A/N: I first came up with this plot point in May of 2023, and months later debated whether or not to include it when some very similar real-world events occurred. I decided to keep it in. This story has always included rough plot points, especially when it pertains to the horrors of war, and I do my best to touch on those topics without resorting to graphic descriptions or dwelling on said topics for shock value. I hope I have done the same here.
That being said, this chapter has never been and still is not an allegory, and I don't want meaning read into the story where it was not intended. Any resemblance to real-world events can be attributed to the fact that humans through the ages have been, to steal a line from the text, predictable in their cruelty toward those they consider their enemies.
CW: genocide, bombing, canon-typical violence.
Leia stared out the windows of the turret, looking for something, any sign of life. She was met only with rubble, rocks, and uprooted trees. She lowered herself to her knees slowly, the deck plates hard and cold against her joints.
Her comm activated, and Han's voice filled the turret. "Don't think it's safe to land."
Leia shook her head as if he could see her, but couldn't locate words.
"Leia? I think we need to leave."
She stared at the ground numbly until she saw a flash of something below: white fabric waving for their attention, a flag of sorts. Leia scrambled to her feet and rushed out of the turret, running at top speed toward the cockpit.
"There's someone down there!" she cried. "I saw—they were waving white fabric, trying to get our attention."
Han glanced at her, then back at the surface of the moon, a concerned expression on his face. "Where?"
Leia jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. "We just flew over them thirty seconds ago. I saw from the turret."
He nodded. "Okay. Okay, Chewie, we're turnin' back."
Chewie let out a concerned warble, but followed Han's lead. Leia sat on the edge of her seat, ready to run outside as soon as they touched ground. Han and Chewie picked a spot that seemed safest and landed the ship carefully. Before Leia could open the ramp and bolt outside, Han placed a hand on her wrist.
"Need to see what the sensors pick up first," he said. "It doesn't look like a radioactive blast zone, but…just in case."
She nodded numbly and waited for Chewie to relay the sensor readings. Han left the cockpit while Leia stared outside, eyes glued to the waving white fabric a couple dozen meters away. We're coming, she thought. We're going to help you.
Han returned with three filtered masks to help with the dust, handing one to Leia and one to Chewie. The sensor program finally finished its analysis and apparently deemed the surrounding areas safe. Leia blinked and was standing at the exit ramp, waiting impatiently for it to lower all the way. She had no memory of walking across the ship.
The ramp touched soil, and Leia walked quickly outdoors, Han on her heels. She sprinted toward the white fabric, the signal she had seen as they flew overhead. As she neared the spot, she realized with a sickening feeling that the fabric wasn't being held by a person; or, rather, a person wasn't causing it to move. It was a flowy capelet attached to the shoulders of a garment, a design that some part of Leia's mind dimly acknowledged looked like a knock-off of one of her mother's dresses. Up close, it was far dingier than it had appeared from the Falcon. The capelet twisted and twirled in the wind, only tethered to the ground by the body wearing it.
Leia dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she reached for the wrist of the woman in the capelet. She might be…she might be alive, unconscious but still breathing; it was hard to say. Leia brushed her fingers over cold, pale skin and recoiled, staring at the smooth pile of braids embedded with dust on the back of the woman's head. A dark stain streaked from her ear canal and down her cheek.
"Leia?" Han's voice pierced through the wind whipping around them.
She blinked rapidly and looked at him. He was kneeling next to her — when had he dropped to the ground? — his hand resting solidly on her arm.
"We need to check the entire settlement," she said firmly.
Han's expression crumpled slightly. "Sweetheart—"
Leia shook her head vigorously and shoved herself to her feet. "We need to check."
She walked the perimeter of the settlement, edging inward for a closer look when she saw anything that wasn't dust, rubble, or ash. She found the remnants of the greenhouse, transparisteel shattered into millions of shards, durasteel frame twisted while softened by heat, the mangled beams hardened into their new shape by the chilly air.
Han wandered off at some point as she picked through the remains of the settlement, her thoughts quiet, too quiet, so quiet, it felt nearly torturous. When she rounded the corner of one of the burned buildings, he stood doubled over at the waist near the half-destroyed structure — the medical building, she realized after a moment.
"Don't go in there," he gasped. She met his gaze. He was covered in dust and ash, the ground near his feet soaked with something. He gripped his mask in his hand, a haunted look in his eyes.
Leia shook her head and strode quickly to an opening in what remained of the building, ignoring Han's attempts to call her back to his side. She stopped the moment her feet hit the duracrete foundation and felt Han bump into her back. He'd apparently been right behind her.
The interior of the building was charred beyond recognition, everything that wasn't made of durasteel reduced to ash. A scent hovered in the shell of the building and seeped into her mask, something she couldn't quite place. It wasn't familiar, exactly, but some part of her mind classified it as tangentially related to her time on the rack on the Death Star.
Burnt flesh, she realized with sudden and undesired clarity.
Leia's stomach lurched at the thought, and she barely had time to turn to the side and rip off her mask before it emptied itself onto the ground. The scent flooded her nose as she vomited, causing her to heave a second time. Han caught her as her knees buckled again and hauled her against his chest, arm firm around her waist while the other slid behind her shoulders.
"Sweetheart, we gotta get outta here," he said.
She shook her head, tears flooding her eyes and streaming down her face. "We can't leave them!" she shrieked.
"Leia," Han said, tremor in his voice, "Leia, we gotta — we don't know if any of this is boobytrapped or not. We shouldn't've even left the ship. We gotta…We'll comm Rieekan, and see if someone can send a team out, but we aren't equipped…"
She didn't recall walking back to the Falcon, nor did she remember how she ended up collapsed on the bench in the lounge, curled on her side with her head resting on Han's thigh as she choked on her own breath.
"…not good," she heard him say. He stroked between her shoulder blades gently as he spoke to someone on his comm. "We moved to a nearby moon. Haven't checked the fueling station yet, but I'd approach with caution. This has Imps written all over it…" A long pause. "Was hard to tell. Most of the settlement's been flattened, but it looks like they trapped some of 'em in a coupla buildings and burned—" Han broke off abruptly and cleared his throat, pressing his thumb to the base of Leia's neck gently. "It's bad, sir."
He ended the comm after another minute or two of back-and-forth. Leia stared at the folds in his dust-covered shirt in silence for what felt like a long time.
"Did you see any bodies?" Leia finally asked faintly. She rested her hand on his hip.
He hesitated. "Saw remains, yeah."
"Remains?"
Han slid his fingertips against her scalp, thumb circling slowly on her neck. He shook his head slightly. "In the med…You didn't…" He paused. "Figured you saw since you got sick, too."
She shook her head as much as the barrier of his leg would allow. "The smell," she said. "I couldn't place it at first, but…when they burned me, it was similar…" She inhaled deeply. "Why…why would they…They would have been so scared—Why not just—" Leia broke off, curling her knees closer to her chest. "Han, there were babies," she whispered before rolling sobs overtook her.
"Yeah," he said, voice thick.
Leia felt a drop of liquid hit her cheek from above and heard Han sniff. She squeezed his hip softly. He brushed the moisture from her face with gentle fingers and sniffed again.
Leia heard Chewie enter the lounge but didn't turn to look at him. He warbled softly, gently to Han. [Cub, what is our plan?]
"Rieekan's gettin' in touch with Command. Said he'll comm back shortly."
Leia sat up quickly, her head spinning. "I need to be on the Command comm—"
Han placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. "He said we should both be on it. He'll comm when they're ready."
She nodded and slumped forward, resting against him. Han held her, tucking her head under his chin. Leia took a shaky breath, nose pressed to his neck, another sob racking her body. Her stomach twisted and turned every time she thought of the charred medical building. Every part of her trembled.
A shudder coursed through Han, and Leia felt him press a long kiss to her hair. He tightened his arms around her, a sort of desperation in the embrace, as if he were searching for comfort himself in addition to offering it. She slid her arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt in her fists.
An eternity passed. Leia was vaguely aware of Chewie hovering nearby, and a significant part of her wanted to separate herself from Han and comfort their friend as well. Chewie had, after all, been to the settlement as many times as Han had. He had seemed friendly with every person he'd encountered, and Leia imagined seeing this sort of destruction might make him think of his home. Kashyyyk had not been destroyed by the Empire, but they had killed and abused countless Wookiees. They were predictable in their cruelty, that was certain.
She wanted to have the sort of strength required to pull away from Han and at least check on Chewie; maybe give him a hug, the way she had comforted a grieving Luke as they'd fled the Death Star, her own grief on ice, to be thawed at some later time, once she was able to fully acknowledge it. That later time had never quite materialized; there was always something that needed attention, always something more pressing than picking at covered wounds. And now, she thought she might be feeling the weight of several years' worth of grief all at once.
She couldn't…she couldn't do this right now. They couldn't just…They needed an action plan. They needed…they needed to…
Her comm chimed a half second before Han's. Leia attempted to move, even imagined herself releasing her grip on him so she could pull her comm from her pocket, but her arms seemed made of durasteel — stiff and too heavy to lift. Han pressed another kiss to her hair before dropping one of his arms to retrieve him comm.
When he answered, his voice sounded rough. "Solo." Then, "Yeah, we're all—" Then, "Ah, lemme ask." Han rubbed her back with his free hand for a moment before touching her cheek. "Leia," he murmured.
She loosened her embrace enough to pull back and lift her head, opening weary, irritated eyes to look at him. "What?" she whispered.
Han looked a little pale, though the faint redness of the skin around his eyes made them seem greener than usual. "Command wants us on holo."
Leia bit her lip, attempting to conjure up some semblance of desire to speak with the members of Command, but she couldn't seem to get past the heavy shroud of shock and grief that weighed down every centim of her body and mind. She swallowed, took a couple of breaths, trying to force her mind to focus on anything — anything — other than the charred building, the obliterated greenhouse, the children—
Anything. Anything. She could—-if she could see them, the members of Command, something in her would fall into place. She'd be able to speak like she normally did, operate like she normally did, focus on the next thing to do.
She nodded at Han and they moved to the dejarik booth along with Chewie so they could set his comm down on the table and maintain a stable projection. When she saw the faces of Mon and Carlist in miniature, tears flooded her eyes again. They had…they had trusted her and this…this had happened.
Leia focused her eyes on the holo of Jan Dodonna. He looked sympathetic, but he wasn't likely to inspire more tears to fall. Not like Mon or, kriff, Carlist. She straightened her spine and gripped Han's hand in one of hers, Chewie's in the other.
"Thank you for joining us," Mon began.
Leia could feel Mon's eye's on her, even though she wasn't looking, even through holo. She continued to stare at the kind-but-stoic image of Jan.
"Your Highness—" The title burned like an unforgiving, unyielding fire, consuming Leia from the inside out. "—we understand something terrible has happened. I know this is difficult, but we need as many details as possible."
Nodding, Leia cleared her throat softly, eyes still drilling into Jan's projection. She tried to recall what had given her the ability to control her reactions so thoroughly on the trip from the Death Star to Yavin, tried to piece together whatever special combination of rage, determination, and strength had allowed her to address Han, Chewie, Luke, and even the generals on Yavin with authority.
Her voice was shaky, but it was at least louder than a whisper. "The Alderaanian settlement has been destroyed. We detected no evidence of radiation and thought we spotted a survivor in need of help, so Captain Solo and I walked through the settlement on foot while Chewbacca remained near the ship. The person we spotted was deceased, and no others made themselves visible. There was evidence that the medical facility was incinerated with civilians—" Her voice broke abruptly, another horrifying realization hitting her. Tish. Leia took a shallow breath and forced the words to leave her mouth. "We saw no evidence of survivors."
"You've moved, though," Carlist said. "You're somewhere safe?"
Leia looked up at Han. He confirmed that they had moved, and some distant wisps of memories from maybe an hour prior appeared. She now recalled hyperventilating on the floor in the lounge as Han and Chewie moved the ship, recalled Han returning and sitting next to her, pulling her gasping form into his arms. She had been able to time her breaths to his — probably still too quick and mildly irregular, but better than they had been — and had sat with her eyes screwed shut and her ear pressed to his chest until he had suggested moving to the bench while he commed Carlist.
She remembered those flashes of action, but she didn't know where they were. She wasn't even sure how long they'd been flying before landing again.
Han spoke quietly, his stare settled on Carlist's holo projection. He looked and sounded more in shock by the moment, but he at least made sense as he described where they were — on a different moon nearby, one that was too small to have its own atmosphere — and promised to transmit their coordinates shortly.
"And you believe the fueling station to be compromised?" Jan asked.
"We didn't get a chance to head that way," Han said. "Had planned on hittin' it on the way out, but figured we shouldn't fly that direction now given the condition of the settlement."
"Do you need fuel to make it back to the outpost?"
"We're not leaving," Leia interjected before Han could answer. "We can't leave them."
Han squeezed her hand as a heavy silence fell over the group.
"We're sending a team equipped to scour the location," Jan said carefully. "If there are survivors that you missed, we will of course—"
Her chest seized at the idea of missed survivors and again just thinking about flying away, leaving them without burying or taking them—
Where? Where would we even take them? They had no home planet on which to be buried, had had no place to go while they'd been alive. Their remains—
The word remains looped in Leia's mind, only interrupted by Han squeezing her hand again, saying something about preferring to wait for fuel if the team that was headed their way could make it in the next day or so.
Leia's head swam. She stared at Jan until the end of the conversation with Command, unable to bear looking at Carlist or Mon. She nodded after questions, forgetting almost immediately what she had agreed to, spoke a few more sentences, trusting that some part of her training had kicked in and she was making sense. When the comm ended, she stared at the spot where Jan's projection had been, unable to decide on her next move.
Han pulled her close as soon as they were away from the eyes of High Command. Leia closed her eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, desperately trying to ground herself with the rhythm of his breaths, but nothing seemed to calm her own racing, skipping mind. Instead, it was inundated with images of their faces, twisted in fear and pain, as their names integrated themselves into the swirling spiral of her thoughts.
Ysta. Caari. Lola. Nairu.
Leia's lips moved in silent tribute as she added the names to the list of the lives lost under her care, when she was supposed to be responsible for them. When she could think of no others in the moment, she repeated the list, tacking on more names as they came to her.
Ysta. Caari. Lola. Nairu. Zylle.
Ysta. Caari. Lola. Nairu. Zylle. Tish.
Ysta. Caari. Lola. Nairu. Zylle. Tish. Col. Breha. Bail.
She wept into the evening. Han held her tightly, murmuring comforting words and stroking her back with strong hands. Leia buried her face in the crook of his neck, sobs rolling through her body. Hours or possibly years passed, her eyelids and limbs and every other part of her felt heavier with each passing minute. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her field of vision was filled with brown fur.
Leia lifted her aching head and Chewie warbled gently, a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Chewie?" she asked, her voice strained and raspy. "Where's Han?"
[The team will be landing soon and he needed to talk them through finding the correct spot. He asked me to sit with you so you wouldn't be alone.]
Of course he did, Leia thought fondly.
"Are you doing okay?" she rasped.
He squeezed her shoulder lightly and made a soft, mournful warble. [I am very sad.]
His words were simple, but Leia found she didn't want or need him to say anything more. She was also very sad; she was so sad, no number of complex words could possibly begin to describe how she felt.
"Me too," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
[I think you need some water, Princess, and something to eat.]
She closed her eyes, very aware of how nauseous she felt at the mere mention of food, and shook her head. "I can't eat, Chewie."
[I will not make you yet. Will you drink something?]
Leia nodded, swiping a few tears from her puffy eyes. Chewie stood, patting her back gently, and shuffled across the lounge to dispense a glass of water. He brought her the drink, and Leia sipped at it trepidatiously, wary of her stomach lurching with any additional content.
Her nausea didn't abate, but the water didn't make it worse. She finished the glass and handed it back to Chewie before lying on the bench facing the bulkhead.
She heard footsteps on the deckplates behind her but didn't move. Han's warm hand rested on her shoulder, and he pressed his lips to her temple. Leia tilted her head slightly to look at him.
"Got the first crew landing in a minute. Gonna figure out a plan from there."
She closed her eyes again, the ache in her head growing worse by the second. "How long has it been?" she whispered.
"'Bout five hours. They called in the closest squadron for the initial sweep. We'll be waitin' for fuel for at least ten more hours."
A detail from earlier in the day rose to the surface of her mind. "I didn't think we needed fuel when we landed." They had discussed stopping at the fueling station out of an abundance of caution, but she was certain they had enough to make it back to Saijo.
Leia heard Han sit next to where she rested her head. She felt light fingers stroke along her hairline. "They were sendin' the second team anyway, and makin' it back to the outpost would cut it close, especially if we need to make any extra jumps. And, you said you didn't want to leave, so it's buying us some time before they can order us back."
"I don't know what I want any more," she whispered. Leaving them — leaving bodies and brutally charred remains without a burial or some recognition of their lives seemed like a betrayal of the worst kind, but the idea of returning to the scene if it was declared safe to do so sickened her. Leia pressed her teeth into the knuckle of her thumb.
Han still stroked the edges of her hair, work-roughened fingers scraping lightly against her skin. "Yeah," he murmured.
"Who's landing now?"
"Commando unit that was on their way to Home One."
"And the team bringing fuel?"
"Blues."
Leia opened her eyes and pushed herself up slightly in order to look at Han more easily. "They're sending a flight squadron?"
He studied her, concern obvious in his expression, causing Leia to wonder if the very topic had been discussed in front of her and promptly slipped from her mind. He didn't say one way or another, though; he just touched her cheek gently and said, "That's what they said, yeah."
The dull ache in her head felt more pronounced as she tried to reason through the rationale for an entire flight squadron being sent on top of commandos. The latter were better equipped to deal with the situation; a flight squadron only made sense if they were anticipating another attack…or planning some sort of retaliatory strike.
"Good," she said, not bothering to tamp down the rage she felt building in her chest. The Empire deserved whatever the Alliance was willing to do in response to this heinous, monstrous crime.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position. The lounge spun and a familiar floating sensation washed over her head. Leia shut her eyes tight against the visual disturbance, counting on it calming down after a moment.
When she ventured a peak through half-closed eyes to determine if she could open them fully, Han was looking at her, his expression pained. Her field of vision seemed stable, at least. Leia sighed in relief as he rested his hand on her shoulder, a solid, comforting gesture that helped anchor her to the present. "All right?" he asked.
She clasped her hand around the hand he had planted on her shoulder and shrugged weakly. Before she could formulate an answer, Han's comm crackled to life, causing her to jump.
The commandos had landed.
"I should meet with them," she said.
Han shook his head. "I can walk 'em through—"
"I need to," Leia cut him off.
He nodded — though that pained expression had reappeared — and squeezed her shoulder lightly. "'Kay."
The Falcon was far smaller than the transport the commando squadron arrived in, so Han and Leia donned breathing masks and insulated jumpsuits to meet with the officers face-to-face on the larger ship. She found the familiar movements of suiting up either comforting or distracting — she couldn't rightfully distinguish between the two at that moment — and, by the time they walked the dozen or so barren and chilly meters between ships, she felt far more equipped to handle whatever came next than she had for the past several hours.
Once they had boarded the transport and the hatch had closed, a Dressellian officer introduced himself as Major Lokmarcha and led Leia and Han to the largest common area on the ship, where a dozen or so commandos were gathered.
"Princess Leia. Captain Solo," Major Lokmarcha said as a sort of gruff introduction. "We were told very little aside from the general location. What are we about to walk into?"
Leia looked at the faces of the commandos. At least a third of them looked young — too young. They shouldn't have the experience required to join the commandos, to specialize in something as awful as war.
'We're all far too young for any of this, Leia.' Tish's words from their first day as cabinmates on Home One echoed in her mind. Reminded of the young doctor's fate along with the others, she felt a sharp pang of guilt followed quickly by some of the most hideous rage she'd ever experienced.
"I trust at least some of you have been to the Settlement Station." The majority of the officers nodded in affirmation, so Leia continued, her voice tight and even. She gave a brief overview of the purpose of the settlement and the location relative to the station, what had been there a few weeks prior versus what they had just seen, the concerns about the fueling station itself being either a trap or destroyed entirely.
After answering a few questions and assuring the group that they'd remain in their current position until the Blue Squadron arrived at the very least, Major Lokmarcha accompanied Leia and Han back to the transport's hatch. Before slipping her breathing mask back on, Leia looked at the officer.
"What is typically done with bodies in a situation like this?" she asked, her voice low.
Major Lokmarcha barely raised an eyebrow. "Mass grave, if we've got the time."
She met his gaze directly, trying, trying to keep her voice as even as it had been when discussing the situation with the rest of the commandos. "Please find the time."
Both of Major Lokmarcha's eyebrows raised this time. "That an order, Your Highness?"
Leia pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Use your best judgement. Don't put anyone in unnecessary danger. But if you can…" She capped off her request with a sharp nod.
"Copy that," he said, matching her nod with one of his own. "We'll do what we can."
They heard no news until after the Blue Squadron dropped off fuel and left the tiny moon where the Falcon had landed, and Leia was able to check in with General Rieekan. The fueling station had apparently been suspiciously intact — so suspiciously that the commandos had decided to steer clear of it entirely, and the Blues were going to be ordered to drop detonators.
"We believe they installed camouflaged landmines at the station," Rieekan said. "And, if they followed protocol, those mines are being monitored remotely. We want all personnel not directly involved in the blitz to leave the vicinity before they are detonated. We expect an Imperial sweep of the area as soon as they're triggered."
Leia nodded, attempting to take in the information. Mines made sense; they were a passive attack that didn't require manpower to lie in wait to cause destruction. Since stops at the fueling station were irregular and random, assigning ships and personnel to an otherwise empty moon would have been a waste of time and resources for the Empire when they could accomplish something similar with monitored mines.
Leaving before the blitz meant there would be no last stop to pay her respects to those murdered in the settlement. Leia had debated asking if it was possible to return for even just half an hour, but the decision had been made for her. Some horrible, cowardly part of her felt a bit of relief at the news, though that didn't last. Guilt raised its ugly-but-familiar head after mere seconds, and she almost welcomed it. She, at the very least, deserved it.
When she went to pass the orders on to the others, she found Han in the cockpit, digging through wires that were normally hidden by a durasteel panel behind the copilot's seat. Chewie's voice rang out intermittently over comm from some other part of the ship.
Leia sat in the pilot's seat and looked at Han, who was engrossed in whatever the task was that he'd picked up. "General Rieekan said we need to leave as soon as we can."
Han nodded. "Almost done with this." He did something — Leia couldn't see what he was working on with his arms buried elbow-deep in the Falcon's innards — and told Chewie to turn something back on.
Leia noticed no change in their surroundings, but Chewie let out a triumphant, [We are good!], and she soon heard his heavy steps approach the cockpit.
Chewie entered and sat. Han slid the bulkhead panel back in place and brushed his hands off on his pants before turning. His eyes first darted to the empty seat behind Leia before settling on her face, brows drawn together. He forced a small smile. "You wanna get outta here, sweetheart, I'm gonna need that seat."
She shook her head. "I said was gonna fly for the entire trip."
Han's expression fell, concern clear on his face. "Leia—"
"Han, please, I—I need something to focus on. Something to do." The long hours between jumps and the days before they arrived at the outpost, those would already be nearly unbearable. If she could at least have a task to look toward…She took his hand in hers and pressed his knuckles to her cheek. "Please."
He nodded slightly, still obviously unsure. "Yeah, okay." He kissed her briefly before settling down in her usual seat.
Between trying to prevent her hands from trembling and running through preflight checks, Leia was able to keep her mind engaged. She got the Falcon off the ground and pointed toward a hyperspace lane before sending the appropriate signal to the Blue Squadron to let them know they had left Iego's orbit.
Once the ship was in hyperspace, Leia felt her attention tugged toward the horrors they had seen…had it only been the day before? She could imagine their terror, their cries for help, their still bodies not even receiving the dignity of individual graves, and it made her stomach churn.
She retreated to the lower gun turret and sat on the deckplates, staring out into the vast darkness of space, hoping for any sort of distraction. The pain and grief she kept trying to push from her mind rushed over her again. She buried her face in her knees, knuckle pressed between her teeth in an attempt to keep her sobs quiet.
The ladder leading down to the turret creaked, followed by the sole of a boot scuffing against the deckplates. Strong arms encircled her, and Leia dropped her hand from her mouth. She turned her head, focusing on the rise and fall of Han's chest beneath her cheek.
"We left them," she whispered, shuddering.
Han rubbed her shoulder. "We didn't have much of a choice."
Leia squeezed his bicep and stared straight ahead, chest aching. "I know."
She was okay because she needed to be, because it was required to continue doing her job. The construction of Echo Base was nearing completion, and the outpost at Saijo was to be the first to move to the new location. There wasn't much to pack up — the outpost had, after all, been running quite lean — but Leia and Carlist still created backup plan after backup plan. If they were able to evacuate on their own timeline, the plan was simple: pack up the entire outpost and head out. But they also crafted plans for if they had a day's notice, half a day, three hours, one hour, mere minutes. The backup plans had been her idea upon returning after the final settlement trip, and she balked at the mere implication that there might be any connection between what she had experienced and her newfound drive to plan for every possible contingency.
The entire outpost had been notified of the fate of the settlement before the Falcon had landed, thankfully, so Leia had been able to take Luke, Wedge, and Shara's attempts at comforting her and cheering her up in stride without actually having to detail the trip with any of them. It bothered her, though, that so much attention was placed on her own well-being when Han and Chewie had spent more time with the refugees than she had. Han hid his sorrow well in most circumstances, but when it was just the two of them, she got a glimpse of his pain in the way he spoke about the lives lost, the emotion that tinged his voice when sharing a story from visits Leia hadn't been present for.
She hadn't been back to her own quarters, though that wasn't public knowledge. Luke seemed to accept that she'd just been rising at her usual unreasonable waking time and making her way to the Falcon for decent caf, and sometimes breakfast. Shara had asked Leia twice if she wanted to walk to the women's barracks together after dinner, but didn't press when she said she had things to do before returning to her quarters. No one else seemed to be keeping tabs on her whereabouts — or, if they were, they were keeping their observations to themselves.
There was really nothing to know, anyway. She slipped on to the ship after all but the night crew were in their quarters for the evening, she and Han talked some, sat together for awhile, exchanged kisses and fairly innocent touches, then retired to their respective bunks. It was rare that she managed to sleep more than a few hours at a time, and she found being on the Falcon more tolerable than wandering the outpost, looking for something to occupy her mind and hands. There was always something that needed to be done on the ship, and it attracted less attention than showing up in the Command Center at odd hours did. Chewie might gently chide her the next morning if he heard her up and about in the middle of the night, but his mild scolding was nothing when compared to the time off Leia knew would be forced upon her if General Rieekan ever discovered just how little sleep she was getting. And she couldn't handle time off. She needed to stay busy and focused.
Most of her attention was concentrated on Echo Base, on the move, on the project that had eaten up the majority of her life for over a year. Having that to focus on, to bind her mind to the present when she struggled to keep ahold of it, kept her okay.
She was okay. Because she needed to be. Because the work demanded it. Because if she let herself not be okay a moment longer, she couldn't guarantee there would be any coming back.
She was so very okay, that she was somewhat confused when she reported to Carlist that the cold-resistant starters had been built and were ready to be picked up on Ord Mantell, and he responded by asking when Han and Chewie would be leaving to do so.
Leia raised her eyebrows slightly, wondering if she or he had misunderstood. "We plan to leave the day after tomorrow."
General Rieekan hesitated, frowning slightly. "I think it would be best for you to stay planetside."
She studied him for a moment. "Am I needed here?"
"You're always needed, Your Highness."
"You know what I mean. Is there something here that I need to tend to that can't be done after I return?"
More hesitation, so much that Leia felt compelled to speak again.
"If this is about keeping me safe…I'd think if the events of last week have reinforced anything, it's that I'm not. Ever. None of us are. Even innocent civilians, if they happen to share our heritage."
Carlist shook his head. "You know I haven't interfered with your involvement based on the potential for danger alone, and I'm not inclined to start meddling in that way." He met her gaze, unmistakable concern in his eyes. "You are not doing well, are you, Leia?"
His tone was filled with so much care, Leia felt in danger of crying. She took a moment to fortify her resolve and get her thoughts in order before tears could make an appearance. "Is there an issue with the quality of my work?" she asked, her voice even and calm.
"That isn't what concerns me." General Rieekan rubbed at his temple. "Do you recall what you suggested to High Command when Commander Antilles was injured as we evacuated Renatasia?"
Leia narrowed her eyes, knowing exactly where he was taking the conversation. She exhaled sharply. "I believe I said that they needed to be evaluated for fitness of duty before flying due to the extreme distress Commander Antilles' precarious health status seemed to cause, not to mention their involvement in his extraction. But, as I am not attempting to fly a ship, nor am I in clear emotional distress, I don't see what that has to—"
"How much sleep are you getting?" General Rieekan interrupted.
She flinched. "You know I manage the best I can, Carlist."
He appeared alarmed by her response, and Leia realized a moment too late that she typically protested claims that she needed more rest fairly vehemently. Carlist pressed his lips together and shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "Lieutenant Bey came to me concerned because she hadn't seen you enter or exit your quarters since you returned from your last mission, which, according to her, is exceedingly unusual unless you're actively avoiding sleep. She said she tried to talk to you, but you dodged the topic, and she was concerned you hadn't had any real rest since you arrived back. I thought her conclusion extreme, so I checked the door activity logs. Your keypad hasn't been activated in weeks; certainly not in the week you've been back."
Leia's cheeks burned, though she wasn't sure if she was more angry to have been checked up on or embarrassed to have been caught. She barely recalled the conversation with Shara, but doubted it had required bringing her habits to General Rieekan's attention. She clenched her teeth a moment before looking at him with the most neutral expression she could manage. "Checking my door logs, Carlist? Really?"
He raised both his hands in surrender. "I admit, it was a desperate move, and I regretted it as soon as I'd done it, but I can't very well pretend like I didn't see them. I'm worried about you."
She knew he wouldn't have pried so far into her privacy without feeling truly desperate, and that realization softened her resolve a little. She glanced away, trying to determine what, exactly, she should 'fess up to. "I have been sleeping. In the crew cabin on the Falcon," she said slowly. "My sleep is disturbed less often on the ship. That has always been the case, but in the past, I have been very cognizant of how my spending nights there might appear those not in the know. I haven't wanted to inspire gossip about the nature of my relationship with Captain Solo, and I haven't wanted anyone to think I believe myself too good for the accommodations I am provided by the Alliance, so I have typically slept in my quarters aside from some extenuating circumstances. This most recent set of circumstances has felt…adequately extenuating for me to break my own policy repeatedly. I apologize for causing confusion, but I don't think I've done anything wrong."
General Rieekan's expression relaxed somewhat in relief. "You've been staying aboard Solo's ship?"
Leia fought to maintain her neutral expression as she nodded. "I can comm him right now for confirmation if you'd like. He's given me and a few others an open invitation to stay on board if we need to, and I've…" She shrugged somewhat helplessly. "It's been a very distressing couple of weeks, Carlist."
"I know it has," he said solemnly. "You're getting some rest, though? Staying on the ship has helped?"
She smiled weakly and shrugged. "I am managing the best that I can. I can't promise that you would be pleased with my nightly average, but, since the alternative would likely land me in med after a week…" She shook her head. "I am managing the best that I can."
"Is that why you want to go with them to pick up the starters?"
Leia scoffed softly. "No, I want to go with them so I can see every part of this job I committed to through. I made the deal for the starters in the first place; I want to help retrieve and deliver them." She met General Rieekan's gaze again, more of a pleading tone to her voice than she intended. "Echo Base is nearly finished. This is something I have been a part of since we scouted the location. I need to see what I can through to the end." Please, Carlist. Don't fight me on this.
As if he could read her thoughts, and perhaps because he was still feeling a bit guilty for checking the access logs for her quarters — though Leia imagined she would never know for certain if that was a factor — Carlist nodded. "Can't argue with that, I suppose."
She shot him a small smile, one she hoped was reassuring. "Well, you could try. But I don't think it'd work out terribly well."
Carlist chuckled, but didn't disagree.
The morning they planned to land on Ord Mantell, Leia sat in the Falcon's lounge, nursing a mug of tea. She had every intention of heading back to bed and attempting to sleep if the tea did a good enough job of calming the racing heart left over from another nightmare. She heard the faint beeping of an alarm in the cockpit, and a corresponding sound from beyond the door of Han's cabin. A minute after the alarm went silent, the cabin door whooshed open. Han stepped into the lounge, blinking sleep from his eyes and running a hand through messy hair. Leia smiled at the sight, a now-familiar feeling of fondness expanding in her chest.
Han yawned briefly before saying, "Proximity alarm went off. Gonna be droppin' outta hyper here in a minute." He took a step in the direction of Chewie's cabin, but turned back quickly. "Wanna copilot? No sense in wakin' Chewie if we don't hafta."
Leia smiled and nodded, finishing her tea, and setting the mug in the sink before following Han to the cockpit.
He caught her wrist before she could sit in Chewie's usual spot, pulling her close and dropping a kiss on her lips. She smiled, kissing him in return before parting and shaking her head at him. "I thought we were dropping out of hyperspace," she murmured.
"Still got a few minutes," Han said, eyes not leaving hers.
Leia hummed softly, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. He slid his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "How'd you sleep?" she asked.
With her ear pressed right over his heart, she felt the vibration of his voice before she heard his words. "'Bout as good as I'm gonna get right now, I think," he said, giving her a squeeze. "You?"
"I got a few hours. Three, I think. I only woke up an hour or so ago."
Another kiss pressed to her hair, followed by, "You should try to get some more rest after we land. We'll have time."
She squeezed him lightly. "Maybe."
The proximity alarm sounded again, forcing them to extract themselves from the embrace and settle into their seats.
They landed on Ord Mantell about an hour after dropping out of hyperspace, the Falcon touching down smoothly on the landing pad. As soon as the ship stopped moving, Leia stood and stretched, debating whether she wanted to attempt to quiet her mind enough to fall asleep.
Instead of settling down in her bunk, though, moments later, she was cuddled up with Han in the dejarik booth, sharing a ration bar, and talking through the day's plan.
"Got a good few hours before we hafta meet Lloy," Han said after checking his chrono.
"Mmm," Leia hummed in agreement. "Good." She slid her fingers along the inside of his arm absently.
"Thought you were gonna sleep."
"I said maybe." She pressed her teeth lightly into her lip. "Do you mind that I've been sleeping here?"
"Don't think you've got many other options considering we're lightyears away from your quarters," Han quipped.
Leia rolled her eyes and tapped his elbow emphatically. "You know what I mean. When we're at the outpost. I've been invading your space a lot."
"I said you can stay whenever you want, Leia."
"You didn't mean every night when you offered that."
He shrugged slightly and tightened his arm around her affectionately. "I don't think I had a limit in mind really. Doesn't feel like invading when it's you, anyway." He brushed his lips against her temple and Leia closed her eyes, heart full to bursting.
"I had to tell Carlist that I've been sleeping here," she said quietly. "Apparently Shara noticed I haven't been going to my quarters. I think…I think when we get back we should tell him about us. I'm pretty sure he let my spending nights here slide because he knows I've been having a rough time since…" She trailed off. "Since our last run. But it's bound to raise some eyebrows at some point. I don't want him to think I'm—we're hiding anything."
"But we are hidin' something," Han pointed out.
Leia grimaced. "I don't think giving a new development time to settle is hiding exactly." She looked up at him. "Do you have a problem with telling him?"
He shook his head. "Nah. Rieekan's all right. Don't have a problem with him knowin' at all." He paused. "Don't have a problem with anyone knowin' at all, for the record."
She smiled. "Good. Do you want to be there?"
"If you want me there, sure. Don't need to be, though. I trust you."
"Good."
Leia burrowed into his embrace, eyes closed. Safe and warm in his arms, she felt herself doze off briefly, only to jerk awake at the sound of her comm alerting her to a new transmission. Blinking slowly, she retrieved the device from her pocket, head still resting against Han's chest.
"Speaking of Carlist," she murmured. The message was marked urgent, and though its contents were brief and vague, Leia understood enough to feel nauseous immediately. "We're not to return to Saijo." She looked up at Han, heart hammering against her ribcage. "The outpost was discovered."
They're dead, she thought, though the message said nothing of the sort. Luke and Shara and Wedge and—
"Where are we heading?" Han asked, his tone tinged with worry.
She shook her head. "No details yet."
Han rested his palm on her shoulder. "They're okay," he assured her.
Leia didn't respond. She turned her face into Han's shirt, attempting to ignore the rhythmic pounding of They're dead. They're dead. They're dead. that infiltrated her mind.
He tightened his arm around her, and for a moment, Leia wondered if he was as worried as she was attempting not to be. His body felt tense, coiled like a spring ready to release, and though he had made an attempt at optimism, surely their last mission weighed on him the way it did her.
"They'll…They'll be okay," he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself as much as he was assuring Leia. "They've had to move with short notice before. You and Rieekan had evac plans in place. They'll be okay."
"Yeah, of course," she responded faintly.
A horrible thought occurred to her, one that Leia found distasteful because of its inherent selfishness: My things.
She didn't have much in her quarters — mainly a few little items collected over the course of the past three years: the cap from the first bottle of starblossom juice she and Han had shared, the messy You are here drawing Han had given her when she had been removed from the pathfinders, a couple of holos of her parents that could probably be retrieved from the holonet if necessary. They weren't expensive or irreplaceable, really, but they were hers, and there were so few items in the galaxy that she could claim as her own.
Voicing the twinge of pain she felt at the prospect of losing the few personal possessions she had at the outpost seemed like the definition of tone-deaf, though, so Leia said nothing.
She must have nodded off again, Han's rhythmic breathing serving as a sort of soothing touchpoint for her. When she woke again, he was pressing his lips to her forehead gently, and murmuring something about it nearly being time to meet Lloy.
Leia narrowed her focus to the task at hand. They were going to get the starters, and Echo Base would be that much closer to being operational. Then — and only then — could she return to worrying about Luke, Wedge, Shara, and all the others.
A/N: Thank you for continuing to read! We only have a couple of chapters left before the end! What did you think of this one? What do you think might happen next?
The next chapter will be posted on or before Friday, August 23, 2024. Thanks for reading!