Star Wars the Truce at Bakura - Kathy Tyers [63]
Threepio waddled toward her. “Are you ready, Mistress L—?”
She had seized up the Owner and shut off Threepio. Now she turned to watch the bedroom door. No one emerged. “He can’t do this to me,” she muttered. “To my life. He can’t do it!”
Han glanced at the comically frozen droid, then crinkled his mouth. “He who? Did you get a call from that captain guy?”
Flinging out her arms, she paced past the windows. “Oh, fine. That’s all you can think of, your petty”—she grabbed a couch pillow—“lousy”—she twisted it between her hands—“jealousy! Vader’s been here, and all you can think of is … acch!”
“Whoa, Princess.” He showed her his palms. “Vader’s dead. Luke burned him. I took a speeder bike out and saw the ash pile.”
Leia’s stomach hurt. “You saw his body. I just saw the … rest of him.”
“You’re seeing things too, now?” He stood hip-hitched, hands in his pockets, eyebrows raised. “Either you’re getting stronger in this Force stuff or Luke’s a bad influence.”
“Maybe both,” she said bitterly. “If I had to see ghosts, I could’ve put up with that Yoda of his. I would’ve enjoyed talking to General Kenobi. Who do I get?” Dropping the pillow, she struck the yellow wall with a fist.
“Easy,” he murmured. “It’s not my fault.”
“I know it isn’t.” Now her knuckles hurt, too. Frustrated, she pivoted to lean against the wall. She glared back across the lounge pit’s blue and green cushions toward her bedroom.
“What did he want?”
“You’re gonna love this. To apologize.”
Han gave a short, disbelieving laugh and ran a hand over his eyes.
“Yeah,” she said. “My sentiments exactly.”
“You know, you’ve been jumping at everything that reminded you of him. Now you’ve faced him down. Maybe the worst is over.”
“It’s not.” She let her shoulders sink. “Han, he’s still here. I’m …” Unable to finish the sentence, she shut her eyes.
“So what?” Han stepped closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, nobody gets to be as big a deal with the Empire as he was without a lot of strengths and abilities. You got ’em. You’re just using ’em differently.”
How could he be so insensitive? “Thanks a lot, Han.” She considered taking a swing at him.
“Leia?” He spread his arms. “I’m sorry too. I guess. Sorry I made a stink about that Alderaanian guy, anyway.”
She drew a long, slow breath and stayed against the wall. “Go away.”
“All right,” Han exclaimed abruptly, “okay! I can take a hint.” Glaring, he stalked around the lounge pit.
“Han, wait!” What had she done, venting her anger on the one person she shouldn’t hurt? He passed Threepio, then the darkened comm station, almost reaching the main door. “Han, it’s … it’s the Vader in me. I can’t help what I am.”
As the impact of what she’d said flooded through her, Han stopped beside the black console. He turned slowly. “No,” he said. “It’s the Skywalker in you.”
That name—Luke’s name—didn’t raise her hackles the same way. A fleeting thought flashed through her mind: What had Vader been like … before he was Vader?
“I’ll tell you one thing.” Han walked up to the edge of the lounge pit. “Governments need each other. Yeah. Planets do, species do. But so do people.”
Governments. She was going to be late for breakfast with the prime minister—“Yeah.” She paced back to his side. “Right. Anyway, he’s gone. He didn’t hurt me. Maybe he can’t hurt me any more.”
“That’d be good.” Han ran a finger around the tight braids pinned to her head.
She yanked out the pins and pulled off the end clasps. Han stood with his eyebrows at attention as she ran her fingers from scalp to ends and tossed her head. Her hair swung loose. “But I’m not going to forgive him,” she said softly.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He fingered the dark cascade, then wrapped an arm around her waist.
His shoulder made a firm, warm pillow. “I love you, Nerf Herder.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
He stroked the back of her head. “What makes you think I don’t?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, straightening her neck. She held her lips