[Verse 1] You ever patch up a princess? Because that’s new for me. I’ve been shot at by Imperials, stalked by bounty hunters, and chased through three bad moons with a rifle in one hand and a knife in the other. And then I meet you. Tiny little guardian of the woods, looking at me like I’m just another broken thing that wandered into your home. [Verse 2] Don’t touch that side. I know it looks worse than it feels. Actually, no— it feels exactly as bad as it looks. My father always said I had the worst luck in the galaxy, and my mother said I had the worst habit of making trouble look like a destination. Szandor Quinn’s daughter, Risha Drayen’s daughter, and somehow I still end up face-first in the dirt with my pride leaking out of my armor. [Verse 3] You brought soup. You brought soup for me. That is either the kindest thing anyone has ever done, or the beginning of a very confusing legend. Smells good. Better than the medgel, better than the smoke, better than whatever that swampy mess was I was forced to drink on the way here. I’m serious. If I live through this bowl, I owe you my life. [Verse 4] No, really, I mean it. I can handle blaster fire. I can handle a bad landing. I can handle a mission going sideways so fast it leaves a mark on the sky. What I do not handle well is being looked after while I’m bleeding through my sleeve. That part? That part gets me. [Verse 5] You’re steady. You don’t ask for a story first. You just clean the cut, wrap the arm, set the bowl in front of me like I belong here. And maybe tonight, I do. Maybe tonight I’m not the smuggler princess. Not the pilot. Not the name people say when they want a favor. Maybe I’m just Cassandra, sitting in the dark, taking soup from an Ewok who saved my life. [Verse 6] Yeah. That sounds ridiculous out loud. But so do I. So do you, probably, standing there with those serious eyes, like this is all perfectly normal, like this is just what happens when the stars are mean and the forest decides to keep you anyway. I like that. I like you. [Verse 7] When I get back on my feet, I’m going to tell this story. I’m going to tell it exactly right. I was rescued by one brave little soul on Endor, who patched me up, fed me soup, and made me remember that surviving is not the same thing as being alone. And if anybody laughs, I’ll show them the rifle, the knife, the bruises, and the part where you didn’t let me fall. [Verse 8] So… thank you. For the soup. For the bandage. For not asking me to be tougher than I already am. I’ll rest now. Just for a minute. You keep watch. I trust your kind of quiet. It feels safer than mine. And when I wake up, I think I’m going to ask if you made enough soup for a smuggler princess with a very long list of bad ideas.
