" She trailed off, seemed to regroup. "I've had to treat soldiers who've returned from Imperial imprisonment and it's not been uncommon for the women to be particularly mistreated." She let the implication of her statement hang in the air and Leia was suddenly filled with annoyance at the doctor, at Han, at herself even for all refusing to just say it.
Leia's silence apparently spoke volumes, because after a beat, Dr. Tugrina continued. "Depending on timing, you may still be in the window for emergency contra—"
"Doctor, I've been a political target since I was a child," Leia said with a tight smile. "My parents were painfully aware of what sorts of things go on in captivity. I've received contraceptive shots for years."
"Of course," Dr. Tugrina responded as if what Leia said should have been obvious, though Leia knew it had been unfair to think she'd assume anything about her medical history — especially something as private as birth control. "If you need an exam—"
Leia's heart pounded. The last thing she wanted was an exam. She needed to get control of the conversation quickly before she found herself answering questions she didn't even want asked. "I'm just here for Captain Solo's peace of mind," she interrupted, knowing all the while that Dr. Tugrina didn't deserve such rude treatment. "He seems to think I'm in danger of going septic halfway through the journey because of the fever. I'm not in need of anything that doesn't contribute to my ability to handle a two-day trip."
"Of course." Dr. Tugrina applied the last bacta patch. "If you take antibiotics and keep the patches on, you should heal up nicely. No need for concern. I'll go find those tablets now."
She left through the curtain and Leia changed back into her dress, managing the fasteners through gritted teeth and teary eyes. By the time Dr. Tugrina returned, holding two bottles of medication, she'd composed herself well enough to not feel embarrassed. She took the bottles — one was the promised antibiotic, the other a pain reliever — as they walked back out of the exam area. Han eyed them both warily.
"Perfectly safe to travel," Dr. Tugrina said to Han. Leia appreciated her ending the comments there.
"See? Told you," Leia said. She thanked Dr. Tugrina before breezing past Han in the direction of his ship.
His legs were so much longer than hers that it only took a few steps for him to catch up to her. "Dodonna said we're rendezvousing near Belkadan and you'll get your outpost assignment there," Han said, apparently as eager as Leia to not talk about medical issues. "We'll take you as far as the outpost, and then we're gone."
Leia stared straight ahead as she walked. Outpost. She wasn't being forced into a safe house then. "Thank you for taking me. I appreciate it more than you know."
"Job's a job," he responded casually. "We're transporting some supplies along with you. Not doin' it for free."
"Of course. That's only fair." Leia actually felt slightly better knowing he was being paid for a job this time. It made his giving into her frantic demands seem less like a favor or something she'd owe him for.
"He asked if we could handle a few more beings," Han said carefully. "Get some outta here early since the repairs on the corvette are taking awhile."
She could feel him staring at her, gauging her reaction. Leia remained unchanged on the outside, but she hoped against hope that he'd refused, that it would just be her, Chewbacca, and Han. She couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't cry herself to sleep at this point and sharing the cabin with anyone she didn't know — or worse, someone she did know — would be mortifying.
"Think it's a coupla rank an' file and a general," Han said. "Sounded like it's all men. Figure you can take my cabin and they can have the crew. If you want."
Leia looked at him quizzically. "There are only three bunks in the crew cabin."
Han shrugged. "Chewie has his own spot. Converted part of a cargo hold so he'd have more room."
This fascinated her. Cutting into cargo hold space certainly meant Han had less room than he would have otherwise had for jobs, which surely cut into his profits. Leia was beginning to wonder if, despite his dogged proclamations and her matching accusations, Han actually understood what it meant to be a mercenary.
"I was wondering about that," she said. "Bunks seemed kind of small for him."
"Ship was built with humans in mind. 've had to make alterations here and there."
Leia frowned slightly, the numbers still not adding up. "You didn't count yourself. We'll still be short a bunk. I don't want to take…" She trailed off. She didn't want to take his cabin from him, but the alternative seemed impossible to handle.
He shrugged. "We won't all sleep at the same time. 'sides, with that many unknown beings on board, I prefer to stay in the cockpit. Make sure no one touches something they shouldn't."
"They're military personnel, Han, not children," Leia said flatly.
"They're dissidents. Can't trust any of 'em to follow the rules, 'cept maybe you, and I'm beginning to have my doubts there."
She gaped at him. "Dissidents? You stole Imperial property and went AWOL." She still wasn't sure what the property was. The ship, maybe? He seems awfully proud of it. Maybe he's cocky about pulling one over on them. It seemed unlikely that the Army would have had a freighter that small in their possession, but anything could happen.
He shot her an easy grin. "Yeah, sweetheart, how d'ya think I know not to trust 'em?"
She rolled her eyes but said no more. If he wanted to sleep in the cockpit, more power to him.
"Thought you wanted to be called 'Leia'," he said after a moment of silence.
Leia raised her brows slightly. She knew what he was getting at, but he'd have to actually ask if he wanted to know. "I would prefer you to call me by my name, yes."
"But the doc back there—"
"Is Alderaanian," Leia said briskly. "I'm not going to tell one of my people they have to use my name. It'd just be a reminder that it's all gone."
"But them usin' 'Princess' or 'Your Worship' reminds you, doesn't it?"
"I'm willing to make a small sacrifice in my momentary comfort for the sake of my—" Leia broke off, something glaringly wrong with what he'd said. "Who in their right mind has referred to me as 'Your Worship'?"
"Oh, did I pick the wrong nickname?"
Leia stared at Han as he punched in a code on the Millennium Falcon, unsure if he was serious. His expression was inscrutable — he didn't look quite solemn enough for her to call him sincere but he lacked the grin he'd shot her a few times when she'd been sure he was joking. "First of all, they're titles, not nicknames. And the proper way to address a prince or princess is 'Your Highness'." She shook her head as the ship's ramp lowered. "'Your Worship'. Must think I'm pretty full of myself."
"Nah, I'm just teasin'. The doc earlier said somethin', though, and you corrected her. What was that about? Haven't heard you tell someone to call you by anything but your name."
Leia had decided to explain if he asked nicely, and she was fairly certain this was as nice a request as she could expect from Han. She scratched her arm idly as they boarded the ship together. "'Your Majesty' is reserved for the reigning monarch. It's my mother's title, not mine."
Whatever he thought of her explanation, Han at least refrained from pointing out the obvious — that her mother was dead, leaving Breha unable to reign over anything — and, so, Leia didn't have to remind him that her planet was also dead, leaving Leia unable to reign over anything. In one nightmarish moment, she'd been made princess in perpetuity.
He might think the distinction foolish. He didn't seem to take titles or really any regimented signs of respect particularly seriously — she'd yet to hear him say 'General' in front of Jan Dodonna's name. But he didn't push her on it. Maybe he sensed it was too raw, too personal to press.
"Figure we'll leave as soon as the others show up," Han said. "Had Chewie load what we're carrying while we were gone." He paused. "Asked 'im to move your stuff into the private cabin, too. I may knock later if I need somethin', but you can have it."
Leia smiled at him slightly. "Thank you. I—I'm not sure where…"
Han led her to the captain's cabin through an entrance right off the lounge. It wasn't a massive space — few things on the freighter could be called massive — but it was private and surprisingly neat. The bunk was made — Leia found that most shocking — and her two crates sat against the bulkhead.
"Chewie musta made the bunk," Han muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, as if he were embarrassed that his personal space wasn't slovenly. "Only 'fresher is through the crew cabin, but this's at least private."
Leia nodded. "Thank you." She paused. "I think I may see if there's anything that I can change into among my things."
Han took the hint and left her alone in the cabin. Leia stared at the open door, the desire for privacy warring with the visceral reaction she experienced in her chest and belly every time she thought of the door sliding shut, locking her into the small space.
Not locking, she reminded herself. She approached the panel next to the door hesitantly, palmed it shut, and immediately palmed it back open just to prove that she could. She felt ridiculous. It was a door.
Leia shut the door again and stepped toward the crates. She made it halfway across the cabin before the sick, twisting feeling took over her gut again. She backed away, tripping over her own feet and ramming her hip into the panel next to the door. She palmed the panel again, rubbing the tender spot on her hip and inhaling deeply as soon as the door opened.
"Tryin' to wear the motor out?" Han asked. He'd only made it as far as the other end of the lounge.
Leia stared at him, wide-eyed, mortified, and with no satisfactory explanation. She racked her brain for any explanation that was even half logical. "I was just making sure it hadn't locked." What? Why had she said that? It was true, but it didn't fit the half-logical criteria she'd been shooting for.
Han furrowed his brow and took a step toward her. "Door unlocks from the inside," he said.
It was an elementary and obvious concept, one that every modern, functioning being over the age of two knew and understood. Han had every opportunity to sound condescending or even just amused by Leia's absurd anxiety, but he kept his tone even, neutral, as if he were informing her of any other feature of his ship. His commitment to acting as if her concern was both common and normal only made Leia feel marginally less ridiculous, but it did help at least.
She swallowed and nodded. "Right. Right. Okay. Sorry."
"There's no way to disable that," he continued. "Unlockin' from the inside."
Leia nodded again. "Right. Of course. Thank you." She took a step back and closed the door, embarrassment providing the resolve and drive to not pop it right back open.
She was able to force herself to the side of the room where the crates were pressed against the wall and opened the one closest to her, hoping that she hadn't imagined the couple of outfits she remembered seeing before the ceremony. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the contents. It looked as if they'd dumped her drawers directly into the crate along with grabbing whatever had been in her closet. Most of her everyday clothing had been with her on the Tantive IV, but she at least still owned some underwear, two outfits that weren't formal attire, and a nightshirt.
Leia wondered what was in the other crate, wondered what hadn't made it to Yavin. Wedge said they'd ransacked the place — grabbed everything. But he'd also said that the load had been split by accident when they'd had to scatter on their way out to avoid a group of stormtroopers, that most of her belongings had made their way to a ship headed back home so her parents could dig through the documents and data chips, look for anything she might've hidden. They'd thought she was likely dead, after all, and Bail and Breha would have known best what was important. What had made it to Yavin were the two crates that were split from the rest, likely the last things loaded.
She hoped it was something meaningful: holos of her friends and family, notes from her mother and father, something, anything from Alderaan. She could use a win, even a minuscule one, and opening a box full of things with memories attached to them would certainly count as one at this point.
She lifted the lid of the second crate and laughed because the only other option was crying, and she wasn't sure she had the energy to shed tears. It was full of items from her apartment kitchen. They really did grab everything, she thought wryly, picking up a large spoon and dropping it nearly immediately. Most everything was in pristine condition — a natural state, she supposed, for items that had never been used. The majority of it had been given to Leia after she had learned to cook a few meals at her mother's insistence — or under duress as Leia had teasingly called it — a few months after she'd moved into her own apartment on Coruscant, when she'd gone home for a visit thinner and paler than she'd been the last time Breha had seen her in person.
"You may have occasions where you simply want to do something for yourself, Leilei," Breha said, tucking a wisp of hair behind Leia's ear.
Leia pointed out that she did nearly everything for herself and she had, in fact, been eschewing the assistance of attendants and droids since she was a toddler, and couldn't she just have one thing that she relied on others for?
"What do you usually do when you've gotten home too late to realistically rely on someone else to feed you?"
Leia narrowed her eyes in annoyance. Breha knew the answer — she'd had list of questions about Leia's nutrition intake and sleep habits ready as soon as Leia had stepped foot on palace grounds. She'd said she'd been worried since she'd seen some photos of Leia at some event the week prior in a dress that had had to be taken in last minute.
"I usually just go to bed if it's that late."
Her mother gave her a stern look. "You're at least learning to make noodles and ruica before you leave, and we're sending a case of nutrient bars with you."
Leia had learned to make noodles, ruica, and a handful of other simple meal components, and she'd bought a second case of nutrient bars within a month. She continued to use her kitchen primarily for drinking caf or tea or hurriedly eating instant porridge on her way out the door. She had made some under-seasoned noodles a few times late at night — that had been a good call on Breha's part — but actual cooking had not taken place.
Leia couldn't have chosen a more useless, disappointing crate to save if she'd set out to.
She let the lid settle back on the crate, obscuring the kitchen supplies from view, and instead focused on getting changed. As before, unfastening the dress was a test of fortitude, but Leia managed to grit her teeth through the pain with the hope that she'd soon be free of the garment for good. She pulled on a dark blue tunic and leggings and sat carefully on the edge of the bunk, dress in hand. Leia looked over the lining of her mother's dress and was slightly horrified by the sheer number of stains her wounds had caused. She knew they could be treated, but wasn't sure how well the delicate fabric would hold up.
The dress had a tiny pocket sewn into the lining, large enough for some small emergency item. Breha had shown Leia how to add similar pockets to the inside of dresses and jumpsuits years before. Even queens have secrets, she'd said mysteriously as she explained why she didn't have a tailor do the sewing. She'd then laughed and informed Leia that, really, the most exciting thing she'd ever carried in one of those pockets was a credit chip.
Leia ran her fingers over the delicate stitching on the pocket, stitching her mother had done. She felt something stiff cocooned in the thin fabric and looked in the pocket. There was a small piece of folded flimsi. When Leia pulled it out and unfolded it, she was greeted by her mother's careful handwriting.
My sweet Leilei,
You are an Organa. You are the best parts of both of us. Show them.
A lump materialized in Leia's throat, and the tears she'd laughed to avoid minutes before fell first in small drops, then in great streams. The note was short, written not with foreknowledge of the events to come but with the simple understanding that Leia had needed encouragement the night she'd worn the dress. Breha knew why she'd worn it — Breha had suggested it, forever in tune with how much could be said without words. The note itself was testament to that. There was no sign-off, no flowery declarations of her mother's love because she knew Leia knew. The note's existence was just one of a million pieces of evidence that her mother had loved her and believed in her and trusted her—
Trusted me. They trusted me.
Leia pressed the note to her heart and bit her lip, trying to staunch the flow of tears.
Mom, I don't know what to do. I don't know what the plan was. Surely not this. Surely.
Her mother, of course, did not answer, and the hollow ache that had taken up residence in Leia's chest since she'd stood on the bridge of the Death Star intensified. She trembled, memories of those few horrific moments surfacing. Leia pushed them away, tried to focus on anything else. She looked around the dim cabin, peered at the bulkhead next to the bunk. Handwriting in dark marker covered portions of the wall in small blocks and single lines: short lists written in a language Leia didn't recognize, the unmistakable format of coordinates, arithmetic too complex to be done mentally. Something about the messy scrawl was raw and human and real in a way Leia found steadying. She ran her finger over the longest list, tracing the letters slowly.
A light knock on the door caused Leia to jerk to attention, muscles tense. It took a moment for her to know what to do, her mind a slow-moving jumble. She dropped the note on the bunk, headed to the door, and palmed it open. Han stood there, hands in the pockets of his jacket.
"Others are here," he said. "Need everyone strapped in for takeoff. You can sit wherever, but there's an open seat in the cockpit if you want it."
Leia nodded numbly, and followed him as he made his way back to the cockpit. When they passed through the main hold, she saw two young men she'd never met talking with one another quietly. One of them did a double-take before choking out, "Your Highness," in Alderaanian.
Leia nodded at them, unsure of how to hide her weariness. She made eye contact, smiled as much as she could bear, and asked for their names. She expressed condolences for their own losses, both on-planet and off, and gently corrected another attempt at Your Majesty. She'd just realized that she'd somehow forgotten both their names less than two minutes into talking with them when Han hurried things along by insisting everyone strap in.
Leia followed after him into the cockpit, not keen on sitting with two Alderaanians she didn't know. They'd want to talk about home or they'd keep calling her 'Princess' or they'd otherwise remind her of everything she'd lost, and she didn't think she could handle that even for a few minutes. Not now, not with strangers.
As they approached the small space, Leia heard a familiar voice speaking to Chewbacca, asking questions. Leia stared at the man seated behind the copilot, his dark hair and and gentle-yet-firm expression.
"General Rieekan?" she said, her voice faint. She could barely believe the man was in front of her. She'd thought…Well, Leia hadn't specifically thought about Carlist Rieekan, but if anyone had asked her where she thought he was at the moment of Alderaan's destruction, she'd have said home.
The general turned in his seat to face her, an awed smile breaking out on his face. His eyes shone and Leia had to look away to stop her own tears from reappearing. General Rieekan stood, grasping her hand. "Princess," he said softly. "I'm so glad you're alive." He didn't say all right the way so many other had. He knew. They could never be all right with Alderaan gone.
The sight of someone she knew, someone her father trusted, who'd worked for her family for years, someone from home who she'd known at least by sight since she was a small child, broke something in Leia. She threw her arms around the older man as if he were family or a close friend. General Rieekan seemed to hesitate before returning the embrace. The wounds on Leia's back felt angry at the touch and her three broken ribs smarted, but she didn't care.
They had to part to follow Han's instructions to strap in. Leia sat behind the captain's seat and swallowed the lump in her throat that developed at seeing General Rieekan and thinking of home. "I thought…" Leia began after a moment. "I didn't know you weren't…home…"
"When your ship was captured, Bail asked me to oversee some things off-planet so he could be with your mother." He swallowed hard. "We didn't know…" He trailed off. "Took my group awhile to get back here or I would've found you sooner."
The explanation caused Leia's stomach to twist. It was as if some part of her, no matter how small, thought that maybe if General Rieekan had made it, then there was hope that her parents…But, no. They had been at the palace. Together. Leia inhaled deeply, trying to think of anything else.
She watched Han and Chewie go through their takeoff sequence for a moment before saying, "Captain Solo said we're rendezvousing near Belkadan. Any idea where we're going afterward?"
General Rieekan shook his head. "I'll get my orders same as you." He paused, hesitant to speak his mind for a moment before getting over it. "Your Highness, I'll be frank: I was assigned to this last-minute transport addition because General Dodonna wants you in a safe house and he thought you'd listen to me over him."
Leia bristled, feeling slightly betrayed. "I told General Dodonna that I have no interest in that. I want to fight. I want to do something."
"I thought as much. I let him know that I have no plans to try to stifle your desire to be involved, but said I'd pass his message on all the same."
"You lock her away and you'll be missing out on a crack shot," Han said as the Millennium Falcon lifted into the air. "She hit more stormtroopers than me an' Luke combined leavin' the Death Star. Practically rescued herself."
The compliment came out of nowhere and left Leia feeling flustered. She stared at the back of Captain Solo's head, trying to decide between a genuine response or a sarcastic joke. A quick internal assessment led her to the conclusion that the genuine response might bring tears to her eyes again, and she didn't think she could handle more tears. "I couldn't possibly have," she said dryly. "The plan was flawless without my intervention."
Han glanced back, shooting her a withering look, though Leia thought she detected a hint of a smile. "Wasn't my plan."
"Why do I get the feeling you're always able to say that due to never having one?"
Chewbacca chuckled. Han glared at him briefly. "Yeah, laugh all you want, buddy, but at the end of the day, you're stuck with me, not her."
"Considering that, it's an absolute miracle either of you are still alive."
Chewbacca responded, though Leia only caught bits of it. […stole years…]
Leia frowned. "'Stolen years'?"
"He said I've taken years off his life." Han looked at the Wookiee. "You're free to take off at any time you please, you know," he said pointedly. Leia got the distinct impression that there was more weight to the statement than Han's tone implied.
Chewbacca's tone read as indignant to Leia. […life…owe…]
Han made a dismissive noise and waved him off, apparently done with the topic. "'Bout to enter hyper," he warned.
Leia felt her entire body tense as she stared out the window. It wasn't until she saw the light from distant stars warp and disappear and felt the distinct, familiar shift into a hyperspace lane that she exhaled. She continued to stare out the window, her body and mind waiting to be thrown forward as the hyperdrive failed and they shuddered to sublight, but nothing happened. They'd made the jump. They were okay.
"…Your Highness?"
Leia jerked her head in General Rieekan's direction. She was trembling again. She took a deep breath to try to control it right as Han stood and wandered from the cockpit. "Apologies, I think I missed what you asked, General."
"Have you spoken to Mon? She was going to try to contact you before we left."
Leia shook her head. "I don't have any way…I destroyed my comlink before I was arrested. Datapad too."
General Rieekan seemed to go through several emotions one after the other, but settled on appearing to hover between relieved and proud. "Good. Good." He let the statement hang a moment before adding. "We'll get you in contact as soon as we can establish a secure connection again."
Leia nodded. She would be relieved to see Mon Mothma, another familiar person who she'd worked with repeatedly over the years. Mon was a stable presence. Surely she could help Leia get her bearings.
"I spoke to your father after Scarif," Rieekan continued quietly. "Leia, he was so proud of you."
The sentiment, the use of her first name without honorifics tacked on, the overall tone caused tears to tumble down Leia's cheeks. Chewbacca glanced at her, worried, when she let out a small gasp. Leia breathed in deeply, eyes closed. "They trusted me," she said softly. "They trusted me and now it's all gone. They're all gone."
"Princess," General Rieekan said, his tone so serious she felt compelled to look at him. Kind blue eyes looked back at her. "They trusted you, and the Death Star was destroyed."
Wiping her eyes roughly, Leia turned toward the vast view of space in front of them and nodded. "Right. Of course." She stared for what could have been an eternity or a fraction of a second — her sense of time was completely warped — before turning back to General Rieekan. "I have a favor to ask," she said softly.
"Anything, Your Highness."
"My mother was the last queen Alderaan will ever have." Leia winced at the idea, but continued, Han slipping past her to sit down as she spoke. "I don't want—I keep having to tell people not to use 'Your Majesty' and I just don't know if I can keep explaining…"
General Rieekan nodded. "I can make sure that message is distributed."
Leia sighed in relief. "Thank you."
"You sure you don't run this place?" Han interjected, an amused expression on his face.
Leia narrowed her eyes at him, the mere idea tying her stomach in knots. "Positive."
"You're givin' orders to generals 's all I'm sayin'. Never woulda flown at Carida."
[Leave her be], Chewbacca grumbled quietly. Leia smiled at him, more pleased than she wanted to admit that she'd understood his entire statement.
She rolled her eyes at Han. "Is that how you got kicked out?" she quipped before looking to General Rieekan in concern. She knew Han was joking — wasn't he? But, still… "That's not how I meant—I hope that wasn't overstep—"
General Rieekan shook his head. "I'm happy to do it." Leia noticed him focus on Han, his expression stern. The younger man ran his hand though his hair roughly.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the cockpit for a moment. Leia found herself getting lost staring out the window again, allowing the vast vacuum of space to devour her whole. She could hear her own breathing and not much else, certainly not anything being said around her.
It wasn't until she felt a firm tap on her shoulder that she pulled her attention back to the cockpit. Han stood near the cockpit entry, waiting on her to respond about…something.
"What?" she asked faintly.
"Was gonna heat up some leftover stew. Nothin' fancy, but it's better than ration bars and we need it eaten before it goes bad. You want any?"
Leia squinted up at him, confounded by how quickly — had it been quickly? How much time had passed? — the topic of conversation had changed. She looked to General Rieekan's seat and found it empty.
"He went to the 'fresher," Han supplied. "Stew?"
Leia shook her head, more concerned with how much had happened without her noticing than the hollowness in her belly. Chewbacca had apparently also left the cockpit while she'd stared into space. "I'm not hungry," she said, recalling her time spent vomiting mere hours earlier.
"Have you eaten at all since we picked you up?"
Leia stared at him blankly. The odd way he'd said it nearly made her smile — picked you up, as if she'd been hitchhiking her way across the galaxy and they'd happened upon her — but all her energy went toward formulating an answer to his question. Had she eaten since her last meal on the Death Star? "I think Luke and I split a ration bar?" she said. "Chewbacca gave me tea."
Han nodded. "'Kay, well, 'm not gonna force feed ya, but it needs to be eaten before it goes to waste." He paused with a smirk. "Can't go bossin' generals around on an empty stomach, Your Worship."
Leia glared at him but had to admit he wasn't wrong. She needed to eat, and stew sounded more palatable than rations. "Sure you can spare it? I probably have another ration bar somewhere—"
"I'll add your portion to the bill if it makes you feel better."
Leia rolled her eyes but stood to follow Han anyway. They passed Chewbacca on his way back to the cockpit as they made their way to the lounge. She was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, on following Han, on talking her stomach into maybe, possibly not ejecting the forthcoming meal, that she was startled by the sudden realization that the two young Alderaanian men she'd spoken to at the beginning of the flight were sitting at the table, already picking at bowls of stew. Leia forced a small smile and racked her brain for their names. She was usually so good with names — her father had said she was a natural politician the first time she'd attended a Senate meeting and was later able to name and describe every person she'd met throughout the day. It was unnerving to have had a conversation with two men — two fellow Alderaanians at that — and not recall a thing that had been said. She waved awkwardly at them without verbalizing a greeting.
The Millennium Falcon lacked a galley, but Han and Chewbacca appeared to make do with a single burner, a nanowave, a utility sink, and a small conservator all shoved against the bulkhead near the lounge. The stew was being heated on the burner. Leia recognized that it objectively smelled good, even though the thought of tasting it turned her stomach. You can eat, Leia. You always get queasy when you're stressed and it's always better once you eat. She almost laughed at her own assessment of the situation. Stressed. As if that weren't a comically extreme understatement.
Leia sat at the small lounge table with the two men and stirred the stew Han had given her. She raised a small spoonful to her mouth, chewing mechanically, ignoring the churning in her belly. No one attempted conversation, or if they did, Leia didn't hear them. She dutifully ate tiny spoonfuls of stew while staring blankly at the worn, scratched table top.
When General Rieekan joined them, she attempted to listen to the voices that surrounded her, but she only heard every few words. The rest sounded like mumbling, no matter who was speaking.
"…rest…debrief…call…"
"…off-planet…alive…heard from her…"
"…everyone…lost…everyone…"
Leia lifted her eyes once she'd eaten about half a bowl of stew. She looked from General Rieekan to the two young men to…no one else — Han had apparently left the lounge at some point — and said, "Excuse me. I think I'm going to get some rest."
She didn't wait for a response, though it was possible she moved slowly enough that it appeared as if she had; she wasn't sure. She located a small waste receptacle under the sink and stared for a moment when she saw brand-new, absolutely-not-close-to-expired, empty pouches labeled Nerf Stew in the garbage. She scraped her bowl out and rinsed it before entering Han's cabin, all the while laughing to herself.
Galaxy's worst mercenary, she thought amusedly as she dressed for bed.
Leia's hearing had always been what her mother called preternaturally good and what one of her older cousins had deemed freakish. She wasn't sure she agreed with either assessment, but ever since she was a young child, it had been nearly impossible for her to not eavesdrop without some level of effort — especially if her surroundings were dark and quiet. It was one of the reasons the past few days had been so jarring — she kept missing entire conversations, not hearing when someone spoke directly to her. She wasn't used to missing what went on around her, and she could only assume some combination of sleep deprivation and the drugs they'd given her on the Death Star had fried that part of her brain. Regardless, she found herself in an odd predicament: tucked away in Han's private cabin and likely presumed asleep, her environment quiet and dark and perfect for her particular type of eavesdropping, while he and General Rieekan had a quiet chat. A quiet chat that was not quiet enough.
She'd slept soundly, dreamlessly for what she estimated was a few hours before waking suddenly and seemingly without cause. As she lay in the dark, curled on her side, hand pressed to the bulkhead to help steady her mind and body, she couldn't help but hear the two men's voices drifting through the cabin door from the lounge.
"…to thank you, Captain Solo, for flying us. We could have waited for the transport, but we're all appreciative of the quiet given the circumstances."
"Job's a job," Han said nonchalantly. "Couldn't really afford to turn ya down."
A slight pause before General Rieekan said, "I'm concerned there may have been a misunderstanding. General Dodonna said you refused additional payment for this trip. I'll make sure you get what we owe you once we arrive."
A much longer stretch of silence, then Han spoke. "I work for what I earn. I'm not lookin' to cheat anyone out of anything." Another pause. "I think I was overpaid for the rescue. Shouldn'ta taken a reward like that for that sorta work. Like I said before, the Princess basically rescued herself anyway."
Leia could practically see the gentle smile on General Rieekan's face. "I see," he said. "So, you're trying to earn what's already been handed to you?"
"Fair's fair," Han said, not really answering the question. Leia imagined he'd shrugged lazily; it just seemed like the sort of gesture to accompany such a nothing statement. "She really is a hell of a shot," he added. "Wasn't just sayin' that."
Leia smiled, pressing her teeth to her bottom lip.
"You sound surprised."
"Oh…Not because—Not because she's a woman or anything. I just—I don't know much 'bout Alderaan, but I know it's known for being peaceful. Only tried to land there once and hightailed it outta there when they said I'd hafta surrender my blaster to disembark."
The image of Han Solo of all people trying to land on Alderaan with his perpetually visible holster and Chewbacca's use of bowcaster bolts as an accessory caused Leia to stifle a laugh. 'Hightailed it outta there'. I bet.
"Queen Breha and Bail wanted to insure that the Princess was prepared for anything that might come her way," General Rieekan explained.
"Bail's her dad?"
"Yes. He's—was a fantastic leader and a dear friend."
"Was the plan for her to take this whole thing over?"
General Rieekan chuckled sadly. "The plan was to have a free Galaxy before she was a toddler. Or, at least that was the hope. You can see how that's gone. No, Princess Leia is well-rounded and well-equipped, but it was assumed she'd stay in the political arena as long as possible and eventually take over as reigning monarch. None of us could have planned for this." He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with emotion. "She's the only thing Alderaanians have left. Without Queen Breha or Bail…She's going to be looked to by the Alliance and what's left of our people."
Leia's throat felt dry, her tongue thick. He was right; she was going to be looked to, watched carefully, followed — even more than before. Considering the last time she'd been trusted her with something important, it had ended in disaster, she wasn't looking forward to this inevitability.
Han snorted. "No pressure or anythin'," he quipped.
"It's the way of things. It can't be stopped," Rieekan said somewhat unhelpfully. "She was known to Alderaan and she's known to the Alliance. Her parents were respected leaders, and Princess Leia was mostly beloved. When people see her, they're going to think of Queen Breha and Bail. Even if she wanted to stay away from it all, she'd still be looked to. I'm glad she wants to join up and pitch in. We're going to need her." A long silence. Leia wondered if one of them had left the area and she'd missed it somehow, but General Rieekan spoke up again. "How does she seem, all things considered? My understanding is that she spent most of the evening here before we took off."
Leia frowned. It was strange that General Rieekan was asking Han about her. They barely knew one another.
"We just met," Han said. "I don't know her well enough to say for sure. But seems to me she's in shock; saw it a lot on Mimban during the Occupation. I think you got maybe a week before she breaks if she keeps doin' what she's doin'."
A flash of heat traveled up Leia's neck and cheeks. The words felt like a betrayal somehow, like any earlier encouragement about her marksmanship or even his assumption that the person talking about Organa's leadership was referring to her had all been lies. She set her jaw and dug her fingernails into the heel of her hand. I didn't break for them; I'm not going to break now.
General Rieekan didn't argue with Han. "She was apparently sparse on the details about her time in captivity. Didn't tell General Dodonna much."
Leia sat up. She had half a mind to walk out into the lounge and stop the conversation from going any further, but Han beat her to it. "'f you're wanting details, General, you'll hafta ask her."
General Rieekan's response was so fast, Leia felt some reassurance creep back in. She lay back down on the bunk again. "Oh, I'm not looking for details. I'm trying to decide how long I can reasonably request we defer the psychological evaluation that's required upon signing up. I wouldn't pass it right now. I don't expect any Alderaanian would."
Leia's heart thudded. Psychological evaluation? Does he…does he think I'm crazy? Broken? The earlier sense of betrayal reared its head again. She knew—logically, she knew—that all new recruits underwent a psych eval. Luke would have to do one, too, since he was planning on staying. The only reason he'd been able to fly without one was because they'd been desperate for pilots in an emergency situation and Biggs Darklighter had personally vouched for him. But this talk of deferring, this conferring with strangers about how she was doing…Why not ask—
She blinked. There was no one to ask, no one who both knew her before Scarif and who had been around her the past week. Han actually was the person who knew the most about what she'd been through, and she was pretty sure she'd only been so open with him because she had the assurance that she wouldn't have to see him after a couple of days. No one else understood the context of her actions and no one else was going to. She'd lucked out with Han; she'd gotten her experiences off her chest talking with a man who it seemed was the very definition of reticence when it came to any serious topic, and he was going to leave as soon as they reached the outpost. She wouldn't have to think about anything she'd told him, anything that had happened again. None of it needed to affect her ability to work with the Alliance.
"I'm no psychiatrist, but if you're just anglin' for her to pass, I'd either do it as soon as we land if she's still numbed out or wait at least…" Han trailed off. "Kriff, I dunno. How long's it take to bounce back from somethin' like this?"
Leia felt her lip tremble slightly and pressed her teeth into the soft flesh lightly again to stop it. How long, indeed. How could anyone possibly know that?
"There will be no bouncing back, Captain Solo," Rieekan said softly. "Only moving forward. I don't know how long it will take for any of us. I suspect some will never recover. We've already had word of pockets of suicide spikes amongst Alderaanian refugees, and it's only been a few days. Just anecdotes, but I don't doubt their legitimacy. I don't know what any of this will look like long-term. How could any of us know?" His voice became thick with emotion. "I lost my wife, both my boys, and most everyone else I know in a single second. How does one bounce back from that?"
"Sorry to hear that," Han said quietly.
Another long silence, and Leia thought the men might be done speaking. She was surprised at just how forthright they'd both been. Then again, General Rieekan was probably operating the same as she was: just holding on until he could get a moment to breathe. And Han seemed to have some level of respect for the older man — he'd even called him General earlier, something Leia noticed he hadn't done for any other officer he'd encountered. Maybe mutual respect coupled with exhaustion led to quiet confessions that wouldn't otherwise surface.
"You graduated from Carida?" General Rieekan said.
Han waited a moment before responding. "Got kicked out of Carida. 't's how I ended up on Mimban."
"Oh, she was serious?" The older man sounded surprised. "I thought that was just a barb."
"Pretty sure it was a barb. But she was also serious."
"You can't give her ammunition like that," General Rieekan said, clearly amused. "Princess Leia has her mother's wit and her father's tendency to speak his mind. She's been verbally eviscerating Senators on a regular basis for two years."
Leia smiled slightly at the comparison to her parents. Tears flooded her eyes again and she didn't attempt to hold them back this time. The rolled down her cheeks and onto the pillow in the bunk, the droplets making quiet impact on the fabric.
"Well, I'm outta here as soon as we get you to your outpost. I'll let 'er have that one."
General Rieekan cleared his throat. "You know, we could use your skillset and experience. Probably doesn't pay as much as smuggling, but you'd be making a real difference. We'd take prior experience and service into account when deciding your rank."
"All due respect, General, I kinda got my own thing goin' here. I can't be attachin' myself to a cause."
"Fair enough. If you change your mind, you let me know."
"Sure thing," Han responded, thought Leia thought it obvious that he would not be changing his mind. A pause, then some movement. "Better go swap out with Chewie."
"Appreciate the drink, Captain."
"If anyone needs it right now, 't's you four," Han said wryly.
Quiet again; this time, Leia assumed, it would last the rest of the night. Everything that she'd heard the two men say swirled in her mind and made her feel as if she were drowning. Han Solo was truly the worst mercenary in the known universe. Alderaanians were despairing, killing themselves. She was going to be looked to whether she liked it or not. She was going to have to have a psychological evaluation. Han Solo thought she was well on her way to breaking.
He doesn't know me. He's leaving. I'm never going to see him again. His opinion hardly matters.
Except, she'd been pleased when he'd talked about her being a good shot, about her taking charge on the Death Star to General Rieekan. She couldn't have it both ways — either his opinion counted or it didn't. Leia wasn't sure which she preferred.
She stared at the wall next to her, attempting to make out the handwriting she'd seen earlier in the dim illumination of the tiny emergency lights embedded in the bulkhead near the door. Her ears pricked at the sound of man's a shaky, quiet sob outside of the cabin. Leia touched the bulkhead next to her again, tracing a string of digits that made up a coordinate with her finger, trying her hardest to block out the sound of the general crying.