Chapter Text
Leaving Tatooine and experiencing new planets had felt like such an incredible opportunity. The first time she had felt rain, she'd forced Han and Luke to splash around in puddles with her until they were all drenched and numb, laughing and clinging to one another as though nothing in the world quite mattered in that moment.
Leia had grown to love so much of the galaxy. The trees and the birds and the oceans. The shivering rain storms and terrifying earth tremors. Everything new ignited a primal urge inside her to rush out into the great unknown and experience it all with naked delight.
However, that delight did not extend to snow.
Leia Skywalker hated snow.
It was the opposite of sand, and yet it was the same. It clung to her whole body, and it burned her when she touched it with an exposed hand. Hoth was inhospitably cold, but it was just as much as desert planet as Tatooine, and she was sick of it!
Hoarfrost clung to the wool of the scarf over her nose, and beads of snow were stuck to the fringes of the fur lining her hood. Her tauntaun trotted heavily beneath her, and her teeth chattered beneath her numb lips.
This patrol had been as boring and uncomfortable as the last. Every time she entered Echo Base after spending a prolonged period of time unprotected, she felt like a dead girl. It took about an hour for her to fully recuperate from the elements, and even then she found herself lacking a bit in the conversation department.
She was feeling homesick lately. Not for Tatooine specifically, but for her Aunt and Uncle. They were still uncomfortable with her role in the Rebellion, especially after finding out what had happened to Biggs. Her last visit to Naboo stuck in her head, and she kept playing it over and over.
Varykino was possibly the most beautiful place she had ever seen, and Luke had laughed and told her to wait until the winter. But she didn't think she'd ever truly be able to stand winter again after Hoth. Sometimes she would envision the great expanse of lakes, the roar of a four hundred foot waterfall, and the hazy aroma of dozens of unknown flowers swaying uncertainly in the wind.
Both Owen and Beru lived at Varykino, in the Naberrie's home there, as a handyman and gardener respectively. Leia's bunk here on Hoth was riddled with little knick-knacks and baubles her uncle had fashioned for her, and dried flowers hung above her as she slept.
Her uncle had sat beside her at the dining table in the Naberrie estate, sunlight trickling against his weathered face. The fine linen of his Nubian clothes was loose on him, and she had realized how good this planet was for him. He did not look so worn and tired. In fact, he looked happy.
"Leia," he had said, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes desperately. "Stay. Please."
Beru had whirled around at this, dropping the vine of Creeping Arunas she had been clipping. "Owen!" she had hissed, pointing her clippers at him warningly. "We talked about this."
Leia had merely frowned, her brow furrowing a bit as she slumped in her seat. Luke had gone off to speak with Sola, who he seemed abnormally close to, and Han had not come with them this time, and was instead out on a job.
"Talk about what?" she had asked cautiously, blinking between her aunt and uncle curiously. "Me? Leaving the Rebellion?"
She could recall how the mid-afternoon sunlight dripped into the room like honey from the yawning, wide open terrace. Owen sighed deeply, and he'd drawn a hand over his forehead and rubbed it meekly. He bowed his head, and he murmured, "Leia…"
"You understand that will never happen, right?" she asked him. She had leaned forward and tilted her head so she could peer into his face. "Uncle Owen, they need me."
"Well maybe we need you, Leia," Owen had gasped, lifting his head and shooting her a tired, hopeless look.
She had sat and gaped up at him. Even now she heard his voice, and she couldn't quite believe it. Hadn't she done enough? She could not imagine a world where she gave up on the Rebellion. Everything in her was wired to keep on fighting the good fight, to restore democracy to the galaxy and to create a new Jedi Order. That was her purpose in life.
And she could not do that on Naboo.
"No," she had said softly, pushing out her chair and looking down at her uncle sadly. "You don't."
And then she had left. Gone and found Luke, asked when they were leaving, and the rest was history. Beru had given her the flowers before she'd left, hugged her, and whispered to her that her uncle just missed her, that's all. They were scared for her.
They didn't want her to end up like Ezra Bridger.
Even in the brief hours that they had known him, the boy had left an impression.
Now that she thought about it, she had not heard Luke say anything about Ezra in a while. When it had happened, he had been on a solo mission. He had not immediately come back to Base, and Han and Leia later found out he had gone to find The Ghost. Maybe they had all grieved together. She didn't know. She didn't know how to feel.
It had been three years since she had lost Ben. Nearly three years since they had lost Ahsoka. Two years since Ezra Bridger had been publicly executed. There had been so many losses in-between, so many close calls, so many moments where she had lost her breath and thought to herself, This is it. This is where it ends.
But she was still here. Not even the icy hell of Hoth could stop her.
She reined her tauntaun in as it whined and shuddered in the face of a strong gale. Powdery snow came barreling at her like small shards of glass, imbedding itself in the fibers of her scarf and bouncing off the white, water resistant parka she kept bundled around her. She blinked through the shivering air, and squinted through the dark tinting in the lenses of her goggles. A thread of dark smoke was visible through the glitter of snow in the air.
Leia pushed back her goggles and tugged her scarf down, tucking it under her chin. The bite of the snow-encrusted fabric on her bare flesh made her shiver. She lifted her commlink up to her lips, exhaling a steady puff of white air.
"Han," she said, unable to bring herself to follow protocol when it was literally just Han. "Han, do you read?"
After a moment of waiting restlessly in the frigid air, the tip of her nose already chapping from exposure, Han's low drawl hissed from the comm.
"Oh, hey there, sweetheart," he said, all too enthusiastically. "You got somethin' for me?"
Leia's eyes trailed toward the stream of smoke from where the meteorite had hit the snow. She imagined perhaps saying no, just to piss him off. But something inside her was suddenly on alert, and as much as she'd like to tease him, she felt it was smarter to be truthful.
"Well," she said, "I'm done with my patrol, and I haven't scanned any lifeforms, if that's what you mean. But, Han, something just fell from the sky."
There was not even a second's delay at his response.
"What kind of something?" he asked, suspicion broiling inside his gruff tone. "Hey, Leia, don't go poking at stuff. You know how shit is when you're being curious, you might blow up the whole base by accident."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked in a sharp, but very flat voice.
"It means come back to base, stupid."
"Uh…" Leia rolled her eyes, and she pushed her goggles back down over her eyes. "Sorry, Han, I can't hear you! You're breaking up! I'm gonna go investigate."
"Leia!"
Leia clicked the transmitter off, and she tucked it into her coat. The tauntaun below her whined softly as she hopped off it, patting it gently on the back.
"Hey," she said, stroking its head and smiling. "Calm down, you big baby. I'm just gonna check this out, and then we'll head back to base. Now, stay."
Her feet wobbled unsteadily against the ground, thick boots sinking into the snow. She pried her binoculars from her belt and adjusted them, making certain that the surrounding area was safe before she continued.
It was then, zooming in on the crash site, that she considered that maybe the thing that had fallen from the sky was not a meteorite. She was struck with a wave of déjà vu, her hands clamped around binoculars, roving the sky and the barren earth, and recognizing that something here was wrong. Dread took hold of her heart in fists like iron, and it squeezed and squeezed until she could not breath.
And then, with a shriek of her tauntaun, she was yanked back to reality. Her whole body was locked and poised in fear, and she made the split second decision to dive away as a massive, scraggly white arm came crashing down where her head was just a second before.
The snow snagged on her boots, making it difficult to skid back, but she managed to slide into a crouch, her fingers dragging against loose snow. She let out a shaky breath, and it unfurled from her lips in a bloom of mist. Before her was a huge, jerky beast— a wampa, like the one that had nearly eaten Chewie a few weeks earlier. She had not thought much of it then, but now she was glad she had seen it.
It roared at her, its yellow teeth crooked and bent inside its black gums. Then it snatched her tauntaun by the neck, and crushed the poor creature's skull with a sickening crunch.
"No!" Leia screamed, lurching forward. She stumbled back as the wampa's long arm sailed toward, her whistling over her head and managing the hit the hood of her parka. The force of that alone sent her scrambling, her feet snagging against the slippery slow and losing traction. She slipped, catching herself with her hands, and rolling onto her side before the wampa's fists could smash into her skull.
While it was leaning low, its hands half-buried, she pushed herself half upright and toed at the snow, creating a pocket of loose crystals. Then she kicked the snow into the wampa's face, lurching to her feet as it howled, scratching at its eyes as the ice momentarily blinded it.
Leia swiped her lightsaber from her belt and flicked her wrist as the blue blade extended from her fist, bathing her cheek with warmth as she held it close to her face and lowered herself into position. The moment the wampa rounded on her, she slid beneath its legs and swung, cutting it down by one leg, and sweeping aside as it toppled over with an agonized yowl. Snow exploded up from where it fell, its heavy body sinking into the fresh fall. Without waiting for it to regain its wits about it, Leia took a deep breath, and she leveled her lightsaber with its neck.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, swinging her saber down with both hands and separating the wampa's head from its shoulders.
Once it was done, she stumbled back and nearly tripped over her dead tauntaun. Bile burned the back of her throat, and when she took deep breaths, the cold air sliced through her lungs. She sunk to her knees, the wind picking up around her and beating her scarf against her cheek.
What was she going to do now? Her ride was dead, and it was nearly dark. Could someone pick her up that fast? No, there was no chance. Could she find a cave before the sun went down? That was risky, considering how cold it was, and she'd already been outside for over an hour. Exposure would get her before she made it to shelter.
She would have to try.
Extinguishing her lightsaber, Leia staggered forward, fumbling for her commlink and lifting it shakily to her lips.
"Echo Three to… to anyone…" she croaked, her eyes darting toward the steadily setting sun. She could feel the temperature dropping by every second she breathed. "I'm stuck. I'm going to try to head for shelter, but my tauntaun is dead, and I'm too far from base."
She kept walking, and when she heard the crisp hiss of another voice on her comm, she nearly cried.
"Echo Three, this is Echo Base," said a clear, stern voice. "Stay where you are, and someone will pick you up."
"I can't stay where I am!" she gasped. "The sun's going down! I don't want to freeze to death, it's really not my style!"
She jumped when Han's disgruntled voice hissed through the comm. "Did I not say this would happen? For once, do as your told and stay where you are! I'm gonna come get you."
"Han, the sun's almost gone!" Leia kept heading forward, squinting through the winds that progressively got stronger and stronger. "Don't come. You hear me? Don't come!"
There was silence on the other line. Leia paused in her trek, breathing heavily, and blinking as the violent wind pushed her off balance. She gripped the commlink in her hand, and she realized she might have lost her signal.
"Han?" she gasped, smacking commlink desperately. She shook it against her thigh, and tried again. "Han!"
Nothing.
She was alone.
Luke burst into the hangar, skidding to a stop before the deck officer who had allowed the doors to be opened. Han was already climbing atop a tauntaun, bundled up tightly in a parka.
"What's happening?" he gasped, whirling to face the officer. "Why are you allowing Han to do this?"
"I'm not gonna argue with you, short stuff," Han snapped. "Leia's out there, and nobody will go out to get her."
"That is not what is happening," the deck officer said firmly.
Luke spared the man a glance, before he sighed deeply and shook his head. "Han," he said calmly, "I know Leia's out there. And I want to know why you are going to get her on a tauntaun, and not retrieving her on a ship."
"A ship could not sustain flight during the temperature drop," the deck officer said. "It is wired to assume deep space contact at temperatures as low as the ones outside, and it will not fly correctly. A tauntaun is the only mode of transportation currently available to us that can reach Skywalker, and even that is questionable."
Panic had not quite settled in until the officer had finished speaking. Now he was thinking, and he was thinking hard. Leia had already been outside the blast doors for over an hour. Being outside for thirty minutes was enough to make her exhausted. Luke had no idea what this would do to her.
"Let me come with you," Luke said, the extent of his sudden and debilitating panic falling into his voice. He stepped forward, and Han merely looked down at him with a frown.
"No," he said, not unkindly. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes were downcast. "Look, Your Worship, I know I'm not the easiest guy to trust, but please. You need to be here. The base needs your leadership, whereas me…" He cracked a wiseass grin, and he winked. It was easy to understand that he was implying that no one needed him here.
"Don't start," Luke sighed, whisking his hand through his hair. "Han, you're a great leader! People here look up to you."
"But they can lose me," he said, "if they have to. They can't lose you. And I can't lose Leia."
"Neither can I!" Luke found himself grabbing the reins of the tauntaun and looking up into Han's face desperately. "You know that! And— and what if I lose both of you? I can't let that happen, Han."
Han inhaled sharply. He examined Luke's face for a moment, before plucking Luke's fingers from the reins and dropping them.
"You're not gonna lose either of us," he said. He smiled softly down at Luke, the familiar fondness of his gaze calming down Luke's raging heartbeat. "Because I'm gonna save that brat."
"The tauntaun will freeze before you make the first mark!" gasped the desk officer, clearly desperate and truly only trying to help. Han's eyes snapped furiously to the man's face, his smile sliding away and transforming into a sneer.
"Then I'll see you in hell!" Han spat, yanking at the tauntaun's reins and jerking the poor creature forward.
Luke stumbled forward desperately as he watched Han disappear into the storm, snow blowing heavily into the base and wind kicking into his face the moment he got too close. It reminded him of the snows in Aldera during the dead of winter, when the peaks of mountains were like no man's land. He stopped at the edge of the blast doors, the cold knifing through him and causing him to shudder.
"Prince Luke," the officer said, eyes wide. "What do we do?"
Luke blinked into the blinding white sheet of incoming snow, a swelling miasma that had swallowed up Han's silhouette in an instant. He took a deep breath.
"Close the doors," he ordered. His mind was reeling.
He wheeled around and left the hangar, his heart in his throat and his eyes prickling.
Once outside, he passed a dark figure lounging against the wall. The figure clearly had just arrived from outside the base, because their parka was long and oversized. And blue. Luke paused and glanced back at them, watching as they leaned back and smirked at him.
"Aphra," Luke exhaled, relaxing a little as a wry grin lit up her round face.
"Sounds like someone's having a little trouble, eh, princeling?" Aphra pushed off the wall, her hands still in her pockets, and she half strutted up to him, her shoulders slouched and her eyes glittering. Her inky black hair was thrown into a messy bun, and long strands hung around her ears in wisps. It had been growing out for a while now, Luke realized.
"No more trouble than usual," he said, not ready to have this conversation with Aphra. Again. "Walk with me."
Aphra's status in the Rebellion was, to say the least, precarious. High Command had found out about her only six months previous, and Luke thought that was honestly incredible, considering he had recruited her around the time Ezra had been executed. First there was an issue when she had been the Rebellion's prisoner, and Luke had all but begged Aphra to stay with them.
"Vader will kill you," he'd said softly, standing between Aphra and Sana Starros's hot pistol. "You must know that. Aphra, you're a quick, resourceful, intelligent woman. Are you really going to throw your life away?"
It hadn't mattered much. Turned out Aphra was more scared of Vader than he had anticipated— and for good reason. Apparently he had thrown her out of an airlock.
The next time they had met had gone marginally better. There were some parasitic body snatching bugs around, and Leia had made up her mind immediately about Aphra's untrustworthiness, but Luke was determined.
He believed, whole-heartedly, that people could change.
If he didn't, then would he really be friends with Han?
Aphra was misguided. Luke saw that clearly, and he saw what the world had done to her. Maybe not the Empire, not specifically, but her disillusionment with life in general had hit him hard. And what could he say? He liked a project.
Anyway, their deal had started out small. He'd admitted he couldn't compensate her as well as the Empire outright, because she would be, first and foremost, his spy. That had intrigued her enough to keep her listening, and he knew he'd had her before he'd even explained the details of the arrangement.
"We're always treading on old worlds, worlds that have been settled but are now barren, worlds that have history rich and untapped by the modern age," he'd told her. "You can't know where we are when we're there, but I'll tell you when we clear out so you can explore. Maybe excavate what we didn't. I know what we did to the Massassi Temple, and I feel personally responsible for that. I want to create a New Republic, one that remembers the past, and can grow from it. We need people like you, Aphra, who look to uncover truths of histories we don't even know yet."
So that had worked out better than he had expected, and soon Aphra was actually getting somewhere in her career. Her side job as a spy came easily enough, though he had told her from the start not to sacrifice anything for his sake. He understood that she'd put her needs first anyway.
He had decided to start actually trusting her when she had rolled up to him in a speeder bike on Pantora, lifted up her goggles onto her suede cap, and shrugged off a backpack. She had thrown it to him, met Leia's eye momentarily, and then nodded.
"I'm sorry," she had said, resting her arms over the handles of her bike and leaning forward. "In my defense, though, I sold these before I started working for you."
Luke had eyed her uncertainly before opening up the bag. It was heavy in his arms, and it made sense why the moment he peered into it. Half a dozen lightsabers winked at him like stars.
Initially, Leia had been overwhelmingly angry, and Luke had played mediator. They had all calmed down upon finding out Aphra had found them at the site of an Ancient Jedi battlefield, and she had consequently sold them because that was her job. But she had reacquired them specifically for Luke and Leia.
"Look," Aphra had sighed, "I know I'm not trustworthy. I wouldn't trust me if I were you. But I like this gig. Spying is cool, and I get to do what I love anyway. Plus, you guys are way more fun than Darth Vader. I'm like, hardly scared I'm going to die around you. So here's the proof that I'm serious about this."
Leia had merely watched Aphra with narrowed eyes. If it were up to her, she'd sic Sana on Aphra in a heartbeat. Luckily Sana had not been there.
"You bought them back?" Leia asked suspiciously.
"Of course she didn't," Luke had scoffed, closing up the bag and handing it off to Leia. "She stole them."
"Technically," Aphra had said, lifting a finger, "I was providing some social justice by re-appropriating relics taken and distributed to non-Jedi, and returning them to their rightful place." She had made a noncommittal gesture to Leia, who had scowled.
"You shouldn't have taken them in the first place!" Leia had cried. "It makes my skin crawl when I think about non-Jedi using lightsabers."
"Um, the princeling uses a lightsaber," Aphra had pointed out.
Leia had rolled her eyes, and she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Non-Force users, then," she corrected herself.
"Again," Aphra had said, straightening up and holding up her hands in surrender. "I get that? Which is why I brought these back to you."
"Apology accepted," Luke had said.
"Luke!" Leia had rounded on him angrily. "You're not a Jedi. You don't get to decide that!"
"She said she was sorry."
"She still stole the lightsabers!"
"From corpses about a millennia old," Luke had said calmly. "Not the victims of the Jedi Purges. They're rather different."
"No they're not! A Jedi is a Jedi."
"Actually," Aphra had piped up, "these guys weren't even proper Jedi. Not Orthodox at all. Totally a different sect, and they went extinct. So, anyway…"
Eventually Leia had relented. To this day she had issues with Aphra, though. Luke suspected that Leia had had a bit of a crush on Sana in those earlier days, perhaps to anger Han, perhaps just because Sana was very attractive and happened to be frighteningly competent.
Ever since High Command had found out about Aphra, Luke had just started letting her tag along with him sometimes. Their base was not a secret to her anymore, and it didn't matter much, because she was always doing something. The main problem was trust, and she'd already proven to Luke that she was prepared to risk a lot to keep this job. So she wasn't going to sell their location to the Empire, not before she could properly comb through it for any artifacts.
Not that Hoth had any. Right now they were trusting her on blind faith.
"Okay," Aphra said, holding up a datachip between her fingers. "So here's your info regarding the prisoner transfer to The Citadel. Did you know it was originally built to keep rogue Jedi from escaping?"
Luke took the chip gingerly and pocketed it. He was wearing white fatigues and a white vest, a vain attempt to try and blend in with the rest of the soldiers. He knew his flair for the dramatic would probably rear its ugly head eventually, but for now he would make do.
"Yes," Luke said. "I'm aware."
"Do you think there are any Jedi there now?" Aphra asked eagerly.
He paused mid-step to throw her a curious glance. She merely smiled sheepishly, and rubbed the back of her neck.
"My dad's a total nut about Jedi stuff," she confessed. "Finding out that there are some more out there would probably make him happy."
"I thought you hated your dad," Luke said, continuing to walk. His step was brisk.
"I do."
He shot her a short, disbelieving glance. She seemed slightly offended, her nose wrinkling up as she marched beside him.
"I do," she insisted. "What? You don't believe me?"
"You just don't sound convincing."
"For real?" Aphra groaned. "Look, it's complicated, okay?"
"No," Luke said with a sigh, "no, I get it. I do. You don't have to explain."
"Okay." Aphra folded her arms across her chest. "Good. So, what was all the dramatics with Solo back there?"
"Nothing, really."
Aphra glanced up at him, her dark eyes gleaming cheekily as she smirked. Her dimples made her look very young, though Luke was sure she was about Han's age.
"A lover's quarrel?" she asked, looking eager to hear the woes of Luke's barren love life.
"I am not in love with Han," Luke said, shaking his head. "And for the last time, Aphra, I'm not in love with Leia, either."
"So Leia's still single?" Aphra's smirk turned into a wry grin. "I knew there was a good reason for me to show up. Where is she?"
It was hard to properly wrap his head around the situation. They had all nearly died enough that he felt a bit desensitized to the idea of death, but still, whenever Han and Leia were off on their own he was overcome with a prevalent dread. Everything in him was on edge, taut and strung up by the whim of his anxiety. He had to keep himself moving, or he might just burst into tears.
"Right now?" Luke wet his lips. The ice walls of their base looked glassy in the stale, artificial light. "Outside."
Aphra tilted her head. "Huh?"
"Leia's tauntaun died while she was out on her patrol." Luke paused to allow a lower ranking officer run up to him. He had to sign off on a frostbitten man's leave. He quickly took the pen and scrawled his name onto the holopad. "Han went to go get her."
"You know she's gonna die out there, right?" Aphra asked. Her words were harsh, but he could tell by the softness of her voice that she really did mean well.
He sighed and looked down at Aphra tiredly. "I am not prepared to make any assumptions right now," he said. "But I believe that the Force will protect Leia."
Aphra grimaced. "Yeah, it does like that girl," she admitted.
Luke toyed with the chip in his pocket. He considered Aphra for a moment, and then he held it up.
"Would you like to see what you went through all that trouble to procure for me?" he asked with a small smile. Her eyes lit up.
"Yes." She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Yes, yes. What wrench in the Imperial cog are you about to set loose?"
"I can only tell you if you come on the mission," Luke warned her. "You know how cautious I have to be about leaks."
"Yep." Aphra nodded. "I'm prepared. Plus, I can ask about the Citadel. You never know when I might have to break in there. I could be the first person to do it."
"No," Luke said. "Not the first."
He watched Aphra's eyes widen a bit, and she eyed him up and down for a few moments. "Okay," she said cautiously, "I'll bite. Whom the fuck?"
Luke couldn't help but laugh. "It was Leia's father," he told her lightly. "Anakin Skywalker? His Padawan told us the story when she with us."
"Anakin Skywalker, huh?" Aphra chewed on the inside of her cheek, her arms folding over her chest. "Okay, that makes sense. This was the Clone Wars, then?"
"Yes." Luke led Aphra through a cavernous hall and into the barracks. Wedge and Hobbie watched them pass with identical frowns. "Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the clone Captain Rex infiltrated the prison. Can you guess who they rescued?"
Aphra squinted up at him, and she cocked her head. "I don't know," she said. "Darth Vader? Quit teasing me, Luke!"
Luke smiled grimly. She was closer than she realized. "Wilhuff Tarkin," he said. The name fell out of his mouth like poison.
"Oh, ew," Aphra said bluntly. "Why didn't they just let him rot? Wait, didn't Tarkin hate the Jedi?" Aphra groaned and rubbed her head. "Clone Wars politics is so confusing. I totally failed that class."
"We'll probably need to talk to Rex before we do any major planning on this mission," he admitted. "The goal is to attack the freighter that is transferring the prisoners, but the more we know about the Citadel, the better."
"Wait, the clone is still alive?" Aphra whistled low. "Impressive. And he's a rebel too?"
"Don't worry, Doc," Luke said cheerfully. "You'll have him trying to kill you in no time. You have a rep to maintain, right?"
"If that ain't the truth," Aphra said with a wide grin.
Sunlight sifted through dusty blinds. The air tasted stale, like dust caked the very molecules of the oxygen she breathed. The blanket laid out over her was scratchy and woolen, discolored in some places. Sun-bleached reds and browns were visible. Beneath the heavy, musty scent of baked clay and desert air, she could smell something earthy.
Tea leaves steeping in water.
Leia sat upright. Her body felt sluggish. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, and she looked down at them, puzzled. Why were they so small?
"Do you remember your first time here, little one?"
The voice was like a memory, or a dream, and it made her whole body go numb. She sat and stared at the cracked white adobe wall, her lips parting dazedly as her eyes slid toward the owner of the voice.
"Ben…" she breathed. Her limbs moved mechanically, shoving back the blanket and falling over the chair. Tears filled up her eyes as she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him. "Ben!"
He caught her easily, swinging her up into his arms as though she weighed nothing, and she hung limply against his chest, her tears drying on the tough wool of his robe.
"There, there," Ben murmured, stroking the back of her head absently. "Don't fret. I have been by your side all along."
"No you haven't!" Leia cried, clinging to his robe. "You've been dead! Are you— are you still dead?" She found herself coming back to her senses, and she looked around his hovel in minor awe. "Am I dead?"
Ben set her back down, and she looked up at him in wonder. She realized he was much taller than she remembered. She looked down at herself, and she slumped.
"I'm a baby," she observed.
"Eleven," Ben corrected. "But, in this case, perhaps the word "baby" is more appropriate."
"Shut up!" Leia gripped his hand tightly and looked at him with big, imploring eyes. "What's going on? Am I dead or not?"
"Why would you think you're dead?" Ben asked curiously.
"Uh!" Leia took a deep breath, and forced herself to calm down. "Well, Ben, I don't know if you noticed, but you've been dead for three years."
"Ah, yes." Ben tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That did happen. However, you are not dead, Leia."
"That's…" Leia sighed, and she rubbed her forehead tiredly. "I guess that's good? Damn, I don't even know. Can we sit down? I feel a little sick."
Ben took her hand and guided her back to a chair. He sat down beside her and rubbed small circles into her back as she doubled over and held her head in her hands.
"I never meant to leave you like this, Leia," Ben murmured. He slumped a bit, and sighed. "I am very thankful for the time I had with you, and I do not a regret a thing. But dying like that, in front of you? That was never my intention."
"We could have escaped," Leia said bitterly.
"No, little one." Ben smoothed her hair back from her face, and he cupped her cheek. His callused palms felt familiar, and fresh tears burnt her eyes. "I was not meant to live through that battle. It was fated, from the start, I think. And I accepted that a long time ago. But do not be sad. For I am still with you, always. As I said I would be."
She dug her teeth into her lower lip as he brushed a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb. She could not even find it in her to argue that he was wrong, that he could have lived if he had wanted. Maybe he had not wanted to live. Shouldn't she just accept that?
"This is like it is with Qui-Gon," she said after minutes passed in silence. She lifted her fingers toward thin rays of sunlight filtering in through the slats in his blinds. It felt neither warm nor cold. "I am here, but I am not here."
Ben blinked down at her. "Master Qui-Gon visits you?" he asked curiously.
"Sometimes." Leia snuggled closer to him, her newly shrunk body fitting easily in the crook of his side. "The last time was a long time ago. Before Ahsoka got captured."
"Ah." Ben smiled. "Ahsoka. I suppose it would be cruel of me not to divulge that she is very much safe and unharmed."
Leia jerked away from him suddenly, staring up into his face with a gaping mouth. "What?" she croaked. "Wait, really? Ben, don't play with me. She's alive?"
"Yes," he said. He looked down at her amusedly. "Imprisoned, but alive."
"Where?" Leia demanded.
Ben touched her head gingerly. His watery blue eyes searched her face sadly.
"Nowhere you can go, little one," he said sadly.
"I am Leia Skywalker," she said, pulling his hand away from her head and squeezing it. "I do what I want. Where is she?"
"Ahsoka is safe, Leia," Ben said calmly. "That is not your concern. I have a mission for you."
"A mission more important than saving Ahsoka?" Leia scowled. "She was dad's Padawan, Ben! She basically became my teacher, you know, after you died. I owe her a lot!"
"Leia, you must trust me when I say that she is safer where she is now than you are." Ben looked down at her sternly. It was the look he gave her when her temper flared up, and he had no interest in catering to that beast.
"Safe?" Leia managed to puff out a breath of distress. "Safe? With Darth Vader? Ben, come on!"
"Leia." Ben was serious. He took both her hands in his, and he gripped them tight. "Look at me. Listen to me. Ahsoka is fine. It is you who is in danger."
"Danger?" she repeated. She felt like a broken holoprojector. "What do you mean?"
The walls began to crumble around them, and Ben's expression fell in horror and dismay. He pulled her close, and rested his cheek against her head.
"Dagobah," he whispered. "Find Master Yoda on Dagobah. You must, Leia. He will teach you what I could not."
"Wait…" Leia gripped him tightly, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "No. Don't go. Please, Ben, don't go…"
"Dagobah. Say it with me, Leia, so you don't forget."
"Dagobah," she murmured.
He pulled back, and he rested his forehead against hers. His fingers gripped the crook of her neck. Together, they both whispered, "Dagobah."
And then, like the floor had given out beneath her, Leia slipped from his fingers and fell hard and fast.
When she woke up, she was in a tent.
Her body was stiff and unyielding.
She could not open her mouth.
Everything was white. She was trembling, and her limbs were aching. There was a weight on her chest, and her fingers throbbed.
Suddenly a pair of warm hands were on her face, cupping her cheeks and dragging her head into a lap. "Leia? Leia! Look at me, Leia!"
She managed to spare a dull, tired glance in Han's direction. His face floated above hers, his dark hair swirling around his head in damp wisps. It stuck to his forehead. His lips were parted, and he looked like a fish.
A very handsome fish.
"Don't close your eyes," Han whispered urgently. "Don't look away. Keep your eyes on me."
When she tried to open her mouth to reply that she was sleepy, she found she could not. So she stared at him.
"I shoulda stuck you in the tauntaun," he said, sounding distant and frantic. "That way at least I would've known, you know? That you were warm. Shit, Leia, why'd you have to collapse like that?"
She blinked. Her eyes stuck closed. The back of her eyelids looked like Beggar's Canyon.
There was an earthquake, and she gasped as she was jolted awake by Han's hands. He held her very close, close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheeks.
"Don't," Han said, gripping her head with both hands and dipping his face low. "Don't do this, Leia. You know you're stronger than that."
The warmth of his breath against her numb cheek tingled her skin. She shuddered, and curled closer against Han.
"Dagobah…" she whispered.
"Huh?"
Her voice tore through her throat like sandpaper. Her lips bumped against each other uselessly while her teeth chattered.
"Dagobah…"
Luke's quarters were just as cold as the rest of the base, and unlike Leia's bunk, he had no personal affects to name. At least not visibly. He kept the holo of his birth mother safe in a box of trinkets stashed in his emergency bag. He also had multiple memory sticks filled with holos of Alderaan. He was planning on copying them before handing them over to Ryoo, so that she could archive them properly. She had told him, the last time they had visited Naboo, that she wanted to write a book on Alderaan. He hoped that it would be enough.
"I'm not saying board the freighter like pirates," Luke said, peering at the schematics of the ship. Aphra and Rex sat behind it, their faces mildly distorted by the blue light. "But honestly? Board them. This vessel is not well manned, and I can't expend the manpower necessary to infiltrate the Citadel. So it has to be done while in flight."
"I don't mind playing pirate," Aphra said. She smiled up at Rex in her mischievous way, and Rex merely stroked his white beard thoughtfully. He peered down at the schematics, and he shook his head.
"I have a bad feeling about this, sir," he said. "It could be a trap."
"A trap for who, exactly?" Luke tilted his head. "Sabine Wren is a Mandalorian rebel. The Empire is using her as a leash on the Wren clan like they did with her father five years ago. Mandalore is still burning. They have no resources to rescue a single Imperial hostage."
"You forget," Rex said heavily, "that she was a Spectre first."
It took a lot of effort not to flinch at that. Luke gripped his knees tightly, and he stared Rex in the eye. "That," he said, "I did not forget."
"A trap for Hera, then," Rex said.
"Hera has been flying under the radar since—" Luke inhaled sharply through his teeth. Aphra peered at him curiously, and he shook his head. "Look, the transfer is in three days. I am prepared to come with you to rescue Sabine. But it's happening. With or without you."
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it," Rex said defensively. "Just that I have a bad feeling about it. I love Sabine. And I have seen the Citadel. I will not let her rot in that place."
"Thank you, Rex," Luke sighed, feeling a bit relieved now that he knew for sure Rex was in.
After meeting Rex for the first time, when Kanan Jarrus had lost his sight and Ahsoka had lost her arm, they had not really spoken much. It wasn't until Ahsoka's return to the Rebellion that he got interested in him. More often than not, Luke would catch Rex staring at him. He always wore a puzzled look on his face, like he could not quite make out the features of Luke's face. Maybe he needed spectacles.
"So," Aphra said, leaning forward and grinning. "Shall we talk compensation?"
Rex glanced at her with barely concealed loathing. "Where did you pick this merc up, sir?" he asked, frowning. "A little scrawny to be Mando."
"I'm not Mandalorian, but that's very sweet of you!" Aphra smiled at him brightly. "I'm Doctor Aphra. Have we not been introduced? Well, I'm an archaeologist. Nice to meet ya!"
Rex took one long glance at her extended hand, and he turned back toward Luke. "Do you really trust her?" he asked bluntly.
"I trust her to get the job done." Luke turned and addressed Aphra. "Sabine is the daughter of a Countess, and personal friends with the current Duchess of Mandalore. So that's about four planets you can study freely. How does that sound?"
Aphra's dark eyes glittered, and they seemed to respond for her.
"Done," she said.
The door behind him slid open, and he clicked the holoprojector off. He slid the datachip across the floor to Rex before standing and turning.
Wedge Antilles was in the doorway, out of breath and wide eyed. "Luke," he gasped, gripping the doorframe. "It's Han and Leia. They're back."
Luke was out the door before he even finished speaking. The ice walls were narrow, and the ceilings were low. He had to tread carefully, lest he slip on some uncovered ice. He didn't realize Wedge, Aphra, and Rex were all trailing behind him until he reached the medbay.
"Chewie," Luke gasped as the door slid open. He stepped inside and looked around hastily. "Is Han okay? Is— Is Leia…?"
Chewie yowled, and he pointed. Han was sitting on a nearby table, shirtless and pink in the face with a blanket over his shoulders. He spotted Luke, and he shot him a goofy grin.
"Hey there, Your Worship," he drawled, leaning back to gaze at Luke haughtily. "Did I say I'd get her back, or what?"
The relief that washed over him was almost definitely palpable. He might have fallen to his knees and prayed, if he didn't have a reputation to maintain. His eyes swiveled toward the bacta tank in the corner, and he slumped a bit as he watched Leia float serenely in the gelatinous blue liquid. Her hair was loose and unfurled around her head, floating eerily like seaweed. She was mostly naked except for a thin white cloth over her breasts and genitals. Luke exhaled in relief.
"This base is the gift that keeps on giving," Aphra remarked with a lewd smirk as she cupped her chin and watched Leia float. Luke took Aphra by the shoulders and spun her around.
"Out," he commanded.
"What the hell is the whacko doctor doing here, anyway?" Han asked irritably. "Hey, lady! Fuck you!"
"Kriffin'…" Aphra twisted to fling her middle finger up at Han. "You're just sore because I happen to fuck girls better than you."
"Huh?" Han's pink face, which was merely flushed from adjusting to a warmer temperature, was suddenly bright red. "You little harpy. Now I know that ain't true."
"Oh, honey," Aphra said mildly. Her smile was bright and pitying.
"It ain't."
Luke met Rex's eye over Aphra's head. He took Aphra's arm and began to drag her away.
"Okay, Aphra, time to go. Bye bye, now." Luke shoved her as Rex pulled until she was out of the medbay. Wedge just stood there, his mouth open, and he looked very lost.
"What did she mean?" Han huffed. "She can't have been serious."
Luke closed his eyes, and he sighed very deeply. After a night of pure anxiety and zero sleep, he was not exactly pleased nor surprised that he was spending the morning stroking Han's ego.
"I think she was plenty serious," Wedge piped up.
"But it's definitely not true."
Luke turned to face Han, and he folded his arms across his chest. Han stared at him, and then he scowled.
"It's not."
"Tell me what happened," Luke said. "Start from the beginning. Where did you find her? How long was she outside before you got her to shelter? You did bring a tent, didn't you?"
All the sheepishness and mirth vanished from Han's face. He became uncharacteristically somber, his brow furrowed as he leaned forward and rubbed his fingers together to get the circulation running back into his hands.
"I found where she was when she sent her last transmission," he said slowly. "She wasn't there. Her tracks were fresh, but the snow was so heavy that they had nearly disappeared. I ended up finding her maybe forty minutes after receiving her transmission, heading toward a cave. She was still awake when I got to her, but she passed out while I was putting up the tent."
It had been a long time since Luke had let himself relax. He found a chair beside Han's cot, and he sat down heavily, his head falling into shaky hands.
"She wasn't hurt otherwise?" Luke murmured.
"Nope. Just a little shaken, is all." Han offered a half shrug. "I did the best I could short of stuffing her into the stomach of my dead tauntaun. Apparently she's gonna be fine in a few hours."
"Thank the Force for that," Luke said dryly.
Behind them, Wedge shuffled his feet idly, and he leaned forward. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, "but I caught a bit of that debriefing. Are you really going to rescue Sabine, Luke?"
It did not surprise him that Wedge was interested in this, not really. Wedge and Sabine were relatively close, considering Sabine had recruited him and Hobbie.
"That is the plan," Luke said. He smirked up at Wedge, and tilted his head. "You interested in joining in? It's unsanctioned, you know."
"Yeah, I gathered," Wedge said with a roll of his eyes. "You're using Aphra, after all."
"She has her uses."
"Why do you even put up with her?" Han whined, wrapping his blanket further around himself. "She's the devil, Luke. The actual devil."
"She's literally just Aphra."
Luke could only rub his forehead and sigh. His decision to trust Aphra was such a sore subject with both his close friends and the members of High Command. He was always reeling, trying to come up with excuses for giving her chances that she didn't deserve. The fact was that Aphra had never actually failed him monumentally. Sure she had let him down a few times, but that was to be expected from such a wild card. He made his disappointment in her clear whenever she ended up selling some poor mummified king's bones on the black market, and she seemed legitimately guilty.
See, Luke knew that he had a way with Aphra. She respected him, and was desperate to gain and maintain his respect. That was why she was here.
If a woman who had spent most of her life cheating and screwing her way through life wanted to better herself, Luke was going to give her as many chances as it took. So long as she didn't betray him. Which, in the two years she had been working for him, she had not.
Luke quickly debriefed both Han and Wedge about his plan to retrieve Sabine Wren. Han had cut him off only to provide a witty name for the undertaking.
"Operation Birdcage," he'd supplied with a twist of his mouth. "'Cause she came up with the fire bird logo, and she's in prison."
"Clever," Wedge remarked.
Luke ended up falling asleep after Wedge left. He dreamed, but it was muddled and unclear. He was standing in a dimly lit tunnel, stumbling through the curved arched halls, his breath quick and uneven. The panic he felt was all-encompassing, and every step he took was uneasy. And then he stumbled to a stop, and blinked vacantly up at a shiny black helmet.
A sickly red glow splashed along his face and his hands and found its way into the pit of his heart.
The lightsaber in Vader's fist hummed as he approached.
The world came back all at once, the sanitized, blinding white walls of the medbay greeting him as he bolted upright with a gasp. His head had been resting on an empty cot, and the Force was swimming around him weakly. He could feel a tentative tap on his mental walls, a curious, worrying presence pressing up on his shields.
His eyes found Leia's like they were magnetized. They stared at each other in shock, her brown eyes huge and inquisitive beneath the furrow of her brow, while he knew his were just as large and filled with uncertainty.
"Leia!" Luke jumped to his feet and rushed to her side. She was lying in a cot, her back up against a wall, and Han was standing several feet away. "Thank the Force, you're okay!"
"Of course I'm okay." Leia frowned, and she folded her arms across her chest stubbornly. "It'll take more than the cold to kill me."
"Yeah," Han muttered, very clearly disgruntled and frustrated, "you're welcome."
Leia's gaze snapped to him, and she glared. "I had everything under control," she said coolly.
"You were literally freezing to death, hot shot!" Han pushed off the wall and jerked a finger at Leia's face. Luke quickly held up both his hands, planting a palm on Han's chest in attempt to mediate the situation.
"The Force would have protected me," Leia said in a wistful, almost offhanded tone. "Your presence was merely an extension of that."
"The Force did not save you, Leia!" Han gritted his teeth as he thumped his fist against his heart. "I did! Me! A thank you would be nice!"
"I am not thanking you for being a half-way decent human being!" Leia snapped.
"Half-way?" Han's face crumpled momentarily before it hardened. "You know, if I were a lesser guy, I'd take offense, but you know what? I'm just glad you're okay."
Han lifted his hands up in surrender, and he bowed his head as he strode toward the door.
"Han," Luke sighed, taking a short, desperate step toward him. "Stop, she doesn't mean it like that."
"I gotta go," Han said breezily. "I've got business elsewhere."
"You do not!" Leia gasped.
Han jerked his head over his shoulder, his eyes ablaze. "Oh, now you care?" He sneered at her, and his shoulders slumped miserably before he left the room.
Luke rounded on her, and he placed his hands on his hips expectantly. Leia merely scowled down at her hands, her cheeks flushed and her jaw tight. Her long brown hair was loose around her shoulders, waved unevenly by the residual components of bacta.
“Really, Leia?” he sighed. “You know he’d do anything if you asked, but you keep pushing him away!”
“Because he’s a liar,” Leia said stiffly, “and a smuggler, and a— a stuck up, half-witted…” She bit her lip hard, and she slid down the wall and bundled herself in her blankets. “Scruffy-looking nerf-herder!”
Luke sighed deeply once more and sat down gingerly at the side of her bed. This was difficult. He was pretty awful with relationship advice, but even he knew that Han was absolutely head-over-heels for her. Even when he flirted with Luke, it was only to make Leia mad. Sometimes Leia tried to do the same, but when Luke saw how hurt that made Han, he shut her down. He didn’t like being used to make his own friends feel bad.
“He saved your life,” Luke told her very gently. She opened her mouth to object, and he shot her a look. “Leia. Your life. Really, are you so stubborn and ungrateful that you can’t muster up a thank you?”
“He was trying to convince me I was blubbering to him not to leave me,” Leia hissed, burying her nose in her blankets and glaring at the ceiling. “I don’t care how delirious I was, I would not do that.”
“Okay, Leia.” Luke rubbed his eyes tiredly. “But have you ever thought that maybe… I don’t know… Han really cares about you?”
“Isn’t Han like, in love with you?” Leia dropped her blanket and stared at him pointedly.
“No?” Luke laughed, and he kicked off his boots as he pulled his legs up onto her cot. “Han likes to tease me because I told him the age difference makes me uncomfortable. Also it riles you up.”
“What a dick,” she hissed. Her nose scrunched up momentarily before she blinked up at him curiously. “Wait, the age difference? It’s only like, ten years. That bothers you?”
“A little. Yeah?” Luke shifted uncomfortably. “I did a lot of reading when I was a kid about royalty who got married off to people decades their elder for the sake of political alliances. Of course, my parents would never do that, and they assured me dozens of times, but it always freaked me out.”
“Age on Tatooine is different, I guess,” Leia said quietly. “I never really thought of it that way. Ten years doesn’t seem like a lot to me, but I guess I just don’t have the standards you do.”
“Standards?” Luke asked her amusedly.
“You know,” she said with a small, teasing smirk. “Dreamy, chivalrous, doe-eyed knights who will come sweep me off my feet?”
“That’s rude,” Luke murmured, his cheeks growing warm as she laughed at him.
“I’m just joking, Luke,” she said gently, patting him on the shoulder. She looked down at her hands, and she sighed. “And for what it’s worth, I do care about Han. I just don’t like the idea that he could have something over me. He’ll just lord it over my head for months.”
“You should give him more credit than that,” Luke said. He leaned forward and took her hand. “Maybe even give him a chance? I swear he cares about you way more than you think.”
“Ugh.” Leia leaned her head back, and she scowled up at the ceiling. Then she slumped, and she murmured, “Maybe.”
“That’s all I ask.”
“I hate when you make me be reasonable,” she whined. She slumped forward and curled up against his side. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her gingerly. A sharp, stinging aroma wafted up from her hair and skin, the sanitized scent of dried bacta.
Absently, Luke stroked her head and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he could relax and enjoy something as simple as a hug. It stung a little, knowing how far he was from the warmth of family and safety. War had cut him to size, like a diamond under pressure. He was faceted for a particular purpose, and now he was not sure he could go back to the raw and unkempt form he had been born into.
Suddenly a familiar, clipped voice rang over the loudspeaker. “Headquarters personnel, report to command center.”
Luke sighed, and he extricated himself from Leia’s arms. She pouted indignantly as he tucked her back into bed. “Stay,” he told her, holding his hands out imploringly.
She rolled her eyes and sank back into her cot. “Go,” she said, her voice strained from barely contained laughter.
By the time Luke reached Command Center, Han and Chewie had already gone out to investigate a droid spotted outside the base. He dropped into a chair beside a senior controller and threw a headset up over his ears.
“Han?” Luke leaned forward and peered at the monitor before him. “Talk to me. What are we looking at?”
He listened to Han scoff over the commlink, heavy winds crackling into his mic.
“Well,” Han said, “I’d put my money on this thing being what Leia went off to investigate last night. Hate to admit that she was right.”
“What is it?” Luke asked, his voice taking on the clear, concise authority of a Rebel Commander.
“Was, more like,” Han said grimly. “Not much left. But it was some kinda droid. Didn’t even hit it hard, it just sorta exploded. Self-destruct feature, maybe?”
Luke exhaled shakily, and he met Rieekan’s eye over the head of the senior controller beside him. He gripped the cushions of his headset, and bowed his head.
“It’s an Imperial probe, Han,” he said. He couldn’t even help the breath of defeat in his tone. “You need to get back here.”
“Yeah,” Han said, sounding vaguely concerned, but not as much as he should be. “Probably good to assume the Empire knows we’re here, huh?”
Rieekan stood stiffly behind Luke, and he said, “We had better start the evacuation.”