She looked out the large viewing window of Home One, out into the vast blackness of space. Millions of brilliant white stars danced in the dark, surrounding the hundreds of planets spreading throughout the galaxy. Thousands of ships of various shapes and sizes carried all manner of people and cargo to certain destinations. And small one ship, out of many, carried a cargo more precious to her than her own life. Frozen in carbonite, yet still alive, Han Solo's final destination was the palace of Jabba the Hutt, a vile place beyond her imaginings.

Leia felt helpless. Alone and lost, even more so than when Alderaan was destroyed. Some had tried to help her deal with the aftermath of the planet's destruction, but Han was the only one who knew about her continued nightmares. He was the only one who continually nagged at her to actually eat, to get some sleep, to not work herself to death. He was the only one who dared to push at her, and he was good at it. Now that he was gone, Leia realized just how much she'd come to rely on him, how much she loved all the ways he took care of her. What was she going to do without him?

Luke stood next to her, his good arm around her shoulder. She knew he cared about her, would do anything to help her right now. But he wasn't who she really wanted. Though she cared about Luke, even loved him, he simply was not the man she needed.

She fingered the envelope in the pocket of her dress. A letter Chewy had given her just before he and Lando boarded the ship. Han wrote this on the way to Bespin, he'd said. He wanted me to give it to you if anything happened to him. A part of her wanted to run to her rooms and read it now, but she waited. Luke was still sick, he still needed her help. Later, in private, she could read the words Han had written. She could put off for a few hours feeling the fresh pain of loss.

Together the two friends stood at the window, watching the Millenium Falcon take off, soaring through the stars to find their friend. To find her lover.