(no subject)
Irina learned to write mission debriefs from her sister, and it flavors her summaries accordingly: brief, bloodless and blunt. She has an attention to detail needed and is able to separate the important from the mundane.
Her sister Katya is constantly reprimanded for her flippant reviews of her assignments, peppered with personal views and unimportant points, such as the cologne a target was wearing or the temperature and direction of the wind. The results of her assignments were the only thing that kept her employed; the KGB had fired many for lesser offenses.
Elena is by far the most ruthless, so precise and exact with her debriefs that she could write models for recruits. Her precision and lack of emotion extended to everything, but was never as apparent as in her debriefs. The incarceration and interrogation of the potential traitor Irina Derevko, written with the utmost disdain and precision, as was the report on the imprisonment and torture of her husband, a traitor.
THE BEGINNING:
Tess was very aware of the fact that the gorgeous gown she wore was being wasted on her. Someone else could be wearing this dress, could be at this ball, could be having the time of their life.
But no, not Tess. No having the time of her life for her.
Instead, she was perfecting her act as the wall flower. Performing an experiment to see how long she could be ignored. She had gone a whole quarter of an hour without being noticed.
She leaned back against the wall and ran her hands down the skirt of her dress. It was a beautiful gown- she had got it at one of the top fashion boutiques in Coruscant. It was an original, they had told her.
Tess shook her head sadly. It was a waste of material.
In her opinion, this entire trip had been a waste. Staying with her uncle only made her realize how different her father was from his brother. Her uncle had been one of the creators of the New Republic. Her father was a teacher. Despite their differences, the brothers were close. Tess's father, Kyler, had come up with the fantastic idea that while he and his wife were on holiday, Tess could go and spend some time with her dear uncle. This was also a bid at infusing Tess with some culture- which included dragging her to the celebration of the third anniversary of the Empire's downfall.
Uncle Carlist and Aunt Aislin were mingling, as they should be. Carlist Rieekan was the minister of state of the New Republic, it would not do to have him sit on the sidelines with his sullen niece. Sullen because she knew no one, and no one noticed her.
She contented herself by watching the couples swirl by as a band played a popular waltz. She tapped her foot in time, imagining what it would be like to instinctively know these dances, to belong in fine dresses and to drink several kinds of champagne and know where they came from by the taste.
Tess moved along the wall, carefully concealed by shadows. The lights were dimmed to bring about a romantic aura, twinkling lights trained on the dance floor. She reached the bar, wondering what alcoholic beverages that would let her get away with. When she asked for a Corellian Twister, the server droid never hesitated. Tess guessed that since this was a classy party, they assumed she was old enough to handle alcohol.
She took her drink, sniffing it apprehensively, and grabbing a few puff cakes to munch on. She sat at a table near the dance floor so she could continue her observation. It seemed that over-the-shoulder gowns were the style this season, mostly in light colors. The skirts generally were full and they swept the floor when the partners whirled by. Most of the men wore military uniforms, starched and polished with medals decorating their fronts.
The next song started- this one with a quicker beat- and the dancers murmured excitedly. Tess groaned- she knew exactly what was coming.
The Frescini Reel.
It was a tricky dance that involved circles, switching partners, and dancing down the middle of the floor in front of every one. It was a traditional dance from the olden days that everyone knew, derived from a classic holonovel that took place on the mythic world of Frescin.
Tess leaned back and took a cautious sip of the twister. It was sweet with a bite, and Tess realized that before the evening was over, she would need to consume several more of these. Becoming an alcoholic by age sixteen, Tess mused, was not exactly what her parents had in mind when they had told her she was to acquire class.
Tess tried to identify those making fools of themselves. It was rare that anyone refused to take part in the revelry, which must have been one of the contributing factors to its continued popularity- hardly anyone ever saw how idiotic they looked, prancing about.
She recognized some of her uncle's friends, the women who were members of Aunt Aislin's societies, and finally, her aunt and uncle themselves, breathless with exertion, waving jovially. Uncle Carlist has his arm too tightly about his wife's waist, and Aunt Aislin was positioned just a bit too close to Carlist. Tess smiled benignly.
Several younger couples frolicked by, and Tess gulped the twister bitterly. Would it have killed Uncle to find her an escort? Sure, she would have objected strenously to it and behaved horribly to the poor boy, but at least she would not have to sit at a table alone.
The song reached it's crescendo, but instead of continuing on to its finish (pa-da-da-dum-ta-rummmmmmm, Tess hummed in anticipation), it stopped abruptly. The hall exploded with triumphant cheers instead, crowding to the doors.
Tess had never heard the Frescini Reel not reach its conclusion and could not imagine a disturbance big enough to disrupt it. Why, in the novel, the dance had continued while a the planet was attacked, the population dancing as they were annihilated. To finish the dance was symbolic.
She stood up and crossed the gleaming parquet floor, edging along the fringe of the crowd. Who would be such a source of interest?
Tess was Alderaanian. This made her short by nature. Cursing heredity, Tess tried unsuccessfully to see over the heads of those in front of her. Giving up, Tess stood up on a chair and skimmed the crowd.
Oh, Tess thought. That's who everyone's interested in.
It would take a very important person to disrupt the Frescini Reel. That description certainly fit Leia Organa Solo, the chief of state of the New Republic, and her handsome war hero of a husband, General Han Solo.
Tess could remember hearing her parents speaking of them. They were staunch supporters of their Princess Leia and felt that General Solo had proved his worth. Of course, Uncle Carlist had told his brother of their escapades: "They had fought for years before admitting their feelings", while Aunt Aislin simply gushed, "It was a case of opposites attracting-- they're perfect together!" and left it at that. Tess's mother, the eternal romantic, had given the former Princess and Senator her vote for that reason alone. Tess's father was more pratical- he voted for her because she was Alderaanian.
The galaxy had wondered and worried over the fate of the Organa-Solo coupling. There was no way it would last, some argued. After their small, private wedding that followed the victory of Endor, critics and cynics sniped that they never believed it would work, that Solo wasn't good enough for the Princess.
Han Solo had proved his worth, accepting the position of a General in the New Republic and receiving countless accolades and decorations. Fittingly, he had arrived at the party in his crisp general's uniform, a significant array of medals displayed. His most impressive adornment, however, was the woman on his arm.
The petite President was lovely, clad in a dress of heavy white silk. Her shoulders were bare with pale blue sleeves draping over her upper arms smoothly. A matching sash emphasized her tiny waist as her hair style showcased her graceful neck. Jewels glimmered at her throat and wrists, a few gems sparkled in her hair, and light reflected off her bejeweled fingers.
She smiled winningly at those she passed, nodding her greetings, occasionally stopping for a word or two. The crowd clamored about her, calling her name, reaching out for her, hoping for her favor.
Tess could not imagine a more glamourous couple. What more did those two need? They had prestige, power, brilliance and appeal.
A hand on her elbow jerked her down, and Tess found herself face to face with a breathless Aunt Aislin. "She's here!" she squealed excitedly, tugging at Tess's arm. "Dearest Leia's here!"
Groaning quietly at the use of her aunt's endearment, Tess wondered just how close Aislin was to the President. 'Dearest Leia', hmm?
"Oh, Carlist's already talking to her, Tessie. You simply must meet her. She'll adore you, precious. Now, stand up straight. Shoulders back. That's a girl."
Aislin batted an imaginary wrinkle from Tess's skirt and looked her over critically, one eye narrowed. She nodded sharply, then grabbed her hand to swan through the crowds.
"Oh, excuse me, pardon me, oh, I'm sorry! Don't mind me! Yes, this is my niece, isn't she lovely. Tess. Sixteen. She's staying with us- oh, darling, I apologize! How clumsy! Excuse us, pardon..."
Tess was suddenly grateful that her father was only a teacher. She wasn't sure she'd be able to deal with the fake smiles and the sashays that was essential to this kind of society day after day.
They were relieved by Uncle Carlist's back. The music had started again, and the couples, having their curiousities sated, went back to their waltzes, and Aunt Aislin swayed in time to the music, her skirt swishing pleasantly. "Carlist, darling," she murmured, and Carlist turned.
"Ah! There's my little girl!" he exclaimed jovially, reaching past his wife to put an arm around his niece's shoulder. Tess stumbled forward to meet her uncle, feeling very awkward and ungainly, especially since she now found herself facing President Leia Organa Solo.
"Leia, this is my niece Tessa Rieekan. Tess, this is the president of the New Republic, Leia Organa Solo."
The President smiled and extended a hand. "Tess, how nice to meet you. Are you enjoying the party?"
Tess forced a smile to her face, hoping she didn't look too pained. "The party is lovely, Mrs. President."
"The decorations are to die for, Leia," Aislin cut in, "And the food is fabulous. I honestly don't know how you do it."
Leia looked around the room, nodding in agreement. "Yes," she murmured. "It is a rather grand affair, isn't it?"
Without waiting for someone to answer, Carlist stated loudly how intensely brilliant his niece was. Tess blushed crimson as she slouched into her one-of-a-kind dress and wished the floor would swallow her up.
"Top marks in all her classes, Leia. I'm telling you, the girl's pure Alderaanian in that respect, no matter where she was raised. Tessie's destined for great things."
The Princess looked at the adolescent with renewed interest. "What sort of 'great things' are you interested in, Tess?"
Tess opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a hearty: "Politics, Leia, what else?"
It was pointless to argue with Uncle Carlist. President Organa Solo smiled gently as Tess let a false grin cover her face. "Will you be coming to the office with your uncle then?"
"Perhaps, Mrs. President-"
"Of course she will! Have to get her accustomed to the workings of the New Republic. Leia was involved with politics from the time she could read." Carlist spoke firmly, more to Tess than to Princess Leia.
There was no need for anyone to make a reply to Carlist's certainties, for at that moment, General Han Solo came up behind his wife and attempted to carry her off.
"Sorry, folks, I'll be needing my wife now-"
"Han, put me down!" The President, so demure and collected a moment before was now laughing as she swatted her husband away.
Pouting, the General did as he was told, but did not reliquish his hold around the Princess's waist. "Evenin', General Rieekan. Aislin, you're looking lovely." The General paused when he saw Tess, and he looked at his wife accusingly. "Heeeey, you're not allowed to spring guests on me, Leia. Who's that?"
Leia rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but it was visible to all that Leia found her husband's ridiculous behavior endearing. "That's Tess Rieekan, Carlist's niece."
"Oh. Hi, Tess."
The band started playing an old classic, and the Solos turned to one another. Before Tess could reply, the Corellian said, "You'll have to be excuse us now- I haven't had a dance with my wife yet." Leia smiled apologetically and accompanied her husband without a word.
The whole ballroom watched as the couple took the floor. Aislin sighed happily as she watched the two waltz around the glistening parquet. "It's their anniversary next week," Aislin exhaled. "There's a huge surprise party set for them. Three years- no one ever thought they'd make it. And look at them, still in love."
~*~
And then we move onwards to little pieces I have. *smiles weakly*
"General Solo," Tess began nervously, her stomach twisting. "I'm afraid I have something to tell you."
Han did not even turn to face the young woman. "Let me guess. You did it. It was a childish game gone awry and someone died and I got blamed."
Tess flushed hotly. How could he joke about something like that? "No," she hissed angrily.
The Corellian looked at her, his face contorting into something that mildly resembled contrition. "Gods, kid, relax. I was just playing around. Need some entertainment around here, and you're elected."
"I don't see how you can be so flippant about this," Tess replied primly.
"What is it about Alderaanians that make them unable to take a joke?"
Narrowing her eyes, Tess straightened her spine and glared at the former captain.
"Well, they can't."
"May I speak now?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you may."
"General, when I-"
"When will you quit that?" Han interrupted.
"Quit what?" Tess asked wearily.
"Callin' me general. It bugs me. I'm not a General any more. I was dishonorably discharged. It's not many people who can get that twice."
"When are you going to stop calling me 'kid'?" Tess countered. "That bugs me too."
Tess was then treated to the lopsided grin made so familiar by the masses of holos she had accumulated. "I don't know. Maybe never. I still call Luke that, and I've known him for years." He paused, pondering. "Come to think of it, the kid's now accomplished a lot and became this Jedi Master and I still think of him as 'Kid'." His grin widened. "And you're just a little girl compared to him. So you might be stuck with it for a while."
Tess made a face and struggled to regain her courage. "May I continue?"
"Will you stop starting it with 'General Solo' and just get on with it?"
"I was there that night," Tess deadpanned.
"Where, the apartment? Were you hiding in the closet or something?"
"At the party," she said patiently.
Han Solo returned to the fateful night and his eyes lightened with remembrance. "The party. Gotcha. Was the food good? I missed it, I was dancing." He grimaced. "And not with my wife. I spent half of that thing dancing with the wives of diplomats while their husbands took Leia. It wasn't a fun evening." He looked at her accusingly. "And where were you?"
"I was drinking Corellian Twisters and hiding."
"My kind of girl."
"I was introduced to you and the President, but I doubt you remember."
"Honey, I don't remember what songs were played, what food was served or who was there. I remember being apart from Leia most of the evening, and then we went home, and what happened later kinda blotted the more enjoyable part of the evening out. I don't even remember what Leia was wearing."
Tess smiled wryly. "Did you normally remember what your wife wore to parties?"
Han Solo cocked an eyebrow at her. "Yup." He challenged, daring her to question him further.
Tess didn't rise to the bait. "She wore a beautiful gown. There are thousands of holos around of it. Her most famous ensemble."
"That wouldn't help me. Haven't seen a holo of Leia since I checked in to this joint."
"General Solo," Tess said, her voice rising in excitement. "I have something for you."
"What can you have that i want, Miss Rieekan? I have all that I need in this fine facility."
"A holo. Of your wife."
With that, Han tells Tess his story- in exhange for the holo.
"Tell me about it, General. Tell me about that night."
Han looked away, focusing on a darkened corner, where he could see his memories properly.
"It was after the party," he started slowly. "We walked into our bedroom. I took off the general's jacket and dropped it on the floor, Leia picked it up and harped, 'Han, what have I told you about your dress uniform?'"
A smile crossed over his face in what was obviously a fond remembrance. Tess's heart gave a painful little tug.
"So, I took the jacket and hung in the closet neatly like she wanted, and put my boots on the little rack. Leia was at the vanity, and she was taking off her jewelry. She had an order to it- Leia had an order to everything. The bracelets first, then the necklace. She would lay them down,and then when she took off her earrings she'd just drop them into this little glass dish she had for 'em. They would clink- it was one of the nighttime Leia noises I knew."
Han's face grew wistful as his mind returned to a world of shared bedrooms and glass dishes for earrings, of someone who complained when you left clothes on the floor.
"Leia hadn't eaten before we left- said something about being too nervous."
"You were late that evening," Tess recalled suddenly. "You came in late."
Han coughed. "Yeah, well, I gave her a massage to help her relax and things went a bit too far, so we had to get all dolled up again."
To conceal her burning cheeks, Tess looked at her shoes. Of course, she should've known something like would have made them late.
Clearing his throat to get her attention, General Solo continued. "I stood in the doorway to the closet, unbuttoning my shirt, and Leia was combing her hair. She looked over her shoulder at me and said something like, 'Honey, could you go down to fix me something to eat?' Leia never could cook worth a damn," he finished gruffly. "We would joke that all she had to do was walk into a kitchen to make the food spoil."
Tess found herself envisioning the scene, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. She had wondered what Leia's final moments were like countless times, wondered what Han's reaction had been after his wife's death, wondered how he had felt about being accused- but had never dared to think about what their last meeting had been like.
Had Leia looked over her right shoulder or her left? Had she been using the ornate brush and comb set her brother had shown her that had been on display on the vanity top, or another, plainer one? Was she going to plait her hair to sleep in, or leave it down? Was her mind on what she wanted to eat, or her husband, or some obscure detail of one of her numerous responsibilities? Had her feet still danced little steps under the vanity to a tune in her head?
"So, I said okay, and she gave me that smile that would just dazzle anyone, and she turned to face me and said that I was too good to her." He shook his head at her idiocy, chiding her ten years later. "She was hanging over the back of the chair, the brush dangling- and she blew me a kiss. Leia usually didn't do those kind of trite things- but she did that night. She blew me a kiss, and then she laughed and told me to hurry up, she was hungry.
"And I went downstairs."
There was a finality in those words, and Tess felt the heavy chill that arrived with them. The Han Solo she watched in her mind's eye walked down the stairs, away from his wife. He had gone downstairs to the kitchen, leaving only a mere ceiling between him and the horrendous act of his wife's murder.
Tess felt as though she could see it, like she was in the past, as her twenty-six year-old self, who stood at the foot of the stairs, trying to make Han go back up. She wanted to reach in and shove him back, or to run to the bedroom and save the beautiful President from her fate, to not be the sluggish sixteen-year-old she had been at the time, dreaming in her bed at her Uncle Carlist's house. She wanted to change the past.
"Leia didn't like to eat heavy things before she went to sleep, so I was looking for something light. There had been some tildeberries around earlier, but we both loved them, so I couldn't remember if there were any left. I rooted around, trying to find something- and then I found the wastril bread. And I thought, 'Perfect. I'll heat some up and get some honey on it, and we can have it.' And I did."
As he spoke, he made the motions with his hands, physically re-living the past. "I took the bread and put it in the heating unit, and got out the honey. Then I brought a knife and a plate. I took the bread out and put some honey on it, when I heard a thump."
Tess remembered this 'thump', had always remembered the 'thump'. The thump, the ominous, notorious thump that had been splashed all over the holonet as ridicule. "Your wife was upstairs being brutally slaughtered," the Prosecutor had sneered, "And all you heard was a 'thump'?" The thump had been used to illustrate his guilt, his upbringing, starting with his failure to save the day and his wife and ending with the same old song-- that Han Solo had never been good enough for the Chief of State Organa.
"I stood there for a minute- I couldn't think what could've happened to make such a noise. We had one of those expensive penthouses- you weren't supposed to hear things moving upstairs. Leia never handled alcohol well, and I couldn't remember how many she'd had, so I got worried that she had fallen and hurt herself.
"I left the food on the counter and ran upstairs, calling her name. I entered the bedroom..." Han's words grew slower and more deliberate, as though he was trying to piece the events together for the first time. "She had put on the radio. She did that, she liked the good music. Classics, soft ballads, that kind of stuff. It was eerie- it was her favorite song, some old Alderaanian singer named Mele Pilikia. But I couldn't see Leia.
"Old Mele, she was really crooning, from right next to Leia's side of the bed. The hairbrush was down straight, just like Leia always left it. And then I saw it- this little spot of blood. And I followed it... there was more blood. And it got to be more and more blood-- and at the end of the trail... there was my Leia. Still alive, my Leia."
Tess could not stop her jaw from dropping. Leia Organa Solo had suffered numerous blaster bolts, internal bleeding, and long gashes in her side. Whoever did it left virtually no chance of Leia surviving. She had died from a concussion caused by several blows to the head from something very heavy. Tess had assumed she had died instantly.
"She was lying against the bath tub in our 'fresher- this beautiful white tub she had ordered special 'cause she loved it so much- very Princess-like- and there was so much blood, everywhere. She was breathing really shallow- and she was looking around, scared. Shallow and hard, like she couldn't catch her breath."
And a collapsed lung. Tess had forgotten about that.
"She had scorches and she was bleeding- and she reached out for me. And Mele is still singing, and Leia mouthed along..."
Yeah, cliffie there, haven't finished... moving on...
"They buried her, didn't they?"
His voice was sudden and unexpected. He had been quiet, not saying much, and Tess had been scribbling notes and attempting to piece together evidence and interviews to make sense. She looked up and saw that Han was facing the wall.
"Yes, they did." she replied. Tess had seen the grave herself.
He sighed expansively.
"Shouldn't they have?" Tess asked, surprised. He had never spoken of Leia's death.
"She hated the dark."
He was silent after he said that for a long time, and Tess took that opportunity to think over what little he had said.
"Why was she afraid of the dark?"
"She wasn't afraid," he said, his tone implying he thought of her as an imbecile. "She just didn't like it. From the time she was little, she said, she didn't like the dark. She didn't want to be buried and be the in dark forever. She wanted to do that weird little Alderaanian thing and get burned."
"Cremation." Tess murmured absently. Cremation was usually performed on those who believed what the books of their religion said word for word: that the Alderaanians had risen from ash and should return to it.
"Yeah, that's it." Sighing, he shook his head slowly, still facing away from her. "She must hate it."
"General Solo, Leia's not really in the grave." Tess said soothingly. "Why, she went to heaven. If any one belongs there, it's her."
"Do the Alderaanians have a heaven?"
"Of course we do."
"The Corellians do, too." Han reported, his voice flat. "Not that I think I'll merit an invitation there."
"You don't give yourself enough credit, General Solo. You've done more good than you think."
"Is that why I'm here?"
Tess did not know how to reply to that.
"And even if I had- which I haven't- what good would it do me? I'd be with the Corellians and Leia'd be with the Alderaanians. What kind of an after-life would that be?"
Tess realized what he meant. "So you think when you die, you two won't be reunited."
"That's what I'm getting at, yeah. What else can I think? I know what the Alderaanians believe, and I know what the Corellians believe, and neither believed you should marry out of your system, and as a punishment-"
"You've given a lot of thought to this, haven't you?" Tess remarked wryly, hoping to get off the morbid topic.
"I've been in here for ten years. There's not much stimulating conversations with the jailers."