EIGHTEEN

Luke woke suddenly to find himself lying down across several passenger seats, a gloved hand on his forehead. Darth Vader's breathing filled his ears. Instinct and disorientation made him flinch and pull away.

"Easy," murmured Anakin, pulling away with a grimace.I shouldn't be surprised. Waking this monstrosity is enough to frighten anyone... "Be still, Luke. Your head injury seems worse than I thought."

"What happened?" Luke mumbled, his one hand going to his head. It was throbbing with the worst headache he'd ever had and making it difficult to remember much of anything. He blinked the haze away from his eyes.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"Um...groundquake...Sheol...you saved me." A brief smile touched Luke's face. He chewed his lip on concentration. "We took a shuttle and then…that's all."

"We're headed back to the Alliance. After the jump to hyperspace, you fell unconscious." Anakin shook his head regretfully. "I should never have let you fly. You are far too injured."

Luke eyed the bandage on his father's arm. "Well, you don't look much better." He cleared his throat, still blinking, and tried sitting up. "I should check the navicomputer-"

Anakin held him down. "We're on course. Lie still. You shouldn't be moving yet," he warned.

Luke winced, but pushed his way up anyway. "Neither should you." Maybe his father was right. Sitting up just made things worse. His stomach lurched and threatened to expel his last meal. That's not good. "How long was I out?"

Anakin wished his son could see the concern on his face. "Several hours. I can sense you don't feel well...you seem to have a concussion."

That would explain things, thought Luke. He rubbed his aching head and nodded. "Yeah...feels like it...I've had one before, but...not this bad," he admitted.

Anakin steadied Luke's shoulder. "Are you ill? Is there double or blurred vision? Dizziness?"

Luke nodded ruefully. "Yeah. And about the worst headache I've ever had."

"Lie back down, then," Anakin gently pushed his son back.

"What about you?" Luke asked. He peered at the bloodied bandage and frowned.

"I'll live. You rest." While Anakin's arm was in utter agony, he was far more concerned about Luke. Still the boy pushed back. "Luke, please. You've been unconscious for nearly five hours. Moving around with a head injury only invites trouble."

Blinking hard, Luke shook his head. "Well, that bandage should be changed, and you can't do it by yourself. Let me help you..."

Anakin frowned. "I can use the Force to take care of it. Now lie down," he ordered, physically pushing Luke back to the cushion. He sighed at the face Luke was making. "You are incredibly stubborn...but you come by it honestly."

Luke tried cracking a smile. "You were just as bad?"

Anakin smiled sadly behind his mask. "Your mother was worse. I think you have a bit more of her in you than me. She was very stubborn...and very kind," he sighed distantly. Even after twenty-four years, the pain of losing her hadn't eased. "She would have been very proud of the man you've become."

Luke watched his father, feeling a slight, quiet connection. It was a new experience just talking to his father without any flashes of darkness. His curiosity about his mother rose. "What was she like?"

Anakin closed his eyes. He could still see her face in his mind's eye. "Strong...courageous… dedicated to helping others...and so, so beautiful..." A lump rose in his throat, and he shook his head. "She deserved better than I..."

Luke turned away. The sense of grief rolling off his father was so strong, it made him want to cry. He must have loved her very much. The thought was something of a comfort, though it pained the young man to wonder what could have been if Anakin had rejected the Darkness. Maybe they would have been a family...enough, he thought. It's in the past, and it can't be changed. At least you have your father now. The resulting, tentative smile faded when a roll of nausea swept over him. "Um...maybe...I think I need to take another nap," he said, rolling on to his side.

Anakin nodded. "You need rest, son. Is there anything else I can do? Are you hungry?"

The idea of eating made Luke's stomach twist all the more. "No. Not right now. Father…?" He looked over his shoulder.

"Yes, son?"

"Thank you."

The next three days of hyperspace travel were an exercise in patience for both Skywalkers. Luke slept off and on for the first day and ate nothing. He had tried after his second nap, but everything came right back up in minutes. After a while he gave up on normal nations and relied on nibbles of bland pilot bread and sips of water to keep going.

Anakin's condition deteriorated quickly. It was clear that an infection was taking hold in his arm. He hid his symptoms well with the Force, but even he knew he couldn't keep up the charade much longer. Both father and son had only the use of one arm, so treatment was clumsy on both ends. He fervently hoped that the Alliance wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later.

While Luke was awake, he had questions...many, many questions, mostly regarding the Jedi. Anakin answered what he could, but the guilt of wiping them out was at times overwhelming. He couldn't stay on the subject for long and rejected Luke's requests for instruction in the Force. He thought of himself as a fairly dismal teacher after what had happened with Ahsoka, and would not risk failing his son. Luke was disappointed.

Meanwhile the crew members made regular pests of themselves. They were given adequate food, water, and access to the refresher unit, but would not stop railing against the Alliance. On the last day Anakin lost patience with their noise and stunned them. The Rebels could deal with them. Besides, they were making Luke's headache worse.

Luke and Anakin's relationship grew slowly. Luke flinched every time he woke to find his father bending over him, and Anakin struggled with strong emotions. Both knew it would take more than a few days to gain the trust, respect, and affection that had been lacking for twenty-odd years. And while Anakin honestly did love his son, he wasn't sure how to show it. Treating Luke like a child certainly didn't work.

Nearly eighty hours after their departure from Sheol the reversion alarm beeped, rousing Anakin from a light doze in the main hold. When he looked for his son he found the compartment empty. "Luke?" he called.

There was no answer.

Anakin inched up to a standing position, still favoring his painful left arm. It was a simple matter to probe the four corners of the ship for Luke's presence. His feelings were mixed upon discovering that his son was in the cockpit...sound asleep, though the alarm from there had to be twice as loud. Hopefully it was just fatigue and not his head injury acting up.

Wordlessly he headed forward. Sure enough, there sat Luke, slouched in the pilot seat, arms crossed loosely about him, eyes closed, and mouth hanging open.

My son… On impulse Anakin rested his hand on Luke's head. "Luke...Luke," he called quietly.

As usual, Luke flinched awake. His heart pounded a little hearing the voice and seeing the mask of Darth Vader...but it only took a moment to sense the concerned presence of Anakin. Am I ever going to get used to that? Wondered Luke as he ran a hand across his tired eyes and turned to the console. "Oh. Reversion. Right." His left hand flew across the controls and carefully brought the ship out of hyperspace. "Next stop...Rebel fleet."

With a slight whine, the shuttle eased back into normalspace. Starlines shrank back into billions of tiny stars, while directly ahead sat-

Nothing. The Fleet wasn't there.

Luke's shoulders fell in disappointment. "What? No...this can't be right. They were supposed to be here!"

Anakin cringed. "Perhaps, given your injury, you typed in the wrong coordinates."

Luke shook his head. "No. I just checked. This is the rendezvous point where we were supposed to meet after Hoth. Where is everyone?"

Anakin sighed. "It has been over two weeks since the escape of your friends, Luke. They may have heard the rumor that you defected and...moved the fleet to keep everyone safe. I'm sorry. This is my fault."

Luke slouched into his seat. "Great. How are we going to find them now?" A staccato series of beeps interrupted him, and he checked the console. "Oh, boy. We've got four snub fighters on our tail."

"We are being hailed," announced Anakin.

"Maybe they can tell us what's going on." Luke activated communications.

"Imperial Shuttle, identify yourself!" barked a young male voice. "You are now in the custody of the Rebel Alliance."

"Wedge!" cried Luke as four X-wings came in and filled the corners of the viewport. He mashed the pickup. "Rogue Squadron, this is Commander Skywalker. Stand down. This is a friendly vessel."

"Luke!?" Shock registered in Wedge's voice. His jaw had probably fallen open. "Com...Commander Skywalker, please confirm. Is that really you?"

Luke nodded and quickly rattled off his confirmation code. "It's me, Wedge. I'm back."

A young, elated whoop echoed through the speakers. "I knew it! I knew you weren't gone. I just knew it!" crowed Janson. He sounded emotional.

"Good to hear you, Janson," smiled Luke, trying to clear away the lump in his throat. "Wedge...what's going on? Where is everyone?"

"We thought you were dead, Luke. We heard..." Wedge hesitated. "We heard you'd joined the Empire. The Alliance moved the fleet. What are you doing in an Imperial shuttle?"

Luke cringed. It was going to be a heck of a welcome home. "It was the only ship I could find. Look, Wedge, whatever you've heard about me joining the Empire, it's not true. I swear."

Wedge was quiet. "Scanners are picking up four life signs. Who else is on that shuttle?"

This is going to be interesting. Luke grimaced and turned to look at his father. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But I did have to stun the crew. They weren't...exactly… accommodating..." Luke shook his head. The dizziness was coming back worse than ever.

"Luke, you okay? You don't sound too good."

"Long story. Probably...gonna need...medics."

Anakin turned to his son, worried. Luke's head was acting up again. He took his arm. "Luke, go lie down. Rest."

Luke shook his head. "No...no, they...they're not going to...listen to you," he mumbled. "Just...let me...get us in..."

Wedge sighed with worry. "You know what I have to do. We have orders to detain any Imperial vessel in the vicinity, no matter who's on board."

Luke nodded drowsily. "I know...do what you have to."

Cursing under his breath, Wedge extended his X-wings and broke formation. "Strap in. We're going to knock out your engines, navigation, and tracking systems, then tow you back to the fleet. You better hold on to something."

Luke cringed, but he understood the need for it. He buckled his restraints and turned to Anakin to be sure his were done. "All right. Fire when you're...ready."

Wedge wheeled around to the back and began a systematic sequence, firing carefully so he would only disable and not destroy. A series of small explosions overtook the aft section.

Anakin held on for dear life as the shuttle went through a series of violent shakes. When the engines were hit, the shuttle lurched forward. He was thrown against his restraints. Concerned, he turned to Luke and found his son slumped forward, once again unconscious. "Luke...Luke!" Luke didn't stir. Anakin's heart sank. Oh, no. Maybe the impact had worsened his concussion.

"All right, we're through. You still there, Luke?" called Wedge.

Anakin cringed.The Rebels are never going to believe me if I answer. They'll only destroy the vessel. So he said nothing, instead unbuckling his restraints and trying to wake his son. "Luke, wake up...please, Luke."

"Commander Skywalker, please confirm," grunted Wedge. Concern rose in his voice. "Luke, come on. Luke...Luke?" Seconds ticked by. He swore. "I must have hit him too hard. He's not responding. All right, boys. Lock on your tow-beams and program the jump. Let's bring him home."