Leia's plan had failed. Han, Luke, and Chewbacca had been sent off to be fed to the Sarlacc, Jabba deciding to not attend. Not now he had a new toy.

Namely, Leia.

She shivered at the chill of the cold metal slave costume, the scraps of cloth barely hiding anything, just as Jabba liked it. And the frosty-golden forms of other slave girls reminded her why she had to obey, even as her friends and the man she loved were sent to their doom.

Or so it seemed. A runner scurried in, terrified.

"The prisoners escaped! They are coming here!" The unfortunate underling said.

Jabba dropped him into the Rancor's now empty pit, and cursed, even as Leia's heart soared.

"Curse Solo and the Jedi! Prepare defences! And you, slave, dance!"

"Why should I? You'll be dead soon, Jabba," Leia taunted.

Jabba's slimy fingers hovered over the button, and she rolled her eyes, confident that Jabba would soon be no more. Half-heartedly, she shimmied around, Jabba growling.

"Dance properly!"

Leia just shrugged, pushing her luck.

Too far, as it turned out. Jabba slammed the button as she rolled her head back dismissively.

She didn't even have a chance to cry out, the collar glowing, the nanites escaping, and in an instant converting her from a badly-dancing slave confident of freedom, to a freezing golden statue trapped in her aloof posture.

Frosty mist poured from her glittering and frozen form, her smug expression frozen solid, her mind empty. She was now just a frozen icy carbon-encased statue, and could be so possibly forever... if Luke and the others were slow in getting there.

"Now the clock is ticking, foolish little Rebel princess!" Jabba gloated at his latest new decoration.