Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had the plans.

Scarif was disappearing behind them, burning bright as a dying star, and they had the plans.

Luke held them gently in his hands, as if the thin metal of the datacard would crumble if he held it too tightly. It was small, able to fit in the palm of his hand, and yet on it was recorded all hope for the Rebel Alliance — hope that dozens, if not hundreds, of Rebel soldiers, spies, and pilots had fought and died for.

He would do whatever it took to make sure it reached Alliance leadership safely.

Outside the cockpit’s viewport, the stars began to condense together as the Tantive IV prepared to jump into hyperspace. The Profundity lay behind them, unable to flee, attacked and disabled by the Devastator. Luke could see where the Star Destroyer was on the ship’s computer, indicated by a blinking red triangle, and his eyes stayed focused on that triangle as they made their jump, not relaxing even as it disappeared.

They would be pursued — that much was certain. The Empire would not so easily allow the Death Star plans to escape into the hands of the Alliance.

“We need to be evasive,” he said. “If we’re careful, we might be able to buy ourselves a small amount of time.” He did not think they could outrun the Empire entirely, not with such important cargo, but perhaps they could win themselves a few minutes — just enough time for him to reach the surface of Tatooine.

Though he wanted desperately to head directly for Alderaan or Yavin IV, to deliver the plans into the hands of the Rebel leaders, he could not forget his mission — his original mission, before the fleet had been scrambled to assist with the attack on Scarif. He needed to reach Tatooine and find Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“We’ll be jumping out of hyperspace several times before we arrive at Tatooine, Your Highness,” the co-pilot said. “We’re taking a rather roundabout route, hopping from one hyperspace lane to another, but we’ll get there eventually, and hopefully throw off any pursuers in the process. At least for a while.”

“I just need enough time to get to the surface,” Luke said. He paused, looking down at the datacard held so carefully in his hands. A great many sacrifices had been made to see these plans delivered to him, and he would not allow them to be in vain. “Whatever happens, we must not let the plans fall back into Imperial hands. They must reach the Alliance, no matter what.” He would see it done if it was the last thing he ever did.

Luke stayed in the cockpit as they made their journey, his gaze never straying far from the computer. Each time they exited hyperspace, he waited breathlessly for an Imperial ship to jump in behind them and begin attacking. And while it never happened, he still felt uneasy as they prepared to make their final jump to Tatooine. The co-pilot made to push the hyperspace lever, but Luke reached out a hand, stopping him.

“Jump to the Kemal system instead,” he said. The pilot turned to look at him, a confused expression on his face.

“Your Highness? Jumping to the Kemal system will take us past Tatooine.”

“I know. But it’s on the way back to the Corellian Run — the Empire will expect us to continue forward, and perhaps take the Run back to Alderaan. They don’t know we’re heading for Tatooine. I do not expect it will take them long to find us again, but perhaps it will grant us the time that we need.”

The pilot hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Alright. Recalculating our route to the Kemal system.”

Luke watched, his heart hammering in his chest, as the navicomputer made its new calculations. It seemed forever before they were ready to jump again. They lingered in the Kemal system only so long as it took to calculate the route to Tatooine, and then they were off again. Luke ran his thumb along the edge of the datacard, anxiously watching the blue tunnel of hyperspace swirl around them.

Only a few minutes — that’s all he needed.

He felt a small amount of relief surge up within him as the blue of hyperspace fell away to reveal the dusty planet of Tatooine, but he quickly pushed it down. They were not in the clear yet.

The door to the cockpit opened, and Captain Antilles walked in. “What’s your plan, Your Highness?” he asked.

Luke turned to face him. “I’ll be going down to the surface in an escape pod,” he said, sliding past the captain out into the hallway. “My father has told me how to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, and once I have, I am sure we will be able to find transport to Alderaan.”

“Surely you don’t mean to go down there alone?” Captain Antilles asked, following him into the hallway, and Luke smiled.

“Of course not. I’ll be taking Artoo-Detoo with me.”

The captain did not seem comforted by that reassurance. “Why not take one of my men? I’m sure many of them would be more than eager to accompany you.”

“I’m afraid this is a task best left for me alone to carry out,” Luke explained. “But, please, do not worry, Captain — I’ll be careful.” He continued along the corridor, heading for the escape pods, and Captain Antilles trailed after him.

“And what of the plans?” he asked.

“I’ll be taking them with me as well,” Luke said. “As soon as my pod is jettisoned, you must leave the system. If everything goes as planned, I will be on the surface by the time the Empire arrives here, and as far as they’re concerned, the plans will have never left this ship.” He slowed, frowning. “I’m sorry to leave you to deal with them. It’s not how I would have liked things to go.”

Captain Antilles shook his head. “We all have our part to play, Your Highness. Don’t worry—we’ll shake off those Imperials in no time.”

R2-D2 was waiting for Luke by the escape pods, alongside his counterpart, a protocol droid called C-3PO. Stopping in front of one of the pods, Luke clapped his hand on Captain Antilles’s shoulder. “Be safe, Captain,” he said.

The captain gave a quick nod. “You as well, Your Highness.”

As he turned to walk away, the Tantive IV suddenly gave a violent shake, nearly knocking him off balance. Luke reached out and steadied himself against the wall, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.

“What was that?” C-3PO asked, his voice humourously anxious for a droid.

“The Empire,” Captain Antilles replied, looking to Luke. There was no doubting it — they were under attack. “It seems we underestimated our Imperial friends. You need to leave, Your Highness. Now.”

“I cannot just leave—“ Luke began to argue, but Captain Antilles cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“You’ll be of more help down there than up here,” he insisted, pushing Luke gently towards the escape pod. “Go — find the Jedi.”

Luke frowned, but nodded, stumbling as the ship gave another shake. He felt like he was abandoning the crew, leaving them to fight alone against the Imperial ship attacking them. But he knew Captain Antilles was right — he needed to escape with the Death Star plans, and he needed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He palmed the control pad, and the doors to the nearest escape pod slid open. Captain Antilles gave him one last nod before turning and running off to command his crew. R2-D2, beeping and whistling, rolled into the pod, and Luke followed after him, taking the seat in front of the controls. C-3PO lingered in the hallway, shuffling nervously.

“Artoo-Detoo, where are you going?” he asked, his voice growing shrill. R2-D2 beeped a response which seemed to leave C-3PO rather taken aback, and Luke twisted in his seat to look at the golden protocol droid.

“Come on, See-Threepio,” he said, motioning the droid forward. “Get in the pod.” He had originally been planning on taking only R2-D2, but two droids were better than one, he supposed.  

C-3PO hesitated for only a moment before doing as he was told. The pod’s door hissed closed behind him; there was barely enough room for the three of them inside, but with any luck it would only be a short trip. There was the sound of a loud explosion in some other, distant part of the ship, and Luke turned to R2-D2, holding the datacard out to him.

“I’m entrusting you to look after this, alright, Artoo-Detoo?” he said, sliding the card into a slit on the little astromech’s head, inserting it into his memory systems. “No matter what happens to me, you need to look after these plans, and you need to find Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you understand?” The droid’s head swivelled from side to side, and he beeped in what Luke assumed was affirmation.

“If I might ask, Your Highness, who is Obi-Wan Kenobi?” C-3PO questioned. R2-D2 let out a rather angry beep, as if accusing the protocol droid of something.

“I’ll explain more later,” Luke replied, giving R2-D2 a gentle pat. The ship trembled around them, and Luke sucked in a deep breath before pressing down on the eject button. The pod’s engines flared to life, and then they were pushing away from the Tantive IV, spiralling down towards Tatooine as up above the consular ship attempted to flee from the Star Destroyer pursuing it. Luke grabbed the controls, directing the pod towards the sandy planet below. He didn’t know where any settlements were located, and there wasn’t a computer in the pod to tell him, so he simply pointed it at the surface — all he asked for was that they got there in one piece.

With their course set, he turned back to face R2-D2. “Do you think you could record a message for me?” he asked. The astromech gave a quick little beep, swivelling his head to face Luke.

The message was for Obi-Wan Kenobi, in the event that R2-D2 found him and Luke wasn’t there, for whatever reason. The old Jedi needed to know why Luke had sought him out, and he needed to know just how important the information that R2-D2 now carried was for the Rebellion.

He was partway through the message when something struck the escape pod, sending it off course and setting off a blare of alarms. C-3PO cried out in surprise, and Luke dove for the controls, attempting to wrestle back control of the pod. They had been struck by a turbolaser, and there were no doubt more coming their way. R2-D2 let out a worried whine.

“We’re doomed!” C-3PO cried, throwing his hands up into the air.

“Not yet!” Luke yelled, swerving the pod out of the way of another turbolaser. It was difficult, as the Star Destroyer lay behind them, and there was no equipment in the escape pod to tell him where exactly it was. All he could do was press on towards Tatooine, and hope the lasers missed them.

His hope was short-lived. A second shot landed a hit on their engines, which gave out almost immediately. Unable now to control the pod, Luke could only watch as it began hurtling towards the surface, alarms wailing. R2-D2 let out a noise that sounded rather like a scream, and though he knew C-3PO was speaking, he couldn’t hear what the droid was saying over the alarms. Luke pressed himself back into his seat, gripping the armrests until his knuckles turned white.

I should have stayed on the ship, he thought, and then they were hit by a third laser, followed by an explosion of sparks that sent Luke slamming forward into the controls, and everything went black.

◊◊◊

“You still haven’t left?”

Leia rolled her eyes, restraining herself from groaning out loud as she turned to face her uncle. “I’m on my way out now,” she said, motioning towards the nearby staircase that lead up onto the surface.

“You should have been out there an hour ago,” Uncle Owen said, crossing his arms over his chest, and Leia sighed.

“Well, I wasn’t.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I don’t appreciate the attitude, Leia.”

“It’s fine, Uncle Owen,” she said, swinging her arms dramatically. “It won’t take me that long. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Uncle Owen let out an irritated huff. “Oh, you should be worried, young lady,” he said, jabbing at the air in front of her, “because if you haven’t finished all your chores by the end of the day, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Leia scowled, and spun on her heel to stomp up the stairs. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” she grumbled, anxious to leave before he actually got angry.

The day was already hot when Leia emerged from the entry dome, shoving her hat onto her head. It was still a few hours before midday, but that didn’t stop the double suns of Tatooine from glaring down on the desert world. Leia blinked at the bright light as she made her way over to the landspeeder, pulling off her blaster rifle and placing it in the back. Uncle Owen had asked her to do maintenance on the moisture vaporators in the northern field that morning; she had, unfortunately, taken just a bit too long to finish helping Aunt Beru in the garden, and she was sure she hadn’t yet heard the last of it.  

She motioned to the WED-15 Treadwell droid wandering around nearby. “Come on,” she said, waving it over. “You’re coming with me.” The droid did as it was told, and she hefted it up into the back of the speeder, beside her blaster. Thankfully it was a rather small model, and so it wasn’t very heavy. Once it was settled, she climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and heading off in the direction of the northern field, a scowl still playing at her features.

Her uncle was such a hard-ass; she didn’t think he’d ever let her leave the farm and get off this dust-bowl. She’d be stuck here until the day he died, and by then she’d be too old to do anything with her life. She just didn’t understand why he seemed to want her to spend the rest of her existence attempting to pull moisture from dry desert air.

She spent the entire trip out to the northern field grumbling about her uncle. When she reached the first vaporator in need of repair, she hopped out of the speeder with a huff, forcing herself to take several deep breaths in order to calm herself down and focus on her work.

It wasn’t as if she needed much focus, however — this first vaporator was a simple fix: just a busted cooling rod, taken out and replaced within five minutes. The motions of vaporator repair were as familiar to Leia as breathing or firing a blaster. She had been helping Uncle Owen perform maintenance on them since she was six years old; it was more or less a daily task, part of the seemingly never-ending list of chores she had to complete every day.

Since she could easily take care of this herself, she left the droid in the speeder, unloading only her tools. The repair droid would come in handy soon enough, however, when she was trying to fix the broken generator that plagued the next vaporator on her list.

That was a job she was not looking forward to. Moisture vaporator generators could be rather difficult to get to, and she still wasn’t entirely sure what exactly had gone wrong with this particular piece of equipment. That, however, was what the droid was for. Giving the new cooling rod one last tightening twist, she closed the access panel and loaded her tools back up, heading off in the direction of her next target.

The entry dome was just barely visible in the distance when she arrived, warped by waves of heat that seemed to rise up out of the ground. She pulled her hat further down on her head, hoping to keep her face from burning, a feat that was all too easy with two suns beating down on you.

She hoisted the droid out of the speeder, placing him on the dusty earth with a heaving sigh. “Think you can figure out what’s wrong with this thing?” she asked, and it rolled off towards the vaporator, its treads humming as it moved. She removed the panel that lead to the generator, and it began poking around inside with its strange little claw-like hands.

While the droid worked at diagnosing the problem, Leia stepped back, staring up at the blue, expansive sky. Though night had long since passed, one of the moons was still visible, the only blemish besides the suns to mark the sky. No clouds ever hung over Tatooine, the planet’s atmosphere too arid for such large amounts of moisture. Leia was nineteen years old, and she had never seen rain; the only storms here were ones made up of sand and dust.

It was then, staring up at the cloudless, light blue sky, that she saw the falling ship in the distance.

It wasn’t often that ships flew over Tatooine, and it was even rarer for them to end up all the way out here. The nearest spaceport was Mos Eisley, a good distance to the north. And even more, this ship seemed to be burning, its fall uncontrolled — it was crashing.

Her eyes widening, Leia darted over to the speeder, digging around in the back until she found her macrobinoculars. She held them up to her face, aiming them in the direction of the falling ship. It was rather small — smaller than any space-faring ship she’d ever seen. Perhaps it was a satellite, then, or a piece of a larger vessel. She followed its descent as it hurtled towards the ground, wincing as it made impact; the plume of smoke that rose up from the crash was grey.

Leia didn’t hesitate as she tossed the macrobinoculars back into the speeder, clambering into the driver’s seat. “You, stay here,” she said, pointing at the droid. “Keep working. I shouldn’t be long.” It nodded in acknowledgement, and dutifully went back to whatever it was doing.

It was mainly curiosity that drove Leia to investigate the crash — curiosity as to what, or who, could have been flying above Tatooine. As she took off across the salt flat, pushing the speeder as fast as it could go, she realized that, if anyone was onboard the mysterious craft, they might not be too friendly. Tatooine was a remote planet, tucked away in a corner of the Outer Rim controlled by the Hutt Clan and unheeded by the Empire. This made the area popular to some of the galaxy’s more unsavoury characters — pirates, bounty hunters, criminals of all sorts. Almost unconsciously, Leia checked behind her to make sure her rifle was still there, and told herself that if anyone was in the craft, they’d likely be too badly injured from the crash to attack her.

She would still be ready, just in case.

The wreck was smoking as she approached, but it seemed as if it was at least no longer on fire. Stopping the speeder a few metres away, she climbed out, grabbing her blaster and aiming it at the scorched mass of metal. It seemed to be some sort of escape pod. Frowning, she looked up at the sky, as if she might be able to see the ship it had come from, but there was nothing.

A pod wouldn’t jettison if it was empty: There had to be something — someone — inside. Taking in a deep breath, Leia slowly began to approach the pod. The hot air smelled like smoke and burnt wires, and she suddenly became worried that she might find some gruesomely mangled corpse inside. She slowed, hesitating only a moment before continuing; whoever was in there might still be alive, and if they were, they would need help.

The door to the pod was gone, blown off at some point during the crash. Crouching, Leia peered inside. “Is anyone in there?” she asked. There was silence, followed quickly by a quiet beeping, as if from a droid. She shuffled closer. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Her head was practically inside the pod now, and through the thin smoke she could see blinking lights on top of a domed blue head — so it was a droid, then. Nothing else in the pod moved. “Hold on,” she said, slinging her blaster strap over her shoulder to free up her hands, “I’m gonna get you out.”

Getting on her knees, she reached into the pod, gripping the droid’s legs. He was some sort of astromech, though she couldn’t tell what model. He shuffled a bit as she pulled, trying to help her out; he was quite heavy, but thankfully he had been located near the door. Eventually, after readjusting her grip several times and much pulling, she got him up over the door’s lip. He tumbled out onto the sand, and she fell back with a huff, sweat dripping down the side of her face.

“You alright, little guy?” she asked, standing and helping to settle him back onto his feet. He didn’t seem to be too badly damaged; there were some dents and scratches in his metal, and his photoreceptor was cracked, but other than that he seemed to be functioning well enough.

He beeped in reply, shuffling back over to the pod; he seemed anxious, hopping from one foot to another.

“Is there someone else in there?” Leia asked, crawling over and sticking her head back into the pod. It was dark and difficult to see, even with the light coming in through the door. She looked over at the droid. “Have you got a light or something?” she asked. He beeped again, shuffling up alongside her and peering inside. The knob on his head began to shine, casting a bright light into the interior of the pod.

Leia gasped, drawing back. There was someone slumped over in the chair, and she could see his blond hair was sticky with blood. Was he dead? Carefully, she climbed into the pod, ducking so as not to hit her head against the ceiling. A protocol droid was resting against one of the walls, its left arm hanging by only a few wires and its head bent at an odd angle. Swallowing thickly, she tried not to look too closely at the boy in the chair — even without seeing his face she could tell he was young, at most only a few years older than she was — and focused on the droid.

He was just about as heavy as the astromech, but much less cumbersome in shape. She wrapped her arms around his torso, dragging him over to the door. Climbing out, she pulled him up by the arm that was still mostly attached, settling him on the dusty ground. The astromech beeped sadly, and Leia gave him a gentle pat.

“A friend of yours?” she asked. “Don’t worry — I’ve repaired plenty of droids before, and I’ll have your friend back up and going before you know it.” She hesitated only a moment before turning back to the pod, sucking in a deep breath of smoky air before ducking back inside.

What would she do if the boy was dead? There were no authorities she could turn the body over to. The only authority on Tatooine was that of the Hutts, and if not for her, this wreck likely would have gone unnoticed or ignored for months — curiosity did not often pay off on Tatooine. If he was dead, they would have to bury him. She’d take him back to the farm, tell her aunt and uncle, and they’d give him a proper funeral. She’d fix the protocol droid, who was likely to know who the boy was, and try and contact his family, let them know what had happened. She would have liked to keep his body for them to come collect, but that wouldn’t be possible — there was no way to keep it cool, and it would decompose too quickly in the desert heat.

Her plan already mostly-formed, Leia steeled herself and approached the boy. She reached out slowly, taking his hand in hers. His skin was still warm, not cool like that of a corpse, but she didn’t know how long it took for bodies to cool down, and it hadn’t even been an hour since the crash. She placed her fingers on the inside of his wrist, feeling for a pulse. She supposed she could have simply asked the astromech to scan him for any signs of life, but she didn’t understand the little beeps and chirps the droid made, so she wouldn’t have known the answer.

She couldn’t feel a pulse. Her own heart began thudding in her chest, and she carefully reached for the boy’s neck, placing her fingers beneath his jaw. There seemed to be quite a lot of blood coming from somewhere on his head — she could see it already drying on the console, and trickling down the boy’s pale skin. She searched for a minute with her fingers and then, to her immediate relief, the skin jumped beneath her touch. His pulse was weak, but it was there.

“He’s alive!” she called, and the astromech let out a series of happy beeps and whistles. She let out a deep sigh. “Alright, I’m gonna get him out, and then I’ll take you all back to my uncle’s farm. It’s not far from here.”

Carefully, she lifted the boy’s face up from the console. The source of the blood seemed to be a deep gash on his forehead; she winced at the sight of it, and the blood caked on his face. But there was no time to be squeamish; she didn’t know how bad his condition really was, and he might not have much time. Wrapping her arms around his upper body, she began to maneuver him out of the chair. He was heavier than the protocol droid, and while he wasn’t particularly tall, he was taller than Leia, and so once he was out of the chair she could only drag him along the floor to the door.

“I’m real sorry about this,” she muttered, struggling to pull him out of the door and accidentally smacking his arm against the wall. She really, really hoped she wasn’t injuring him even more by moving him, but there wasn’t anything else she could do. It was even more difficult getting him into the speeder, but she somehow managed it, arranging him rather awkwardly in the passenger seat. Looking at him slumped back against the seat, unconscious and covered in blood, she realized it rather looked like she was driving around a dead body.

“How am I going to explain this to Uncle Owen?” she mumbled.

Chapter Text

Needless to say, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were rather shocked when Leia returned home with an unconscious, blood-covered stranger and two droids. They stared at her, almost unbelieving, as she told them about how she had seen the escape pod crash and found the boy inside. She was worried Uncle Owen would be angry with her for being reckless and going to investigate the wreck by herself, but he remained silent as she spoke.

“We had better get him inside out of this heat,” Aunt Beru said, when Leia had finished with her story. “We’ll put him in your room, Leia, and see what we can do. I think I have some bacta patches lying around somewhere for that cut on his head…” She turned and hurried down the steps, leaving Leia and Uncle Owen to deal with the boy.

Wordlessly, Uncle Owen walked over to the speeder and helped her lift him out. She grabbed his legs, while Uncle Owen wrapped his arms around his upper torso, and together they began to carry him over to the entry dome.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Leia asked as they began to descend the stairs, looking over her shoulder to keep from tripping on the steps.  

Uncle Owen frowned. “I only wish you’d come and got me before going out to investigate all by yourself,” he said. “What if there had been someone dangerous, and conscious, inside?”

“I had my blaster. I know how to defend myself, Uncle Owen, I’m not a child anymore.”

“I know you aren’t, but that doesn’t make what you did any less reckless,” he argued. “But we’ll talk about this more later; let’s deal with the boy first.”

They carried him into her room, settling him on her bed, and Aunt Beru went about cleaning the blood from his face and hair. The gash on his forehead was deep, and still oozing blood; once it was clean, she grabbed a bacta patch off the nightstand and carefully placed it over the wound, sticking it in place.

“There,” she said, straightening and wiping the sticky bacta residue from her hands. “That should help.” She glanced over her shoulder to Uncle Owen, who was still lingering in the doorway. “Owen, would you mind going to Anchorhead? See if you can’t find a medical droid, or a medic, or something. Just someone who can come and check up on him. It seems like he hit his head pretty hard.”  

Uncle Owen nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll try not to be long.”

He disappeared again without another word, and Aunt Beru stayed where she was, looking nervously at the boy.

“Do you know anything about him?” she asked, glancing at Leia.

She shook her head. “Only that he was travelling with an astromech and a protocol droid,” she said. “The astromech’s mostly alright, but the protocol droid took some damage. I’ll see if I can’t fix him; find out what he knows.”

“Alright. He doesn’t look like a dangerous criminal, at least. What do you think?”

“I don’t think he’s a criminal, Aunt Beru.” The boy’s clothes looked expensive, despite the fact that his shirt was splattered with blood, and his pale skin pointed to a life that was often spent indoors. “Though he’s definitely not from around here.” She sighed, and headed back towards the door. “I’ll get to work on the protocol droid. Let me know if you need anything, or if something happens.”

Aunt Beru nodded and Leia left the room, going back up to the surface and unloading the droids from the speeder. She would have to go back to the northern field at some point and retrieve the WED-15 she had abandoned at the busted vaporator, but first she would bring her two droid guests down to the garage.

The astromech was, for the most part, able to get himself to the garage. He needed a bit of help getting down the stairs, but other than that he was content to roll along behind Leia as she lead the way. She left him to settle in the garage and went back up to retrieve his counterpart, who was somewhat more difficult to get downstairs. She used a cart to get him from the speeder to the entry dome, but it wouldn’t fit down the stairs, and so she then had to carry him, his metallic limbs thumping against the walls as she struggled with his weight.

She dumped him rather unceremoniously on the worktable when she finally made it to the garage, letting out a deep sigh. The astromech rolled up to her, beeping inquisitively, and Leia gave him a gentle pat. “Let’s see what we can do about your friend, huh?” she said, gathering her tools and setting them out on the table beside the protocol droid.

She started with the off-kilter head, which she suspected was the cause of most of the droid’s problems. There were likely some disconnected wires, a few bits and pieces out of place; hopefully nothing that would take long to fix. The astromech sat beside her, watching her intently as she worked to disconnect the head from the rest of the body. Just as she suspected, several of the wires leading from the droid’s head into his neck were broken, and more than a few of them looked to be rather important. She set about fixing them, reattaching them as best she could and replacing the ones that were damaged beyond repair.

Once that was done, she poked around in his head for a bit, looking for anything else that was damaged, but it all seemed to check out. Carefully she pushed his head back into place, and just as she was about to finish securing it the droid’s eyes lit up. He was perfectly still for a moment before shuffling his feet and bringing his good arm up to his face, as if he were a human suffering from a headache.

“Oh my…” he mumbled, and Leia leaned over him, smiling.

“Hello,” she greeted, and the droid stiffly twisted his neck, readjusting himself to the movement. “How are you feeling?”

“Rather poorly,” he admitted. “But, if I might ask, who are you?”

“The name’s Leia,” she said, helping him to sit up. “I’m the one who rescued you from the crash.”

The astromech beeped loudly, and the protocol droid looked over at him. “Artoo!” he cried. “You’re okay!” The little blue droid gave a short whistle, and the protocol droid gave a little huff. “Well, not everyone is as hardy as you, I’m afraid!” he said, obviously insulted.

Leia couldn’t help but smirk; she hadn’t known droids could be so indignant. “And what’s your name, goldie?” she asked.

“Oh, forgive me my poor manners, Mistress Leia,” the droid said, giving an awkward half-bow. “I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, Artoo-Detoo.” The astromech gave a cheerful little chirrup, and Leia waved at him. C-3PO continued, “You have my eternal gratitude for rescuing us. I must ask, however, if you have any idea what happened to the human we were travelling with?”

“He’s here as well,” Leia said, picking her tools back up and beginning the process of reattaching C-3PO’s arm. “He’s injured, but my uncle’s gone to find a med droid. Hopefully he’ll be alright.” She paused in her work, glancing up at the droid. “Who is he, exactly? You guys aren’t… pirates or anything, right?” Though she didn’t suspect that to be the case, she felt the need to confirm it anyways.

“Pirates! Oh, Maker, no!” C-3PO cried. “I must admit I’m not entirely sure who he is, but I do believe he was someone of great importance — a prince, though I don’t know of which planet.”

Leia’s eyes widened. “A prince? What was a prince doing all the way out here? And in an escape pod!”

“Well, that would be on account of the Empire,” 3PO said. “They were pursuing us, you see. As for our being here, I must admit, miss, that I do not know where exactly here is.”

“Tatooine,” Leia replied, “a barren rock of a planet in the middle of nowhere.” She frowned, attempting to jiggle 3PO’s arm back into its socket. “Why was the Empire after you?”

“I do not know exactly,” 3PO admitted, “but I assume it must have been on account of the Rebellion.”

“The Rebellion!” Leia looked up at the droid, her mouth open in shock. “You know about the Rebellion against the Empire?” 

C-3PO nodded. “Why, yes. We are part of it. Or, rather, our master is.”

“Have you seen many battles?” Leia asked. She had heard about the Rebellion, of course, but only through rumours and Imperial propaganda. She’d never met anyone who had actually seen it all firsthand.

“Several, I think,” 3PO said. “Actually, there’s not much to tell. I’m not much more than an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories. Not at making them interesting, anyway.”

R2-D2 suddenly let out a loud series of beeps, and C-3PO looked down at him. “Now, Artoo, calm down! You needn’t be so rude!” But R2 continued his tirade, rolling back and forth like an impatient child.

“What’s he saying?” Leia asked.

“He’s telling me to ask if you know of anybody by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi,” 3PO replied. “Apparently, he’s a resident of these parts.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Leia frowned, her brows drawing together. “Why? Is he a friend of yours?”

“He’s nobody I know, miss,” 3PO said, “but I do believe the prince was looking for him. I do not know why — I am only a protocol droid, after all. I assume he is the reason we are here.”

Leia hummed, rubbing her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, I don’t know anyone named Obi-Wan, but I know of a Ben Kenobi who lives out beyond the Dune Sea. He’s a bit of a strange old hermit, though.” She finished tightening the last bolt on 3PO’s arm, and gave his shoulder a quick pat. “There, that should do it. How does it feel?”

C-3PO began moving his arm, gingerly at first but then with more confidence. “Quite well, thank you, Mistress Leia.”

“Oh, there’s no need to call me mistress,” Leia said with a wave of her hand, putting her tools down on the table. “I’ll see what I can find out about this Obi-Wan Kenobi for you. Just stay here for now, alright?”

3PO nodded. “Of course, miss.”

◊◊◊

Uncle Owen was descending from the stairs just as Leia walked into the hallway. A human medic hobbled along behind him; he was a shrunken old man, with a face wrinkled and leathery from a lifetime spent toiling under the twin suns of Tatooine. Most settlements with a sizable enough population had at least one medic, and if they were lucky perhaps a Clone Wars-era med droid. Leia doubted any of the medics had actual medical training; there was nowhere on Tatooine for them to learn, and she couldn’t think of why anyone would want to come to a backwater desert planet to heal the ailments and injuries of farmers and slaves.

This man was likely no exception, but he no doubt still had more medical experience than any of them, and they only needed to make sure the boy had no other injuries besides the gash on his head.

The boy — the prince.

Leia breathed in deeply through her nose. They were housing a prince, and not just any prince, either: This one was involved with the Rebellion. Or, at least Leia assumed he was; why else would he have been travelling with two rebel droids?

She trailed after her uncle as he lead the medic towards her bedroom. Aunt Beru was still inside, staring sullenly at the boy’s flushed face, but she took a step back when the medic entered. Leia lingered in the doorway, watching the man’s bony fingers as they carefully peeled back the bacta patch to inspect the wound; she suspected Uncle Owen had already told him most of the story. He muttered to himself as he worked, and Aunt Beru walked around the bed to stand beside Leia.

“Were you able to fix the protocol droid?” she asked, talking quietly so as not to disturb the medic.

Leia nodded. “The droids don’t actually belong to him,” she said, “though apparently, he’s a prince of some sort.”

“What? Really?” Aunt Beru looked at her in disbelief, then glanced at the boy; the medic had started rummaging through his bag, looking for something. Uncle Owen looked over his shoulder at them, his eyebrows raised. “Where’s he from?” Aunt Beru asked. “What was he doing all the way out here?”

Leia shrugged; she didn’t suppose her aunt and uncle would be too pleased to know that their guest was likely a member of the Rebellion, and that the Empire was after him. She knew it was dangerous to keep him around, but there was nowhere else for him to go. She wanted to help him, and so she kept that bit of information to herself. “The droid didn’t know much about him,” she said. “Not even his name. But I think he was looking for someone — a man by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi. I thought he might have meant old Ben Kenobi.”

Uncle Owen turned to fully face them, a deep frown now pulling at his lips. He looked disquieted, and cast the boy a quick, uncertain look.

“Do you know who he’s talking about?” Leia asked, seeing the look on her uncle’s face.

“That old man’s just a crazy old wizard,” Uncle Owen said with a shake of his head. “Whoever that boy’s looking for, he won’t find him. I don’t think he exists anymore. He died about the same time as your father.”

Leia’s eyebrows shot up. “My father?”

“Just forget about it, Leia,” he said. He gave the boy one last suspicious look before heading for the door. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with. All you need to worry about is finishing your work. Understand?”

Leia scowled but nodded, glancing one last time at the unconscious prince lying in her bed. Keeping him here put them all at risk — the Empire was probably already looking for him, and once they found the crashed pod they would search all the surrounding homesteads for him. The Empire had never bothered much with Tatooine, but Leia had still heard the stories about its brutality. They would not be merciful towards anyone found harbouring the rebel prince.

Yet there was something about the boy that kept Leia from telling her aunt and uncle the truth — something that made her want to ensure he was safe. She simply hoped it wasn’t something she would come to regret.

◊◊◊

It was late in the afternoon by the time Leia returned from the northern fields, having retrieved the WED-15 repair droid and finished servicing the remaining vaporators. The medic was long gone by then, and Aunt Beru was just finishing with dinner. The boy was still unconscious; apparently, he suffered from a minor concussion, but was otherwise alright and would likely be awake by the morning. Leia had spent the entire afternoon debating over her decision not to tell Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about the boy’s connection to the Rebellion. She knew her uncle would react negatively, and would want the boy out of his house as soon as he woke up. That was the reasonable thing to do, and she knew it, but the same part of her that wanted the boy safe also wanted him to stay — she wanted to talk with him, to ask him about the Rebellion, and to possibly help him find the mysterious Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She decided, then, that she would wait until he was awake. She’d find out who he really was, and what his connection to the Rebellion was, and then she would tell her aunt and uncle the truth.

The garage was growing dark when she arrived, carrying the tools she had used to repair the vaporators. Setting them down on the worktable, she looked around with a frown; neither of the rebel droids were anywhere to be found.

“See-Threepio?” she called. “Artoo-Detoo?” She walked over to the wall, pressing a button on the control pad that turned on the overhead lights. They flickered a bit before finally coming to life, illuminating the garage in a warm orange glow. C-3PO’s golden head suddenly appeared from behind a rusted moisture vaporator base, his arms held up in surprise. Leia frowned at him. “Why are you hiding over there?” she asked.

C-3PO stumbled forward, nearly tripping over an old piece of tarp. “It wasn’t my fault, miss!” he cried, obviously panicked. “Please don’t deactivate me! I told him not to go, but he wouldn’t listen; kept babbling on about finding Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Leia let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. “Oh, no,” she breathed, then turned and raced for the door.

3PO hobbled after her, following behind as she hurried outside onto the salt flat. Pulling the macrobinoculars from her utility belt, she scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of the little astromech droid — he was nowhere in sight.

“That R2 unit has always been a problem,” 3PO said, shuffling forward to stand beside Leia. “These astro-droids are getting quite out of hand. I told him to wait until the prince woke up, but he insisted on going. He said he needed to ensure the mission was completed. Honestly, miss, I have no idea where he got such grandiose ideas!”

Leia sighed, lowering the macrobinoculars. “I can’t see him,” she said. “Blast it! I don’t suppose our royal friend will be too pleased when he wakes up and finds one of his droids missing.”

“I don’t think he would, miss,” 3PO agreed. He seemed to hesitate a bit before continuing, “Pardon me, miss, but couldn’t we go after him?”

Leia shook her head. “It’s too dangerous; too many Sand People. We’ll have to wait until morning to look for him, if he hasn’t already been snatched up by Jawas by then.” She hooked her macrobinoculars back onto her belt, just as Aunt Beru’s voice came floating up to her from the courtyard.

“Leia!” she called. “Dinner’s ready!”

“Alright, I’ll be right there!” Leia cried back. She took one last look at the darkening horizon. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t get too far,” she muttered, before turning and heading back inside.

◊◊◊

She set out in the early morning, when the second sun was just beginning to peak beyond the horizon and no one else was awake. She brought C-3PO along, and he piloted the speeder as she scanned the landscape for any signs of the little blue astromech.

“Old Ben lives out this way,” she said, pointing straight ahead to where the Jundland Wastes loomed in the distance, “but I don’t think that little R2 unit could have gotten that far. The Wastes are crawling with Sand People, and the Jawas circle around here all the time. Who knows what could’ve happened to him.” She sighed; she really hoped R2-D2 hadn’t been very important to the prince.

“I’m dreadfully sorry about all this, miss,” 3PO said. “You have already saved us once, and now you must do it a second time simply because Artoo could not listen to reason.”

“It’s alright, Threepio,” Leia said, patting the droid on the shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. Your friend seems to be rather headstrong, for a droid.”

“Oh, he is, miss, believe me.”

Leia grinned, and glanced down at the scanner she held in her hands. There was something dead ahead, and from what she could tell, it was a droid. “There’s something straight ahead of us on the scanner,” she said. “I think it might be our wayward astromech. Come on, speed up.”

3PO did as he was told, and they raced into the Jundland Wastes. Sure enough, they were soon coming up on R2-D2, rolling along the rocky canyon floor as if he was out for an evening stroll. C-3PO stopped the speeder and Leia hopped out, slinging her blaster rifle over her back as she ran to meet R2.

“Where are you off to, little guy?” she asked, stepping in front of him and blocking his way. R2 let out a rather indignant whistle, and Leia frowned at him.

“Now, Artoo, that’s enough of that!” 3PO said, sounding quite cross. “Mistress Leia here rescued us from the crash and gave us shelter, and was kind enough to come find you before you got yourself lost or destroyed, which is more than I would do were I in her situation! I will not tolerate another unkind word towards her.”

R2 gave what sounded like a mocking retort, but Leia just shook her head. “Come on, we should get going,” she said, heading back towards the speeder, “before my uncle starts wondering where we went.”

She was just about to unsling her blaster from around her shoulder when R2 let out a flurry of frantic beeps and whistles, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. “What is it?” Leia asked, looking from the astromech to C-3PO.

The protocol droid took a startled half-step back. “Oh my… he says there are several creatures approaching from the southeast.”

Leia frowned, grabbing her blaster off her back and holding it at the ready in her hands. “Blast,” she muttered. “It’s probably Sand People. Stay here; I’ll go take a look.”  

She carefully made her way to the top of a ridge that overlooked the canyon. Pulling out her macrobinoculars, she lied down on her stomach, propping herself up with her elbows as she peered through the binoculars into the canyon below. It did not take her long to find two Banthas, riderless and shuffling about in the sand. She zoomed in closer, just as a Tusken Raider stepped out from behind one of the large, lumbering creatures.

Suddenly something stepped in front of her binoculars, blocking her view. She looked up to see a second Tusken Raider standing over her, his gaderffii held high above his head. Leia gasped and made to sit up; the Tusken Raider let out a loud animalistic cry, bringing his gaderffii down towards her in a swinging arc. She managed to dodge the first blow, but he caught her on the second swing, his club-like weapon striking her in the back of the head, and she fell forward into the dust, instantly unconscious.

Chapter Text

Luke woke slowly, the world coming back to him in bits and pieces as the fog that clouded his mind began to clear. He was lying on a bed; the mattress was hard and lumpy, and the blankets that covered him were itchy. When he opened his eyes, it was to see a bright, sun-filled room laid out before him; the walls were made of a chalky-coloured stone, and all the light seemed to be pouring in from a narrow slit of a window near the ceiling. He felt icy fear pump through his veins at the sight — he had no idea where he was.

Thinking back, he found that all of his most recent memories were cloudy and unclear; it was like trying to recall a mostly-forgotten dream. He didn’t remember how he had gotten to this place, and it took several moments of digging to remember that he had been headed for Tatooine. That must be where he was now, he realized; despite the fact that he was indoors and surrounded by stone, he could feel the desert heat pressing against him, leaking in through the window and the walls. He remembered the droids who had been with him, the pod they had been travelling in, and something about a Star Destroyer, and he just barely held onto the memory of placing the Death Star plans within R2-D2. It was that memory that caused him to sit up, slowly hoisting himself up on unsteady arms.  

The droid was nowhere to be seen, and a feeling of horrible panic joined the fear still lingering in the pit of his stomach. There was a dull ache pounding against the front of his skull, and when he reached up he found a bacta patch plastered to his forehead; he guessed that it had been put there by the same person who had brought him here. His mouth and throat were dry and scratchy, and when he threw back the thin covers and attempted to stand the room began to spin in front of him, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and fall back onto the pillows. He needed to find R2-D2 and make sure he was alright — that the plans were still with him — but he didn’t think he could stand without passing out.

He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he twisted his shaking hands into the covers. He needed to come up with a plan to figure out where he was and what had happened to R2-D2 — preferably without collapsing. The dull ache in his head was quickly becoming more and more painful, and he wished desperately for a glass of water. Opening his eyes, he glanced around the room. It was small and sparsely furnished, with very little in the way of decoration. A collection of sandy-coloured rocks and cloudy quartz sat atop a short, rickety dresser, and a pile of laundry was heaped on a bench beneath the window. The only other item of any interest was the old slugthrower propped against the nearby corner. Luke wondered if it still worked, and filed it away in his mind just in case.

There was, however, no water, and his mouth was beginning to feel as dry as the arid desert outside. He was starting to consider calling out for someone when the door to the room slid open, and a brown-haired, middle-aged woman stepped inside. Luke shifted further back onto the bed, surprised, but the woman just smiled, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” she said. “That’s a good sign. How are you feeling?”

“I…” Luke stared at the woman, and shook his head. “Who are you?” he asked. “Where am I?”

“My name’s Beru,” she replied. “You’re at my home, on Tatooine. More specifically, in my niece’s bedroom. She’s the one who found you and your droids in that crashed pod.”

Crash… yes, Luke could remember the Star Destroyer firing on them, and being hit. He must have smacked his head on something and blacked out; that would explain the bacta patch, and the stabbing headache. “Where are the droids now?” he asked.

“My niece has them,” Beru explained. “Something about finding them new parts. They weren’t too badly damaged, though, I promise. Just a few repairs, is all.”

“When did she find me?”

“Yesterday afternoon. It’s still early morning now, so I don’t think you’ve been out for long.”

He nodded, but the movement caused the pain in his head to flare up, so he stopped. “Could I have a glass of water, please?” he asked.

“Yes, of course! Just a second.” Beru quickly retreated back into the hallway, leaving Luke alone again. He didn’t move, instead taking in several deep, rhythmic breaths in an attempt to soothe his nerves and ease his pounding headache. R2-D2 and C-3PO were both alright; that was good news. He only hoped Beru’s niece returned soon.

Less than a minute later Beru was back, handing him a glass of cool water. He drank it greedily, until the whole thing was finished, then Beru took back the empty glass, placing it on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” he said, and she nodded. “I… You’re very kind to have taken me in.” He paused, hesitating, before continuing, “I can compensate you, for caring for both me and my droids, and buying them new parts. It’s the least I could do, to thank you for your generosity.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then Beru nodded again. In the Core Worlds, most people would have rejected his offer, or at least argued before accepting. But Tatooine was a poverty-stricken planet in the Outer Rim. Here, Luke knew, you did not turn away money when it was offered, and he offered it to her wholeheartedly.  

“My niece…” Beru started, seeming to hesitate a moment before continuing, “She says you’re a prince. That’s what your protocol droid told her.”

Luke wondered, briefly, if she was going to try and get more money from him, but he quickly pushed that idea from his mind; Beru seemed like a kind, honest woman, and though they looked nothing alike, she reminded him vaguely of his mother. There was something about her that just seemed instinctively maternal. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I’m a prince. My name is Luke Organa. I—“

He was cut off by the sound of someone yelling outside. It sounded like a man, but their words were too indistinct for Luke to understand. A frown crossed Beru’s face, and she went over to the door, leaning out and peering down the hallway.

“Who is it?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m going to go see. I’ll be right back.” She cast him one last glance before disappearing down the hallway.

Luke remained seated on the bed, listening intently as her footsteps retreated. The sounds of a conversation floated down, but it was all much too quiet for him to understand, or to even tell who was speaking. A feeling of dread began to seep into him, and he glanced at the slugthrower in the corner of the room. Slowly, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. There was a burst of yelling from outside, and then heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Even though simply moving had sent the world whirling, Luke stood, hurrying across the room and grabbing the slugthrower.

It felt as if the ground was going to fall out from under him at any moment, but he managed to remain on his feet. He’d never used a slugthrower before, but it was close enough to a blaster that he felt he could figure it out. He gave it a quick once-over, blinking to focus his vision, and then aimed the weapon at the door. The footsteps grew closer, stopping every few moments as if inspecting something before continuing. Luke’s heart was thudding in his chest as they approached the bedroom.

An Imperial stormtrooper stepped into the doorway.

◊◊◊

When Leia came to, it was to find Ben Kenobi kneeling beside her, a look of concern on his weathered old face. Exhaling slowly, she carefully lifted herself up into a sitting position, rubbing at the tender bump now raised on the back of her head.

“Easy now,” Ben said, his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve had a busy day. You’re fortunate to be all in one piece.”

Leia blinked, attempting to clear away some of the fuzz that still lingered in her mind. “Ben Kenobi,” she breathed. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“The Jundland Wastes are not to be travelled lightly,” Ben said, standing and reaching out a hand to her. She took it, and he helped hoist her to her feet, leading her to a rock and settling her down onto it. R2 rolled up to her, beeping his relief that she was alright, and she gave him a small smile. Ben looked, briefly, at the droid before turning back to Leia. “Tell me, young Leia, what brings you out this far?” he asked.

“This droid here,” Leia answered, pointing to R2, who gave a series of little beeps. “I found him in a crashed escape pod yesterday, alongside a protocol droid and a boy. Apparently, they were looking for someone, but the boy was unconscious from the crash, and so this little guy decided to complete the mission himself. The person they’re looking for seems to be someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you who that is? Is he a relative of yours?”

At the sound of the name Obi-Wan, Ben’s eyes widened, and he slowly sank back onto the rock across from Leia. “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said, staring at her with a look of incredulity on his face. His voice quieted. “Obi-Wan… Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time… a long time.”

Leia’s eyebrows drew together as she watched the old wizard. “My uncle said something about him,” she said. “He told me he was dead.”

Ben shook his head. “Oh, he’s not dead. Well, not yet.”

“Then you know him?”

“Well of course I know him!” Something of a small smirk crossed Ben’s face, and he tapped his hand against his own chest. “He’s me.” At that, R2 let out a stream of loud, excited beeps. “I haven’t gone by the name Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born.”

“So do you have any idea why they were looking for you?” Leia asked, gesturing to R2.

Ben looked at the droid, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I might have an idea,” he said, but before he could say more the cries of a group of Sand People came resounding down into the canyon. “I think we better get inside,” he said, standing. “The Sand People are easily startled, but they’ll soon be back, and in greater numbers.”

Leia stood, and looked to R2. “Where’s Threepio?” she asked, but the only answer the droid had was an unknowing whistle.

She found the protocol droid several metres away, lying in a pile of sand with his left arm ripped off and discarded beside him; it was the same arm that had been damaged in the crash. He must have been set upon by the Sand People before he had had a chance to hide. Grabbing his arm, Leia helped him to stand, and Ben lead the way to his home.

◊◊◊

Ben’s dwelling was small and cluttered, outfitted with only the barest necessities for survival, but it was comfortable. Leia had settled 3PO onto a bench in the corner and was in the process of fixing his arm, hopefully for good this time.

“My father didn’t fight in the wars,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Ben, who sat across the table from her. “He was a navigator on a spice freighter.”

“Is that what your uncle told you?” Ben asked, one eyebrow raised. “He could never understand why your father left; he thought he should have stayed here, and not gotten involved.”

Leia paused, turning to face him fully. “Did you fight in the Clone Wars, too?” she asked.

“Yes.” Ben nodded. “I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father.”

Leia stared at him, and at the distant expression on his face. “What was he like? My father?”

A small, almost sad, smile pulled at Ben’s lips. “He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior.” He looked at Leia, and his smile grew. “From what I understand, you have become quite proficient with a blaster yourself.”

She grinned and shrugged, looking back at 3PO’s arm, now almost completely reattached.

Ben nodded and looked away again, the smile slipping from his face just the tiniest amount. “And he was a good friend… Which reminds me — I have something here for you.” He stood, walking over to a small chest sitting on the floor nearby. Lifting the lid, he began to rummage about inside. “Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle refused. He said it wasn’t proper; I think he was afraid you would follow old Obi-Wan on some damned-fool idealistic crusade, like your father.”

Having finished tightening the last bolts on 3PO’s arm, Leia looked over to where Ben stood; he now held a strange cylindrical object in his hand, covered in buttons and other strange gadgets.

“Miss,” 3PO said, and Leia glanced back at him, “if you’ll not be needing me, I’ll shut down for a while.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.” She stood, not even checking to see if the droid had even shut down before wandering over to stand near Ben, staring at the strange object in his hands. “What is it?” she asked.

“Your father’s lightsaber,” Ben said, holding it out to her. “The weapon of a Jedi Knight.”

Carefully, Leia took it in her hands. As soon as her fingers wrapped around the cool metal, a barrage of images flew across her vision, so fast she could barely tell what she was looking at. She saw battles, one after the other, fought between droids and men in white armour; children, dead and crumpled on a stone floor; a river of lava and a woman lying unconscious. A man’s voice sounded in her ears, a cry that was nothing more than a whisper: “I hate you!” She could feel a crushing mix of rage and sorrow, churning inside her like an angered animal and leaving tears, unshed, lingering in her eyes.

The images faded as quickly as they came, taking with them the anger and the sorrow, and leaving Leia staring at the weapon, stunned. “What… what was that?” she asked, looking up with wide eyes at Ben, who was watching her curiously.

“Did you see something?” he asked.

She nodded. “Just flashes of images; battles and… and massacres.” A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of what she had seen.

Ben was silent for a moment, scrutinizing both her and the lightsaber with an unreadable expression on his face. “I believe you might have just unwillingly witnessed events from the lightsaber’s past,” he said. “It is a rare ability known as psychometry; very useful, but also very dangerous.”

Leia looked down at the lightsaber hilt, turning it over in her hands. “I saw children,” she said, “murdered. Who killed them? Who could kill children?”

Ben sat back down, and Leia followed suit, staring at him expectantly. He sighed, rubbing tiredly at his knees before turning to face her. “The Clone Wars were a dark time,” he began. “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. But that was before the Empire. They hunted down and destroyed the Jedi, killing all who they found — including the children.”

“Is that how my father died?”

There was a moment of hesitation, barely even noticeable, before Ben nodded. “A young Jedi named Darth Vader, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped the Empire to find and kill the Jedi. He betrayed and murdered your father. Now the Jedi are all but extinct.” He looked at Leia, and the expression he wore was grave. “Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force.”

Leia frowned. “The Force?”

“It is what gives a Jedi their power,” Ben explained. “It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.”

Leia wanted to ask more, but R2 suddenly let out a stream of loud whistles, drawing Ben’s attention away. “What is it, my little friend?” he asked, standing and walking over to where R2 sat. “Have you got something for me?” The astromech beeped incomprehensibly, and then one of the knobs of his head began to glow, projecting a blue hologram onto the small round table that sat in the middle of the room. Leia recognized it instantly as the prince.

“General Kenobi,” the hologram began, “a long time ago you worked alongside my father during the Clone Wars. Now, he asks you once again to help him in his fight against the Empire. Regretfully, my ship has fallen under attack and I have been forced to flee in an escape pod. If you are seeing this message, then my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have entrusted this R2 unit with the safekeeping of information that is vital to the Rebellion’s survival. It is imperative that my father receive it. You must see this dr—“

He was cut off by what sounded like an explosion. The hologram shook and flickered, then died. Ben sat down and leaned back, thoughtfully running a hand over his short beard. Leia’s eyes remained focused on the place where the hologram had been; so, the boy was a rebel. Not only that, but he had been carrying sensitive information — information that now sat in R2-D2’s memory systems. Information that the Empire was no doubt anxious to get a hold of.

Ben looked over at her and leaned forward, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You must learn the ways of the Force,” he said, “if you are to come with me to Alderaan.”

Leia blinked. “Alderaan?” She stared incredulously at the old man. “I… You want me to go with you?”

“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “I’m getting much too old for this sort of thing, you know.”

She felt a smile stretch across her face as a sort of incredulous joy filled her. He wanted her to go with him to Alderaan — to the Core Worlds, on a mission for the Rebellion. Off of Tatooine. Ben would get her off Tatooine; he was her ticket.  

“The prince is at my home,” she said, gesturing to the table where, only moments ago, the hologram had appeared. “He was injured in the crash, but he should be alright to travel soon. I can bring you to him.”

Ben’s eyebrows rose, his expression hopeful. “So then you are coming with me?”

Leia took in a deep breath. Uncle Owen would be furious to know she had agreed to travel to Alderaan with Ben Kenobi, but it was an opportunity she could not pass up. It might be her only way of ever getting off Tatooine, and she was going to take it, with or without her uncle’s approval.

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I want to learn the ways of the Force. I want to become a Jedi, like my father.”

◊◊◊

Leia saw the smoke long before the entry dome came into view. It was thick and black, pouring into the blue sky like oil. Her heart caught in her throat at the sight of it, and she sped up so quickly that Ben, sitting beside her in the speeder, reached out to steady himself.

The black smoke was coming from the garage. As they approached the farm, Leia stopped the speeder and jumped out, running towards the scorched entry dome; its sandy pourstone was black with soot, and wisps of grey smoke floated from the doorway. Everything stank of fire, and the smoke stung her eyes and scratched at her throat as she spun around wildly.

“Uncle Owen!” she called, scanning the area for any sign of her aunt and uncle. “Aunt Beru! Uncle Owen!”

There was no answer. She took a few stumbling steps towards the entry dome, and paused; there, in the doorway, were two blackened corpses, burnt beyond recognition. A sob caught in her throat, and she threw her hands up to cover her mouth. She didn’t even need to ask herself who had done this — the Empire had come for the prince, and they had killed her aunt and uncle in retaliation. Because of her.

Her breath came in heaving gasps, and she crumpled to the ground. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were dead, and the prince was likely in the hands of the Empire, and she hadn’t been there to stop it. She had nothing now — no home, no family, no possessions save the clothes she wore and her dead father’s lightsaber. And it was all her fault.

The weight of a comforting hand settled on her shoulder. “There was nothing you could have done, Leia,” Ben said. “Had you been there, you too would be dead, and the Empire would have the droids as well as the prince.”

Leia wiped angrily at the tears leaking from her eyes, blinking to keep them at bay. “I knew he was part of the Rebellion,” she whispered. “I knew the Empire was after him, and I didn’t warn them. It’s my fault they’re dead.”

“It is the Empire’s fault they are dead,” Ben said, squeezing her shoulder. “That is who you must blame. Not yourself.”

She nodded. Despite what Ben said, she didn’t know if she could ever forgive herself for this — for causing the deaths of the people who had raised her and loved her all her life, however inadvertently it might have been.

But she did know one thing: She would become a Jedi, and she would help put an end to the Empire.

◊◊◊

Luke followed behind the two stormtroopers as they lead him through the hallway, his hands bound together in front of him. He felt unsteady, and the shiny black floor of the corridor seemed to swing from side to side, as if attempting to throw him off balance. The pain in his head was slowly becoming excruciating, and the gash on his forehead had begun to sting; the bacta patch had fallen off at some point, leaving the wound only partially healed and likely to scar. He tried not to focus on that, however — he had bigger issues to deal with.

He had been dragged rather unceremoniously from the home on Tatooine; the stormtroopers hadn’t even allowed him to put his boots on. Barely able to stand, they’d had to practically carry him away. He didn’t remember most of the journey, but they had brought him up to a Star Destroyer, where he had promptly been locked away in a cell and had fallen unconscious again. He had woken only when they had come to bring him to the Death Star.

The Death Star — the battle station with enough power to destroy an entire planet, whose plans he had been entrusted to bring to Rebel leadership, and on which he was now a prisoner. Luke liked to think of himself as brave, but the thought of being imprisoned on the Death Star left no small amount of fear in his heart.

The stormtroopers lead him deep within the bowels of the station. He had been given a pair of shoes before leaving the Star Destroyer, and they fit poorly, pinching at his toes with every step he took. Before long he knew his feet would be red and blistered, but they did not stop until they reached their destination — a cell, on one of the station’s many detention levels. One of his escorts removed the binders from his wrists, and the other all but threw him inside.

The cell was bare, with only a hard metal bench to sit on. The walls were black, and the lights set into the ceiling were covered by a metal grating. A camera sat on the wall above the door, watching his every move; Luke stared into it defiantly as the door to his cell hissed shut, leaving him all alone.

He sat down on the bench, his fingers curling around the edge to grip the cold metal. He felt nauseated, and the pounding pain in his skull didn’t help. Closing his eyes, he took in several deep breaths and tried to console himself — he had been captured, yes, but all was not lost. R2-D2 had not been found, and was likely still safe with Beru’s niece. The droid would seek out Obi-Wan Kenobi, and get the plans to Luke’s father. The Rebellion could still be saved.

In the meantime, Luke would do what he could to survive. He was a member of the Imperial Senate, and a font of knowledge regarding the Rebel Alliance. The Empire would not kill him — not right away. They would try and get whatever information they could out of him, by whatever means necessary, but he had been trained to resist interrogation, and to withstand torture. He would not willingly give away the Rebellion; of this he was sure.

It was not long before the door to his cell was sliding open once more. Luke opened his eyes to see two black-clad guards stepping into the room, but they did not worry him; it was the looming figure behind them that gave him cause for concern. Darth Vader strode into the cell, bringing with him such an air of malice and fear that Luke felt his conviction waver, and he shrank back, as if there was somewhere for him to escape to.

“Your Highness,” Vader said, his voice deep and menacing, “how kind of you to finally join us.”

“Darth Vader,” Luke replied, hoping that none of the fear he felt showed in his voice. “I suspect you’ve come to interrogate me?”

“Yes. Very good.” The praise was mocking, and Luke clenched his jaw. Vader almost seemed to be smirking beneath his mask. “You will tell me what happened to the plans you received,” he said.

“I don’t—“

“Do not try and lie to me, Your Highness,” Vader interrupted. “Several transmissions were beamed to your ship by rebel spies. The plans were not found onboard, and you are the only one who escaped. So, I will say it again, Prince Luke — you will tell me what happened to the plans you received.” He stared down at Luke, and Luke stared back up at him, despite the fear that rose in him at the sight of Vader’s black mask and its soulless red eyes.

He said nothing, and Vader turned to the doorway. An interrogator droid, black as the suit of its master and covered in all manner of disquieting gadgets, floated into the room. It held a needle in one of its probes, and the liquid inside glinted menacingly in the dim light.

Vader stepped close to him, leaning down as the droid made its slow approach. “We will find the plans, and your hidden Rebel base, as well,” he warned, his words dripping malice. “Of that you can be sure, Your Highness.”

Chapter Text

Smoke hung thick in the cantina, the scent of it mixing with that of sour alcohol and sweat. It was quite possibly the seediest cantina Leia had ever been to — and she’d been to quite a few. Located on the far side of Mos Eisley, it was, according to Ben, a favourite of the freighter pilots who could be found ambling around the spaceport. Looking around, however, Leia saw more than a few unsavoury characters; they had been in the cantina for perhaps ten minutes, and she’d already almost been shot by a pair of disgruntled patrons. They likely would have succeeded, as well, had it not been for Ben’s quick reflexes with his lightsaber. As she followed him across the cantina floor, she wondered how he knew about this place — it certainly didn’t seem like the type of establishment an old hermit would frequent.

She looked warily at the large Wookiee leading the way. Ben had introduced him as Chewbacca; apparently, he was first mate on a ship that might be able to take them to Alderaan. Leia had never seen a Wookiee in person before, and she couldn’t help but stare at the ginormous, fur-covered creature. He had to be at least seven feet tall, and towered high above her slight frame.

Chewbacca took them to a table in a far corner of the cantina, where a scruffy-haired man sat lounging back against the seats. Leia slid into a chair beside Ben, and the man sat up, placing his hands together on the table between them. He gave Leia a quick smirk before introducing himself. “Han Solo. I’m captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you’re looking for passage to the Alderaan system.”

“Yes, indeed,” Ben said, adding quickly, “if it’s a fast ship.”

Han actually looked insulted. “Fast ship?” he asked. “You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?”

Ben blinked, and shook his head. “Should I have?”

“It’s the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.”

Ben’s eyebrows drew together, and he gave Han a look that said he didn’t quite believe the obvious lies he was telling them. Leia had to resist the urge to laugh.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” she told him, but he ignored her.

“I’ve outrun Imperial starships,” he continued, tapping against the table for emphasis. “Not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you. I’m talking about the big Corellian ships, now.” He paused, as if to let that information sink in. “She’s fast enough for you, old man. What’s the cargo?”

“Only passengers,” Ben said. “Myself, the girl, two droids… and no questions asked.”

Han grinned, letting out a quiet laugh. “What is it? Some kind of local trouble?”

“Let’s just say we’d like to avoid any Imperial entanglements.”

“Well, that’s the real trick, isn’t it?” Han asked, leaning back in his seat. “And it’s going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand, all in advance.”

Leia gaped at him. “Ten thousand?” she cried. “That’s piracy!”

“It’s a dangerous business, sweetheart,” Han said, giving her another lazy smirk. She scowled at him in return.

“Come on, Ben.” She reached for the old man’s arm and made to stand. “This guy’s nothing but a scoundrel.”

But Ben waved her off, and she sat back down, huffing in annoyance. Ben gave Han a level look. “We could pay you two thousand now,” he said, “plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan.”

Leia’s eyes widened, and she looked at him. Where was he going to get that kind of money? She certainly didn’t have it.

Han’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Seventeen, huh?” Ben gave a single nod, and a smile slowly stretched its way across Han’s face. “Okay, you guys got yourselves a ship,” he said. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready. Docking bay ninety-four.”

Ben nodded again. “Ninety-four,” he repeated, and Leia frowned. She didn’t trust their new captain friend; he seemed to be a shady character, and little more than a mercenary. She would have to keep a close eye on him to make sure he didn’t pull anything on them.

They stood to leave, and Han gave them both a small nod by way of farewell. When Leia glanced back over her shoulder, he was still watching them, a pleased smile on his face.

◊◊◊

Luke didn’t look up when the doors to his cell hissed open. He remained where he was, slumped against the wall, staring blindly at his hands. They looked pale against the dirtied white of his clothes — pale and smooth, the hands of a prince and a politician.

He did not have to look up to know that it was Vader standing in the corridor outside his cell. It was as if the man brought with him a blast of icy winter air, chilling Luke to his very core. The distinctive mechanical breathing grew louder as Vader stepped into the room: the sound of his life-support suit labouring to keep whatever creature lurked within it alive. Finally, Luke looked up, shuddering at the sight of the black suit.

Vader’s torture had lasted for what felt like hours. It had been the most excruciatingly painful thing Luke had ever experienced, and yet he had somehow managed to resist, refusing to reveal any information regarding the Death Star plans or the location of the Alliance’s base. This had, of course, angered Vader, but Luke could tell it had also confused him; obviously, the dark lord was used to his victims being much more complacent.

However, it did not seem as if Vader was back for a second round. Luke could see no interrogator droids, and he was accompanied this time by two stormtroopers, instead of the black-clad Imperial guards. While this came as a small relief, Luke’s mind raced with other possible reasons why Darth Vader might be paying him a visit.

“Your Highness,” Vader said, pausing in the doorway, “come with me.”

Luke stared at him a moment, and then slowly stood. The two stormtroopers approached him, securing a set of binders around his wrists as Vader turned and exited the cell. Luke was pushed along after him, the stormtroopers following behind with their blasters drawn.

“Where are we going?” he asked, but one of the troopers gave him a rough shove in the shoulder with the butt of his rifle, silencing him; Vader did not even glance back.

He lead them along the long corridor to the end of the cell block, into a waiting elevator. They climbed up, ascending past the station’s many levels, seemingly reaching for the very top. The only sound throughout the journey was that of Vader’s breathing, and the quiet clink of plastoid hitting together as the troopers shifted from foot to foot.

Finally, the elevator stopped, and it was not far from there to their destination. The doors were already open, revealing a control room, seemingly situated directly above the large laser that was the station’s main feature.

Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin stood inside, staring out a large viewport that took up the entirety of one wall; through it, Luke could see a field of stars and, in the distance, Alderaan, a hanging blue sphere in an expanse of black. His heart jumped at the sight. Tarkin turned at the sound of their arrival, and the admiral standing beside him stepped away as they approached.

“Governor Tarkin,” Luke greeted, not even attempting to hide any of the dislike he held for the man standing in front of him, and trying in vain to push down the fear he felt at the sight of his home planet hanging outside the Death Star’s windows. “Of course. I should have expected to find you here.”

Tarkin gave him an amused smile. “A pleasure, as always, Prince Luke,” he said. “I must admit, though, I did not find it difficult to sign the order terminating your life.”

Luke did not respond, though his bound hands curled into fists as he worked to keep his expression neutral.

“Before your execution, however,” Tarkin said, “I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational.” He spread his arms out, gesturing to the room around them. The smile still clung to his face. “No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.”

“You cannot possibly hope to control the entire galaxy through fear,” Luke said.

“That is where you are wrong, Your Highness. This battle station will strike fear into the hearts of every creature in this galaxy, and they will have no choice but to obey the Empire, lest they be destroyed.” If possible, the Grand Moff’s smile became even more sinister. “In a way, you have helped to determine the choice of the planet that will be destroyed first. Since you refuse to provide us with the location of the stolen plans, I have decided to test this station’s destructive power on your home planet of Alderaan.”

Luke’s breath caught in his throat; this is what he had feared when he had first seen that the Death Star was lingering in the Alderaan system. He had heard about what had happened on Jedha, and had seen the destruction on Scarif. He knew what the Death Star was capable of, and he knew that Tarkin’s threats were not empty ones. “Please, no,” he begged, taking a step towards Tarkin. “Alderaan is a peaceful planet; you cannot possibly justify killing millions of innocents.”

“Innocents?” Tarkin raised one eyebrow, turning on his heel to face the wide viewport. “Oh, no, Prince Luke, your people are not innocent. We have long suspected your family’s involvement with the Rebellion, and now we know that our suspicions were correct. Alderaan is a planet of rebels and traitors, and will serve well as an example of what happens to those who oppose the Emperor.” He paused, glancing back over his shoulder at Luke. “Unless, of course, you tell me what you did with the stolen plans.”

Luke’s heart hammered in his chest; he looked past Tarkin, through the viewport to Alderaan. In his mind, he could see its snow-capped mountains and green valleys, the palace where he had grown up and his parents — his parents, who currently stood on the planet’s surface. He held their lives, and the lives of everyone else on Alderaan, in his hands.

He did not take his eyes off the distant blue planet as he spoke. “A droid. The plans are with a droid.”

“What model?” Tarkin asked, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“A PX-5 security droid.” The lie came easily to Luke; PX-5s were the type of droid most often used as senatorial bodyguards. It was completely believable for him to have had one with him on the Tantive IV. “I left him on Tatooine.” He hoped desperately that R2 had already gotten off the desert planet; that he was getting as far away from it as he possibly could.

Tarkin looked past Luke to where Vader still stood, giving the dark lord a self-satisfied smile. “There, Lord Vader, he can be reasoned with.” He turned to the admiral, still standing off to the side of the room. “Continue with the operation,” he ordered. “You may fire when ready.”

“No!” Luke cried. “What are you doing? I gave you the information you wanted!”

“You’re much too trusting,” Tarkin said, shaking his head. “Alderaan is the perfect target for our demonstration, and your people’s rebellious actions cannot go unpunished.”

“Please.” Luke rushed forward, his bound hands held up in front of him, but Vader reached out and pulled him back; his fingers on Luke’s shoulders were like claws of iron, digging into his skin. Breathless, Luke stared out at his home planet, so peaceful and calm, as beautiful as it always was. On its surface, the people of Alderaan were going about their usual lives; perhaps they noticed the strange moon-like object hanging in their sky, perhaps not. Luke imagined his parents sitting together in his mother’s office, as they so often did, discussing the politics of the galaxy.

He managed to hold back his gasp as a bright green laser shot forth from the Death Star, streaking through space towards Alderaan. It was over in less than a second; the laser struck the planet’s surface, and it exploded in a shower of rock and fire. It felt as if Luke’s heart had been ripped from his chest, and all breath stolen from his lungs; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, and it was if all the pain and fear of his people’s last moments were ricocheting through his mind. The final screams of millions of dead.

Where Alderaan had once existed, there was now nothing but a field of asteroids.

It was gone. It was all gone.

◊◊◊

They entered the Alderaan system and found nothing but ruin.

Leia was standing in the central hold area of the Millennium Falcon with Ben, her father’s lightsaber ignited and held out in front of her. Its shining blade was the colour of a cloudless blue sky, and it hummed in her hands as she swung it, as if it were a living, breathing creature. A seeker droid circled around her, occasionally shooting bolts her way that she attempted to block with her ‘saber. She had managed to do so a few times already, and had even done it with a helmet covering her eyes. The lightsaber was a completely different weapon than the blaster she was used to, but she was confident that, with enough practice, she could wield it with just as much skill.

The ship rocked unexpectedly as they dropped out of hyperspace. Leia stumbled forward, quickly retracting the lightsaber’s blade, and Ben caught her by the shoulder before she could fall. Clipping her ‘saber back onto her belt, the two of them hurried through the ship’s corridors to the cockpit, where Han and Chewbacca sat at the controls. Outside the viewport, Leia could see a field of asteroids whirling all around them.

“What’s happening?” she asked, sliding into the seat behind Chewie’s.

“Our position’s correct,” Han said, fiddling with controls on the dash, “only there’s no Alderaan.”

“That’s not possible,” Leia argued. “It has to be here! Are you sure you have it right?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Han snapped. “I’m telling you, sweetheart, it’s not here. It’s gone! Completely blown away!”

Leia scowled at the back of Han’s head. “How’s that even possible?”

“It’s been destroyed,” Ben said, slowly sinking into the chair beside her, “by the Empire.”

“The entire star fleet couldn’t destroy a whole planet,” Han argued. “It’d take a thousand ships with more firepower than I’ve—” He was interrupted by a loud beeping as a flashing signal lit up the console. “There’s another ship coming in,” he warned.

“An Imperial ship?” Leia asked, and Ben nodded.

“A fighter.”

Two short explosions rocked the ship, and an Imperial TIE fighter screeched past the viewport, racing away from them.

Leia looked to Ben. “Did it follow us?”

He shook his head. “It’s a short-range fighter.”

“There aren’t any bases around here,” Han pointed out. “Where’d it come from?”

Leia leaned forward, watching the fighter as it zoomed into the distance. “And where’s it going?” she asked.

They had managed to get off Tatooine with few problems, and she would hate for the trouble to start now. If the Empire really had destroyed Alderaan, they probably wouldn’t be too friendly towards any unidentified ships found snooping around the system, and with the cargo they carried, it would be best to avoid any interactions with the Empire.

“I’m going after it,” Han said, increasing the Falcon’s speed as he gave chase. “Chewie, jam its transmissions. We don’t want it alerting any of its friends.” The Wookiee obeyed, flicking a series of toggles on the dash.

“It’d be just as well to let it go,” Ben said. “It’s too far out of range.”

“It’s just one fighter,” Leia argued. “We can take it.”

They quickly began gaining on the TIE fighter. Leia shifted forward, one hand gripping the back of Chewie’s chair.

“A fighter that size couldn’t get this deep into space on its own,” Ben said. “I suggest we stay vigilant.”

Han glanced at something on the dash. “There doesn’t seem to be any other ships hanging around,” he observed.

It looked as if the fighter was heading towards something. At first glance it looked like just another distant star, but as they drew closer it became larger, until it was obvious that it was some sort of small planet or moon.

“There!” Leia called, pointing out the viewport. “He’s headed for that moon! There must be a base or something there.”

Beside her Ben straightened, his eyes going wide. “That’s no moon,” he said. “It’s a space station!”

Han glanced back at him, frowning. “It’s too big to be a space station,” he said, but as he looked back towards the viewport, he paused, his frown deepening.

As they flew closer, more details became visible, and Leia realized that the spherical object they were heading for was actually made of metal — it was man-made. She settled back into her seat, not taking her eyes off the impossibly large battle station as it grew closer and closer.

“I have a very bad feeling about this,” she said.

◊◊◊

The stormtrooper armour fit Leia poorly, having been made for someone much taller and broader than she was, but it was, unfortunately, the only option she had at the moment. The Falcon was currently docked in the hangar of the large Imperial space station, held there by a tractor beam; they couldn’t escape until it was disabled, and they couldn’t do that without getting off the ship. She strapped the white plastoid armour to her limbs the best she could, though it still hung loosely and banged together awkwardly.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” she asked, looking dubiously at the white helmet she held in her hands.

“It’s gonna have to,” Han said. Of course, his own armour fit almost perfectly. “Now get that helmet on, and let’s go.”

She grimaced, but did as he said, slipping the helmet on over her head. It was almost impossible to see out of, though it fit much better than the rest of her disguise; it seemed as if the man she had stolen it from had had an unusually small head. She nodded to Han and he disappeared down the Falcon’s ramp into the hangar, followed closely by Ben, Chewbacca, R2, and 3PO. In her head, she counted slowly to ten and then stepped out after them, to find them already vanished from sight.

Glancing up at the windows of the command office, she saw the gantry officer looking down at her, a concerned expression on his face. Reaching up, she tapped the side of her helmet, as if to indicate a faulty commlink. He seemed to understand, giving her a quick nod before disappearing from sight. As soon as he was gone, Leia took off across the now-empty hangar, making her way up to the observation deck.

She rounded the corner just in time to hear Han’s blaster as he shot one of the gantry officers, and Chewbacca’s roar as he took care of the other. Running into the room, she closed the door behind her and removed her helmet, glaring at Han. “If you keep that up, you’re going to let the whole station know we’re here,” she snapped.

Han turned to face her from where he had been peering through the command office’s window. “Bring ‘em on!” he cried. “I’d prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around.”

R2 let out a little beep, drawing Leia’s attention away from the irritating pirate to the computer console on the other side of the room, where Ben and the droids were snooping around.

“We found the computer outlet, sir,” 3PO said.

Ben nodded. “Plug in. You should be able to interpret the entire Imperial network.”

R2 whistled, extending one of his utility arms and sticking it into the computer socket. He turned it this way and that, beeping in binary all the while. 3PO looked down at him, and then at the party gathered around the room.

“He says he’s found the main computer to power the tractor beam that’s holding the ship here,” he translated. “He’ll try and make the precise location appear on the monitor.” A few seconds later, a series of readouts began to flash across a nearby screen. 3PO continued, “The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in seven locations. A power loss at one of the terminals will allow the ship to leave.” The monitor paused on one of the readouts, zooming in on a flashing semi-circle. Ben stared at it a moment, then turned away.

“I don’t think you two can help,” he said, looking first to Han and then to Leia before making his way to the door. “I must go alone.”

“Whatever you say,” Han said. “I’ve done more than I bargained for on this trip already.”

Leia stopped Ben as he reached the door. “Are you sure you’ll be safe?” she asked. “Why don’t I go with you?”

“You must stay and watch over the droids,” Ben said, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You must ensure they are delivered safely, or other planets will suffer the same fate as Alderaan. Your destiny lies along a different path than mine.” He turned, pressing the button that opened the door. Before stepping out into the hallway, he looked back at her one last time. “The Force will be with you, Leia… always.”

She watched in silence as he hurried away down the corridor, before reaching out and closing the door once again. As she turned back to face the room, Chewbacca let out a strange growl, and Han nodded in agreement.

“Boy, you said it, Chewie,” he said, leaning back against the console. “Where did you dig up that old fossil?”

“Ben’s a greater man than you’ll ever be,” Leia said, walking over to stand in front of him.

“He’s certainly great at getting us into trouble,” Han grumbled.

“Oh? Did you have a better idea, then?”

“Well, anything would be better than just hanging around waiting for him to come pick us up.”

“Why you—” Leia’s insult was interrupted by R2, who had continued to search the computer network and had suddenly let out an excited stream of beeps and tones. “What is it?” she asked, looking towards the little astromech.

“I’m afraid I’m not quite sure, miss,” 3PO admitted, looking from his counterpart to her. “He says ‘I found him’, and keeps repeating ‘He’s here.’”

Leia frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Who’s he talking about?”

R2 let out a frantic response, which 3PO promptly translated as, “Prince Luke.”

“The prince?” Leia’s eyes widened. “He’s on this station? Where?”

“What are you talking about?” Han asked. “What prince?” Leia ignored him.

R2 beeped out an answer to Leia’s question. “He’s on level five, detention block AA-23,” 3PO said. R2 let out another string of sounds, a hint of concern tinging his mechanical tones, and 3PO looked back up at Leia, obviously surprised. “It appears he’s scheduled to be terminated,” he said.

“Well then we have to save him!” Leia cried.

“Whoa, hold on!” Han said, holding out his hands, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s the boy I found with the droids,” Leia explained. “He’s the whole reason we were going to Alderaan. We’ve gotta help him!”

Han shook his head. “Hey, now, you heard the old man. He wants us to wait right here.”

Leia scowled. She had saved the prince before, only for him to end up captured; she wasn’t going to let the Empire execute him. She was going to save him again, with or without Han’s help. “What happened to not wanting to just wait around?” she asked. “I thought you wanted some action.”

“Breaking into the detention area isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Han clarified.

She shook her head, grabbing her blaster from where she’d laid it down on a nearby console. “I’ll go alone, then,” she decided, giving him a disgusted look. “I was right about you — you’re nothing but a greedy, selfish mercenary.”

He seemed unbothered by her words, waving her away with a flap of his hand — but Leia had given herself an idea. Pausing near the door, she looked back over at him. “You’d be rewarded, you know,” she said and, just as she had predicated, that seemed to pique his interest. He glanced her way, one eyebrow raised, and she nodded enthusiastically, continuing, “He’s a prince, after all. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be willing to reward anyone who brought him back safe.”

Han looked at her a moment, as if weighing the decision in his mind. “You really are going to go alone if I don’t agree, aren’t you?” he asked, and Leia nodded. There was another beat of silence before he sighed, standing and grabbing his blaster from where it had been resting beside him. “Alright, I’ll help. But I better get that reward, and it better be good.”

Leia nodded again, eager for him to agree. “You’ll get it. I promise.”

Han didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me you have a plan for how we’re going to get him out,” he said.

Leia smirked. “I have an idea.”

Chapter Text

Leia stared at the map on the monitor, her forehead creased in concentration. R2 had pulled up a floorplan of the battle station, with both the detention area and the command office they were currently in highlighted. The astromech was trying to help her find the quickest way down to where the prince was being held — the fewer stormtroopers and Imperial officers they ran in to, the better. Leia still wasn’t very confident about her disguise; while there were plenty of female troopers out there, she was still several inches below regulation height, and her armour still fit terribly, both facts which could draw suspicion from anyone they passed.

“We’ll take this hallway to the turbolifts,” she said, tracing the path with her gloved finger. “It seems secluded enough. The turbolift will take us all the way down to the detention block. Once we’re down there we’ll deal with the guards.” She cast Han a pointed look. “Try to do it quietly, so we don’t let the whole station know we’re breaking into the prison.”

“I’ll try my best,” Han said, though he didn’t sound very genuine.

Leia stepped away from the computer, slinging her blaster over her shoulder and grabbing her helmet. “Then let’s go,” she said. “We gotta hurry, before someone comes looking for these guys.” She glanced at the two gantry officers still sprawled out on the office floor. Grabbing a nearby pair of binders off the console, she handed them to Han. “Put these on Chewbacca, will you?”

He scowled at her, seemingly unhappy with being ordered about, but he still took them, standing and walking over to his Wookiee first mate. Chewbacca looked apprehensively at the binders, shying away as Han approached him. “Just trust me with this, alright, buddy?” Han said and, after a moment, Chewie nodded, holding his hands out to be bound.

“Mistress Leia,” 3PO said, shuffling anxiously towards her. “Pardon me for asking, but… what should Artoo and I do if we’re discovered here?”

“Lock the door,” Leia ordered, heading towards the exit, “and if they get in, pretend to be Imperial droids.”

“And just hope they don’t have blasters,” Han added, following after Leia with Chewie in tow.

“That isn’t very reassuring,” 3PO said, and R2 whistled in agreement.

Slipping the helmet onto her head and unslinging her blaster, Leia opened the door. She lead the way out into the hallway, while Han kept a firm grip on Chewbacca’s elbow, the door sliding shut behind them. She had the path to the turbolifts mostly memorized, and made a point to look like she knew exactly where she was going. For the first little while they had the corridors all to themselves; at one point a small black mouse droid scuttled towards them, but Chewbacca roared at it and it scurried away, disappearing around a corner. It wasn’t until they began nearing the elevator bank that actual people began appearing. A pair of grey-clad Imperial officers exited a room as they passed, looking warily at the large Wookiee. They followed after them, no doubt also heading for the turbolifts, and Leia had to keep herself from speeding up to get away from them. Hopefully, they would be too distracted by Chewbacca to look too closely at her or Han.

It only became busier as the turbolifts came into sight. Leia kept up her steady pace, her back straight and her head held high, and Chewbacca did a good job of drawing all the attention to him. Stopping in front of one of the turbolifts, she pressed the button to go down. Chewbacca played the part of a disgruntled prisoner well, and everyone gave them a wide berth as they waited for their lift to arrive. She was going to shoot Han in the foot if he didn’t stop fidgeting, though.

The turbolift arrived, and they both stepped back to allow the guard inside to exit. Han lead Chewbacca in, and Leia followed; an officer made to enter with them, but Han quickly sent him away with a shake of his head and a gesture towards their supposed Wookiee prisoner. The door hissed closed, and Leia indicated the level they wanted to go to.

“This plan of yours had better work,” Han said, as the turbolift began to move. “I’d rather not end up dead or in an Imperial prison.”

“It’ll work,” Leia assured him, “as long as you do what I told you to.”

Han grumbled something under his breath too quiet for her to hear as he reached up to loosen the binders on Chewbacca’s wrists, and under her helmet, Leia rolled her eyes. They were quiet for the rest of the ride. Eventually, the lift stopped, and another set of doors opened up behind them. They turned, pulling Chewbacca out with them.

The officer at the security station looked up at their arrival; two Imperial guards stood off to the side, their faces impassive. “Where are you taking this… thing?” the officer asked, disgust apparent in his voice as he narrowed his eyes at Chewbacca.

“Prisoner transfer from block 1138,” Leia answered.

“I wasn’t notified.” The officer turned his gaze to Leia, looking her up and down, a tight frown appearing on his face. “What’s your operating number, trooper?”

Leia’s blood chilled in her veins. “Is that necessary… sir?” she asked, trying to fill her voice with confidence she didn’t feel.

“I believe it is,” the officer replied, casting a glance over his shoulder at the guards. They began to move forward, their blasters drawn, but before they could reach them Chewbacca let out an enraged roar. Freeing his hands from the binders, he swiped at the first guard, sending him flying across the room.

“Look out, he’s loose!” Han cried. “Blast him!”

The second guard began firing, aiming for Chewie, but Leia got him first, shooting the man square in the chest. Before the officer could react, Leia was firing at him, too, knocking him to the ground. She quickly began to take out the many cameras that surveyed the room, hitting them one after the other. Another officer came running down the hallway, blaster drawn, but Han shot him before he could even reach the end. The commlink on the security console began beeping frantically, and Leia took it out with one blast, silencing it. It certainly wasn’t as quiet an affair as she would have liked, but it would have to do.

Han hurried over to the console, peering at a monitor as he pressed various buttons. “Let’s find out which cell this prince of yours is in,” he said. He leaned closer, likely in an attempt to better see out of the helmet’s obtrusive visor. “Here we go: cell 2187.”

Leia nodded. “I’ll go get him,” she said. “You two stay here and watch the door. And get the uniform off this officer.” She gestured at the man laying sprawled out on the floor between them.

“Yes, ma’am.” Han’s voice was full of sarcasm, but Leia chose to ignore it, and instead hurried away down the long corridor of cells.

◊◊◊

Luke was trying to sleep when the shooting began. He had no idea what time it was — it was difficult to tell time in space, even more so when you were confined to a small, windowless cell. He only knew that he hadn’t slept since being brought aboard the Death Star, but despite the fact that he was exhausted, rest alluded him. The destruction of Alderaan kept replaying itself in his mind, like a recording stuck on repeat. It all felt like some horrible, horrible dream.

He bolted upright at the sound of blaster fire coming from down the corridor. It lasted for only a few moments, before everything fell quiet again; he thought he could hear people talking and then, very clearly, the sound of footsteps hurrying down the hallway. They seemed to pause in front of his cell, before there was another shot and the door slid open. Smoke poured in from the corridor, and a stormtrooper stepped through it into the room.

Luke tensed slightly at the sight of the white armour, but any fear he felt disappeared when the trooper reached up to remove their helmet. The girl beneath it was quite beautiful, though her face shone with sweat and her braided hair was in quite a state of disarray. She tossed the helmet onto the floor, and Luke stared at her in awe and surprise; of all the things he had expected to see walk through that door, she hadn’t been one of them.

“Do you often find yourself in need of rescuing?” she asked.

Luke’s awe turned to confusion, and he furrowed his brows at her. “What?”

“My name’s Leia Skywalker,” she said. “I’m the one who found you on Tatooine. I’m here to rescue you.”

“On Tatooine?” Luke hurried to his feet. The world swayed a bit, and his head pounded in protest, but thankfully his vision quickly righted itself. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ll explain later,” Leia said, reaching out her hand for him to take. “But we have to go. Now.”

Luke stared at her for a moment, unsure. He had no idea what this girl’s true intentions really were, but if she really was the one who had found him on Tatooine, then that meant she might have R2-D2 with her. Placing his hand in hers, he nodded. “Lead the way.”

Leia grabbed her helmet and pulled him out into the hallway. The smoke had cleared, and she let go of his hand as they ran along towards the exit. A man dressed as a stormtrooper was kneeling by the security station, pulling the pants off a dead officer while, to Luke’s seemingly never-ending surprise, a Wookiee kept watch by the lift door. It was certainly the most interesting rescue team he’d ever seen.

At the sight of them running down the hallway, the Wookiee pushed the button to call the turbolift. The man finished yanking the officer’s pants off, gathering them up in his arms, along with the dead man’s boots, shirt, and hat. Standing, he gave Leia a questioning look.

“Give ‘em to him,” she said as they reached the station, gesturing to Luke. Walking over, the man rather unceremoniously dumped the bundle of clothes into Luke’s arms. Leia continued, speaking to the man, “Grab your helmet. Let’s see if we can’t get out of here quietly.”

The man gave a doubtful snort, but still picked up his helmet from where it had been resting on the console and put it on. The turbolift arrived, and the Wookiee shuffled in, giving a quiet growl telling the others to come. Leia put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and hurried him towards the waiting lift, the man close behind them. As soon as they were inside, the doors slid shut, and Leia selected a level for it to take them to.

“Put the uniform on,” she instructed Luke, pointing to the bundle of clothes in his arms. “Quickly.” Behind her, the man was placing a set of binders on the Wookiee’s wrists — they were obviously planning on playing him off as a prisoner.

Luke began unbuttoning his shirt, moving as quickly as he could. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to be dressed as a stormtrooper?” he asked. “There are people on this station who know what I look like, and it’s not going to be long before they realize I’m gone.”

“No time for that, Your Highness,” the man said, and though his voice was modified by the helmet, Luke could hear hints of sarcasm in the way he said ‘Your Highness’. “It’s a big station. Just pull the cap down far over your face and hope we don’t run into anyone you know.”

Luke frowned, but nodded. Tossing his shirt onto the floor, he picked up the officer’s; it was relatively undamaged, despite the fact that the man had been shot. As he was buttoning it up, he began kicking off the too-tight boots he’d been given when he was brought onto the Death Star. The uniform was a bit big, but thankfully not enough to be overtly noticeable.

“So how did you find me?” Luke asked, looking to Leia as he finished buttoning up the shirt. He made quick work of his pants, switching them out for the officer’s. Though he was glad to be out of his dusty, blood-stained clothes, he wasn’t sure a dead man’s uniform was much of an improvement.

“Your little astromech found you in the station’s networks,” Leia explained. She’d already put her helmet back on, tucking her long braid up underneath it. “I have him and See-Threepio here with me. Ben Kenobi’s here, too.”  

Luke was flooded with relief at the news — not only was R2 safe, but they’d found Obi-Wan Kenobi. “Where is he?” he asked, bending down to pull on the officer’s tall, polished boots.

“Trying to free my ship,” the man replied, sounding none too pleased. “We got caught in this thing’s tractor beam.”   

“Well, hopefully he’ll have it freed soon,” Leia said. “We’ll head back to the Falcon, and let Artoo and Threepio know to meet us there. Ben will be heading that way as soon as the tractor beam’s shut off, and if we’re lucky we’ll all be able to get off this thing.”

Luke pulled the black cap on over his head just as the turbolift came to a stop and the doors slid open. Their escape plan seemed shoddy at best, and unlikely to succeed; their team was scattered all across the station, and it would take a while for them to get from the detention area to the hangars, in disguises that wouldn’t hold up under much scrutiny. And soon enough, the entire space station would be looking for them.

He didn’t much like their odds.

◊◊◊

Leia lead the way through the station, with Luke following along beside her and Han and Chewie bringing up the rear. The area around the turbolifts was still nerve-rackingly busy, with troopers, officers, and droids going in and out of lifts and travelling in every direction. Leia quickly reviewed the path they had taken to get to the elevators in her mind, trying to remember what turns they needed to take as they set off in the direction of the hangar where the Falcon still sat, trapped by the tractor beam.

She tried her best to maintain the appearance of someone who knew where they were going, mimicking the gait of the stormtroopers she had seen wandering the corridors. Thankfully, as they moved away from the lifts, the passageways they passed through were as abandoned as they had been only a short while ago, though no doubt an alarm had already been raised, alerting troops that there was an escaped prisoner somewhere on the station. But if their luck held, they would get back to the ship without any trouble.

Luke, for his part, seemed to be handling the situation much better than Leia had expected. Though he occasionally cast a nervous glance around the hallway, he carried himself with the ease of someone who was often in uncomfortable situations, and used to pretending to be something he wasn’t. She supposed he would have to be, being a member of the Rebellion. Still, he looked out of place in the black Imperial uniform, and more than a little overwhelmed — though perhaps that was more due to the concussion he was no doubt still suffering from.

Rounding a corner, only a short distance from the command office, Leia had to take a quick step back to avoid being run over by a group of around half a dozen stormtroopers charging down the corridor, their blasters drawn. Thankfully, they didn’t pay them any attention, too intent on reaching their destination. Beside her, Luke let out a small sigh of relief as the troopers disappeared down the hallway. Unfortunately, however, neither of them noticed the officer hurrying along after the troops until they had already turned the corner.

At the sight of them, the man slowed, and held up a hand signalling for them to stop. Leia cursed to herself in her head, but did as he ordered; if they played this just right, they might be able to get away.

“Where are you taking this prisoner?” the officer asked, glancing at Chewbacca, who let out a low, apprehensive growl. Leia didn’t know anything about the insignias of the Imperial Military, so she had no idea what rank the man held, but he had more squares on his plaque than Luke, likely meaning he held a higher position — and meaning that intimidating him probably wouldn’t work.

“He’s to be transferred to Cherridan Imperial Labour Camp, sir,” Luke replied, straightening and folding his arms together behind his back.

The officer gave him a skeptical look. “You are aware that the entire station is on high-level alert, are you not?” he asked. “All prisoners should be secured.”

“No, sir, I was not aware of that.” Just a hint of nervousness tinged Luke’s voice as he spoke. “We will return the prisoner to his cell immediately.”

Luke turned to leave, but the officer held up a hand again, stopping him. “What is your name, Lieutenant?” he asked, pulling out a datapad and quickly unlocking it.

Luke shuffled a bit, his hands twisting together behind his back. “Rannek Pavish, sir,” he lied.

The officer began typing into his datapad, no doubt searching for any mention of a Rannek Pavish in the databases. Leia figured that, unless Luke somehow knew the name of an actual lieutenant serving on the Death Star, they had only a few seconds before the officer realized he was lying. She readjusted her grip on her blaster, her finger hovering over the trigger, ready to fire at any moment.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizingly long time, the officer looked up. “I have no records of any—” Before Leia could even have her blaster aimed, a bolt was zooming past her, hitting the officer square in the chest. He toppled to the ground, dead, and Luke and Leia jumped apart in surprise. Glancing back, Leia saw Han standing there with his finger still on the trigger of his rifle.

“You could have shot us!” she cried.

“I was being careful,” Han replied, and Leia rolled her eyes.

“We better be ready,” she said. “No doubt someone heard the shot.”

As if summoned by her words, a stormtrooper came running from the direction of the command office. At the sight of the dead officer, he raised his blaster, aiming it at them. “Hey!” he called. “What’s going on here?”

Leia’s response was to blast him. It took two shots to get through the plastoid armour, and once he was down she hurried over, grabbing his blaster and tossing it to Luke. “You know how to use one, right?” she asked.

He nodded. “Of course I do.”

Han began undoing Chewie’s bindings and, once he was free, handed him his rifle, pulling a pistol out of a holster for himself. Once they were all armed, Leia began moving down the hallway, motioning for them to follow. “Let’s hurry,” she said. “Hopefully Artoo and Threepio are still in the office.”

They met no more resistance on their way to the command office. Unfortunately, however, the door to the room was open, and there was no sign of R2 or 3PO. Stepping inside, Leia pulled off her helmet and dug out her commlink transmitter; she had left the other one with 3PO.

“Threepio!” she called, holding the transmitter to her mouth. “Threepio! Where are you?”

“Mistress Leia?” 3PO’s astonished voice sounded through the commlink. “Thank heavens you’re alright! I was so worried. The entire station is on high alert, and I have no doubt it’s you they’re looking for.”

“Yes, I know, Threepio. But where are you and Artoo? We’re back at the command office and you’re not here.”

“Some troopers came by a short while after you were gone,” 3PO explained, “but we managed to get away. We’re down by the Millennium Falcon. Did you manage to find the prince?”

“Yes, we have him,” Leia replied. “We’ll be right down.”

“Oh, wonderful!”

Putting the commlink away again, Leia hurried over to where Luke, Han, and Chewie stood, staring through a window down into the hangar.

“Is that your ship?” Luke asked as Leia approached, pointing through the window to the Falcon. Leia nodded, and his expression became one of shock and worry. “What a piece of junk…” he muttered

“Hey!” Han, who had also removed his helmet, gave Luke an indignant look. “She’ll go point five past light speed, you know! Faster than any—”

“Yes, yes, we know,” Leia snapped, cutting him off before he could continue. “Come on, we’d better get out of here. Artoo and Threepio are waiting for us by the Falcon.”

Han grumbled something inaudible under his breath, but he still followed after Leia as she lead the way out of the office and down the hallway, towards where the Falcon sat waiting for them.  

Chapter Text

They hurried through the hallways, blasters drawn and ready to fire. It wasn’t far from the command office to the hangar, and they had opted for speed over stealth; the Wookiee’s wrists remained unbound, and both Leia and her roguish friend had left their helmets behind. They needed to reach R2 and 3PO before someone discovered the droids and, in any case, there would be no option for stealth once they arrived in the hangar — there had been at least six stormtroopers milling about the Millennium Falcon when Luke had looked down on the ship from the office windows. He didn’t doubt that they had been put there by Tarkin to stop them reaching the ship and escaping, and they would have to be dealt with quickly and decisively. They certainly wouldn’t be able to sneak past them and take off.

Luke knew the Empire — he knew that they wouldn’t let such a high-level prisoner as him just walk away. Leia, for all her leadership and skill with a weapon, seemed blissfully unaware of how the regime truly operated. He doubted she had had much — if any — interaction with Imperials before. And he was quite certain that her friend and his Wookiee companion were actual criminals; smugglers, he guessed, or pirates of some sort. All in all, they were not the team he would have chosen to sneak onto the Death Star and rescue him, though he had to admit, they certainly didn’t lack courage (although one could argue that what they possessed instead were copious amounts of stupidity and recklessness).

Still, they were the ones who had rescued him, and they were his best — and only — shot of getting off the Death Star alive. So he would follow them, wherever their stupidity and recklessness took him.

The smuggler was the one currently leading the way. He had introduced himself back in the command office as Han Solo, and Luke had the impression that, despite working together, he and Leia didn’t particularly like each other — another reason why this plan was likely to fall apart at any minute.

Han had them moving along at a fairly quick pace, hoping to get down to the ship as soon as possible. The route he took them on was rather straightforward, just a hallway and a set of stairs away from the hangar, and if they were fast enough they might be able to avoid detection before they reached it. Then, of course, they would have to deal with the troopers guarding the Millennium Falcon, but Luke supposed they would cross that bridge when they got to it, unless one of them came up with a plan before then.

Luke’s hopes of avoiding detection were thoroughly dashed, however, when they sped around a turn in the hallway and ended up nearly colliding with a group of over a dozen stormtroopers. He stumbled back a few feet, surprised, but the troopers recovered from their shock remarkably quick. The one at the very front raised a hand, pointing at them. “It’s them!” he cried. “Blast them!”

Before any of the stormtroopers could react, however, Han had raised his own blaster and was firing on the one who had spoken. The man fell back, a smoking hole burnt into his white armour, and without hesitating even a moment Han charged the rest of them, brandishing his weapon like a madman. The stormtroopers bolted, and as Han gave chase, he yelled, “Get back to the ship!”

“Where are you going?” Leia called, but Han had already disappeared around a corner. Giving a quiet, concerned growl, the Wookiee took off after his friend, and Leia watched him go, letting out an annoyed scoff.

“Come on,” Luke said, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back. “Let’s keep going.”

Leia scowled but nodded, and started off in the opposite direction. “This way.”  

She took them down a long, twisting corridor. They were running, but it wasn’t long before they heard the sound of pounding feet coming after them. At first Luke thought that it might be Han and the Wookiee, but he quickly realized the sound was coming from far more than two people. Leia cursed quietly, then reached out and grabbed his arm, dragging him into a small, narrow hallway that branched off from the main corridor. They both shuffled away from the entrance, pressing themselves up against the wall, hiding in the shadows; Luke barely dared to breathe as the footsteps grew closer and closer.

The stormtroopers ran right past the hallway, barely even seeming to notice it was there. Luke stared after them as they disappeared, his heart thundering in his chest and his eyes wide. If they had been caught, that likely would have been the end for both of them.  

Leia reached over and tugged on his sleeve, bringing his attention back to her. “Let’s go,” she whispered, and motioned with her head further down the narrow hallway, to where it ended in a small descending staircase. He followed her to it, and they both scurried down, pausing at the bottom. Leia peeked around the corner, and Luke shuffled forward a bit, peering over her head.  

It led out into the hangar, to the area just in front of the magnetic field that kept the atmosphere from rushing out into the vacuum of space. There were no other ships in sight besides the Falcon, and the only other people in the hangar seemed to be the stormtroopers lingering around the pirate ship.

“I don’t see the droids, or Han and Chewie,” Leia said, speaking quietly so that they wouldn’t be overheard, even though they were on the other side of the hangar from the troopers. “Blast. I should have held on to my helmet. We might have been able to sneak around and see what’s what.”

“I still have all of my uniform,” Luke pointed out. “I might be able to go and order them to leave, or at least find a way to get past them.”

Leia hummed, as if considering it. Suddenly, however, a beam of yellow light flashed from the hallway at the end of the hangar, joined by what almost sounded like a zap of electricity. Two duelling figures appeared, and in their hands they wielded glowing blades — one red, and the other pale blue. As they watched, the blades struck together, and there was another bright flash of yellow. Though he had never seen one in person before, Luke knew what the weapons were: lightsabers, the weapons of the Jedi.

“Look!” Leia said, pointing towards the hallway.

“Is that General Kenobi?” he asked, leaning forward to try and get a better look. The stormtroopers, too, seemed distracted by the fight, and they hurried towards the hallway, leaving the Falcon unguarded. Luke gripped Leia’s shoulder, urging her forward. “Now’s our chance! Let’s go!”

They ran out into the hangar, hurrying across the polished black floor to where the Falcon was docked. At the same time, R2 and 3PO appeared from behind a pile of crates, and Han and the Wookiee ran in from another hallway. They all made a beeline for the ship’s lowered ramp, hoping to get in while the stormtroopers were distracted, but Leia slowed when she reached the Falcon, her gaze focused on Obi-Wan Kenobi and the duel.

The old Jedi was fighting Darth Vader, whose crimson blade contrasted sharply with his black suit. Kenobi was surrounded, with Vader on one side and the stormtroopers on the other, and Luke couldn’t see any way for him to escape. He paused at the bottom of the ramp with Han, watching and barely daring to breathe. Kenobi glanced their way, seeming to focus first on Leia and then, for the briefest of seconds, on Han and Luke. A small, almost knowing, smirk played on his lips and, raising his ‘saber in front of his face, he closed his eyes and took a step back.

Luke heard Leia’s sharp intake of breath as Vader swung, striking Kenobi hard in the side. However, the old man did not fall; rather, he simply disappeared, as if he had been turned to air. All that remained of him that Luke could see was his brown robe, lying in a heap on the floor.

“Ben!” Leia cried, and Luke could almost feel her horror. The stormtroopers whirled around to face them, and immediately opened fire. Without hesitating, Leia began blasting them, and Han quickly joined in. Within seconds the hangar was a maelstrom of smoke and blaster fire. R2 and 3PO quickly began moving up the ramp to avoid being shot, and Luke watched while Leia picked off one stormtrooper after another. In the background, he could see Vader curiously poking at Kenobi’s robe with his foot — it seemed as if the Jedi truly had disappeared.

“Leia!” he called. “Leia! It’s too late! We need to go!” She didn’t seem to hear him, though; all her attention was focused on blasting the stormtroopers.

“He’s right, sweetheart!” Han yelled, ceasing his fire and slowly moving up the ramp, pushing Luke along ahead of him. “We gotta go!” In the hallway, Vader had turned his attention to them; his ignited lightsaber was still gripped in his hand, as menacing as the rest of him. As he began moving towards them, Han cried to Leia, “Blast the door! Blast the door!”

Leia, finally seeming to realize that the situation was hopeless, fired a single shot at the hallway door’s control mechanism, and it quickly slid shut, separating them from Vader. She stared at it for just a moment, then fired a few more shots at the stormtroopers, while Luke and Han ran the rest of the way up the ramp and into the ship; glancing back, Luke was relieved to see that Leia was not far behind them.

The ramp closed after her, and only seconds later, the ship was lifting off and soaring through the magnetic field, out into the vastness of space.

◊◊◊

Leia sat in the Falcon’s cockpit, watching the blue tunnel of hyperspace swirling in front of her. They had left the Death Star far behind, managing to escape only after a brief firefight with some TIE fighters. Both her and Han’s stormtrooper uniforms sat discarded in a corner of the main hold, and Leia was quite glad to be out of the stuffy plastoid. Han had lent Luke some of his clothes, though the prince looked just as out of place in the lightweight shirt and leather jacket as he had in the black Imperial uniform.

Both Han and Luke were currently elsewhere in the ship, and the only other person in the cockpit with her was Chewbacca. They sat in silence, for the most part, but Leia didn’t mind — it gave her a chance to finally sit and think. She was still reeling from Ben’s sudden and unexpected death, and everything else that had happened in the past few days — from finding Luke and the droids, to receiving her father’s lightsaber, to her aunt and uncle’s deaths. More had happened to her in the last two days than she had ever thought possible, and if someone had told her only a week ago that she would save a prince off a planet-destroying Imperial space station, she would have laughed and told them that they’d had one too many drinks.  

Something began beeping on the console, pulling Leia out of her thoughts, and Chewie reached over to flip a switch, silencing it. He barked something into his headset, and Leia could just barely hear Han’s response of “I’ll be right there.” She shifted, leaning forward so she could better see out of the viewport.

“Are we coming up on the system?” she asked, and Chewie nodded. Luke had given them the coordinates of a system in the Outer Rim where he said the Rebels had their secret base, though he was certain that the Falcon was being tracked. Leia figured he planned to lure the Death Star to the Rebellion, where they could use the plans that he had given R2 to find some sort of weakness and take it down, before it destroyed any more planets.

Han came into the cockpit, brushing past Leia and settling down into the pilot’s seat. She watched as he and Chewie slowly brought them out of hyperspace, and the mass of blue was replaced by stars and a ginormous red planet, its surface covered with swirling orange clouds. According to Luke, the planet was called Yavin, and the Rebel base was secreted away on one of its dozens of moons.

As Han was bringing them into orbit around the planet, Luke entered the cockpit, taking the seat beside Leia. “I’ve alerted the Alliance,” he said. “They’re expecting our arrival.” He looked to Han. “You have the coordinates for Yavin IV?”

Han nodded. “We’ll be making our approach soon.”  

“Good. I’ll direct you where to go once we enter the atmosphere.”

Slowly, they circled their way around the gas giant. Leia counted the moons that they passed, most of them little more than large asteroids. It was a wonder they didn’t all collide with each other mid-orbit, there were so many; she counted nearly ten in the time it took them to reach Yavin IV. Unlike the others, the rebel moon was covered in green — it was easily the greenest thing Leia had ever seen in her life, interspersed with dots of blue that she guessed were bodies of water. It looked so much like the planets that she had seen on the HoloNet, the ones she had fantasized about living on, that her breath almost caught in her throat.

Luke told Han where to go as they made their descent into the atmosphere, the black of space slowly fading away into gorgeous, cloud-spotted blue. Their destination seemed to a small grouping of tall, temple-like structures rising out of the surrounding jungle. Leia had to resist the urge to stand and press her face to the viewport, eager for her first-ever glimpse of actual trees.  

Most of the activity seemed to be based around the largest of the two temples, and that’s the one that Luke directed them to. A tarmac was laid out in front of the temple, on which dozens of ships of all different types were docked. Han brought the Millennium Falcon down in a more secluded corner of the shipyard, where Leia could see about a half dozen soldiers waiting for them with landspeeders.

Luke was the first one off the ship, with Leia and the droids shuffling down after him. He greeted the soldiers, asking them about a Commander Willard, but Leia didn’t listen to their response — she was far too busy marvelling at the world around her. There were trees nearly everywhere she looked, and the undergrowth of the forest was thick with ferns and vines. She could hear the calls and sounds of animals scurrying through the brush, while groups of birds circled above the trees. It was hot, though not nearly as hot as Tatooine, and the air was so thick with humidity that she almost found it hard to breathe. The vaporators could have sucked as much moisture from this air in an hour as they did in a week on Tatooine.

Han and Chewie arrived on the tarmac, and they began loading everyone into two landspeeders. Leia supposed she must have had a rather overwhelmed look on her face, because, while they were waiting for R2 to be lifted onto one of the speeders, Luke walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle and quiet. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” Leia nodded. “I’ve just… never seen anything like this before.”

Luke smiled, and it was so warm and kind that Leia felt herself smile back. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, looking to the temple, and the mist-covered jungle that lay beyond it.

“You people certainly picked a scenic spot for your hideaway,” she agreed.

Luke laughed, and then it was their turn to climb aboard the speeder. He sat down beside her, and the warm smile stayed on his face most of the way into the temple.

◊◊◊

Luke stood at the front of the briefing room with General Dodonna, watching as the orange-suited pilots shuffled out into the corridor. Dodonna had just finished outlining the plan of attack against the Death Star, and more than a few of the fighter pilots looked uncertain, muttering quietly amongst themselves as they filed out of the room. Luke didn’t blame them — they were up against incredible odds, and many of them likely wouldn’t make it back. But he knew they would be successful; they had no other choice.

When most of the pilots were gone, Dodonna turned to him, a small wrinkle between his eyes. “I suppose you plan on joining them, Your Highness?” he asked.

Luke felt almost as if he had been caught in a lie, and he worried for a moment that Dodonna would refuse to allow him to go. “Yes,” he answered truthfully. “I would like to.” Ever since he had learned to fly, Luke had wanted to fly for the Rebellion. He had flown missions before, of course, but always in shuttles or passenger ships; never in fighters. It was an idea that his father had never been particularly enthusiastic about, but it was something Luke felt he needed to do — especially now.

“There isn’t much I could say to change your mind, is there?”

He shook his head. “No. There isn’t.” They were silent for a moment, and Dodonna sighed; Luke could see the worry etched onto the old man’s face. “The girl who rescued me,” he continued. “She’s a good shot, but she doesn’t have any experience piloting a fighter. I could take her out in one of our Y-wings — we have a few from the Clone Wars that are fit for duty.”

Dodonna seemed to hesitate, a tight frown pulling at his lips.

“We need all the help we can get,” Luke implored. “And I think she can help us. So can I.”

Dodonna gave him a pointed a look. “We cannot lose you, Prince Luke,” he said. “Not so soon after we have lost your father.”

The words stabbed at Luke’s heart. He had buried all his grief regarding the destruction of his homeworld and the deaths of his parents deep down, determined to stay focused on the task at hand. There would be time to mourn when the Death Star was dealt with and its threat neutralized — when there was no risk of other planet suffering the same fate as Alderaan. But there was no time now.

“I promise I’ll come back,” Luke said. “But I can’t just stay here while others risk their lives for this cause. Not anymore.” He was a good pilot, and the Rebellion needed every good pilot it had for this battle. He would be of much more use out there than he would be standing around a holotable.

“I hope, at least, that you have been cleared by a medic?” Dodonna asked, casting a concerned look at the wound on Luke’s forehead.

“Of course.” Luke had been shuffled off to the med bay as soon as they had arrived in the temple. A new bacta patch had been applied to the cut on his forehead, though not even that would prevent it from scarring now, and a med droid had performed a rather thorough scan of his head. Thankfully, nothing had been permanently damaged by the crash, and most of the side effects had by now faded away. The medic had cleared him for duty, if not somewhat tentatively, warning him to simply be mindful.

After another long pause, Dodonna nodded. “I understand why you want to do this,” he said.

“Thank you, General.” Luke reached out, clasping Dodonna’s hand in his, and then turned to leave, intent on finding Leia and getting them a fighter. Just as he was about to step through the door, Dodonna called out after him.

“Be safe, Your Highness,” he said, “and may the Force be with you.”

◊◊◊

The hangar was bustling with activity when Leia stepped inside, wearing a bright orange flight suit and with a helmet tucked under her arm. R2 rolled in behind her, while 3PO shuffled on ahead; somewhere out there amongst the maze of ships and technicians, Luke was waiting for her with a Y-wing. She tried not to feel too excited at the prospect of flying a mission with the Rebellion — this was a battle, after all, and a dangerous one at that.

Han and Chewie stood near the entrance to the hangar, stacking cases of money onto a speeder. So, he had gotten his reward, and it seemed like he was just going to take it and run. Scowling, Leia walked up to him. “You’re leaving, then,” she said, making no effort to hide the contempt she felt. “Now that you’ve got your money.”

“That’s right, yeah,” Han said. “I got some old debts I need to pay off with this stuff, and even if I didn’t, I’m not fool enough to stick around here.” He hefted one of the cases, placing it on the speeder, and then turned back around to face her. “You could come with us, you know. You’re pretty good in a fight. I could use you.”

Leia almost scoffed. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Look around, Han! You know what these people are up against. They could use a good pilot, and you’re turning your back on them!”

“Hey, listen, sweetheart—”

Leia lifted a hand, stopping him, and angrily jabbed a finger in his chest. “Call me sweetheart one more time, and I’ll break your nose.”

Han took a step back. “Listen, a reward’s no good if you’re dead,” he said with a shake of his head. “Besides, attacking that battle station ain’t my idea of courage. It’s more like suicide.”

Leia glared at him for a moment, and then sighed, shaking her head. “I should have known not to expect anything more from you,” she said. “You’re nothing but a selfish pirate, and a coward at that.” She turned to walk away, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride, at least.” She began to stride away, trying to keep herself from grinding her teeth together in anger. What a greedy, stuck-up, no good—

“Hey, Leia,” Han called after her, and she stopped, looking back at him. “May the Force be with you.”

He actually sounded genuine as he said it, and Leia stared at him for a while, before letting out a deep breath and heading off toward the ships. Behind her, she heard Chewie let out an inquisitive growl, and Han say angrily, “What’re you looking at? I know what I’m doing.”

She wondered for a moment if he really did, but then decided not to worry about it. There wasn’t anything she could do about Han — he had to figure things out for himself. It had been foolish of her to think he might act any differently, and she wouldn’t dwell on it. There were bigger things she had to focus on.

The hangar was like a maze. Everywhere she looked there was a starfighter, whether it be a Y-wing bomber or a sleek X-wing. As many as three or four mechanics could be seen around a single ship, working tirelessly to ensure they were all ready for when they had to leave. Pilots hurried about with droids on their heels, and voices were continually speaking over the intercom, giving orders to pilots and ground crew alike. Luke had told her where to go, but in all the commotion, it was all too easy to become lost in the unfamiliar surroundings.

She was just about to stop and ask R2 if he knew where they had to be when she felt someone suddenly grab her by the shoulder. She turned, expecting to see Luke, but instead found herself looking at Biggs Darklighter, the same wide grin spread across his face as he always wore.

“If it isn’t Leia Skywalker!” he cried. “I don’t believe it! Of all the people… How’d you end up here?” He eyed her orange flight suit. “Are you going out with us?”

Leia grinned. “You know me, Darklighter,” she said. “I can’t stay out of the action.” Biggs had told her he was planning on joining the Rebellion, the last time she had seen him on Tatooine, but she hadn’t even thought to expect seeing him here. Now that he was here, however, he brought with him such a welcome sense of familiarity that she almost — almost — began to feel homesick. Not particularly for the place, but for the people — for her friends, and for her aunt and uncle.

“Since when do you know how to fly a starfighter?” Biggs asked, a teasing but skeptical look on his face. “From what I remember, you could barely fly a T-16.”

“Well, then your memory’s failing you, because I flew better than you some days,” she said. “But still, I’m not the one flying the ship. Luke’s taking me out in a Y-wing as a gunner.”

Biggs’s eyebrows shot up. “Luke? Do you mean Prince Luke?”

Leia’s grin widened, and she nodded. “I’ve got some stories for you when this is all over,” she said.

“I’m looking forward to hearing them.” Biggs glanced around for a moment, before his hand settled on her shoulder once more. “Alright, I’ve gotta get aboard. But I’ll find you as soon as we’re back. You stay safe up there, alright?”

“You too, Darklighter.” She nodded, and he patted her twice on the shoulder before turning and heading towards his ship. She watched him go for a moment, still smiling, and as he disappeared behind an X-wing, she heard someone begin calling her name. Spinning around, she saw Luke running towards her, dressed in the same flight suit as the other pilots. It seemed to suit him much better than the leather jacket Han had lent him, and, strangely, even better than the princely white outfit she had first found him in.

“There you are!” he cried. “Where have you been? The ship’s over this way.” He motioned for her to follow him, and she did, R2 trundling along beside her.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I ran into an old friend. Is everything ready?”

Luke nodded. “Just about.” They weren’t far from the ship, and it didn’t take them long to reach it. A technician was just unhooking the coupling hose when they arrived, and the canopy was already open, ladders poised to allow them to climb inside. A domed turret sat just behind the canopy, and behind that was a socket for an astromech droid. It was certainly an older model, but it was no more beat-up than the slightly newer Y-wings she had seen around the hangar. Like the rest of them, much of the hull plating had been stripped away, leaving the support pylons exposed and making it much more lightweight — if not more easily damaged.

3PO was already there waiting, and R2 rolled over to him, ready to be loaded up onto the ship. The technician brought down the large mechanized magnet that would be used to lift the astromech up into the socket, and began attaching it to R2’s head.

“She’s old, but she’ll work well enough,” Luke said, just as another pilot approached them. Leia thought she recognized him from the briefing, and vaguely remembered him being introduced as the leader of one of the Alliance’s fighter squadrons.

“Your Highness,” he greeted, giving Luke a brief nod before looking to Leia. “You Skywalker?” he asked.

She nodded. Someone had said his name at some point during the briefing, but she couldn’t remember what it was — something that began with a J, she thought.

“Do you have much experience as a gunner?” the man asked.

“Commander,” Luke said, “I’ve seen Leia in action. She’s at least five times more accurate with a blaster than a stormtrooper. You don’t have to worry about her skill.”

The commander looked from him to Leia, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. “Well alright, then,” he said, nodding. “I think you’ll do okay.”

Leia smiled. “I’ll try my best, sir.”

With a final nod by way of farewell, the man walked off, no doubt to climb aboard his own ship. By now, R2 was loaded into the socket, swiveling his head almost curiously while 3PO tittered about on the ground, yelling at him to be careful. With a confident smile on his face, Luke stepped away from the ladder, gesturing her towards it.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Taking in a deep breath, Leia nodded. She tried again to push away some of the excitement that she felt; so many people were probably going to die today. She might even be one of them. But at that moment, standing beside Luke, she felt like she could take on anything. Pulling her helmet on over her head, she stepped up onto the ladder. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

R2 gave what sounded almost like a reassuring beep as Leia climbed up into the turret. The dome gave her a completely unobstructed view of everything around the ship, and she gave R2 a wide smile as she pulled the restraining straps across her chest. Luke climbed in after her, and a technician passed him his helmet before hurrying away, bringing the ladder with him. As the canopy lowered over Luke, Leia could hear him speaking to her over the commlinks in their helmets.

“Leia, do you copy?” he asked.

“I copy,” she replied.

Another voice came on over the commlink; she recognized it as belonging to the commander whom she and Luke had just spoken to. “Gold Squadron, this is Gold Leader,” he said. “All wings begin take-off procedure.”

Technicians and mechanics scrambled to get out of the way of the ships, while signalmen with red lights stepped in to guide the fighters to their take-off zones. As Luke began the start-up sequence for the engine, Leia quickly went over her own controls. It all seemed simple enough, and rather similar to the controls for the guns on the Millennium Falcon. She could aim the back two guns, which would be useful for getting rid of any pursuers, while there was a targeting computer for the front guns; after that, all she had to do was press the trigger to fire.

The Y-wing’s engines flared to life, and Luke began moving the ship into position. Around them, other Y-wings began doing the same. Once they were all positioned, Gold Leader gave the order for take-off, and Luke slowly pulled back on the toggle, lifting the ship up into the air. As they moved towards the exit of the hangar, Leia heard Ben’s voice resounding in her ears — not as a memory, but as if he was right there beside her, speaking to her.

Leia, he said, the Force will be with you.

She looked around for a moment, confused, but there was no one else there, and no sign that anyone else had heard it.

Chapter Text

Yavin hung outside the cockpit viewport, the colour of a sun in the middle of setting, while behind them, the planet’s jungle moon slowly disappeared. About thirty fighters had set out for the Death Star — most were X-wings, much faster and sleeker than the Y-wings, though what the bombers lacked in speed they made up for with firepower. Still, in this mission, it was not firepower that would prove most important, but accuracy. The target they had to hit was a thermal exhaust port which led straight to the Death Star’s main reactor — an exhaust port which, according to the plans Luke had retrieved, was no more than two metres wide. Leia tried not to let that discourage her. Womp rats weren’t much bigger than two metres, and she had nailed quite a few of those back home, in both a T-16 skyhopper and with her blaster. And, unlike the womp rats, the exhaust port wouldn’t be a moving target.

In the distance, the Death Star loomed like a metallic moon, steadily growing larger as they made their approach. Like Luke had predicted, it had tracked the Falcon to Yavin IV, and now orbited the gas giant with the intent of destroying the Rebel moon. In all honesty, Leia didn’t know if thirty fighters were up to the task of attacking such a large and calamitous battle station — it had the power to destroy entire planets, after all. Perhaps if their numbers were doubled, or even tripled, they might have a chance, but as it stood, Leia was doubtful that most of these pilots would make it out alive.

“All wings report in.” Gold Leader’s voice crackled over the comm, followed by a string of responses.

“Gold Five standing by.”

“Gold Two standing by.”

“Gold Three standing by.”

Luke’s voice joined the list-off of call signals. “Gold Four standing by.”

The Death Star grew closer, lights now visible glittering on its surface. Though she had already seen it before, Leia still found herself overwhelmed by the sheer size of the station. The Empire must have taken years to build it, hiding it away so it couldn’t be found, their ultimate weapon. She felt even more dwarfed by the giant fortress in a starfighter than she had in the Falcon. Almost instinctively, her hands wrapped around the gun controls; in addition to the four ion cannons, she also had control of two proton torpedo launchers, which is what she would fire at the thermal exhaust port.

“We’re passing through their magnetic field,” Gold Leader said. “Hold steady!”

The ship began to shake violently, jostling Leia from side to side, and Luke tightened his grip on the control stick.

Gold Leader continued, “Switch your deflectors on. Double front!”

Luke flipped some toggles on the dash. Up ahead, the twenty or so X-wings moved forward in formation, their wings unfolding into the attack position. The squadron of Y-wings brought up the rear, but as they grew closer to the imposing battle station, Gold Leader began to pull ahead.

“Gold Two, Gold Five, stay with me,” Gold Leader ordered. “We’ll move into position for the attack run. The rest of you, hang back.” The three Y-wings broke away from the rest of the squadron, pulling up alongside the leading X-wings.

The fighters spun as they dove towards the surface of the Death Star. They were met by a volley of fire from heavy artillery, but they avoided it easily, and the green bolts streaked off into space. Gold Leader peeled away from the group, followed by Gold Two and Gold Five, headed for the trench that held the thermal exhaust port. The remaining Y-wings flew after the X-wings, aiding in the effort to keep attention away from the three bombers.

One of the X-wings began firing on the Death Star’s surface, its red bolts exploding on impact. They seemed to do little damage, but that didn’t stop the X-wings; they began pummeling the battle station with blaster fire, hoping to do as much damage as they could. The Y-wings quickly followed suit, and as Luke dove in close to the surface, Leia pulled the trigger on her controls, letting out a stream of laserfire from the front ion cannons. Several radar emplacements burst apart, and as Luke streaked away, fire from a turbolaser followed after them. He was able to avoid it, directing the ship one way and then spinning to go the other, quickly flying out of the laser’s range. The Y-wings certainly weren’t as maneuverable as the X-wings, but the blackened marks now marring the Death Star could certainly attest to their firepower.

Once they were free of the turbolaser, Luke began bringing them back around for another run. Leia couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face as the glittering surface of the Death Star streaked past her viewport, blurring into a mass of grey pinpricked by light. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, and her hands were slick with sweat beneath her gloves, but she could feel exhilaration pumping through her veins like blood.

In the distance, the sight of a bright explosion drew Leia’s attention. It had occurred above the surface of the Death Star — one of their fighters, then. They were moving too fast for her to see whether it had been an X-wing or a Y-wing, and she wondered briefly who it had been. She felt a spike of fear pierce her heart; that could have been her, could still be her, blown apart by vicious laserfire. All it would take was one accurately aimed cannon, and reflexes not quite fast enough to avoid it.

A voice sounding in her ear, pulling her from her reverie. It came not from her headset, but from somewhere else, for only her to hear.

Leia, trust your feelings. It was Ben’s voice — she knew it was him as sure as she knew her own name, though it shouldn’t have been possible. He was dead; she had watched him die, struck down by Darth Vader aboard the very battle station she was now attacking. There was no way for him to be talking to her now.

Another voice sounded, and this time it came through her comm. “Squad leaders, we’ve picked up a new group of signals. Enemy fighters coming your way.”

Luke peered through the viewport, glancing over his shoulder to try and see if anything was behind the ship. “My scope’s negative,” he said. “I don’t see anything.”

Leia forced away thoughts of Ben, pushing herself back into the thick of the battle. She turned her chair around so that it was facing the rear, wondering if she might be able to see something that Luke couldn’t. The Imperial fighters were likely jamming the Rebel ships from picking up their signals; they’d have to rely on visuals to track them. It did not take Leia long to spot them — it was a group of about six TIE fighters, their course set on the Rebel starfighters.

“There they are,” she said, and readied the rear-facing cannons.

Almost immediately the TIEs broke apart, each going after a different fighter. One X-wing was brought down in a matter of seconds, blown apart by a streak of green laserfire. Another was trapped in hot pursuit, unable to shake the TIE chasing it no matter which way they swerved. Luke immediately banked towards them, and Leia swiveled her chair back towards the front, grabbing the controls for the larger front-facing cannons.

“Think you can take this guy out, Leia?” Luke asked.

A small grin appeared on her face. “You bet I can,” she replied. She focused her gaze on her targeting computer as Luke maneuvered the Y-wing into position. The TIE fighter began firing on the X-wing, but the pilot was skilled enough to avoid the bolts, continuing their zig-zag pattern of evasion. Finally, the TIE was lined up almost perfectly within the centre circle of the targeting computer, and without a moment’s hesitation, Leia fired. The red bolts soared through space and struck the Imperial fighter, blasting it apart almost immediately. “There we go!” she cried.

A familiar voice came on over her headset. “Thanks for that!”

Leia’s grin widened. “No problem, Darklighter,” she said. “Someone’s gotta save your skin.”

Biggs brought his X-wing back around, no doubt preparing for another run against the Death Star. “Watch your back!” he warned. “There’s a fighter above you, coming in!”

Leia spun her chair back towards the rear as Luke banked hard, bringing them up and away from the battle station’s surface. The TIE fighter was close, and moving in quickly. As Leia’s hands settled on the rear cannon controls, it let out a volley of laserfire, which Leia returned in earnest. She didn’t even need to tell Luke which way to fly; it was as if he knew instinctively where they needed to be for her to strike the TIE fighter. The rear cannons were small and didn’t deal enough damage to destroy the fighter completely, but it was enough to keep them at a distance.

“I can’t shake this guy,” Luke said, just a hint of panic in his voice.

It was a woman who replied. “I’m on my way, Gold Four.” Within seconds, another Y-wing was swooping down on their pursuer, and she was soon joined by Biggs; together, they let out a deluge of laserfire, making quick work of the TIE fighter.

“Nice shooting, Evaan!” Biggs commended.

The TIE now dealt with, the three ships peeled away from each other to continue their barrage of the Death Star. Just as she didn’t need to tell Luke where to fly, Luke didn’t need to tell her when to shoot. He picked the target and she fired on it, with no words passing between them. They worked like a team that had known each other for years. It was as if they had been made to fly together — one pilot, split into two.

Just as Luke was pulling back to carry out another run, Gold Leader’s voice crackled through the commlink.

“Red Leader, this is Gold Leader. We’re starting our attack run.”

Luke and Leia were too far away to see the trench where three members of their squadron would be performing their run, but they still listened with bated breath as they continued their own attacks.

“I copy, Gold Leader,” Red Leader replied. “Move into position.”

“The exhaust port is marked and locked in.”

The surface of the Death Star rushed in front of Leia’s vision, and Luke pointed the Y-wing towards a gun tower spitting green laserfire. Leia opened fire, immediately blowing apart half the tower and incapacitating one of the cannons. Luke pulled up quickly, pushing Leia back into her seat, and she grinned as they flipped over and spun, going back for another round.

Gold Leader went on, “Switch all power to front deflector shields. Switch all power to front deflector shields.”

Leia listened intently to every word he said, hoping for any clues as to how their run was progressing. It could all be over in just a few short minutes — they just had to keep going, and keep attacking.

“How many guns do you think, Gold Five?” Gold Leader asked.

“I’d say about twenty guns,” Gold Five replied. “Some on the surface, some on the tower.”

“Switching to targeting computer.”

It was Gold Two who spoke next. “Computer’s locked. Getting a signal.” A pause; Leia took out the other cannon on the tower. “The guns…” Gold Two continued. “They’ve stopped!”

“Stabilize your rear deflectors,” Gold Five advised. “Watch for enemy fighters.”

“They’re coming in!” Gold Leader cried. “Three marks at two-ten!”

Leia’s heart stopped. More TIE fighters? A few moments passed in silence before Gold Leader spoke again, his voice heavy with panic. “I can’t maneuver!”

“Stay on target.” Gold Five was calm as he spoke.

“We’re too close!”

“Stay on target.”

Gold Leader’s panic only seemed to be growing. “Loosen up!”

A brief silence, and then Gold Five’s voice again. “Gold Five to Red Leader. Lost Tiree, lost Dutch.”

Fear gripped at Leia. Both Gold Two and Gold Leader gone, in less than a minute?

“I copy, Gold Five,” Red Leader said.

Gold Five’s voice suddenly grew strained as he spoke. “It came… from behind.” He was followed by a crackling sound, and then silence. The run had failed.

Luke turned the ship, maneuvering them closer to the trench. The remaining members of Gold Squadron flew nearby, searching for the fighters that had taken their leader out. Most of the guns positioned on the Death Star’s surface had stopped, the Imperial officers most likely having realized they were doing little good against the Rebel starfighters.

Three X-wings dove for the trench, Red Leader among them. Leia watched as they raced towards the exhaust port, her heart thundering in her chest. Up above, three TIE fighters appeared, heading straight for the trench; the middle fighter had bent wings, unlike those of a regular TIE, and zoomed along ahead of the other two. They ignored the fighters lingering around the trench completely, instead focusing solely on those making the run.

“They’re coming in point three-five,” Biggs warned.

“I see them,” came the reply.

“I’m in range,” Red Leader said, his fighter pulling up ahead of the other two. “Target’s coming up! Just hold them off for a few seconds.”

The TIEs moved closer together as they pursued the two Rebel X-wings along the trench. Leia could hear the desperation in Red Leader’s voice as he spoke.

“Almost there…” he said.

The middle TIE fighter fired, striking one of the X-wings; it burst apart instantaneously.

“You’d better let her loose! They’re right behind me!”

“Almost there…”

He wasn’t going to make it. The TIE fired again, and the second X-wing exploded. Red Leader reached the end of the trench, shooting his proton torpedoes at the port, but Leia could tell they weren’t going in before they even struck. Red Leader pulled up fast out of the trench, pursued by the strange TIE fighter. Two X-wings moved in to cover him, but the TIE was too fast; it fired on Red Leader’s ship, causing him to lose control and dive straight into the surface, exploding on impact.  

All Leia could do was watch. She was completely helpless as his X-wing spiralled out of control, unable to do anything to prevent his death. Now, only a handful of the Rebel fighters remained, the rest taken out by laser cannons or TIE fighters. It was up to them to destroy the Death Star, or else the entire Rebel Alliance would die with them.

Luke, too, seemed almost frozen in disbelief for a moment, before shaking himself and getting back to work. “This is Gold Four,” he said, speaking into an open broadcast that reached all their remaining fighters. “I estimate that we have only a minute or two before this thing is in range of Yavin IV, so this is our last chance. Red Two, Red Three with me. We’re going in, full throttle.”

Leia was almost surprised by the confidence with which Luke doled out his orders, but then she remembered he was a prince. He had been raised to lead, and had no doubt been a member of the Alliance for many years — he knew how to command a battlefield.

“We’re with you, Gold Four,” came Red Two’s response.

The three fighters grouped together in formation, and Luke led the dive into the trench. They were met with fire from the heavy artillery lining the trench, but they were moving too fast for it to hit them. Their speed only increased as they began their run, the sides of the trench blurring into grey. Leia swiveled her chair from side to side, watching the two X-wings chasing after them and keeping an eye out for their TIE fighter friends.

“We’ll stay back far enough to cover you,” Biggs said, and both he and Red Two slowed their speed slightly, allowing them to pull ahead.

Luke seemed to be pushing the Y-wing to its very limits, moving it faster than Leia even thought possible. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to prepare herself for the task ahead — she was the one who was going to have to fire the proton torpedoes. Whether they hit their target or not was all up to her. With any other pilot, or even flying herself, Leia would have felt overwhelmed by self-doubt; the timing and angle all needed to be just right, otherwise they wouldn’t go in, and all would be lost. But with Luke, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt none of that doubt.

“My scope shows the tower, but I can’t see the exhaust port,” Red Two said. “Are you sure the computer can hit it?”

“It’ll hit it,” Leia replied. “It has to.”

The gun towers continued firing, positioned somewhere further up along the trench. There were at least two of them, and Luke struggled to avoid their blaster bolts, confined by the two metal walls that rose on either side of them. Their X-wing escorts seemed to be struggling, as well.

“Careful!” she warned them. “Increase speed full throttle!”

“What about the tower?” Red Two asked.

“We’ll deal with that,” Leia said. “You worry about those fighters!” She spun her chair back around to the front, her hands going to the controls for the proton torpedoes.

The gun towers suddenly fell silent, and Leia felt her stomach drop as Red Two confirmed her fears, “Fighters! Coming in, point three!”

Leia tightened her grip on the controls. Time was running short; those fighters had taken out the other two runs, and they couldn’t allow them to succeed for a third time. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the two X-wings in the distance and, just barely visible beyond them, three TIE fighters. The left-most TIE began firing, spraying the canyon with blaster fire until one of his bolts connected with Red Two. Leia winced, but the X-wing didn’t explode.

“I’m hit!” Red Two cried. “I can’t stay with you.”

“Get clear, Wedge,” Luke told him. “You can’t do anymore good back there!”

“Sorry!” Red Two pulled up and out of the trench, speeding away. Leia watched him go for just a moment, before Biggs’s voice pulled her back into the action.

“Hurry, Gold Four! They’re coming in much faster this time. I can’t hold them!”

“Artoo, try and increase the power,” Luke ordered. He was leaning forward, as if willing the Y-wing to move faster. Leia’s heart felt as if it was jumping in her throat, and she watched in fear as the three TIEs moved closer and closer to Biggs’s X-wing.

“Hurry up, Gold Four!” Biggs cried, and Leia could feel his panic. All she could do was stare as the TIE fighters grew closer and closer. Her chest clenched with fright as Biggs let out a call of “Wait!”, but she could do nothing as the middle TIE fired on him. His X-wing burst apart in a blaze that the vacuum of space quickly extinguished, and all that was left of one of her closest friends was a scattering cloud of debris.

Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them away. Now was not the time for that. The TIEs would be coming for them next, and she needed to be ready. Turning back towards the front, she pulled up her targeting computer. It showed the trench rendered as a yellow grid, with the distance to the exhaust port measured in red at the bottom — thirty-five hundred metres, and counting.  

The TIE fighters were growing closer. She felt her panic mounting, rising like bile in her throat. She wasn’t going to be able to make it; they were going too fast, the exhaust port was too small, she wouldn’t be able to hit it…

Ben’s voice echoed in her ears. Use the Force, Leia.

She looked up from her targeting computer. The Force… She remembered Ben’s words, spoken what felt like ages ago in the hold on the Millennium Falcon: a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through them; it controls their actions, but also obeys their commands. Would the Force help her here? Unsure, she glanced at her targeting computer, checking the distance remaining to the exhaust port.

Let go, Leia. Trust me.

She leaned away, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Perhaps Ben was right, and a computer would not work in this situation. She had never used a targeting device before, and she almost always shot true — maybe, all along, it had been the Force, guiding her actions. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the button that retracted the targeting computer.

“Leia, you switched off your targeting computer.” The voice was coming through her comm, from the base on Yavin IV. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Everything’s fine.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder at her. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Just trust me.”

He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before turning back to the controls. She could tell he was uncertain, but he trusted she knew what she was doing. She only hoped he was right.

The walls of the trench flew by her; it wouldn’t be much further now. The TIEs were gaining rapidly, but Leia was confident in Luke’s piloting abilities. They could make it. They could do it.

The middle TIE let out a burst of bolts. While none of them struck the ship, one impacted against R2, exploding against his domed head as the blue astromech let out a high-pitched scream of surprise. The scream quickly winded down into silence, and when Leia glanced back at him, the droid wasn’t moving.

“We’ve lost Artoo,” she said. They could function without an astromech, but any damage sustained to the outside of the Y-wing would be unfixable, and they wouldn’t be able to rely on him for co-piloting. Leia simply hoped that he could be repaired.  

They continued to speed along the trench. The exhaust port had come into view, still several hundred metres away but growing closer every second. The strange TIE fighter fired again, but his shooting ceased when the fighter next to him suddenly burst apart, struck from above. Leia peered up through the domed viewport of the turret, searching for the assailant, and the Millennium Falcon zoomed into view, her appearance accompanied by Han’s cry of success over the comm.

He dove straight for the two remaining TIE fighters. Seemingly hoping to avoid being struck, the rightmost TIE moved to get out of the way, but instead ending up flying directly into the middle fighter. Both pilots lost control, with one crashing into the side of the trench and bursting apart, while the other careened off into space, spinning wildly.

The Falcon pulled up and around, flying overhead as the Y-wing sped down the canyon. The exhaust port was in firing range now. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Leia replaced her hands on the controls for the proton torpedoes.

“You’re all clear!” Han said. “Now let’s blow this thing and go home!”

Leia repeated Ben’s words to herself — a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through them. She focused on that, and imagined the torpedoes reaching their target, imagined herself guiding them.

She pressed the trigger. The torpedoes sailed through space, two bright spheres of energy, and they seemed to curve when they reached the exhaust port, diving through it and plummeting down into the depths of the Death Star. Leia let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and Luke pulled the ship up and away from the trench. He sped off into space, headed for the distant green moon of Yavin IV; the Millennium Falcon led the charge, and they were accompanied by Red Two’s X-wing and another Y-wing, the only other rebel ships that survived the battle. No one spoke as they fled the station, too focused on getting away before it blew.

Leia didn’t look back as they raced away, but she knew when the Death Star exploded, a feeling of absolute certainty settling into her gut; she didn’t hear the explosion, the sound silenced by the vacuum of space, and she didn’t see the millions of pieces that the station burst apart into. All she saw were the edges of light from the short burst of flame, and all she heard was Han’s voice in her ear, telling her what a great shot it had been.

And then Ben was speaking to her, and she felt herself begin breathing again.

Remember, the Force will be with you… always.

◊◊◊

Luke stood at the front of the throne room, staring out at the crowd of rebels gathered in front of him. They included nearly everyone at the Yavin base, and several members of Alliance High Command stood alongside him on the dais. Light poured into the room from five towering windows positioned behind him, and vegetation clung to the ancient walls. Luke was sad that they would have to be leaving the temple soon, but the Empire now knew where they were located, and would likely stop at nothing to exact revenge for the destroyed Death Star. The evacuation would begin in a few hours, but for now, they celebrated, and mourned.

A blare of trumpets rose up, and the doors at the other end of the room slid open. Han, Leia, and Chewbacca appeared, striding into the throne room. Leia no longer wore the simple tunic and pants of a Tatooine farmer; instead, she had donned a dark shirt and pants, layered with a short maroon vest. They made her look less like the hot-headed farm girl who had saved his life twice, and more like the hero of the Rebellion everyone was now proclaiming her to be — a title that Luke couldn’t agree with more.

The three heroes began marching down the aisle that led to the dais, faced on either side by rebel soldiers, pilots, and officers. There were some who had argued that Luke should be with them, celebrated for the part he had played in their victory, but he had politely declined; he was a leader of the Alliance, after all — a fact which various members of High Command had already reminded him of, lecturing him for endangering himself so foolishly when he had a much more important role to play in the Rebellion. Luke had, respectfully, disagreed.

As the trio reached the stairs leading up to the dais, the many soldiers and officers filling the room turned to face the front, their feet slapping against the stone ground almost in unison. The heroes climbed up to where Luke stood, and he took a step towards them, looking from one to the other. As his gaze settled on Leia, a wide smile spread across his face, one which she quickly returned. She had seemed nervous at first, and uncertain, but all of that melted away now; she stood up straighter, her hands clasped firmly behind her back and her head held high.

General Dodonna stepped forward, taking a medal from the hands of a waiting officer and passing it on to Luke. The ribbon was dark green, weighted in his hands by the heavy gold medal that hung from its end. It was one of the highest honours in the Rebel Alliance to receive such a medal, awarded to those who committed heroic acts of bravery in the name of peace and justice. A stylized flower, once a symbol used in the Old Republic, was carved into the medallion, a rising sun at its centre that symbolized a new hope for the Alliance.

Luke turned to face Han, draping the medal over his bowed neck. Han straightened, a proud smirk on his face, and gave Luke a quick nod. Luke had been pleasantly surprised by Han’s sudden reappearance during the battle; he had been disappointed initially when it had seemed as if the smuggler was going to simply take his reward and leave, but it appeared that there was more to him than Luke had originally believed. He was glad to have been wrong.

Dodonna reached out with the second medal, and Luke took it, turning to Leia. She was still smiling, and it only widened as Luke placed the medal around her neck. He couldn’t help but feel pride for her; she was an amazing gunner, and he had no doubts that she would go on to accomplish even greater things. She was so much more than a farm girl from a backwater world, and he hoped she knew that.

Luke took a step back, and Han and Leia both bowed. As they straightened, R2 came shuffling out onto the dais, fully repaired and beeping excitedly; even his cracked photoreceptor had been replaced, and he gleamed like a brand-new droid. He came to a stop beside C-3PO, chittering at his golden counterpart, and Luke smiled, glad that the astromech was alright.

Han and Leia turned to face the crowd, their medals gleaming around their necks, and the assembled rebels burst into applause. They had lost many good pilots during the battle against the Death Star, and even more soldiers had perished in the fight to retrieve the space station’s plans. Alderaan was destroyed, but Luke was comforted by the fact that no more planets would suffer the same fate as his homeworld. As he stood there, staring out at the crowd, he thought of the weeks and months to come. They would no doubt be difficult — the Alliance would need to find another planet off which to base their operations, and the Empire would be coming for them with a vengeance. The galaxy was at war.

But the Rebellion was ready for it.