* Avalanche Angel *
by Marjorie Joyce
see You Do Have Your Moments home page
for applicable legal statements and disclaimers
(please don't fret--none of these are essential to understanding this story)
- "On the Turn of a Dream," Rebecca Maynard and Cindy Olsen
- "The Game Begins" and "In Your Dreams" (the latter to be published in the fanzine Kiss 3), Marjorie Joyce
- tip o' the hat to the song "That Girl Could Sing," Jackson Browne, 1980
How could things have gone so wrong?
The high winds of the fjord planet Brisben plastered the white
ceremonial gown of Republic Senator turned Alliance leader
Princess Leia Organa to her slight body as she peered into the night
and spun slowly to survey the damage. All was deadly silent around
her now, save the Imperial ships that screamed just above her every
few minutes.
This was supposed to have been easy. For once the Alliance had
luck on their side. For once the Empire had been outnumbered. Leia
and the Alliance contingent that had travelled to Brisben to scout for
a new base location just happened to stumble across a small group
of Imperial stormtroopers that had been forced to land there for
repairs. The Alliance had learned from the local space mechanics the
stormtroopers had pressed into labor that the Imperials had lost off
planet communication capabilities, in fact hadn't even been able to
contact their destroyer to report they'd been forced down. They
were, in effect, MIA. And Imperial policy on recovering those
missing in action wasn't, well, very stringent.
The Alliance plan was simple: to lure the stormtroopers away from
their ships by planting a rumor that Imperial outlaw Princess Leia
Organa herself would be holding a recruitment meeting in the middle
of the night at an abandoned castle near the remote town of Bala
Cynwyd, the same castle the Alliance had conveniently chosen for
their new base. The Princess would play her part, and Alliance
infantry soldiers would play the part of the attendees. Meantime,
Alliance pilots would seize the Imperial ships, flying the ones that
were capable and reviving the rest so they could fly long enough to
get them under cover at the castle. The Alliance had bet the isolated
stormtroopers would still want to play hero, and they did.
When the Imperials moved in on the castle, the Alliance infantry met
them outside. With one stormtrooper to every three rebels, then,
how did Leia end up in the middle of a field with over half her
people down? Stormtroopers weren't known for their stellar battle
skills, just for their overwhelming numbers, which they didn't have
this time. The Force worked in strange ways.
At least the Imperials were finished off in the end; she'd helped
make sure of that, felling the last stormtrooper with a blaster bolt
from a castle turret. All Alliance efforts were now on treating the
wounded. It was still dark, though, and the Rebels hadn't come to
Brisben with night vision equipment, so it was slow-going. People
were out in the field looking around as best they could with small
handlights. Shivering in the bone-chilling wind, Leia had joined
them, calling upon the skill she'd honed in childhood games to
sense bodies around her by the air they displaced and the heat they
radiated. The medical staffers didn't know how she was doing it--she didn't know how she was doing it--but they followed her
every time she came saying she'd found someone. She was never
wrong.
When she sensed one particular body, though, she didn't just feel it,
she was drawn to it. It was a man, around six feet tall. As she
neared, she noticed he was on his side and wearing a spacer vest.
Oh, no. How could it be? Han Solo.
Leia stepped over him and knelt down to feel for a pulse. It was as
loud and clear as the passes he made at her. "He never quits," she
said to herself wryly. He wasn't responding to her touch or her calls
to him, though. She looked for wounds, running her hands over his
body in the dark, involuntarily noticing how solid he felt beneath
her.
What was he doing here, anyway? He was supposed to be with
Luke and the other pilots. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but
he was much too valuable as a flyer and mechanic to be fighting
here. Well, he was suffering no external damage. May have a
concussion.
"OK, hero," she muttered and touched his cheek, "I'm going to get you
help."
Han felt like he weighed a ton. Wait a minute--that was just his
eyelids. The rest of him must have weighed ten tons. He couldn't
seem to move at all, not even open his eyes. And his head throbbed
like an avalanche had fallen directly on it. How did he get down
here? He felt the rocky ground beneath him, yet it seemed he was
deep under water, struggling to rise up and break the surface. Last
he knew he was frantically working on ships, trying to remember all
those shortcuts he'd learned in Imperial Navy maintenance training.
Now he felt a pair of small, soft hands running all over him. That
was nice.
'Who had hands like this?' he asked himself. 'Who am I dreaming of? I
can't move, though--can't even open my eyes. Am I dead?'
If he was dead, he was still feeling, and what he was feeling was good.
'If I'm dead, I must be in heaven,' he thought. 'And if I'm in heaven,
then this must be a t'qella. I've got to see her.' It just had to be a
"her."
His eyelids fluttered and finally opened to see Leia running into the night
with her white gown whipping in the wind.
"My angel," he struggled to say to himself, then smiled and let the
weight of his eyelids back down.
The next time Han opened his eyes he heard a chorus of voices
around him and felt a half-dozen hands on him. But all he saw was
the Princess' face above his, her long hair loose and floating about
her. A strand waved across her face, another tickled his neck. Was
her hair all the way down? Couldn't be.
"It was you," Han drawled weakly.
Leia was looking at the medical technicians, watching as they positioned
him flat on the ground.
"Han! How do you feel?" she asked as she turned to him with a face
full of concern.
"I saw an angel earlier," Han said. "It was you."
Leia turned back to the med techs to see them all listening and
looking at her. She frowned and fought off a blush. Even with a
possible concussion he could embarrass her.
"He's clearly delirious," she said to them, completely ignoring the
presence of the man she was talking about.
The tech across from Leia turned Han's head to her, checked his
eyes, and asked him some questions. Who was he? Where was he?
Why was he here?
"He's perfectly lucid," the tech began after listening to Han's
answers, "but he may have suffered a concussion...typical Corellian
hardhead saved his butt again," she finished with a smile at Han.
"Thanks, Liv," he said with a smile back at her.
"How do you feel, Solo?" another tech asked. "Up to flying?"
"Flying?!" Leia snapped her head to the tech and repeated
incredulously. "He can't go up in the air so soon, Reez!"
"There are several ships still waiting to be picked up," Reez
explained. "We're shuttling pilots back as fast as we can. They're
flying low; he'd experience no appreciable pressure changes."
"You bet I'm up for it," Han said, having propped himself up on his
elbows. Aching head or not, he had no intentions of missing the
action.
"Good," Reez said. "You'll need supervision, though, just in case
you get sleepy. We've been up all night; if you have a concussion,
you don't want your body to decide to take a nap just yet."
"OK," Han said and turned to Leia, "I pick my angel as supervisor."
Leia couldn't fight the blush this time. The med techs grinned at
each other and looked from Han to Leia. The Princess glared at the
smuggler.
"I hate you," she said simply.
"I know," he replied with a wide smile.
"See you back at the castle, Luke," Leia shouted over the roar of the
ship engines around her.
While the surrounding Rebels blended into the night that was turning into
dawn, the Princess fairly shone in white against the dark. Han had been
running from side to side of an Imperial shuttle, using his knack for
"special modifications" to get it operational. Now he stood with arms
crossed high on his chest, admiring the sleeves of Leia's gown flowing in
the wind as she gave orders.
'She never quits,' he thought with an appreciative sigh, 'but I'm getting
bored here.'
"Uh, Your Worship..." Han shouted and hefted a thumb toward the
ship, "...we've got work to do, 'member?"
Leia turned to him with a scowl. What did he think she was doing?
"After you've landed," Leia shouted to Luke and the rest of the
pilots as she walked backwards toward Han and the ship, "go to the
field and see if they need any help clearing it. We don't want any
evidence that stormtroopers were ever here."
"Right, Princess," Luke replied and waved to her and Han.
"Thanks, guys," Leia finished and waved back, then disappeared as
Han followed her through the shuttle's hatch.
The two-person cockpit was cramped and dark, but it was the stale
air in it that threatened to overcome Leia as she entered. The
Princess sat in the navigator chair and started to cough as she
strapped herself in.
"You OK?" Han asked casually but eyed her solicitously.
"I'm fine," Leia deflected. "You're the one you should be worried
about. The air in here is thick, that's all." Thick with what, though?
For lack of a more specific term, she called it evil.
"I'm no Chewbacca," she said as her eyes roamed the control panel
in front of her, "but what can I do to help? He's going to be furious
he was visiting home and missed the opportunity to fly one of
these."
"I can hear him howling about it already," Han said with a laugh.
"Nope, nothin' you need to do to help me...in the flying
department, anyway," he continued as he engaged the ship's vertical
lift and his bravado. "I flew an early make of this baby a long time
ago."
"You did, did you?" Leia asked with a raised eyebrow. Her
curiosity was piqued, and Han knew it. He liked to throw these
bones to her every once in a while. Sometimes he thought it was the
only way to get her to pay any attention to him. And such an
interesting guy as himself was not to be ignored. Not even by a
princess. Especially not by this one.
"What circumstances enabled you to fly an Imperial shuttle?" Leia
asked, gathering her hair over her shoulder to retie it in the loose tail
from which most of it had blown free. She didn't suspect Solo of
being an Imperial spy as other Rebels had; she'd never had that
feeling about him, and she trusted those feelings--was even coming
to depend on them. Leia was just curious about Han's past, about
what had brought a man who had lived another life before her to
cross her and the Alliance's paths. The Force worked in strange
ways indeed.
Han watched her slip the white ribbons from her hair and wind them
around her hands. They were such small, delicate hands. "I have my
secrets just like you," Han said.
"What secrets could I possible have?" Leia replied, beginning to get
annoyed. "What is there that you don't know about me?"
Han smiled. This is how he liked to see her: agitated, and on his
account. There was a fine line between hate and...well, whatever it
took to get her to pay attention to him.
"I don't know your hairstyling secrets, for one," Han said.
Leia dropped her hands into her lap. "Oh, now you're just being
ridic--" She turned to see him laughing to himself. "That blow to the
head is doing wonders for your personality," she said, shaking her
head and looking away with an unbelieving smile.
"Hey, this is all natural, sister," Han said. "Admit it, I'm a pretty
funny guy."
"Always looking for a compliment, aren't you?" Leia began. "You
must have been neglected as a child. OK, you're funny," she
finished, lacing a ribbon back around her ponytail.
"Thanks," Han said brightly, ignoring how close she'd been in his
assessment of his childhood. Neglected? Try abandoned.
"You bait almost as well as the kid does," he continued. "You take
life too seriously." Han instantly realized he'd said the wrong thing.
"Take life too seriously?" Leia repeated, fighting to keep her blood
pressure from rising along with her voice. "I'm lucky to be alive,
thanks. I should have died on Alderaan, or at least bought it on the
Death Star. You bet I take my life seriously, flyboy. Every day I'm
living is a bonus, an opportunity to redeem mys--" She'd said way
more than she meant to; he seemed to have that effect on her. They
sat silent and listened to the ship slice through the atmosphere.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Han said after a moment. "I shouldn't have
said that. I didn't mean to minimize your situation. What I meant is
that you could enjoy yourself more."
Leia was constantly surprised--and pleasantly so--at how
compassionate The sun was rising now. Leia stared out the side viewscreen to
survey the gray, craggy planet surface, her eye following it to the
endless waterline of the sea to the ship's right. Dawn brought with it
bands of purple and green above the horizon. What was it in the
atmosphere that created those colors? She realized how very quiet it
had become around her. Too quiet. Fearing Han had passed out, Leia spun
to see him looking at her. He turned back to face the viewscreen.
"Ever thought of checking out of this whole Rebellion gig?" Han
asked quietly, cautiously.
"Yes," Leia answered without hesitation.
At first she was shocked by her quick admission, and then...strangely... "I could set you up somewhere, you know," Han said, bringing
Leia's mind back to the ship and the present. "Get you a new
identity, a new life. I've got friends that can do some amazing things
that way."
"I'm sure you do," Leia said with a laugh then grew serious, "but,
no, Han. I've thought about leaving, but I've never done anything
more than that. I can't leave. I can't escape myself. I have
unfinished business with the Empire. This is where I can do the
most damage to them. This is where I belong." She paused, then
turned to him with a smile and added, "Thanks for the offer,
though."
Han nodded, looking from the corners of his eyes at the tiny body in
white sitting next to him.
"Do you remember how you got in to that fight at the castle,
anyway?" Leia asked after a moment.
"I think so," Han said, clearing the cobwebs in his mind. "I was
flying over and saw you guys weren't making short order of those
Imps like we expected. But they're stormtroopers, you know?" he
said, looking at the Princess. "They're supposed to be stubborn.
Anyway, I figured you guys could use some hel--"
Suddenly, the shuttle started to lose altitude. And the castle was
nowhere in sight yet.
"Han, what are you doing?" Leia shouted over the alarms that had
kicked on.
The smuggler scanned the control panel. Kreth. "We must be outta
fuel."
Leia turned her hands into fists as she watched the ship careen
toward the sea cliffs. "I don't believe this!"
"Look, sister," Han shouted as he pointed a finger at her, "I was
just tryin' to get this piece of crap airborne for you losers. I wasn't
looking for a full tank!"
Han struggled for control of the ship and strained to find a place to land
in the gray morning light.
"Dammit," Han swore. "The gauge must be broken; we shoulda been warned
we were runnin' low. Just hold on. I should be able to make a
controlled landing."
He did, barely. The shuttle dropped over and sheared a cliff, then
landed roughly on a short plateau with a narrow slope to the sea
below.
"This is great," Leia said dryly as they stumbled out of the ship and
surveyed the land around them. "You've managed to cut us off from
the mainland. Are we supposed to just scale that cliff now?" she
asked in exasperation, pointing to the rock wall above them.
"No, Your Worship..." Han started hotly, following the line of her
finger to see dust and pebbles spewing from the top of the cliff, then
hearing a low rumble and grabbing Leia's hand, "...we're supposed
to run. Avalanche!"
With the Princess in tow Han made a dash for the slope. Their
ship's clipping the cliff's edge on the way down encouraged what
were already loose boulders to come tumbling down, and now they
were following Han and Leia down the slope, the larger rocks
breaking into smaller ones that bounced and rolled after the two
streaking figures. Leia turned back to watch a rock narrowly miss
them.
"Don't look back," Han shouted to her. "It'll only slow ya
down. Pick up the pace, Your Shortness."
If Leia had the time she would have been angry. As it was she was
cut on the ankle by a shard of another rock that rolled past them. At
last they were coming to the bottom of the hill that emptied out
into the beach. The gray Brisben sea yawned beyond.
"Get clear," Han yelled as they hit and sunk into the sand, their pace
slowed by the soft, shifting surface beneath their feet.
The rocks were sinking into the sand, too, coming to a stop as soon as
they touched the surface. It seemed Han and Leia had made another
impossible escape, emerging yet again from life-threatening danger
relatively unscathed...until one small rock launched itself from the bottom
of the slope and winged Han on the side of his head. Still holding his
hand, Leia fell with him. She lay facing him and saw he was out
cold.
"Isn't this where I came in?" she asked herself.
Above the roar of the tide, Leia heard a ship's engines. Propping
herself up on a hand she watched a TIE advanced fighter land down
the beach. A familiar blonde-haired Rebel dropped out and started
running toward her and Han.
"Princess, are you allright?!" Luke called as he neared. "I was
behind you when I saw your ship drop over the cliff!" Luke noticed
Han was motionless, and knelt down beside him. "What happened?!" Luke asked,
his soft blue eyes shifting from the pirate to the Princess.
"He got knocked out again. We've got to get him to the med techs
quickly," Leia said, struggling to stand up. "We ran out of fuel and
sheared the cliff on our way down, which started an avalanche
and..." she explained and indicated the rocks on the beach, "...well,
you get the idea."
Luke moved to give Leia a hand up. She smiled and pulled against
his weight to stand.
"Thanks for looking out for us, Luke," she said.
He surreptitiously admired her lithe form as she twisted to beat
sand out of her dress. "You guys are my best friends, Princess," he
replied.
"Leia," she reminded him.
"Leia," he repeated with a shy smile. She had to break him of this
formality. Force knew Han certainly had never bothered to observe it.
"I'll bring the ship closer," Luke said as he started toward the
fighter. "The castle's not far. Doesn't look like your shuttle was
damaged much. I'll call for someone to come with fuel for it."
Leia nodded, then knelt next to Han and watched Luke run down the
beach.
"These guys certainly keep life interesting, anyway," she said to herself,
then looked down to see Han struggling to open his eyes again. Dull grey,
they focused on her.
Han managed a weak lopsided smile. "There you are," he said. "I
knew my angel would be here."
Leia smirked and held his eyes for a moment, then looked away to watch the
tide come in.
this pirate actually was. "Apology accepted," she
said, then started to lace another ribbon around her ponytail. 'And
message received,' she added to herself.
relieved, as if a great weight she'd been carrying had suddenly been lifted from her. She'd never told anyone about this, didn't
have anyone she could confide in anymore. The only people around her now depended on her as a leader, for moral support. Except Han. At that moment
she realized how much she enjoyed talking with him, how much she
needed to. He expected nothing from her. With others--even Luke,
whom she'd grown to genuinely love in a such a short time--she had
to be a rock of faith. With Han, she could be herself--full of hope
and ideas, but plagued by doubts and fears, too. And he had a full
ten years' life experience on her that she could benefit from, to put
things in some perspective. Yes, she actually liked this man. Now if
only he'd be nice to her and let her be nice to him. He was always
complicating things with some risque comment; it was as if he
wanted something else from her, something she didn't have to give.
She resented the pressure. Why couldn't they just be friends? She
couldn't handle any romantic entanglements right now; she had too
many other knots in her psyche to untie at the moment.
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