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Date: 2016-01-11 10:12 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (eleven.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[She shakes her head a second time when he says her name. Don't. If they have to have that conversation--and one of these days, they'll probably have to--it's not happening from two ships away.]

Considering how many they've already picked up, I'd guess tomorrow. [Let's be completely real here, Leia might have been in similar straits with Steven Universe if he hadn't mentioned that he had someone here to take care of him.]

I'll transfer as soon as I can. [Because let's be real, she still has every intent of doing so.] Until then, I'd rather you were there. That captain of yours sounds like a real piece of work.

Date: 2016-01-11 11:23 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (four.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[She gives him a little nod, like yes, I see you're cutting up, and don't call me ma'am, but at the question, her expression lightens a little.]

You're always welcome over here.

[Read: Please come see her later.]

Date: 2016-01-11 11:32 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (twelve.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
I'll see you then.

[And be just a little keyed-up until that point, neatening things up and generally doing a ship-long equivalent of pacing. Idleness--let's be honest here, boredom--feels more egregious to her when something's about to happen.]

Date: 2016-01-12 12:01 am (UTC)
imahologram: (thirty-eight.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[She glances up from where she's telling herself she's organizing things (she's not, she's just keeping her hands busy, but the point remains), and a little smile crosses her face.]

Took you long enough.

[There's no real bite in her voice, just fondness as she crosses the small room.]

The Windrose is all right. Good people on board.

Date: 2016-01-12 02:57 am (UTC)
imahologram: (fifty-six.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
That's a low bar.

[Ah, bickering and back-and-forth. Something to take some comfort in.]

How're things over there?

Date: 2016-01-12 03:31 am (UTC)
imahologram: (seventy-seven.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
Calm and quiet--and the captain's reasonable.

[The Windrose is mostly full of adults and droids at this point, praise be.

But she doubts he's only here to compare ships, and there's no way she's discussing anything private within earshot of any crewmates. Leia glances down, reaching out for his hand.]


Come on, let's go somewhere with a door that shuts.

Date: 2016-01-13 04:28 am (UTC)
imahologram: (fifty-eight.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[It's not a long walk from the kitchen to her bunk, and while the door latches, there's not much else to recommend the space. It's tiny, the cot is lumpy, and the only thing Leia's added to the room is a palm-sized salt statue from Arslae.

But it's what she has to work with, and Leia waves him in, taking care to shut the door behind her.]


That poor girl. There must be something more we can do for her.

[Easier to talk about than most of what's on her mind, and probably, she thinks, more productive.]

Date: 2016-01-13 04:41 am (UTC)
imahologram: (fifty-four.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[Someday, the Huntress, with its actual beds and its many different synthetic food flavours. What a goal to have in life.

For the moment, Leia takes a seat on one end of her cot, back against the wall.]


It's not bad advice [these things take time, after all], but I don't want to sit around and do nothing.

[A glance over at Han.]

How are you doing?

Date: 2016-01-13 02:52 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (forty-nine.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[Leia gives Han a sour expression, but it doesn't hold. With a sigh, she tips her head back, the braids at the crown of her head brushing against the wall.]

I hate thinking of a child living that way. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

[What happened to her and what happened to this girl aren't the same thing, not in the slightest, but that's what she keeps coming back to: a bone-deep sense of disquiet at the thought.]

Date: 2016-01-13 07:08 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (forty-seven.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
I killed him.

[Which is to say, I know. The memory still lives inside her, though, and there are times when her skin still crawls with remembered sensations. You don't forget the texture of a Hutt's tongue that easily.]

The alternative seemed worse. [She turns her head slightly in his direction, watching him from the corner of her eye.] We couldn't have left you behind.

Date: 2016-01-13 07:34 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (seventy-two.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
No. I couldn't.

[She had loved him, and she'd lost too many people she loved in too few years. The thought of knowing where he was and doing nothing about it--when, this time, something could be done--would have been impossible to bear.

Waiting for the opportunity had been bad enough. She can't count how many times her thoughts strayed to him during Operation Yellow Moon.

Leia's lips press together into a thin line, her gaze shifting away from Han's profile into the middle distance.]


He was never going to pay for the things he did.

[A new bitterness slides through her voice. Jabba the Hutt had years to indulge his gluttony unchecked, and the number of lives he'd ruined--or snuffed out entirely--must have been astronomical. As thoroughly as Leia believes in her ideals, she doesn't think there's any punishment possible to balance the crimes he committed or the slaves he kept.]

Choking him with the chain he put around my neck will have to be good enough.

Date: 2016-01-13 07:59 pm (UTC)
imahologram: (twenty-four.)
From: [personal profile] imahologram
[Leia can guess what he's thinking--not in detail, but that dark little comment doesn't come out of nowhere, and she knows Han. If he'd seen her at her most humiliated...

She'll never stop being grateful that he didn't. That Luke had to is bad enough.

When he puts an arm around her, she doesn't shrug it off, but she doesn't curl into his side like she usually does, either. The cot's not all that stable--that's the excuse if she needs one, though she doubts she does--and Han's warmth is no protection from the facts of the matter.]


You worked for him.

[Not accusatory, just a statement of fact. She doesn't meet his gaze.]

You know how he treated his...

[Slaves.

She doesn't want to have to say it aloud. The fact that she was counted among Jabba the Hutt's personal possessions--the fact that his includes her, if only for a few days--churns her stomach.]

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