Saga Saga - OT Small Detours [R/W, H/L, ESB AU]

Title: A Small Detour (MMM)
Author: DaenaBenjen42
Characters: Han, Chewie... Ismaren Family...
Genre: Drama
Timeframe: post-ANH (AU)
Disclaimer: Happily playing in the sandbox.
Notes: This is to answer Ceillean's question about how two characters met. Enjoy.



Han could feel the weight of his companion's sidelong glare as he piloted away from the supply depot. The Wookiee hadn't so much as said two words the entire time they had bartered with suppliers, and had only bothered to grunt unintelligibly twice to show his displeasure...

"And we'll take a gross of those," he said as he pointed to something that he vaguely recognized as food. The supplier person nodded and finished the order for them.

Walking away with a hoversled packed with supplies, he bumped into someone. A female someone. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the beautiful stranger told him timidly, avoiding his eyes.

Han suddenly realized that she was holding a little boy in her hands. "Are you all right?"

"Fine."

He stared to reach out to her, but Chewie grunted, and Han suddenly remembered that they were on a limited timeframe as it was. Still... something in her tone told him that nothing was, in fact, fine. "Ma'am?"

"What?"

Even the one-word responses had an edge to them. "Are you in need of some assistance?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

"We could give you a ride if need be." At that, Chewie grunted again, reminding him that they needed to be going.

Finally she looked at him. "You would do that?"

"Can you pay?"

She laughed. "Of course. You offering?"

"Yes."

...which was why Chewbacca was glaring at him. "We couldn't leave them there, you know." Getting no response other than a glare, Han sighed as he completed the jump to lightspeed. Then he stood up, shook his head, and left the cockpit.

Entering the small lounge area, he stopped and watched as the woman interacted with the little boy. They seemed so... normal. Was that the word he'd wanted? Probably not, but it fit.

The woman tore her attention away from the boy, noticing him at last. "Oh, it's you."

Han laughed softly. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Not really. Could have been your large furry companion, too." She frowned at him. "Does he do more than grunt?"

"Yes," Han said as he sat down in a chair and faced them. "Bad day and we're a little behind."

"Oh." She turned her attention back to the child and made a face at him. "Thank you for getting us out of there..."

"It's Han," he helpfully supplied. "And don't mention it. Your name would be?"

"Roganda."

"On the run?"

"No. Ran into some storm troopers. They... recognized me from their tour of duty on Coruscant."

"Sounds like you're on the run." At her mild glare, he mentally backpeddled. "Or not... We've got a stop to make to drop off our cargo. There anywhere you need to be?"

She gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded. "I'm taking my son to a surgeon. Irek, say hello to the nice man." The little boy, who couldn't have been more than three or four years old, shook his head at her. "Come on, now. Han here is nice and now not a stranger." He shook his head again, buried his face in her shirt front, and Roganda tried to smile at Han. "Sorry. He's not accustomed to talking to new people yet."

"No need to be sorry. Why are you taking him to a surgeon?"

For several long minutes, she didn't speak and avoided his gaze. Then she sighed and met his eyes squarely. "You'll think it's crazy."

"Lady, I live crazy on a daily basis."

That answer must have amused her, because she laughed. "All right. I found a way for him to manipulate machines through the Force, but it has to be done when he's young or it won't work."

Han had heard many weird or just plain down right odd things in his life, but this... this was one of the stranger. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"I prefer not to think of it that way, Captain."

Somehow, that answer did not fill him with confidence.

~*~*~*~*~​

After dropping of the supplies at the Rebel base, checking in with General Rieekien, and finding out that the Kid and the Princess weren't back yet, Han had gone out again and taken the woman and her son to their destination on some backwater out of the way planet.

Sitting in the cantina and waiting for her to show up, he was getting restless and edgy. She should have been here by now.

Deciding not to wait another ten minutes, Han got up out of his seat and made for the door. He was outside the cantina when he felt the ground tremble beneath him. It was weak and didn't last very long, but he know a groundquake when he felt one. Looking around, he didn't see any damage immediately, but looking down the street, he did.

A building was in ruins. Hand on his sidearm as he walked quickly, he got the building before anyone else... was this the place that she'd told him she'd be? Pulling his blaster, he carefully entered the building. There was rubble everywhere.

He found her in what would have resembled an operating theater if it had still been intact. She was sitting on a rock, staring at a pile of rubble and slowly rocking back and forth. Wordlessly, he took her in his arms, knowing he didn't need to say anything. Words meant nothing to her now, but something tangible, a touch, meant everything.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," she sobbed when she finally let herself speak, voice harsh with emotion. It made him wince to hear something so raw and unbridled. "I didn't..."

"I know," he gently whispered into her ear.

"Did it?"

Wanting to protect her for just this moment, he shook his head. "Only if you believe it did, Roganda. Only then." Glancing around at the scattered debris, he shuddered involuntarily. So much destruction...

"It was supposed to be a simple," she said a while later. No one had come and he hadn't let go. She hadn't wanted him to let go. "Come to this place, get the procedure done. Simple."

"And?"

She motioned to the debris. "It wasn't. Not even close."

He nodded. When he'd hooked up with her, the idea to put her son through a procedure to help him influence mechanicals with the Force hadn't seemed safe at all. The very thought had seemed dangerous from the start.

She pushed herself out of his arms and stood up. Glaring down at a rock, she kicked it. Watching it bounce off, she kicked another, and then another... "It should have been me!" As she ran out of small rocks and made ready to kick a bigger one, he grabbed her from behind. "Let me go, you oaf!"

"No. You'll hurt yourself."

"So?" The rhetorical question was met with silence as she seethed and stared at the rock she'd been about to kick. "What difference does it make it I hurt myself?"

"It makes a big difference to me, Roganda."

"Why does it make a difference to you if I hurt my foot? It's my foot, and I can hurt myself if I want to!"

He sighed and released his grip, realizing that if he didn't let her at least try to kick something, he'd be next. It wasn't exactly a secret between them that she'd had some serious and hard training at one point. "All right... if you feel like you deserve to hurt, I won't stop you."

She looked from him, to the rock, and back again. "You mean that?"

"Of course I do." More than she knew...

Sighing, she sat down on the rock instead of kicking it, and just looked at him hollowly for a minute or two. He returned the gaze evenly, and she looked away. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Coming after me, Solo." She shook her head and glanced around again at the scattered debris. "It's just... so much time and effort for this, I failed at the first step, and the ground quake, and..."

He sat down across from her and put a hand on her knee. "I couldn't not come."

She glanced at him, blinking hard at the gesture. "And I'm really glad you did."

They sat there for a another minute or two before Han stood up and held out his hand. "Come on. Let's get you out of here and find something to eat."

"But what about...?"

"We'll deal with it. Food first."

She stared at him, then nodded, took his hand, and stood up. "Lead on, Captain."

Picking up the blaster that he'd set down in a hurry and reholstering it, Han led her away from the husk of a building.

~*~*~*~​

Life in the cantina was going on around her as she stared at the table top, intent on thinking of nothing but the sturdy mesh that made up the table. It should have worked...

"Here," her companion said, interrupting her train of thought as he set a drink down in front of her.

She glanced at it, noting it was actually caf and not something else, and looked away again. "Not thirsty."

"Drink anyway."

"This is supposed to be a festive time, but... sure doesn't feel that way. Not at all."

He reached across the table and took hold of her hand gently. "I know it doesn't, Lady Ismaren."

She snorted incredulously. "I'm no lady, Solo. Just like you're not an officer... Where's your shadow, by the way?"

"Waiting for us at the ship."

She nodded and glanced at the cup of caf again. "Why caf?"

"Comfort food."

"Mmm... Solo?"

"Yes?"

She fought to meet his gaze evenly, relieved when she found compassion there. A tear slid down her cheek and she began to shake her head slightly. "I wasn't trying to kill my child. I didn't mean for it to end like that. I really, really didn't."

"I understand that part, Roganda."

She was silent for several long moments as she stared at the cup of caf, then looked at him again. "Irek caused the quake, I think."

Han frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Roganda motioned to the activity going around them in the cantina. "It was too localized and there's nothing broken here."

"That doesn't mean..."

"Plus, I felt a surge in the Force right when Irek was waking up from the procedure. That's why I think he did it."

"Ah. Don't know much about the Force," Han muttered as he broke her gaze and looked away. "Hokey religion and nonsense to me."

For a moment, Roganda thought she'd seen pain reflected in his eyes, and it made her wonder. What had his life been like before she'd met up with him? She frowned. "No, Solo. It's very real... it's in all of us. In everything." She picked up the cup of caf with her free hand. "Even in this."

Han turned back to stare at her as she finally allowed herself to drink the caf. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is... I've had better caf. Way better," she said as she winked at him and he chuckled.

"I figure that's an indicator of how good this place is."

"No, I got that from the mesh table top. Nice dive you found on Solstice Eve, Solo."

Han shook his head as he leaned closer. "No, calling it a dive would elevate it six notches. I've been in places that were dives... they have better caf."

She set the cup down and leaned closer to him, purposefully copying his body language. "Oh really?"

"Really."

Roganda smiled, accepting the humor of that statement. "Thank you." And then she kissed him.

 

Poor Roganda, loosing your son like that.

Nice story meeting Han and Chewie

 

Wonderful to see Han's compassionate side... and I like the way you portray Roganda. Her character's more sympathetic this way.

 

This was absolutely wonderful! My favorite line: "Lady, I live crazy on a daily basis."

Oh how true!

Beautifully done.

 

earlybird-obi-wan: Thank you.

Jade_eyes: It was the only way I could see her character in a favorable light. Thank you, Jade_eyes.

VaderLVR64: Wasn't totally certain about that line. Thank you, ma'am.

 

A/N: After much encouragement, I decided to continue. (Also, I found more story parts when I was looking for something else. Onward!)


Detour To Hoth



She was tracing shapes on the Dejarik table when he entered the hold and set a bundle down beside her. "Not hungry."

"It's not food, Lady Ismaren. We'll be landing soon and it's cold. This is a jacket and warm boots for you."

Roganda glanced at the bundle. "How cold?"

"It snows year round."

She watched him go and then pulled the bundle closer and opened it. Not only did it contain a warm jacket, but it was a heavy-duty one! Which made sense, really, if it snowed year round. And the boots were a size too big, but they'd do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Walking down the entry ramp to the Falcon and into a busy hangar, she couldn't help but blink at all the activity. And the uniformity of the clothing. She'd expected smugglers or something similar. Not this. Were these... Rebels? "Solo?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me this isn't the Rebel Alliance." She glanced at him, hoping for a negative shake of the head, and instead saw only confirmation. Her first instinct was to march right back up the ramp and forget she knew this place existed. To forget that it was a Rebel sympathizer who had offered her a place to be. "It is?"

"Yes."

"I shouldn't be here."

He stared at her, unblinking. "Then where would you go? Back where I found you?"

"Anywhere else."

"Why?"

She opened her mouth to retort, to say something, but stopped at the expression in his eyes. At the reminder of what had brought her here. The deceit. The lies. The pain. "Because."

Han shook his head slowly. "Because is not a good enough reason and can mean a lot of things. Hungry?"

"No."

At the rumble of her stomach, he frowned at her knowingly. "Well I am. Let's go."

Following him, she hugged the jacket closer and shivered against the chill. Wherever this was, it was very, very cold. And this was just the hangar bay! "Cold here."

"Yes," he gritted out.

"Going to tell me where?"

"No."

Frustrated, Roganda rolled her eyes and followed him around a corner, into the mess hall... and bumped into someone. She blinked and stared at the man in the grey fatigues. "Watch where you're going."

The man shook his head slowly, smiled. "I'll try to be more careful."

She frowned at him, at once finding the guy kind of cute, but also wanting to get as far away from him as possible. Maybe it was the smile. His very cute and inviting smile... "Thank you." Stepping around him, she continued to follow Han, who had stopped to watch. "What?"

Han's eyebrows were raised, but he nodded in greeting to the man obviously still standing behind her. "Janson."

The man had the nerve to chuckle. "Solo. Good supply run?"

"Not really. Luke and the Princess around?"

Roganda blinked in surprise at his wording. Princess? No. It couldn't be. Could it?

"Just got back yesterday."

"Oh? Good." Han's eyes flickered to her, and she glared at him. "Roganda, this is Wes Janson."

"We've met," Roganda told him, her voice tight with frustration. Now she knew he was doing this to annoy her. At his mild glare, she turned to face Janson and stuck out a hand. "Roganda Ismaren." He shook her hand, nodded to Han, and left them alone. Slowly, she turned to face him again. "Was that necessary?"

"You'll be meeting lots of people, Lady Ismaren. Some of them prank-loving pilots." With that, Han pivoted on his heel and led the way to the food.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Leia looked up from reading an Alliance report to find Han Solo had arrived in the makeshift mess hall and was presently getting himself something to eat. When he turned around, she could see the amused expression on his face. She frowned, taking in the normality that had been lacking since arriving back on Hoth. Then she saw the woman following him and dropped the datapad in shock.

Blinking at the sound, she tore her gaze from the woman and picked the datapad back up. She stared at it for long moments, at first believing she'd been seeing things, that she hadn't seen who she thought she saw...

"Leia?"

Leia forced herself not to jump at the sudden intrusion, reminding herself it was a small mess hall. She raised her head to find Han standing there with a puzzled and curious expression on his face, and that impossibility of a person beside him, who was now staring back at her with as much shock as she herself felt. "Back so soon, Captain?"

His posture relaxed, though his expression didn't change. "Can't seem to stay away, your worship."

Oh, good. He was going to follow her lead. She glanced at his companion. "And your friend?"

His smile was pained and made her curious. "Long story." He opened his mouth to say more, but the woman interrupted him.

"Princess Senator Organa?" The woman asked, shock as clearly in her voice as it had been on her face. "So... this is where you disappeared off to."

Han blinked and slowly turned to look at her. "You know Leia?"

"Yes," Leia told him, saving Roganda from saying anything else. "We know each other. She was... an aide in the Senate. Good to see you again, Roganda." She motioned to the table. "Join me? Both of you?" Roganda nodded and pulled up a chair, setting her tray on the table, and mouthed 'thank you' to her. Leia simply nodded and glanced up at Han in question.

After a moment, he acquiesced and joined them as well. There were questions in his eyes, and Leia would make it a point to find some way to answer them.

Something occurred to her as she looked at Roganda over the top of the datapad. Someone was missing. Glancing at Han, she motioned with her eyes to the other woman, and he shook his head slightly. Ah. Not now. Nodding, Leia let them eat in peace, watching all the while as Roganda didn't seem to want to eat, and Han glared at her until she started eating again.

~*~*~*~*~*~​

Leia was trying to make small talk and failing miserably when Roganda pulled something from her pocket, set it on the table between them. Leia stared uncomprehendingly at the device for a minute before meeting Roganda's steady gaze.

"I won't be needing it," the other woman told her succinctly, simply, and began to eat again.

Leia's gaze moved to Han, who was staring at the device with an expression of quizzical interest. "You know what it is."

Han nodded. "Long range, military grade communications device. The kind that comes with a tracking beacon." He glanced at Roganda. "Why didn't you tell me you had one of these?"

She tilted her head, studying him with an air that suddenly made him want to back far away from her. Really far. Tatooine wouldn't have been far enough. "Do you show all your cards, all the time, Captain?"

"No."

Roganda nodded. "There's your answer. Princess, with your permission, I'd like it destroyed." She took a bite, chewed, swallowed. Stared at her fork for a long moment, as if just now realizing she was holding one, blinked, and looked at Leia. "I have no reason to return to Coruscant. Nor do I want to."

Leia nodded to the device. "Is it active?"

"No."

"Then keep it for now and we'll see about destroying it."

"Is this seat taken?" a young man asked as he sat down next to Leia with a tray, completely missing the device and Roganda quickly putting it back into her pocket.

Han chuckled as he took in the melting snow on Luke's cold weather gear. "No, it's not taken, Kid. Patrol?" Luke nodded and began to eat before realizing there was an extra person seated next to Han. He looked at Han in question. "Long story," Han told him. "Roganda, this is Luke Skywalker."

Roganda studied the young man for a moment or two, eyes glinting in curiosity. Was this...? No. He seemed far too young and earnest to have taken out the Death Star. "Pleased to meet you." He nodded in response and resumed eating, the kind of reaction which normally would have amused her, but now was only irritating. How could they be so... normal?

Years from now...

Roganda followed Mara's gaze to her hands and nodded. "I didn't get these trying to break out of anything."

"What?"

"I was angry. Lost. Confused about why these people who didn't know me from a hole in the wall were being so nice and supportive." A chuckle escaped her lips. "I'm still not sure who was more shocked: me or Wes."

Mara frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

Roganda met her gaze squarely. "Have you ever been so angry you wanted to kick rocks until you broke every bone in both feet?"

That question drew Mara up short. "I... once."

Roganda held up a scarred hand. "That's how this happened. I was angry and confused and the walls were made of ice. Wes had to tackle me to the ground."

Ailee, who had been silent up until now, sighed. "Ice walls? Roganda, really."

"Is that why Solo wanted you to work with a punching bag?" Mara wondered.

Roganda nodded. "It was. It's also the reason I never get out of talking about anything. Because I once didn't and nearly broke every bone in both hands."

Now...

He was on his way back from a briefing when he heard it: a grunting, rhythmic sound filled with pain that made his skin crawl. Frowning, he rounded the next turn... and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a woman punching a wall repeatedly. Shocked that anyone would do such a thing, especially here where the walls had been carved into the snow and hardened for stability, he could only stare for long moments.

Suddenly, she started screaming unintelligibly with each punch and he found himself spurred into action, tackling her to the ground faster than he really had time to think about it. Stunned, he sat there on the ground, holding her firmly as she started to weep inconsolably.

In minutes that felt like years, another person had joined them and helped him get her up off the cold ground. Carefully, they led her to medical without looking back at the stained icy wall that was the only evidence of her outburst aside from her mangled hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

She was silent as the 2-1B unit made her soak both hands in a Bacta bath, and Wes was left to wonder what it was that had made her so emotional. She didn't exactly seem the type to have a psychotic break.

She glanced at him, looked away. "Thank you."

"For tackling you?"

"Yes." Roganda glanced at him again. "Why help me? You don't know me."

Wes pushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "I know enough, and why not?"

"I could be the enemy, for all you know."

He studied her for a moment. "Are you?"

She looked away with a sigh. "Not now."

That was enough to make him wonder about where she'd come from, what kind of things she had done in her life before ending up on Hoth with the Rebel Alliance. "Then you're not the enemy."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You don't have to sit here with me. It's just a Bacta bath."

"I was just getting off shift. Here is as good a place as any." And now he was interested... really interested. She'd gone from hitting a wall with her bare hands, to weeping in his arms, to flirting with him while her hands were soaking in Bacta in less than an hour.

"Why is everyone so nice?" she asked suddenly, making him blink in curiosity. "Even the mechanicals are nice!"

Wes frowned at her. "Have you given us reason not to be?"

"I guess not."

"There's your answer."

She shrugged and stared at her hands for a minute. "That is a point, isn't it?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Han was fixing something in the Falcon's galley when Roganda turned up with bandaged hands, and he frowned at her in passing. "What happened to you?"

She sighed, held up a hand. "This could have been avoided if you'd let me kick something before."

He chuckled. "Hungry?"

She eyed what he'd made, shuddered. "I'll pass."

"Be glad it's not ice chips." At her frown, Han sobered and gave a shrug. "Lockdown. No supplies. After that, anything looks good."

She stared at him for a moment, not quite believing what he'd just said. "Is everyone around here a comedian?"

"Seems that way sometimes, doesn't it?" Studying her, Han set down his sandwich and leaned against the bulkhead. "It's more than wanting to hit something, isn't it?"

She sighed again. "Everyone here has been so nice. Too nice. It's weird."

Han shook his head slowly, picked the sandwich back up, and left the galley, munching as he went. Finishing it, he glanced around to see that she'd followed him. "Would it make you feel better if they weren't?"

"Maybe. I don't deserve everyone being so nice to me!"

Han didn't immediately respond, but instead lowered himself into an access hole. Looking down at the part that had failed, he sighed. "Hand me a hydrospanner, would you?"

Gingerly, she did so. "Here. You really should have let me kick those rocks, Captain. Ow."

Han paused and looked up at her. "Oh?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Next time you want to kick something, I won't stop you."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

The sincerity in his eyes made her smile. "Good."

"Even if that something you want to kick is a bulkhead."

She blinked at his wording. "Thank you."

They spent the next hour or so working on the ship.

 

A/N: The previous parts of this story were posted in separate threads before the move. I'm fixing that now, and... honestly, I wasn't expecting Roganda Ismaren when I finally got unstuck. Maybe I should have.

Tags: @earlybird-obi-wan @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha (I'm still wondering who Ayesha is, by the way...)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Something had been nagging at her all afternoon. It was just out of her perception, she realized, as she worked on a mechanism that usually stabilized the gravity in the upper gun turret. Frowning at it, Roganda sighed. "It's not this thing." Then the freshly healed scars on her hands caught her attention for a moment, and she sighed again. Was it too much to ask for... then she blinked, the nagging feeling intensifying.

She knew this feeling. Knew what it was, that she should answer it. Should, but if she did, she wouldn't be able to lie to him. She never could lie. Especially not to him. He'd know if she lied, and then she'd pay for it. They all would.

Closing her eyes, Roganda took a deep breath, in and out and leaned back against the bulkhead to steady herself. A hesitant, low bark sounded and she laughed. "I'm fine, big guy. Just need a minute." Chewbacca grunted and poked at her arm until she looked at him. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm fine, just a bit overwhelmed." The nagging finally let up and she took another deep breath, letting the stress ebb out of her body. "I can't figure out what's wrong with this thing, and the gravity change seems normal."

Chewie huffed and joined her in looking at it, adjusted a few things here and there, and nodded in satisfaction.

A few hours later found them on top of the ship, working together to solve another problem, when they both heard very familiar arguing, and Roganda looked up to find Han striding toward them, purpose in his steps before he disappeared from view. She saw Leia in the passage way, and nudged Chewie. "What do you think? Could you use a good kiss?"

Chewie made a grunt that almost sounded like "I'm married," and Roganda laughed, the momentary levity a nice distraction from a different nagging feeling that had been building at the edge of her perception, all over again, for more than an hour.

Less than an hour later, and Han telling them to get the ship ready for take off quickly, found Roganda watching as Threepio came to ask about Luke's whereabouts and Han ran off to check. She looked down at the landing strut, noticed the crack in it, and went to find some sealant. She couldn't solve whatever it was, but this... this she could fix.

 

Fantastic as Roganda is welcomed by everyone to her surprise, and the burgeoning friendship with Wes, who I'm glad to see can be serious, naturally. He just likes to be the pranking Rogue LOL

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha ...yes. Yes he does. Thank you!

A/N: Our MMM challenge was Just A Touch, no matter what kind? Okay...

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~​

The nagging feeling turned out to be a missing man, and they'd had to close the shield doors before Han reported in, and now she was still sitting next to the landing strut, putting sealant on the crack. Did the stuff work in temperatures this cold, did it need to be heated and then cooled to work? The wookiee hadn't said one way or the other, and maybe it didn't matter.

"Roganda?"

"It's cracked," she said without looking up, knowing full well that she probably made a miserable picture, sitting in the snow and ice of the maintainance bay. "Had to get a sealant to fix it. Must have been the cold."

She felt, rather than saw, him sit down beside her, and didn't have to look at him to know he was frowning. "Is it the landing strut or something else?"

"Not now, Janson." And then she yelped in surprise when he took the sealant tool out of her hands. "Hey!"

"Yes. Now," Wes told her firmly. "Can't have you beating up the walls or the Falcon's landing struts. Plus, Chewie is worried about you, but is keeping his distance."

She blinked and turned to find the Wookiee over by one of the x-wings, watching her. Roganda waved him off and made a motion that he should go eat. Chewie nodded and left them to it. She sighed and glanced defeatedly toward the closed shield doors. "I don't want to talk about it."

Wes touched her arm carefully, causing her to look at him, where she found only understanding in his dark eyes. "I'm not asking you to, but you can't keep it inside either."

She glanced down at her own hands, at the reminders written across her knuckles in scar tissue. It had been weeks, but even now she remembered the pain. Then she took a deep breath and peered again over at the shield door, shut firmly against the cold night of the ice planet. "I'm worried." Also, and she wasn't sure how to put it into words he would understand, but the nagging from without had returned. Quieter now, as if it was unsure, but there.

He nodded. "Only natural. I'm worried, too."

She wanted to get up, to leave him sitting here, but his hand on her arm kept her seated on the cold ground. "Janson?"

"Hmmmm?"

"You cold?"

He laughed at that and finally let go of her arm. "It's always cold here."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

His question, as open-ended as it was, brought her up short, a reminder that in this place, among these people who had found a cause and formed an odd sort of family, that she still did not trust anyone. Not even the pilot sitting patiently beside her in the ice. The only person she marginally trusted was out there somewhere, wandering around in a blizzard, looking for an earnest farmkid. "I meant... I don't know."

"Come on then," Wes said as he stood up and offered her a hand. "Let's get you something to eat."

She stared at his hand, dubious that he was trying to make nice, still. "I'm not hungry."

"Pretend you are." Right then, her stomach growled, betraying her, and Wes smirked. "It has to be better than trying to fix the landing strut when it's not really broken."

Roganda looked again at the still-visible but sealed crack. He had a point there. "It's the principle of the thing, and it was nice to find something that wasn't a wiring problem on this rat trap he calls a ship."

"I'll tell Captain Solo you said that. Also, you're stalling."

The tone in his voice made her want to laugh as she fingered the crack, testing the seal. "If you do, it'll be you locked in a closet with Chewie, even though he's married and doesn't need a good kiss. Still not hungry."

"And you can't keep hiding out here in the maintenance bay, either."

"Not hiding. Waiting."

"All night?"

"If need be." Roganda glanced up at him, at how his hand was still stretched out to her, waiting. "I'm fine here."

Wes sighed and lowered his hand. "Then I'm waiting with you. Right here." He dragged a crate over and sat down again. "If you don't mind, Lady Ismaren."

"Don't call me that," she said, her own tone surprising herself at how venomous she sounded. She blinked, startled to realize she meant it. After all, no one had called her Lady since the groundquake... did she have any right to claim such a title?

He sat with her for an hour, waiting her out while she let herself be distracted, ignoring her increasing hunger pangs while still inspecting the landing strut. Finally she turned her attention to him again. "You know, I think I will take you up on that offer." She slowly stood up, blinking at the stiffness in her knees. Had she been sitting that long?

Wes stood up as well, nodding. "Late dinner, then?"

"Anything, so long as it isn't ice chips." She frowned at him when an expression of repressed laughter all but shined from his eyes. "What's so funny?"

He simply shook his head, took her hand gently, and led her the cafeteria.

 

Great moment of friendship and helping her feel more at ease. Nice use of the "touch" prompt.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha ...you know what I wanted on this story that in reviewing Crowded Tables suddenly realized I couldn't do? AT-AV. (Which... darn it.) Thank you.

 

A/N: Many bounce-outs of my own story later... is this an update? Yes. This is an update.
Thank you to @DarthIshtar for the permission to use the Alderaani Dialect Thon Taiald. Much appreciated.

tag: @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

She'd joined the men of Rogue Squadron at a table in the mess hall out of habit, wanting to spend as much time with Tycho as she could while at Echo Base. Her orders were to leave in the morning, but for now... now they were worried, and rightfully so, about their missing Commander. She carefully grasped Tycho's hand and he smiled back at her. "I picked a heck of a time to visit between missions."

Wedge, further down the table, simply nodded, and then his facial expression softened slightly. "I wonder how he actually managed to get her to stop doing repairs?"

Winter frowned at him, then turned to follow his line of sight, only to frown again at seeing a woman she'd never expected to find among the Rebel Alliance, holding hands with Wes Janson as he led her to their table. "Lady Ismaren?"

She winced at the title, then sat and stared at her hands. "Don't call me that. And of course you would be here, too, if Princess Organa is. Hello, Lady Retrac."

"I'm leaving in the morning," Winter mentioned, befuddled at how out of sorts she was, and confused as to why a courtesan from the Imperial Court was here, dressed so plainly, with hair so un-styled and ordinary.

"Oh." Roganda raised her head to find the pilots watching her, sighed, and returned to looking at her hands. "I'm fine. No need to stare, Gentlemen."

"No, no," Tycho said, with an amused tone in his voice. "We just aren't used to seeing you without a hydrospanner in your hand and Chewie at your side, working on a problem with Solo's ship."

Wes returned right then with a tray of food and a ration bar for himself. He set the tray down in front of Roganda, who stared down at it instead of her hands, and then sat down himself. "Eat."

Roganda frowned. "Every meal seems to be some kind of fish derivative. Why is that? Did they find an undersea ocean on this iceball?"

Now Wedge laughed. "No, but there is a planet whose main export is fish in the sector. Not telling you where or which one."

"Better that you don't," Roganda agreed. "The fewer that actually know, the better. And at least it's not the ice chips you all keep joking about."

Now Dak, a pilot Winter wasn't really all that familiar with, laughed. "Oh, that wasn't a joke. It was quarantine. It's funny now, but..."

Roganda nodded and began to eat as she'd been told to. Then she paused and looked up at them again. "Why are all of you in here together? Shouldn't at least some of you be getting some sleep?"

"Too worried," Hobbie admitted, startling Winter at the sound of his voice, because he'd been so quiet up until now. "Luke's from Tatooine and still doesn't tolerate cold very well, though you'd never know it watching him."

Roganda paused again, then looked over Winter's shoulder. "What do you think, Senator Organa? Should most of these guys go to bed?"

Winter turned, suddenly realizing she had been so focused on Roganda that she'd not been observant of their surroundings. Leia was seated at the next table with the Wookiee, a sheet of flimsy and a pen between them.

Leia smiled at the expression on Winter's face, and then nodded in affirmation. "Yes. Nothing is going to happen tonight. Bed, most of you."

Winter grabbed Tycho's hand, silently making him stay as most of Rogue Group got up to leave the mess hall, albeit reluctantly. Left behind were Wedge, Wes, Hobbie, and Tycho. She frowned at Hobbie, who simply shrugged.

"I was on Dawn Patrol," Hobbie explained. "I was just waking up when Solo rushed out of here."

"Oh." They lapsed into silence as Wes chewed on his ration bar and Roganda ate reluctantly. When she was done, she pushed the tray aside and resumed staring at her hands, which Winter now realized were noticeably scarred. What had gone on, that both of her hands looked like that? She wanted to ask, but was startled at the sharp intake of breath and then Roganda was massaging her temples and muttering under her breath. Winter felt, rather than saw, Tycho tense up, and Leia joined them at the table.

"Roganda?" Leia asked carefully.

No immediate answer came, and then the muttering got louder and more distinct, and Winter froze. She knew that dialect. She hadn't realized, until just this moment, how much she had yearned to hear it spoken. "Um... is she calling the Emperor a nag repeatedly, or am I imagining it?"

"Among other things," Tycho confirmed as he caught Wes's gaze. "Did you know she was from Alderaan?"

Wes shook his head. "No. She has been so focused on just keeping busy that we hadn't talked much." He started to reach over, to get Roganda's attention, but Leia stopped him.

"Let her," Leia said, emotion in her voice so thick that Winter wanted to give her a hug. "It is a privilege to hear someone, anyone, swearing in Thon Taiald. Let her say what she wants."

Winter nodded in agreement. Not only did she know that dialect, but it was the one she had taught to Leia that her own mother had spoken. It was, indeed, a privilege to hear it... even if Roganda needed help with pronunciation. "She can't have been that old."

Tycho frowned at her. "What?"

"Her structure is off..." Winter reached across to catch one of Roganda's hands, and when the woman looked at her with pained eyes, she asked a question in the dialect. Roganda's answer was short, to the point, and for a moment, Winter felt like she was staring back at a young girl of nine or ten rather than the adult woman in front of her. [["Oh. That young. I'm sorry."]] Roganda tried pulling her hand out of Winter's firm grasp, but Winter held firm and held eye contact with her. She wasn't sure what this was, but it felt really important to lend her full and total support now.

One by one, Tycho, Wedge, Wes, Leia, Hobbie, and Chewbacca laid their hands on top of Winter's, lending their own silent support, and Roganda blinked, startled at them all. "I... I..." Chewbacca grunted at her, and Roganda took a deep breath, then let it out. "Can't."

"Can't what?" Wes asked, tone both curious and gentle. "It's just us, of course you can."

"Talk," she ground out. She winced, but held Winter's gaze. [["Master Ameesa told me loyalty was everything. Always."]]

Leia suddenly nudged Chewie, who looked at her. "Flimsy. Now." Chewie stared at her, and, carefully removing his furry hand from the pile and went to get the requested item. He brought it back, and set it so Leia could write with her free hand, and then slid the flimsy into Winter's line of sight.

Winter glanced down at it quickly... 'Ameesa Darys, another supposed courtesan. Probably actually also Imperial Secret Service. Ask how this Ameesa is her Master.' She frowned in confusion, then realized what needed to be asked. She met Roganda's pained gaze again. [["How is Ameesa your Master? And why?"]]

[["Has been since Lagan died. She did it."]] There was the young girl, buried deep inside, again as Roganda paled and had to take another deep breath, and squeezed Winter's hand tighter. [["Since Masana and Eris never came back. Never saw again. Since Belsavis."]]

"Belsavis?" Winter asked, in basic for Wedge, Wes, and Hobbie, so they could follow along, however minutely. [["What about Belsavis?"]]

[["Sheltered. Secret. Until... weren't."]]

Winter dared to look at Leia, to find her writing again, and then the Flimsy was back... 'That's enough. Guide her back to the now. If you can.' She nodded, and was about to do exactly that when Roganda yawned, blinked, and shook her head. Just as suddenly as it started, the little girl vanished again beneath the surface.

Roganda frowned, looked at Leia. "Princess, if you don't mind? My head hurts, and-"

Leia nodded, and they all let go, except for Winter, who was still puzzled at the difference between the personas. "It is getting late, and we have much to do tomorrow."

Winter finally let go and watched as the woman slowly got to her feet, nodded to Wes, and let Chewbacca lead her out of the mess hall. "What was that?"

"That," Leia told her, her voice firm. "Is more questions than answers, given how young she must have been." She muttered a prayer under her breath, and Tycho and Winter joined her. Here, in the presence of a Corellian, a man from Taanab, and a native to Ralltiir, three Alderaanians gave thanks that they could add one more to their number.

 

Belsavis? Yeah, Buttheadus? This is, cool.

 

Very intriguing back story for roganda

 

@Vek Talis ...yep. Belsavis. Funnily enough, also an ice planet. Thank you.

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha ...this is very odd for me, because I know what her progression leads to later on, but right here? She is so not that person yet that can actually talk about Lagan and Plett's Well. All about the backstory. Thank you.

 

On the subject of story continuity... So They Met In A Bar takes place about this SAME time in the timeline. Ten or so year Causality Loop begun... and NOW time is officially bent. (If it wasn't already, that is.)

Tags: @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha , @Vek Talis

~*~*~*~*~​

In the crew quarters cabin onboard the Millennium Falcon, Chewbacca, Chewie to his friends, couldn't help but wonder as he helped her to a bed. She'd been leaning heavily into him since they'd left the mess hall, spent from what he suspected was some kind of flashback but hadn't been able to ask because she didn't understand Shyriiwook very well.

Roganda sat on the bed and blinked up at him, as if she wasn't sure what to say herself. "Thank you."

Chewie inclined his head, studying her. Her eyes were haunted, but pinched, and she was squinting, and she was paler than he had ever seen her in the weeks since she had joined their motley crew. He again wanted to ask her some questions, but didn't move to get the erase-able flimsie board they'd been using to communicate with in Basic. If she truly had a headache, reading might make it worse. In the end, he nodded, and pointed to the bed with a grunt.

Roganda nodded, but didn't yet lay down. "He's going to be there if I sleep. They both are."

That caused him to stare at her. What? What was that supposed to mean?

"I can feel it, the nagging, the reaching out so I'll reach back and answer. It's dangerous." Her head snapped to the left and she stared at the bulkhead for a minute, frowning. Then she smiled, just as suddenly. "They're okay." And then she was massaging her temples again, which she had done in the mess hall, and taking deep breaths.

Slowly, as he'd seen Winter do, he sat on the floor in front of her and caught one of her hands in his furry ones. He woofed a question at her in his mother tongue, knowing she wouldn't get it entirely, but that didn't matter.

The smile that graced her pained face was answer enough. "Stay?" He nodded and she laid down, still holding his hand. In minutes, Roganda was asleep, and Chewie was left to wonder just what she meant by anyone being there when she slept.

He sat there a long while, next to the bunk, holding her hand.


On Coruscant, Palpatine was left blinking at the sudden dream-like mental image of Pittens playing with children in an underground cavern with a garden. What or how was that an answer to his mental summons that had so far gone ignored?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

On Sacorria, a flash of light deposits a screaming woman wearing a kimono that is on fire into an alley. She sits there, breathing hard, patting herself down to put the flames out, and can only stare toward the open end of the alley. Were those really big Otters, walking upright?

Eventually she stands, unconsciously pulls a cloak around herself, and unknowingly leaves a piece of clothing behind as she walks off into the evening of Dorthus Tal.


Elsewhere in Dorthus Tal, as a man and a woman play a friendly round of Go Fish between themselves, both are startled by a sudden jangling but faint alarm coming from the open door to their basement. They stare at each other in disbelief before the man laughs. "Well, it is why we're here. Go on."

The woman looked down at her cards. "Do you have any threes?"

"Rala..."

"What? One more minute of normal. Threes, Whuki."

"Go fish."

She reached for a card, sighed at the five she drew, and stood up from the table. "The most ridiculous thing is that I want to cross my own timeline and catch Susan in the act of investigating this tomorrow or the day after while wearing very obvious orange clothing, and she hasn't even done it yet."

Whuki's green-tinted lips twitched at the attempt of humor. "I'm glad that isn't the only ridiculous part of what we're doing here. I was starting to worry."

She sighed again. "Or it could also be that I want to send a coded message to Hoth and tell them to evac early, but we can't do that either. I hate not being able to interfere. Stupid causality rules."

Whuki glanced at the cards he was still holding. Suddenly, he wanted another minute of normal, too. "Do you have any fours?"

"One of us has to deal with that alarm, you know." He raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. "Oh... actually yes."

"Probably we should also go out and find your mom's twin."

Rala glanced at the open door to the basement, where the alarm was still sounding. "She'll be fine. Probably... or we'll end up with an explosion and everybody on a high security alert from the Garrison for a month or two. Or both, and I'll regret letting it happen." He glared at her. "What?"

"We have the strangest problems."

"I absorb light and you shape shift."

"Good point."

Eventually, they dealt with the jangling alarm. Rala's guess about the Garrison going on high alert after a suspicious explosion proved prophetic.


In Wild Space, beyond the Outer Rim, a fleet is pushed... and vanishes.


And in the Deep Core Security Zone, in the Beshqek System, on Byss, where time is now crawling at a snail's pace, medics begin to notice something off about their growing, sleeping charges...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Many hours, a welcome rescue, and a medical check later, Han was standing with Leia and Chewie, watching as Luke hung, occasionally thrashing in Echo Base's bacta tank. Aside from Artoo beeping, it was relatively quiet. Relatively, because Threepio had yet to say anything while they waited.

The quiet gave him time to think and look around and realize that they were short a person. In fact, he hadn't seen her yet at all. "Chewie? Where's-" Chewie's short explanation made him turn and look at the Wookiee in question. "Sleeping?"

"Probably because she hasn't been sleeping well," Leia muttered, and Han turned to look at her funny. "Later."

Later turned out to be MUCH later.

 

A/N: Thank you to DarthIshtar for the beta and the use again of Thon Taiald.



Seven Years Ago...


She'd been talking, mingling with Senators and Court Functionaries for the better part of the evening, as per her cover as a courtesan close to the Emperor when something painful tore through her mental shields. Nothing had changed in the Palace ballroom, but it felt in that moment as if the world had fallen out from beneath her feet, and she stumbled, caught herself on a nearby table, and let out an uncultured, noticeable gasp. The presence faded quickly, and Roganda stared at the floor. "What-"

"May I have this dance?" A blessedly familiar voice asked, and Roganda let him sweep her away from the prying eyes of the court and out onto the floor. "I'll lead."

"Good," she whispered, welcoming the strength he offered. He should have been schmoozing, appealing to a young widow of the court, but it didn't break his cover if they shared a dance. "I... I don't know what just happened."

"We'll figure it out," Quest told her, and swung her around so she could see their Emperor, watching them from the long table, astute, yellowed eyes missing nothing as always. "No one else reacted. Only you."

"I'm fine," she verbalized, knowing he was waiting for an answer that she didn't have yet. What had hit her so suddenly, and then just as suddenly vanished? She scanned the crowd as they whirled past, trying and failing to figure it out.

"Lie to me if you must," Quest told her gently. "But not to yourself. Something personal? Close to you?"

She didn't dare react outwardly to that suggestion. No, her control was too good for that. Instead, she held onto his hands, anchoring herself even as they moved, and reached out to find what was different. And that was when she noticed both a blinking blue-colored light on her wrist-mounted comms unit that was disguised as jewelry, and also that someone was missing, and her world shifted again. "Oh."

"Lady Ismaren?"

In that moment she knew what had broken through. Later, she would hear the story from Inquisitor Tremayne of how her mentor died in combat, but right then on the dance floor, she simply allowed Quest continue to lead.


Five Years Ago...


Quietly, silently, he slipped into her room, wanting to see their newborn son and his love, even though they could never publically admit anything of the sort.

Sitting down on the bed, he studied her sleeping face, and mussed black hair. He marveled at how beautiful she looked without any court finery. Indeed, it had not been the fancy clothes that had led to their liaison, but rather something plain while on covert ops, hair unkempt, and dirty. Presently, he felt her brush against him with a silent hello, and Quest smiled.

Rising from sleep, her eyes blinked open and she smiled back tiredly. "My Rakos."

He nodded to the bassinet next to the bed where their son was sleeping. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here."

"You're here now." She watched as he gently and carefully lifted their baby boy and cradled him. "He was amused at the rumors, you know."

Quest allowed a chuckle to escape his lips. "Of course he was." For a moment, he longed for the days of before, of normality and purpose. It had been years since he had thought of the Order, but that didn't mean in his shielded thoughts, he never yearned for it. Simpler times...

"Things seemed easier," Roganda murmured, at once reminding him that she could hear him through their bond, however tenuous. Her tone was wistful, not that of a Lady at Court. "And I barely remember it."

"Now who is the Rakos?" Quest teased, bringing up the nickname she only dared use in private between them in moments such as this.

She smiled again. "Always you."

"And sometimes you," he pointed out. "Such things-"

She sat up carefully, interrupting his lecture with a hand on his arm. "Here and now, it is just us, and we are allowed our own counsel. If it were treason to recall, then the court and the entire senate would be guilty. So many times."

He couldn't fault her logic. His attention was taken by Irek, so small in his arms, making a noise that might have been a laugh.


Weeks ago...


In an instant, she knew kissing him was wrong. In the moment, however, she relished the intimate contact and only broke it with reluctance. It had been long enough since she'd seen her mission partner, her Rakos, off on that odd-sounding mission to Corellia, that any kind of contact was welcome.

At Han's surly but chiding expression, Roganda ducked her head and couldn't meet his eyes. "Sorry."

Han chuckled, and in that sound she found relief in the welcome humor, even for just a moment. "It's been a day. I'm not going to hold it against you."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a patron watching them from the next table and momentarily wondered what they thought was happening here. "Think we could ask the bartender for something to improve this terrible excuse for caf?"

He chuckled again. "Probably. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace you'll wish had caf this bad." Standing, Han paused. "Not sure if lock down rations would be an improvement or not."

"What?"

She would wonder about that remark for a week.


Now...


Ripples
on a pond
spreading
ever
outward

Ripples
washing
and crashing
against the rocks
and the shore

Ripples
on the ground
in the snow
fighting
to hold back
the approaching tide

Ripples
in space
an order disobeyed
one life ends
another opportunity
for advancement

Ripples
on the snow
in the air
fighting
to hold back
the approaching tide

Ripples
asleep
on a bunk
missing
all the action
there will be
much confusion

Ripples
escape
evacuation
Imperial Forces
have entered the base
it is time
to go

Ripples
tere is no time
and no path
to the transport

Ripples
on a pond
spreading
ever outward

Ripples
and eddies
washing
and crashing
against rocks
on the shore


Years from now...


He didn't feel nearly as out of sorts the next time he woke... again in shackles, bound to the bed he was laying on. If it hadn't been so laughable, the prospect of such a thing, he'd have tried to force the locks open. As it was...

"No point," a familiar feminine voice spoke up, and he turned his head to find her seated in a chair next to the bed, datapad in hand, reading it calmly. "And if you try to escape again, it will be me catching you, Rakos."

"Lady Ismaren," he greeted, bristling at the familiar nickname of what felt like eons ago. Why was she wincing?

She paused in her reading to glance at him over the datapad, an annoyed expression on her face. "Really, Sarcev? Are we really going to be that formal?"

"You are being very familiar, and you had me drugged," Quest pointed out. "So... yes. And I still want answers. From you."

"Well, you kidnapped a friend of mine, and also tried kidnapping another friend's children, and I merely suggested that they might want to keep you drugged for their safety as well as yours. Answers about what?" At his naked, knowing gaze, Roganda sighed and set the datapad aside. "I thought you knew already."

"If I did, would I need to ask?"

She stared at him impassively for a moment or two, then nodded with another sigh. "If you mean Irek, it was a ground quake. Seven years ago."

Quest nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"About that, dear Rakos, you deserve my honesty." She frowned at him. "Where were you all this time, anyway?"

After so long missing her Force presence, he wanted to ask the same question. "Beshqek."

The frown deepened. "Really? For seven years?"

And now it was his turn to return the frown with one of his own. Surely it hadn't been that long. Had it? A meow drew his attention, and he blinked, confused at the oddness that he'd missed before... had that black juvenile kitten on her lap been here this whole time?

Roganda smiled and scratched it on the head, then surprised him by placing it on his chest. "You missed the ride back here to base, so... meet Stringy."

Quest stared at the kitten as it first stared right back at him with curious golden eyes, then proceeded to make itself comfortable on his chest. "Stringy?"

"Yes." She smirked at his confusion. "And that, Rakos, is a story I'm not going to tell you."

"Roganda?"

"Hmmm?"

"Stop calling me that."

"No," she said after a moment of silence. "You will always be my idiot, even if we lead very different lives."

Her wistful tone brought his attention back to her, and that was when he noticed the pained, faraway expression on her face. He wanted to ask more questions, but didn't dare. She would never tell him, and he could feel the pangs of long-ago memory radiating from her. The hints were enough... from the kitten with the really odd name, to the wedding ring currently hanging from a necklace, to what she'd said about different lives.

"Not all things are bad," he ventured.

Roganda blinked, startled by that, and then nodded. "No, not all things are. You're going to be interrogated again, by the way."

"Wonderful."

She paused, glanced at her pet companion. "But not, this time, now that we know about where you were on Byss and the problem with the clones, as an enemy combatant. As odd as it sounds, Vima-Da-Boda vouches for you." At his very confused expression, Roganda shrugged, as if an assumed-deceased Jedi vouching for anyone was completely normal. "We both fall into a special category, as it were. We, however improbable, survived the Purge. We served the same man. And you know things, about before. I'm guessing that Luke will want to have a long talk with you, when he finally realizes that's an option."

Of all the stupid, idiotic... was she actually suggesting what it sounded like she was? "Why?"

"Knowledge of any kind concerning the Jedi is important and an asset," she explained. "A fuller picture of the Order, even better."

Weirdly enough, that made total sense. How'd they get here from, as he remembered it, joining a squad bound for Coruscant covertly? He still wasn't sure about that part, and had been very confused at the original accusation of attempted kidnapping.

"Before any of that, however," Roganda said, interrupting his thoughts. "You have a medic to apologize to for attacking and inducing amnesia."

"I do?"

"Yes. You do." She paused. "Also? Shame on you for attacking my therapist, Sarcev. Seriously."

Her what? "You have a therapist?"

"That's an even longer story," she allowed, not looking at him. "And you need to be cleared before I even think about telling it to you." She held up a hand, showed him the faded scarring that spoke heavily of other things. "This is part of it, but not all of it."

Someday, he was going to understand her dancing around the subject, but right now and right here, he was confused. Very, very confused.


Now...


Sitting
at the bottom
of the well
someone
or something
is missing

Sitting
reaching out
gone
where are they?

Where
is her goofball?
Her moronic idiot?
he'd been here
at a distance
now he wasn't

Sitting
reaching out
grasping
at nothing
searching

Brushing
against
another person
another
point of light
following
at a distance
what was going on?

Sitting
feeling the nagging
calls
from without

Listening
as the Princess explains
the night before
that sounds
like it was two days ago

Listening
to the assumptions
oddly correct
from so little
information
shared

reaching out
to search again
still being followed
that part
seems really
really
important

Sitting
at the bottom
of the well
missing
someone
or something
important

~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Leia found him in the crew quarters area, seated next to Roganda with an odd expression on his face. Dismissing Han for a moment to really look at Roganda, who was clutching a coverlet to her chest, her back to a bulkhead, eyes staring at nothing, only blinking in reflex occasionally. "Han?"

Han shook his head in response. "Haven't gotten her to come around yet."

"Rakos," Roganda said suddenly, and it almost sounded like a question.

"That's the third time in ten minutes," Han explained, then glanced at her. "It's later, by the way."

Leia nodded and joined them on the bunk, on Roganda's other side. "Not much to tell, really. While you were out looking for Luke, I got a few answers to questions I've had. About her. One of those... she speaks in an Alderaani dialect. Badly, as if she wasn't very old the last time she had any instruction in it."

Han nodded slowly. "Alright..."

"Rakos," Roganda said again, startling both of them.

Leia frowned. For some reason, it felt really important, but she couldn't couldn't put her finger on why. "And now I want to know who or what she's calling an idiotic goof in Taiald."

"That's what this word means?"

"Yes." Leia let the silence linger for a minute, then forged ahead. "It's that, and the part where she said she'd been in hiding until someone I know to have been a courtesan that might have also been with Imperial Intelligence, found her and... killed someone in front of her. I'm not sure who Lagan was in this scenario."

Han digested that information with a nod. "That makes sense, actually."

"It does?"

"She kept asking how everyone could be so nice to her, and there was that comms device she tried to give to you, which is state of the art military grade."

There was also that detail, too, Leia thought as she tried to put what she suspected into words without it sounding too... off. "She also mentioned being in hiding on Belsavis, a Master Plett, and two people who, her words, 'never came back.' I'm still not sure what to make of it, but I can read between the lines of secret, in hiding, and that the secret might be that Master Plett was actually a possible Jedi."

Han nodded again, only to pause when he noticed Roganda was looking at him now. "Oh. Hey."

She studied him, then looked at Leia curiously, and then asked a question in Thon Taiald that gave Leia pause. ["Who are you?"]

Leia kept her expression neutral, though inside she was very confused at the question, more so than the use of the dialect. Winter had told her after of how it felt, looking at Roganda only to see a very young girl looking back at her. That was how it felt now, and it was downright eerie. ["A friend. Leia."] She motioned to Han. ["He is also your friend. Han."]

Her gaze, guileless and innocent, swept to Han and she nodded, accepting.

"Leia?" Han asked, only to stop at her shushing him with a finger to her lips.

["Where is here? Where is Lagan?"]

At that, Leia allowed herself to frown. She'd read about psychological cases in her studies of people in odd states of consciousness, but had never actually seen one first hand, and now the aspect of a young girl looking back at her made sense. ["How old are you?"] For Roganda in the mess hall had told them this Lagan had been killed, but now she was asking where he was?

Roganda finally let go of the coverlet to show her seven fingers. ["This old. Learning numbers. Math. Master Plett called important. Measurements, for plant things."]

So not only was this probably dissociation, but she was also mentally a child learning math. ["Can you speak Basic?"]

"Some," Roganda admitted. ["Encouraged to maintain what learned before."] And then she switched to Antibes Taiald... ["To honor lost, what came before. Before the Fall."]

Han raised his hand, and Leia nodded. He'd gotten that last part, and now she was wondering when he'd been to Alderaan to pick even a little of Taiald up. "Alright. Then you can honor the lost, and we will teach Han here how to speak conversational Taiald." She noticed Han looking at her funny, as if waiting for more detail, when he probably was. "She's seven and was learning math. Also... little one, who is Lagan?"

"Brother," Roganda answered, her voice taking on a lisp in basic, and Han frowned over her shoulder. "He's not here. Would know."

What was it about her lisping that had caused Han to react like that, Leia wondered as she nodded. "No, he isn't."

["Where here?"]

"Here," Leia told her with some humor as she motioned to Han. "Is his ship, the Millennium Falcon."

Now it was Roganda's turn to startle, though that reaction made no sense to either of them. "Ship? Not been on a ship since... hiding. Journey to hiding. Belsavis."

Leia again glanced at Han over Roganda's shoulder, met his gaze. "Right. And who is Master Plett?"

"He loves plants and his garden is pretty," Roganda answered as her eyes went distant for a moment. "Not here, either."

"No, we didn't also happen to escape with a gardener," Han told her with some humor. Roganda looked at him oddly. "I'll explain later, Ganda. So, are you hungry?" She nodded, and then blushed at her stomach rumbling. "Ah-hah! You are."

Leia watched as Han stood up, held out a hand, and Roganda hesitantly took it, and was immediately very glad that Threepio was still powered down. She could only imagine trying to explain this to the protocol droid.

 

Fascinating memories/back story and a future glimpse followed by a really intriguing regression!

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha Thank you.


A/N: So... couple things. One: the Wook (and I presume Barbara Hamby) did not name Roganda's Alderaani Jedi parents. With that in mind, there was a visit to an SW name generator. They now have names.
Two: Angst Warning, and also POV Warning as I finally managed the Writer's Workshop Challenge requirement of the POV one doesn't normally touch with a ten-foot pole. (This is, after all, the sister story of a story where that was a requirement. Might as well.)



Deep down
down in the well
well of soul
well
of memory
of things long ago

"Roga!"

Her head came up, and suddenly, she was in the underground cave on Belsavis, her brother calling her name. In that place she remembered only vaguely in the best of times, but now the flora that Master Plett had spent so much time nurturing was vibrant and colorful. She laughed, and ran after Lagan, who himself was chasing a Pitten.

Deep down
a little girl
now a woman
twirling
trying
to break free
break the surface
even for a moment

Left to her own devices, she slides to the deck and blinks at the warmth in the deck plates. For once it is quiet, and just as suddenly reality slides into place. Roganda takes a deep, shuddering breath, lets it out slowly to try to ease the pressure of her headache, and almost fails to notice the sound of footsteps.

"Ganda, if you're that tired, go back to your bunk."

She glares up at Han, at once wondering if he'd done a sensor sweep and wondering why she wanted to tell him to. "Warm deck plates."

He frowned. "Want a pillow?"

"No. Just... quiet."

Han pauses, taking in the fact that she hadn't moved yet. There was an odd expression on his face, as if she'd done something unexpected. "I'll see what we can do then, to keep the noise to a minimum."

She watches him go, then lets the vibration in the deck plates take her attention. Let it lull her into a kind of state where she could almost tolerate everything again. Had this month really happened? She wanted to forget all of it, forget the base, the Rebels... sitting amid the rubble of a ruined operating suite on a backwater world after a ground quake.

A soft, barked question and suddenly she was in a pair of very furry arms hyperventilating, fighting to stay afloat.

Deep down
unable
to warn
or scream

The compound is not one she has ever been to before and all of the occupants seem to be of the smuggler variety, Roganda observes as she stands unseen, watching events play out and wanting to intervene. It isn't any of the men that draw her attention, however... no, instead it's a woman with dark hair, wearing a smock that only serves to make her stand out even more in her unclothed state as she lays on a bedroll and catalogs something on a datapad while going through a medical kit. She seems either bored, or very detached, or both.

Roganda studies her for long moments, wondering why these people, whomever they are, would allow her to have a medical kit... until, that is, one of the captors, for she is sure that's what they are at this point, deposits one of the captives beside her bedroll, calls her 'Sugar', and orders her to see to her patient.

Sugar doesn't even look up.

"We don't have to let you be our medic, you know."

She still does not respond as she heaves herself up into a sitting position and studies the woman they had brought to her, who is looking back at her with wide eyes. In that moment, Sugar smiles, nods, and offers a hand. "I'm Sugar. You?"

At first, the other captive stares at her hand, then slowly takes it, trembling. "Ellma."

Roganda watched, perplexed, as Sugar began to treat Ellma for contusions and what sounded like a bacterial infection, but which also causes Sugar to briefly glare up at the man who has the sense to look away. What was an actual medic, clearly also a captive, even doing in a place like this? It made no sense. None.

As she watches, still not sure if this is a dream or not, it is repeated any number of times with a string of captives in varying states, both mentally and physically off.

At the end of the dream, if that is indeed what it was, Roganda welcomes blessed blankness and is left to question if any of it was real.

Deep down
shielded
from
the Nag

It was a rare day of being able to roam freely within the walls of the Imperial Palace that at times still did not feel like home, ten year old Roganda Ismaren reflected as she wandered the gardens. It was here, among the plants, that she felt most comfortable. Here, it felt safe. Here, she could indulge in the fantasy that none of the last three years had happened at all.

Here in the gardens, her Lagan was alive.

Shying away from memory that wanted to bubble up and overwhelm, she turned a corner, only to stop and stare at the sight of a girl, years younger than herself, seated on the path by a flower grouping that was very pretty... and crying.

Slowly, not wanting to upset her further, Roganda crept closer and the girl looked up, lower lip trembling. "Smells like home! Want to go home!"

Still moving slowly, Roganda joined her in sitting on the path. "This is home."

The red-headed girl shook her head. "No! I want my Momma! And Daddy!" She fingered one of the flowers, which Roganda now noticed were labeled 'Nubian Neandran Blossoms.' What was it about this plant?

"There you are," an adult voice that still gave Roganda shivers to hear, and she turned to find Inquisitor Darys, now her minder, if not her guardian, hovering over them.

"Want to go home," the girl said again, tone even more defiant, and Roganda winced at Ameesa's knowing glare.

"Roganda?" Ameesa prompted, voice tone about as warm as a salamander's backside. "What is going on here?"

She knew right then that an answer, any answer she gave would automatically be judged. Knew it, but would the truth really hurt? "She wants to go home?"

"Smells like home," the little girl added unhelpfully, which wasn't going to help either of them.

Ameesa Darys, never one to let an opportunity for teaching go to waste, especially when the lesson was sure to be a painful one, nodded slowly. "Right. Child, this is your home now."

"No it isn't!"

Roganda winced, but kept her silence. Then suddenly, Ameesa was nudging her. "What?"

"Help her up and follow me."

"But..." The dark expression that crossed the older woman's face made Roganda gulp and turn to hold out her hand. "Come on. Now." The girl stared first at her, then at Ameesa, then at Roganda again. "Please?"

"Want to go home," she said again, and reluctantly took her hand. "We go?"

"Yes," Ameesa said, very clearly lying through her perfect teeth, but Roganda knew better than to point this out. "Home it is."

The sound of sniffling followed them all the way to the Emperor's Office.

Deep down
in the well
well of soul
well of memory
things long ago
but close in mind
and memory

The rift valley they landed in wasn't the cold she'd expected from having seen the planet from orbit, six year old Roganda noticed as they filed off the ship. Her mother Nayva murmured at her in Taiald, and she nodded, agreeing to not stop and stare. There would be time enough for that later.

"Come on, Roga!" Lagan yelled, and pulled at her hand. "More room!"

Despite the fact that it had been un-Jedi to do such a thing at the Temple, she laughed and chased after her older brother.

Deep down
a woman
down in the well
lost
to time

Painful reality slid into place again, only now they were standing on a raised landing pad, being approached by a man in a cape, several guards, and a man... wait, was that a Cyborg Adjunct device? "Leia? Where are we?"

Leia spun to look at her, frowning, then nodded. "Bespin. They agreed to let us land and do repairs."

"More repairs?" She watched as the man in the cape greeted Han, at first in an adversarial manner, and then with hugging and laughter. "After-"

"Yes. More." Leia continued to frown at her. "You're not lisping."

Lisping? When did she lisp? Roganda blinked, startled by Han introducing Lando, and then Chewie pulling her gently away from him. In the next instant, she was lost again in the fog.

Deep down
down in the well
something familiar
and dangerous
close

Deep down
unable to warn
unable to speak
unable to break free
shielded
and hidden

It was different this time. This time, there was a small room with a door and two stools, one of which she was sitting on with her head in her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration. This, all of it, was so, so frustrating.

"You know how to get out," a familiar male voice spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. "Really, Kori. You're letting the puzzle defeat you."

At that, she blinked at her hands, confused at how someone deceased could be talking... and then she looked to find her father seated on the other stool, looking almost exactly as she'd last seen him... and was he holding one of the puzzle games from Plett's Well?

She gestured for it, and he handed the puzzle game sphere to her. "I remember this. Lag and I, chasing each other around inside."

"Yes," her father, whose name she now remembered was Tokrin, replied with a smile. "Always adventurous, you two."

"Him more than me."

At that, Tokrin laughed. "You were about equal when it came to adventure. You loved the cave network more than getting lost in the puzzle games, and he was better at sussing out the game and all it's tiny corridor mazes."

She paused, taking in the fact that he'd used a term of endearment instead of her name, and then looked at him again. "You're really here, aren't you?"

"I really am."

There were many things she wanted to ask, about Belsavis and The Order, but words failed her and she couldn't figure out where to start. "I..."

"We are not disappointed," Tokrin said into the silence, and forged ahead when she looked at him funny, for how could he possibly not be. "Not in you. Not ever. You survived and you are alive. That is the important thing. Finding your way back is another."

She sighed, taking the encouragement for what it was. "I keep getting lost."

"Not nearly as much as you think," Tokrin said, nodding to the door. "There are a lot of those. Doors and traps to trip you up, and for every bit of progress you make, you might, depending on the trigger in question, have a severe headache or odd symptoms in reaction. However, and this is very important: the traps and the doors are only as strong as you let them be, and your will is stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"That doesn't help me right now."

"Doesn't it?"

The question hung between them, almost like a dare. He was right, she allowed. It did help to know that the reason for her headaches had a name. "Dad?"

"Hmmm?"

"Dance with me?" At that suggestion, he smiled. "Just this once. To celebrate."

"Oh? And what exactly are we celebrating?"

Roganda paused, pocketing the puzzle game as a reminder. He had a good point, there. What did they have to celebrate in this instance, and why did she want to? Or was it really that simple? "That came out wrong. It's wrong to want to celebrate the death of anyone, no matter what they did." She frowned down at her hands, which in here were indeed scarred. "And while I do not actually wish her ill in the afterlife, Ameesa did raise me. Not perfectly, and I fear her memory more than she herself, but..."

Tokrin nodded. "At least you realize that." He stood up and held out a hand to her. "However... in this case, yes. She betrayed our Order. Many times."

Slowly, hesitantly, she took her father's hand and stood up to join him. "This is weird."

"Every now and then, weird is good, Kori."

Something about this was tugging at her memory as they prepared to dance. "We've done this before, haven't we?"

Tokrin smiled. "You weren't nearly as tall, little one, but yes. We have."

She allowed him to lead, and around them the door vanished and the room expanded as he led her, and then she led him across the dance floor, at once a little girl twirling in her father's embrace, and the woman she had grown into.

At the end of the dance, he kissed her on the forehead and then held her gaze. "I need you to understand something now, because it will be painful out there when you wake, Roga."

She winced at that, knowing that both her parents and her brother had always shortened her name in this manner. "I know."

"You need to tell them, the medic, three things in order for them to help you: conditioning, headache, and how bad the pain is. Do you understand?"

Roganda nodded, even if he wasn't really making any sense to her.

"Repeat it."

"Conditioning, headache, level of pain."

"Good." Tokrin let the silence hang between them, then glanced upwards with a surly expression. "And don't forget to shield, either."

"What?"

Tokrin sighed. "I can feel the summons. Insistent, isn't he?" At her wry expression, he laughed. "Of course you know that. He's been doing it to you. But that isn't why I suggest shielding. Someone else is close by. They don't know you're here."

She knew that, had known it since getting swept under the last time she'd surfaced briefly. "Thank you. Did I lisp?" Because, in the middle of all of this, what Leia had said about her suddenly not lisping made no sense otherwise.

"Yes, actually. As a child, you had a lisp." Then he squeezed her hand and let go. "Now go. No more hiding in here."

"But-"

Tokrin smiled. "We'll see each other again. Go. Be the Agent of Light we know you can be. That I know you can be."

She stared at him, having only just now connected the dots on something that had bothered her. "Healer." Why hadn't she remembered that before?

"Yes, Kori. Go."

And then she was alone on the dance floor.

Deep Down
a door opens
an invitation
a warning
a blessing
from beyond
and all at once
everything
hurts

She was greeted by the feeling of her head in an invisible vice, and also the loud ringing of an alarm siren and a howled protest that was familiar. At once, she wanted to kick her father in the shins as she whimpered in misery and curled tighter into a ball. Roganda cracked her eyes open and discovered who was howling at the noise, and that they were in cell.

The furry guy clearly liked the noise even less than she did... and through the pain, she squinted at the box with a familiar golden droid in pieces. What had gone on here?

And then, just when the noise had started to become just another part of her headache, it stopped, and the absence of it was almost harder to take than the actual noise had been. Underneath her own pain, something was radiating, screaming, and she blinked in realization. That was close by. That... why would they use torture but not pause for questions?

A new voice reached her and Roganda turned her attention back to Chewie, who was working on Threepio, who, from the sound of it... had ended up in pieces because of Stormtroopers. Ah. That explained the how, then.

Just then, the door to the cell opened and the guards deposited Han, who collapsed to the ground before Chewie helped him up and onto the cell's retractable bed. He felt terrible? She could feel it radiating off of him beneath her migraine.

The pain of said migraine kicked up another notch and she screwed her eyes shut. She felt and heard, rather than saw, Leia and then what had to be Lando from before. Words were exchanged, but in the midst of her own pain, she didn't catch any of it to understand completely.

And then, suddenly, Leia was at her side, shaking her shoulder to get her attention. Roganda took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked up at the Princess, to find four sets of concerned eyes. "Head. Pain. Bad."

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~​

Lando stared down at the woman who heretofore had been mentally a child the entire time they'd been on Bespin before looking at the Wookiee. "Has she been like that the entire time she's been in here?" Chewie nodded, and Lando glanced at Han, then at Leia. "I'll be right back."

The medic he returned with entered the cell and was hard-pressed to figure out who to treat first. The haggard looking man pointed to the woman curled up into a ball in the corner, saying he was fine. "Right. Her name?"

"Ganda."

The medic nodded and went to join the other woman at Ganda's side. "Now... Ganda? I'm a medic and I'm here to help you."

She blinked up at him. "Medic?"

"Yes." He started to open his medkit, but she grabbed his hand so tightly that his first instinct was to wince. "Ow."

"Was told to tell you. Conditioning. Headache. Pain very bad."

The medic stared at her. "You have a headache related to conditioning?"

"Yes!"

"Can I have my hand back now?" He was helped by the other woman who quickly detangled their hands and then volunteered her own hand. "Thank you."

She smiled. "Just treat her. If I'd realized, she'd have seen a medic long before now."

"Couldn't. Tell. You," Ganda ground out, then blinked when he started preparing two injections instead of one. "Eh?"

"The first is a combination medication," he explained. "Normally meant for seizures. The second is directly for your headache." Then he quickly gave both to her in opposite arms, and she slid into sleep while they watched.

"What did she mean, conditioning?" the woman wondered.

"That," the medic said as he packed up the medical kit again. "Is something to ask her when she wakes up. The medication will help her relax, and she should be a bit better sometime tomorrow or the day after." He glanced over at the man, watching from the retractable bed. "And you?"

The man waved him off. "I probably feel better than I look."

The medic nodded and then looked down at his sleeping patient, then looked at the other woman. "She'll sleep for a few hours. After that, she'll need to eat. All of you will."

The woman nodded. "Thank you." She glanced at his Baron Administrator, watching them from the doorway. "And thank you, Lando. I'm still upset at you, but..."

"Later," Lando interrupted as the medic joined him at the door. Then he followed the administrator out of the cell.

 

Wow, an onslaught of memories/dream sequences!

 

[nothing here... yet]

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha ...thank you. I was going to side-step for the B Plot, but talked myself out of it (and also into it again), so there will be a separate story for that. Back to this one, because while I might be stuck for dumb reasons, I DO love this scene here.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~​

It had to have been at least an hour, Han reflected as he sat on the floor of the cell with Leia and Roganda, watching as Chewie worked his way to figuring out how to put Threepio back together again. He wanted to get up, to try to help, but the mere thought of moving right then was exhausting, and Roganda was actually using his legs as a pillow. He was still wondering what she'd meant by 'conditioning' and how that had made her act other than herself for weeks.

Movement made him look down, and she was looking back at him, eyes sort of glassy. "Hey there."

Leia startled and also looked down, smiled. "You you?"

Roganda sighed. "I guess. Is Masked Idiot really here?"

Leia frowned. "Masked Idiot?"

"Darys. Called in private. Vader."

Now Han laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation, and instantly regretted it. The pain from before was less now, but his chest hurt again. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back for a minute, breathing in and out as calmly as he could. He didn't want to think about the scanning grid he had been attached to, just to draw Luke out, however that worked, and panicking wouldn't help them right now. "I'll bet. How do you feel?"

"Terrible, but less... lost? Tried before. Couldn't." She focused on Leia. "Well?"

Leia nodded. "He is. We can talk about it later, though. Go back to sleep."

Roganda took a deep breath, let it out. Then she grasped for Leia's hand. "Help."

Leia leaned closer, studying her. "For what?"

"Tell medic: 'Underground'... to wake."

"Underground?"

"Yes."

And then she was asleep again and Leia looked at Han, who shrugged minutely, even that small movement reminding him of being at Vader's so-called mercy. "I really hope she can speak in complete sentences and is herself when she wakes up again."

Leia glanced at him. "Me too." She reached over and cupped his cheek with her free hand. "Posture helps."

Han resisted the urge to return the gesture, knowing that his core muscles would protest again. He knew that, but it helped to hear from her when he knew she had been through something similar herself.

 

Great name for Vader LOL I don't think I've herad that one before. I like the Han POV.