The spinning blue tunnel of hyperspace cast a soft blue glow on the occupants of the seven X-wing fighters heading toward the rendezvous point, mingling with the colored lights in the cockpits. While they could not see each other, the men moved almost in unison, watching their control panels and scanning the readouts as their astromech units beeped and whistled reports. It was all clear. Within seconds of each other, seven reversion alarms sounded. It was time to come out of hyperspace.
With the practiced hand of a veteran- though he himself had only been flying combat missions for three and a half years -Rogue Leader's gloved hand closed on the throttle. "All right, boys. We're coming out of hyperspace. Revert on my mark in three, two, one." He throttled back. Immediately the blue glow disappeared, replaced by starlines. In less than the second those starlines had shrank back into stars, framing the clustered group of cruisers that made up the Rebel Alliance fleet. Behind him, six other fighters dropped out of hyperspace. Rogue Leader glanced at his control panel. "Rogue Squadron, check in."
"Rogue Three, I copy."
"Copy, Rogue Leader. This is Rogue Four."
"Rogue Seven, standing by."
"Rogue Nine, on your six."
"Rogue Eleven, I copy."
"Gotcha, Rogue Leader. This is Twelve, right behind you."
Luke Skywalker let out a short sigh of relief and let the suppressed smile spread across his face. No matter how many missions he flew, it was always a relief to come home without losing anyone. In that respect, this particular mission had been a success. He nodded and punched the mic again. "Good work, boys. Stand by." He switched channels.
Immediately a familiar voice came on the line. "Rogue Leader, we have you on our scope. Good to hear you, Luke. What's your status?"
Luke's smile widened as he spoke to General Reeikan. "Hey, General. Same here. We're fine. Coming in on the Liberty's port side. All fighters present and accounted for."
"Was your mission a success?"
"Affirmative. If you let us in, we'll tell you all about it."
Reeikan chuckled. "Will do, Rogue Leader. You're cleared for landing at the Liberty. Welcome home."
Luke nodded sharply and switched channels yet again. He grinned upon hearing Artoo-Detoo's enthusiastic whistle and seeing the words flashing on the droid readout screen. "Of course we made it back in one piece. No problem." He chuckled upon hearing the droid's doubt. "Thanks a lot. And you say Threepio worries too much."
Artoo let out a wistful 'ooo' sound. He missed Threepio, as well as the others.
Luke's grin faded into a look of wistfulness. "I know. I miss them too. Come on. Let's park this crate and go say 'hello'." He mashed the mic pickup one more time. "OK, boys. We're docking at the Liberty. By the numbers. There's plenty of room for everybody."
As Luke angled his fighter around to enter the hangar bay of the Liberty, he found his mind wandering. The list of people he wanted to see was long. Since he couldn't see everyone all at once, his mind was most torn between two; Leia and his father.
It was Leia he was most concerned about. At her request, not another word had been spoken about her newfound Force abilities. Since Leia ignored every attempt at bringing it up Luke had since let the matter drop. Their friendship had been strained in the weeks leading up to the assault on the second Death Star. The woman seemed to grow increasingly detached from the matter, retreating further and further away.
Leia's attitude had improved some since the Battle of Endor. She smiled more and did not seem quite as stressed, and even treated Luke much as she had before all this had started. If anything, she was even more protective and clingy, worrying herself sick every time Luke left and practically ambushing him when he got back. Luke couldn't account for it, and knew poor Han was getting jealous. He made a point to find time to speak with Leia about this before he left.
It had not been easy getting clearance to go on a month of personal leave. While half of the Imperial Fleet had been destroyed along with the Death Star and Palpatine was now in retreat, the war was nowhere near over. Luke almost had to claim injury in order to go; which wasn't completely untrue.
Luke had been injured during the Battle of Endor. Unlike most of the others, who had been hurt when their fighters had been hit, his injury had resulted from nothing more than arrogance. After the majority of the fighting was finished, Luke pursued a loose TIE fighter into the forest moon's atmosphere without waiting for someone to cover him. The pilot landed in a clearing and took off on a speeder bike. Luke went after him alone. What he didn't know was that there was a pocket of leftover scout troopers lying in wait. His speeder's engine was damaged, and Luke was forced to bail out while hovering some twenty feet above the ground.
He ended up breaking his left leg in three places. Everyone, especially Han and Leia, had given him a royal chewing out for being so reckless. In the flurry of activity following the battle, Luke had not had time to sit still and let his leg heal properly...until Han- who had gotten a General's commission -ordered him to rest.
Of course, that had been over a month ago. Luke's leg was fine. Too-One-Be still wasn't satisfied and ran bone scans after every mission. After this and everything Luke had done for them, the leaders of the Rebellion were more than happy to give him some personal time. Even Anakin had been nagging his son to take it easy.
Luke landed and powered down his X-wing, a smile starting on his face as he sensed a nudge from his father.
You have returned, son? Good. I hope you're in one piece this time.
Luke chuckled and briefly closed his eyes to call back. "I'm fine, father. I'll see you as soon as I can."
No hurry. This medical droid won't leave me alone.
Luke frowned and searched the ship for his father. Concern rose upon not sensing him anywhere aboard the Liberty. "Are you all right? Where are you?"
Aboard the Redemption. Not to worry; just another routine checkup.
Luke sighed as his father broke contact with one last admonition not to worry. A concerned whistle from Artoo made Luke turn around. "I'm fine, Artoo." He pulled off his flight gloves, laid them on the dashboard, and climbed out of the fighter. He watched as the technicians lowered Artoo back down and swung off the ladder.
An unexpected jolt of electricity shot through Luke's left leg from heel to knee as he landed, making everything go suddenly nerveless. His knee buckled beneath him and he gripped the ladder to keep from falling. His brow wrinkled in confusion. What's going on? It hasn't done that for weeks. After the injury, Luke's leg had sometimes given out on him without warning. He had thought that episode was over with.
Wedge, who had come in right behind his wingleader, hurried up to him. "Luke!" He took Luke's arm, brow wrinkling in concern. "Hey, you all right?"
Luke flushed with embarrassment and forced his leg back under him. "Yeah, I'm fine." He straightened his spine and let go of the ladder.
Wedge wasn't convinced. He kept his hand on Luke's shoulder. "What's the matter? Is it your leg again?"
Luke gently brushed his friend away. "It's nothing. Guess I better eat some lunch," he chuckled. The young Jedi normally wouldn't tell such a lie, but he was tired of being fussed over and worried about.
"You sure?" Wedge lifted his eyebrows. "Maybe you get over to the Infirmary."
"Wedge, I told you. I'm all right." Luke bounced on his leg to prove his point. To his relief, it held his weight. He lightly slapped Wedge's shoulder. "Come on. Let's get over to the commissary before Janson cleans them out."
"I heard that!" Cried the young man in protest. He ran up to the pair from behind, joined by the other members of Rogue Squadron.
Luke laughed along with the others, forcing thoughts of what was going on with his leg from his mind. Whatever it was, he hoped it went away before he returned to Yoda. How could he convince the aged Jedi Master he was more responsible if he was limping?
"Commander Skywalker, report to the Infirmary. Commander Skywalker, report to the Infirmary," ordered a voice on the p.a. system.
Luke groaned and threw Wedge a frown.
Wedge held up his hands in surrender. "Don't look at me."
The young commander let out an aggravated sigh before taking off at a jog. "Be right back," he called, his droid trundling along behind with a musical whistle.