The conference table was long. It wasn't wooden, and it didn't have a brocade cloth down the center, the beautiful stitching. There was no beam of sunshine or vase of flowers and Leia's father wasn't there but otherwise it was the same as when she sat with him in his office, the day he didn't want her to take the plans.
Everything had been so beautiful, so careful.
And for what.
The struggle in herself was identical but also opposite. She had faced her father's reluctance with unspoken defense. She'd been, truth be told, a little hurt by it. This group around the cold metal folding table believed her, believed in her, the whole concept of this war, and ideas were flowing but her father cursed her. His fears had come true. He had lost her, before she lost him and everything else. She didn't have a lot now, but Han was at the top of her list and the ideas suggested she might need to lose him too.
They were planning again. Pilots and General Rieekan and for some reason Lieutenant Taryn and Leia's field commander. Evac bags sat on the floor beside the chairs. Immediate clearance was given for X-Wings and a transport and the base's status would change to yellow alert.
The transport was too big. So much larger than the Tantive IV. Leia kept thinking that. How empty it would be.
Rieekan's elbows were on the table, shoulders hunched and hands clasped. Was there a reason they were clasped? Was he holding something in, something back?
Tarkin's were relaxed, behind his back. Vader's had dug into her shoulders.
Leia peeled her gloves off and set them on her lap. A weird flush was creeping under her skin. She rubbed her brow once and tried to listen.
Luke had stood from the table and was leaning an elbow on the back of Wedge Antilles's chair, pointing at coordinates on the portable holo star chart with his other hand. The image of Ord Mantell floated over the table, a planet covered in pink haze. The pilots had their own conversation about a vantage point from orbit. Rieekan's eyes moved from face to face. He was listening intently, but pilots understood space differently and he had to accept their knowledge.
"It's not just point A to point B," Wedge was trying to explain. "Breaking orbit to a traveler is oversimplified. They think either they've left a planet's atmosphere and will be in space shortly, or that the landing cycle will begin soon." He looked around at everyone seated at the table. "Right? But it's more than that. We got to figure where to maneuver. We've got to work out a when."
"If an orbital path were this room," Luke straightened while he took up the explanation, "it's a question of do we wait at the ceiling or the floor. Only it's much bigger, of course. Do you see? We've got to get to the Empire fast, before they see us. We'll jam frequencies and stay in the shadow of the sun as much as we can, but we've got to be close so we can hit them hard. It won't be a star destroyer, will it?"
"Unlikely," Rieekan answered.
The pilots went back to muttering and plotting the entry point of the Empire over Ord Mantell.
The consideration of orbit had nothing to do with Leia's part. She really hadn't thought much of it before, Wedge was right. So it was hard to concentrate on it. She felt a little off. Sort of hot in her chest. Strange thoughts crept into her focus, like a fever. As she listened to the pilots she thought of the bird of her dream, and thought, that was them exactly. Perched on high in wait, a patient distant view, ready to snatch.
If it went well. It should. She had no idea.
She felt different than the day she last met with her father. Younger. Like she had never been presented with the truth and was too stupid to know better, and now that was all she knew. He might be able to talk her out of it today, if this was the Leia who met with him.
She'd never felt young. She was young, certainly, but from early on the weight of centuries had been imparted to her, and time aged; everyone knew that.
As for truth, well, that was an obscure thing, wasn't it? It was evident the goddess Time didn't reveal it, since her father died with his secrets. Maybe there was no such thing as truth.
And that made her feel old, and bitter. It was such a struggle, life, living here, getting up and feeling cold, never knowing what was going to happen or why.
"Your Highness," General Rieekan called gently from the far end of the table and at the same time Luke leaned down close to her and said, "I'll see you on Ord Mantell", and her head spun a bit. Was Luke excited or being a friend? He wouldn't be on Ord Mantell.
"You'll be going in blind dirtside," General Rieekan said. The pilots had departed to meet their ships on the Prairie. Only Lieutenant Taryn and the field commander held their seats. He had a talent for organization. She should involve him a lot more than she had.
Keeping her elbow close to her chest, Leia rubbed the back of her neck. She wanted to open the throat of her snowsuit but she refrained. "Yes," she agreed. There'd been no word from Han. There wouldn't be. The Which L? was a breach of protocol and either he was behaving or he was in trouble.
"What about a landing site?" Rieekan asked.
Land the big, empty transport. Leia remembered the shabby condition of the warehouse. Hadn't Han said something about the roof caving in?
"There are casinos nearby," she heard herself answer. She was remembering all kinds of things. Han's lack of interest in Lieutenant Taryn. The woman in the ancient parchment factory. Floating in orbit over the smuggler's moon, watching and waiting. "Within walking distance from the warehouse district. We can get a docking reservation at one. And some rooms, I suppose. We won't raise suspicions if we book ourselves as a tour group."
"I'll do it," Lieutenant Taryn volunteered.
"Get with a slicer. Make sure they hide the origin of the message," General Rieekan told her. "It may be for nothing," he added with optimistic caution. "Captain Solo may be conducting business as usual. On the other hand, Ord Mantell is a regional territory of the Empire. If anything, because the Moffs like to vacation there."
"From the perspective of a native," Lieutenant Taryn put in, "we also would prefer the credits flowing into the casinos stay out of the hands of the Hutts. Ord Mantell has long appreciated the Empire, I'm afraid to say. The feeling is the Empire protects local interests."
Leia tapped her copy of the transcript everyone was issued for the strategy meeting. "It's clear the Empire has an arrangement with the Hutts. The tip off came from them. It's too bad the locals don't see how corrupt they are." She turned to Rieekan. "Is there any Rebel activity there?"
"Nothing organized. Nothing we know about."
Leia nodded. "Will you permit us to contact Captain Solo?"
Rieekan rubbed an ear while he considered. "No," he finally said.
Leia nodded. "I understand."
"I'll leave it up to your judgment, Your Highness. The Rogues are there to make the Imperial craft retreat. It's got to be quick. In and out. If the Empire is given time, they can regroup for full scale. We can't let that happen."
Prevent Ord Mantell from going to the Empire, he was saying. Leave Han to his fate. Luke wouldn't like that, Leia thought. Maybe that's why he said he'd be on the planet. The Death Star had taught him to think of the future, to use the present. It had taught her to just be present.
She was starting to tremble. She made a show of pulling on her gloves though her palms had splotches of heat. She told her field commander, "Assemble a team. I'll meet you in the transport."
She rushed out before Rieekan could call her back. She knew what he would say. He would ask her to be careful, for her father's sake. That was one more responsibility Leia didn't need.
She left the briefing room. The command center was monitoring the skies and ground, as it always did. Quiet but attentive. She had discovered the Imperial hacking the same way. Like the bird, she thought, her thoughts circling around again. Like a queen, sitting on her throne. Removed. Distant.
It was hard to remember Han right now. Her past, the lack of it, the goneness of it, kept getting in her way. She should remember him. She furrowed her brow, determined, but small memories became buried under ones that never left her alone.
How quickly she had forgotten. These were life lessons, and she had failed to commit to them. Han would be a name. She saw Alderaan as the goddesses knew her, spun from the stars, but it was framed by the viewport of the Death Star.
She moved, but also she stood still, on the bridge, Darth Vader's fingers grinding into her shoulders.
In a moment, she knows what will happen. She will never feel safe again. A part of her obliterated, just like her planet.
It is one of her heartbreaks, that she didn't know, that in her conceit she couldn't imagine.
Leia gave her head a shake, to reset her mind. This wouldn't do. Should she stop at the medbay? Get something for this pounding headache? How to explain vulnerable, out of focus, not really here?
Without her, as if it was beyond her control, the bridge of the Death Star showed like a scene before her. She told herself it was a memory, and she could relive it differently. She could struggle under Darth Vader's fingers, she could scream nonstop, claw Tarkin's eyes out, rip a blaster from a soldier's hands and fire it endlessly, try until she died.
And all the while the beauty of the planet Alderaan never left the viewport, and a gloved hand lowered the lever to release the laser, Darth Vader didn't react, and she screamed and died and her father waited, and in the end her memory made no difference.
Leia stood there, panting. She forced herself to take a step, to leave the Death Star. Not with Luke or Han. Memory was unreliable.