[ She squeezes Luke tighter in return, spurred on by his giddiness, before she pulls back enough to get a better look at him, bracing a hand on his shoulder and looking him over for damage. For her part, her smile remains blinding in its warmth and regard for him, despite the way her heart tightens at his questions. She looks as he last saw her (as she always is, really), dressed in her white mission gear, braids looped away from her face.

When she speaks, her voice remains steady, calm and full of easy assurances. ]

Of course I'm okay. I can take care of myself. [ not the point but!! Still, even as she attempts to mask it, her face falls slightly. Oh, come on, she doesn't need to be disappointed over a missing scoundrel or a wookie, for goodness' sake. ] But I haven't seen them anywhere — haven't seen any known rebels, actually.