"Listen, Your Worshipfulness, let's get one thing straight. I take orders from just one person: me!" – Han Solo, Episode IV
Leia bit down on her lower lip worriedly as the fleets landed in the docking bay; they were missing one and had lost a few men that day. The Empire had been ready for them this time, grown accustomed to the attacks; they must have predicted where they'd go next because this day hadn't gone well. Luke hobbled out from his damaged aircraft, coughing slightly as smoke issued from the back, his face half unrecognizable with blood.
Leia hurried over to him, "Luke! What happened?"
"It was an ambush," he coughed, swiping at his matted hair, "They knew we were coming."
"You're bleeding," she said, then called out to the medical personnel that had arrived, "We need to get him to the medical bay immediately."
"It's not as bad as it looks," Luke protested but Leia replied sternly, "You need to get that checked out before it gets infected, how did you manage to get it in the first place? I doubt a blaster left that."
"It was the bounty hunter...from before," Luke muttered, as he was helped to the medbay. "The one that got away...he had a dagger and came up from behind me...Han shot him the back before he did any worse."
Speaking of Han...Leia swivelled around, but there was no sight of him, Chewie or the Falcon. "Damn you, you get back here right now," she mumbled distractedly, looking up into the clear bright sky above. If they lost Han today...if she lost another friend, another person she cared about...
The Millennium Falcon zoomed into view, making a not-quite clean glide into the bay. The ramp opened and Chewbacca lumbered out with one furry arm under Han's, supporting him. Leia let out a sigh of relief. The man certainly wasn't dead though he looked a little worse for wear. His face was wan though he looked fine elsewhere...unless...
"Han, your jacket," she demanded as soon as she reached them.
He raised an eyebrow, "I knew the day would come that you'd be wanting my clothes off, Princess, but-"
"Stop being an idiot. Where are you hurt?" she opened the flap of his jacket, the side that he seemed to be holding out at an awkward angle and gasped. There was blood seeping through his side, but it didn't seem as though the blaster had grazed him. It had made a clean hole.
"We need to get him to the medbay now," Leia nodded at Chewie, who growled back in agreement, "Let's put him on a stretcher," she beckoned to one of the staff standing by.
"Hey, I'm not so bad off that I can't walk by myself," Han objected feebly, just before his legs collapsed beneath him. Leia and Chewbacca helped him onto the stretcher and accompanied him to the medbay. "Can't wait to see me with my shirt off, Princess, can you?" he winked, then immediately winced in pain despite himself.
"Well, at least his vanity's intact," Leia rolled her eyes at Chewie, "He'll live alright."
"That's no way to talk about a man injured in the line of duty," Han muttered.
Leia stifled a snort. Truth be told, she was feeling very thankful that he was alive. Not that she'd tell him, of course.
Han lay back in the medical bay feeling heartily sick of bedrest. A thick gauze bandage covered the wound in his right side; other than that, he'd escaped unharmed. He should have known this raid looked too easy to be real. He'd lost too many men today, Luke had almost been killed and now he was stuck in this stuffy, white place. The only good thing that had come out of the whole venture was that he'd gotten rid of that Lal Inquor...except the dying man's words had been a bit of a downer.
"Feeling good about yourself, Solo?" the man had jeered weakly, "Oh yes, I know who you are. You weren't much different from me a little while ago, were you? A low-born mercenary."
"There's a difference between smuggling and killing for money," he'd said shortly, rummaging through the man's coat lining.
"Ah, but you've never really been above either," the man had whispered, "Don't think you can put yourself up on a pedestal now that you've chosen a side. Your past will come out eventually and everyone will see you for what you really are."
"A devilishly good-looking, charming pilot?"
"A coward," Lal Inquor hissed, "A man who acts solely in self-preservation. Who won't hesitate to trade another's life for his own...or for the right price."
He had shaken off the bounty hunter's words easily at the time, but now as he lay alone in the medical bay unit with only his thoughts for company, he felt rather bothered. In truth, he wasn't exactly sure what kind of man he was. Had the old Han Solo been capable of Inquor's assumptions? Yes. He'd never had much of a moral compass and he preferred himself live and kicking, thank you very much. But, what about now? Since joining the Alliance, he'd never been put in a situation that directly came down to choosing between death and survival. He'd simply done whatever finished the job at hand. And he was being well-paid for it too. Smuggling illicit goods had involved risks too. Yet, he recalled when he'd been about to be boarded by Imperials and had abandoned Jabba's goods – the result of that decision was what had landed him here in the first place – in order to pass through safely. It had been a split-second decision, why? Because he, Han Solo, valued his own life more than anything else in the world. So if it really came down to it...if he was held at gunpoint and had to choose...would he sacrifice himself up for some noble cause or would he do whatever it took to save his own skin? Because, deep down, was he really the self-serving scoundrel he'd been for the majority of his life? He didn't know, and he wasn't particularly sure he wanted to find out.
"Han!" Luke strode into the unit cheerfully, a white gauze bandage under his left eye, his face slightly swollen. It had been a couple of days since they'd landed from their last raid and unfortunately, the nurses seemed to think Han was still in need of some recuperation.
"Hey, kid, a free man now, are ya?" he said dryly.
"If you mean I'm free from bedrest, yeah, I am," Luke grinned, "The nurses have been saying you've been a little grouchy."
"Grouchy? Me?"
"More like an insufferable nuisance," Leia corrected as she entered, standing next to Luke with her arms folded as she surveyed Han's prone figure with a critical eye. "If it were up to me, I'd let you out and allow that wound to fester, I doubt you'd be much of a loss-"
"Hey!"
"But, the General seems to think we need you around here," she finished in a mock-sigh, before turning to Luke with a warm smile, "How are you feeling?"
Han might as well have been a wampa, from all the affection he'd received.
"I'm alright," Luke smiled back shyly, "Nurse said I might have permanent scarring, though."
"That's nothin' to worry about, kid," Han said airily, "Women love a man with scars. Say they make us look more rakish."
Leia doubted Luke could ever appear rakish with his innocent blue eyes and trusting smile, but she said nothing to contradict him. Han, on the other hand, would never look anything less than a scoundrel. Even now, as he lay back harmlessly on the bed, he exuded a dangerous air of raw masculinity...one that the majority of the female population on Echo Base had not failed to notice. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but Han had an effect on her Luke never could. While Luke had no shortage of admirers either, being the young hero who'd destroyed the Death Star with his easy smile and gentle behaviour holding a charm of their own, Leia found him sweet...but not attractive. At least not to her. Though she held no feelings for Han in any romantic sense, she supposed she'd have to be blind to remain oblivious to his blatant sensuality. It simply pervaded any room he was in and it wasn't just because of his rugged good looks. It was his confidence that did it. Luke lacked that aura of...experience.
"Is that something you've discovered from experience?" she couldn't help herself from saying in a doubtful tone, though she knew she was leading herself into a trap.
"Why don't you come over here and discover for yourself, Princess," he grinned, daring her.
She took measured steps towards him and sat down on the edge of the bed, maintaining a neutral expression while his shifted to surprise. He'd never expected her to call his bluff, she thought with amusement. "I think," she said quietly, "that you're not especially fond of bedrest, Captain."
"It depends on who's joining me."
Luke coughed loudly. She ignored the suggestion, "I think you'd rather let a wound fester and worsen than be patient and allow it time to heal."
"I think I've had enough time to rest," he sat up, wincing from the sharp pain that shot through his side, "I think I know my own damn body well enough to judge when I can be out and about and not be confined like a child."
"No, I don't think you do," she rested one hand on his shoulder and firmly pushed him back into the pillows, "I think you're bored. And you dislike being in one place for too long."
Somehow, he gathered this conversation wasn't just about his reluctance to remain in the medical bay.
"I just prefer being in charge of myself," he said carefully.
Her lips quirked upwards slightly, "You don't like having a woman take care of you?"
He was taken aback at first and then grinned back, "Well, if she is, I'm not complaining."
"Lovely. I'll have Nurse Malia bring in some food and water," she said brightly. Luke chuckled in a relieved manner from behind her.
Well. He should've known that one was coming.
"If I don't want to stay in here, you can't force me," he reverted to grumpy obstinacy.
"No?" she queried, amused, "I can order you."
"How's Solo doing?" the General asked Leia later.
"He's fine, recovering nicely," Leia replied, "Just a little out of sorts with being confined to the medical bay. He seems to be under the impression that he's well enough to be out in the field already."
"Like any man," the General chuckled, before sobering. "We lost quite a few good men and women on Mreden, we need to be more careful in the future. We got too confident after the Death Star."
Leia nodded, "I was going to suggest Daquine next, but I fear that would be too obvious."
"No...we need to put a hold on the raids for now," the General said grimly, "We received word that a number of senators who have remained sympathetic to our cause are being imprisoned on Coruscant. We need to find a way to get to them. Now, especially, since the Empire is still weakened. They will recover quickly, however, and if we are going to do this, we'll need to do this soon."
"How soon?"
"As soon as our men are ready. We're going to need our best."
"Do you know how we're going to accomplish this?" Leia asked, her mind working frantically, "They'll be heavily guarded...and they might expect us to attempt to free them. And now that they know I'm working with the Alliance, you won't be able to use me as a "diplomatic envoy"."
"I know. We don't have a plan as yet, but we're currently working out the layouts of the prison. There has to be a weakness somewhere and we will find it," the General said resolutely. Leia only wished she shared his confidence. Coruscant, now known as the Imperial Centre, would be a veritable death trap. They could hardly fly in, shooting blasters from every angle. It would have to be a quick, carefully thought-out, well-executed plan. And it would be very easy for something to go wrong.
Han would not be the man for the job, she thought dryly, recalling how he'd shot off his blaster at every opportunity, even running headlong into a group of clones with a warrior cry. No, he certainly needed some training in that department, even though she supposed he'd already proved himself capable of subtlety when required...Luke too, would be unsuitable, he was a pilot...she was already forming a list of names for the team they'd send...when something the General said caught her attention.
"Sorry, could you repeat what you said?" she asked distractedly.
"I will be leading the rescue," the General stated.
She stared up at him, "Are you certain that's wise? I mean-"
"I'll leave Rieekan and you in charge here," he replied firmly, "But, yes, it's necessary that I go. This is going to be a highly important mission and my men are going to need me. We've lost too many and many are injured still. Rescuing the senators will no doubt give us some leverage – they may know things we do not as yet – and it will be a damning victory against the Empire."
"Why don't I come with you?" Leia suggested.
"No, no. You need to stay here," Dodonna said gently, "If I go, I'm going to need both you and Rieekan to direct matters from the base. And if anything goes wrong-"
"Nothing will go wrong," Leia interrupted, "That's why we're formulating a plan, sending our best." Dodonna was the closest thing she had to a father now, she refused to even consider the notion of "anything going wrong".
"Still, we must be prepared," he replied with calm rationality, then turned as Rieekan entered the room and took him aside.
Leia was about to head to her quarters when Luke almost ran into her, an uneasy expression on his young face. "Luke!" she placed a calming hand at his shoulder, "What's wrong?"
"Er...nothing!" he attempted at evasion, running a hand through his hair nervously, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child.
"Clearly it's not nothing. Tell me, what is it. Why were you running?"
"It's Han," he muttered finally, "He needed me to get something for him from the Falcon."
"Don't tell me it's his favourite teddy bear," Leia said dryly.
"Ah...not exactly..."
Han watched Leia careen into the medical bay angrily. He quite liked seeing her all huffy. And it was a welcome source of amusement stuck as he was in this dank little space. But recognizing Luke trail dejectedly behind her, he began to have some cause for alarm.
"You sent him to the Falcon for this?" she waved a bottle of Corellian ale at him, "Are you serious?"
"I wasn't gonna have anything," he lied easily, "It was all for the kid. To celebrate." At least the last bit was true.
"Celebrate? What cause do we have for celebration?" she rolled her eyes, advancing threateningly, "You are currently under bedrest. Do you know why? Because you almost got yourself killed! And now you want to have a drink? Do you know what this can do to your system with all the medical drugs you've been undertaking to reduce the pain?"
"Leia, it wasn't Han's fault," Luke said in a small voice.
"Leave it, kid, it was my idea anyway," Han waved him off, before turning back to Leia, "Listen, Your Worshipfulness, I am fully aware of the effects this can have on me and I assure you, I wouldn't have gotten the kid to get it and risked your royal wrath if I didn't have a good reason."
"Oh, really? So what's your reason, Captain? Having "fun"?"
"I understand you're a little new to the notion," he tossed back snidely, "But there's no reason for bitterness, Your Highness."
"Is this your way of undermining my orders?" she demanded.
"Believe it or not, as welcome the idea of retribution for forcing me in this little hellhole sounds, that was not why I asked Luke to get the ale," he said exasperatedly, "It's his birthday!"
She opened her mouth to retort something back then closed it. And then said, "Oh."
"It's not that big of a deal," Luke said hurriedly, "I know I shouldn't have gotten the ale, but-"
"It's fine, Luke," she said reassuringly, now that she'd recovered from her surprise, "I know the men like to celebrate special occasions any way they can and your closest friends here are Captain Solo and Chewbacca, so it makes sense-"
"And you," he added shyly.
She smiled back, "Well, I certainly won't say no to a little drink on the occasion. But none for the Captain," she sent in Han's direction sternly.
"I s'pose a cup of water would suffice?" he asked in a slightly mocking tone, picking up his cup from the table next to him.
"How old are you turning, Luke?" she asked.
"Twenty."
"He's becoming a man today, that's what," Han said proudly, "Finally outta his teens at last. We're gonna need a rite of passage for that-"
Leia cut him off, "You are not getting up to anymore mischief until you're out of here."
"Is that an order as well, Princess?"
"It's a statement of fact. Now," she poured herself a cup of ale and handed the others to Luke and Chewbacca, "A toast to Luke Skywalker."
"Hear, hear," Han mumbled, eyeing his cup of water dolefully while Chewbacca growled in approval.
Leia took a few sips, before setting her cup down, "I have to be off, I have some work to attend to, but you two are welcome to stay with Han as long as you want," she smiled at Luke and the Wookiee, before heading out the room.
Luke watched her leave cautiously and then took up the bottle of ale she'd left behind and turned back to Han with a sly smile, "I don't suppose a few sips wouldn't hurt. Leia would never know."
Han hesitated, then said, "Nah, you go ahead, kid. I need to get outta here as soon as the nurses deem me able and if I'm suddenly set back after a few sips of ale..."
"True," Luke grinned, then quickly hid the bottle under his jacket as a nurse passed by.
Luke may not have noticed anything amiss by his refusal, but Chewie certainly had. "Is that really why you're passing up on a drink?" his friend taunted in Shyriiwook.
Han ignored him. He didn't even know why he wasn't taking advantage of the Princess' absence to down a couple gulps, but something about her fury and look in her eyes as she'd reprimanded him had shown him something. Whether Leia knew it or not, she'd been taking care of him. She'd shown real concern for his wellbeing and not just because he was working for the Alliance. It had been a long time since someone cared that much for his worthless hide.
Leia sat down on her bunker, fingering a thin necklace and staring off into space. It was her birthday. She hadn't even remembered till Han had announced it was Luke's. No one had wished her, of course, seeing as it hadn't been news she'd spread around since arriving back from the Death Star. She looked down at the necklace in her hands wistfully. Her parents had given it to her on her last birthday, the last gift they would ever give her.
She shook her head and put the necklace away in a small box. She couldn't dwell on the past. The present is a gift, her father had once wisely told her and he had been right. She was grateful for a great number of things at the present moment; the Alliance's victories, leading men and women who respected and followed her without question, having an important role and not sitting back uselessly while a war raged on...those were things that did not quite bring happiness, but it brought a sense of satisfaction in her life. The closest she'd felt to happiness since the Battle of Yavin...she realized it had been in the moments spent with Luke and Han and Chewie. They had become her friends and she cared for them, while they did for her as well. The feeling of relief, watching them emerge from the last raid, if not unscathed, then alive, had been almost overpowering in its intensity. And that relief had been something astoundingly close to real joy.