Part 21
Mission Abort + 47hrs
08:00 - Malhördhem Local Time
PLUGGED INTO THE ACCESS PORT in Specialist Traja Karsaar's office, Artoo Detoo trilled softly in excitement, sending information to the Ceetoo unit at the medical centre's reception desk, before unplugging and trundling towards the door. Whistling tunelessly, feigning nonchalance, Artoo turned into the corridor and headed for the concealed treatment area, where Lieutenant Hobbie Klivian was being hidden.
Three rooms away, Tarja shoved her comlink back into her pocket. Anticipation fluttering deep in her belly, she looked across at Colonel Marek Vyre, telling him, "Rebels just dropped out of hyperspace!" Then she turned her attention to the medical droid that rolled into the room. "Get Major Derlin ready to be moved."
Vyre pushed himself out of the seat, tugging on his uniform jacket, a tight smile of expectancy on his lips. Giving one, last glance towards Derlin, he left Karsaar to deal with the Rebel Major and headed out of the room, moving down the corridor towards the hyper-atmospheric chambers. There were Stormtroopers standing guard at the door. He ignored them, sweeping past them, striding across to the chamber where the object of his new assignment was confined.
"Commander Skywalker?" he began.
The Rebel turned his head, opening his eyes to look at him.
Vyre made a show of glancing at the door before stepping closer, telling the Rebel, "Listen carefully, Skywalker! A Rebel attack force has just dropped out of hyperspace in an obvious attempt to rescue your sorry carcase. And as much as it might surprise you, I'm going to help them rescue you." He glanced across at the stormtroopers, again, before continuing, "My career is over because of this debacle! And I'll be damned if I'm going to be reassigned to some backwater pissing-ground while the Lord Darth Vader profits from selling enemies of the Empire to bounty hunters!"
He stopped, checking the stormtroopers for a third time, then told Skywalker, "I have the Dendraali information that you missed on your download! And you're going to help me get it to the Rebel Alliance!"
Luke understood everything. He knew exactly what Vyre was trying to do. He also knew he had his own part to play in the charade… but the analgesic medication had left him light-headed. The false earnestness in Vyre's voice, and the fact that he was offering the exact information they had been trying to access on Dendraali: it was all just a little too surreal.
Laughter bubbled up in his chest. He giggled. Then giggled some more.
Vyre opened his mouth… and the lights in the medical centre went out, leaving the windowless room illuminated only by the still-running medical equipment. No emergency lighting came on. Vyre drew his sidearm. Shots rang out in the hallway and Vyre turned, anticipation fluttering deep in his belly. There was shadowed movement at the door as the Stormtroopers moved, then returned fire... More shots rang out. There was the sound of a scuffle... then silence.
"Colonel Vyre!" Tarja Karsaar's voice called. "Don't shoot. I need to check on Skywalker!"
"You need to get Skywalker out of this contraption before Vader sends reinforcements!" Vyre called back.
The bright light of a torch burst into life from the doorway, blinding him. "Unless they're already on their way," a voice informed him, "there's going to be a small problem with that… Drop the weapon!"
"You have nothing to…" Vyre began, realising that there must be Rebel special forces with Karsaar.
"Drop the weapon!" the voice interrupted, more forcefully. "On your knees! Hands on your head!"
Vyre sank carefully into a crouch, putting the blaster pistol on the floor… but then he rose slowly back to his feet, telling them, "I have information you need! I came here to help Skywalker escape!"
"I don't care if you're the right hand of Vader with the codes to his personal shuttle! Get on your knees and put your hands on your head!"
"I'd do as she says," Skywalker giggled. "Or your pristine white jacket's going to be decorated with a big, black, blaster burn…"
Vyre glanced towards him. In the dimly-lit hyper-atmospheric chamber, Skywalker smirked back at him.
"Last warning!" the voice ordered. "On your knees! NOW!"
Reticently, admitting that Skywalker had a valid point, Vyre lifted his hands, clasping them on top of his head before sinking to the floor. There was a rustle of movement. Shadowed figures moved into the room. The emergency lights finally flickered into existence, illuminating three, black-garbed, Rebel soldiers. The muzzles of their blasters were aimed at his chest. Tarja Karsaar appeared from behind them, rushing towards Skywalker.
Vyre glanced up at the medical specialist as she checked the data on the screen of the hyper-atmospheric chamber.
"Going dark," one of the soldiers announced, reading data from a pad attached to his sleeve, "in three… two… one…"
Vyre quirked an eyebrow. It made sense for the Rebels to jam Imperial communications, but Vader's troops would already be on the move.
"Charge deployed," the soldier continued. "Malhördhem's in black out." Shielded from the blast, the medical centre's emergency lighting remained on.
"The stormtroopers will already have raised the alarm!" Vyre warned. "They're not local garrison. They're Vader's troops. From the Executor!"
Cara Dune took a step towards him, blaster rifle firmly aimed at his rank insignia. "Name!" she demanded. She knew who he was. She had heard Tarja call his name. She recognised his voice. But she had to be sure.
"Vyre," he supplied, looking at her, recognising her as one of the elusive Rebels from Derlin's team. "Marek. Colonel."
Despite the fact that Dune had been almost sure of his identity, anger flared at the confirmation. This was the man who had murdered Dav Raimik and Vedrik Basun. This was also the man she was under strict orders not to kill. She pulled binders from her pocket with one hand, the rifle still pointing unwaveringly at his insignia. Tossing them on the floor in front of him, she ordered, "Put them on!"
"I came here to help Skywalker!" Vyre protested. "I have information the Alliance wants!"
Dune snorted in derision. "Of course you do… Binders! Now!"
Speaking slowly and deliberately, Vyre warned, "We need to get out of here! You might be jamming Imperial frequencies, but the stormtroopers you attacked, here, will have reported your presence. Vader will already have dispatched troops!"
"Oh, we've done a little more than jam communications!" Sergeant Meleen Arisii assured him, watching the medical specialist work.
Dune grinned at him, coldly, supplying simply, "Magflux charge…" She took a half-step forward, repeating, "Binders! Now!
Vyre considered the information as he dropped his hands and picked up the restraints from the floor. A magflux charge would have rendered any unshielded equipment useless, including transportation, droids and communications. Without the ability to communicate, even Vader's troops would be floundering in temporary confusion. Inspired, he admitted, grudgingly. Risky, but inspired.
Arisii moved closer to Tarja Karsaar. "How long until we can move?"
"A few more minutes," Tarja supplied.
Arisii nodded, then turned her attention back to Vyre. "Well, Colonel, that gives you just enough time to divulge that really important information you want to trade for the lack of a blaster bolt to the head!"
oo0oo
Riding off the shuttle's right flank, Zev Senesca followed the ship down through the planet's atmosphere towards Malhördhem. Anxiety curdled in his stomach. Without his gauntlets, he knew his palms would be slick with sweat. The last time he had flown into the mêlée, he'd been in a TIE fighter, trying to shoot down the pilots currently flying with him. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath against the small voice in the back of his mind.
Only the Galactic Empire can safeguard a safe and secure society. To ensure security and continued stability, the Rebel Alliance must be hunted down and defeated...
His astromech droid trilled at him, breaking through the liturgy. Startled, Zev sucked in a lungful of air as reality reasserted itself. Information flashed onto the data screen and Zev read it, acknowledging, "Thanks, Arfive!" before toggling the transmit switch and announcing, "Daemor Leader, the bombers have cleared the atmosphere, heading for hyperspace."
"Copied, Daemor Two," Janson confirmed. "Keep it steady!" he warned the pilots. "And keep your eyes open!"
"There's no chatter," Ulla Poole supplied, flying off the shuttle's left flank. "All frequencies are quiet… No, wait…" she went on, checking the data on her scopes. "We've got an emergency beacon... Civilian," she confirmed with a grin. "Law enforcement frequency…"
"Copied!" Janson acknowledged, sending a quiet word of thanks to the resistance personnel who had promised to trigger the beacon at the Malhördhem Sheriff's Bureau. He locked on to it, checking the data on the flight computer. "Five minutes to target!"
"Skies above us are still clear," Zev Senesca offered. He lifted his attention away from the scopes, finding reassurance in searching the azure-tinted firmament with his own eyes.
"All Imperial frequencies remain silent," Poole confirmed.
Janson allowed himself a small, tight smile of satisfaction. Not that he was stupid enough to count his kurzac before they hatched… but this whole thing might just go to plan…
oo0oo
"Your Highness," Threepio told Leia, "Artoo Detoo reports that the Stormtroopers within the medical facility have been neutralised. Lieutenant Klivian and Major Derlin are stable. Colonel Vyre has been secured. And Specialist Karsaar has begun the decompression of the hyper-atmospheric chamber. However," Threepio went on, "the Sheriff's droid reports that stormtroopers are moving on foot towards the medical facility… and Lord Vader is with them. They appear to have been unhindered by the magflux charge…"
"Tell Artoo!" Leia ordered. "The strike teams need to know!"
"Yes, your Highness," Threepio confirmed, moving back to the communications unit.
Leia turned, biting the inside of her lip. Farr recognised the look on her face and warned, "There's nothing more we can do here, Ma'am. Our job is to get Antilles to safety."
Leia knew that. Her head told her that she needed to give the order to leave… but with Vader moving towards the medical centre and Luke still trapped in the hyper-atmospheric chamber, her inability to help the situation jarred at her. She had thought she had prepared herself for it. She had made herself believe that she could follow the plan without question. Now, however, in the stark reality of the situation… things were different.
She had run on Hoth. She had run on Bespin. Vader had won both times. Luke had barely survived, and Han might yet be dead.
She hesitated.
"Seems a shame to waste the blaster cannons on this thing," a voice rasped from behind her.
Leia turned. Wedge Antilles leant against the bulkhead by the door. Leia had the distinct impression that he needed the support to keep him upright. Bacta dressings covered the bruising on his face, but the discolouration on his neck, where the Stormtrooper had choked him, was turning a dark, ugly purple.
"What do you mean?" Shawn Valdez asked.
"Your orders are to get me to safety," Wedge supplied, "but we could make a slight detour…"
"Detour?" Valdez frowned. "I don't follow…"
"The Empire think you're bounty hunters, working for them. That's more valuable than getting me out," Wedge told them. "We need to preserve that capability. We can use it to intercept more bounty hunters who really are working for the Empire." He paused, taking a breath before continuing, "We need to join this fight. And on the Imperial side…"
"Commander," Valdez began, but Wedge interrupted, "On Hoth, in the crossfire, some of our speeders were taken out by the Rebel defence."
Leia finally understood where Wedge was going. In the heat of battle, friendly-fire could do just as much damage as the enemy attack. A cold smile pulled at her lips. "We make a show of attacking the rescue ships."
"With really, really bad aim," Wedge confirmed, "and hit Vader and his troops instead."
Toryn Farr looked from Wedge, to the Princess, and back. Antilles had a point. She turned. "I'll take the belly gun."
"Now, wait just a minute!" Valdez tried.
"It's a good plan," Leia countered.
"It's nowhere near a good plan!" Valdez objected. He pointed upward, reminding her, "Those inbound X-wings don't know we're friendly!"
"Which will just make it more convincing!" Leia told him. "And, we have an advantage…" She looked at Wedge Antilles. There was only one person Leia trusted to fly the ship under these conditions. Even injured, Wedge was a better pilot than either herself or Shawn Valdez. "We have one of the best squadron Commanders in the Rebel Alliance… As long as he's fit to fly?"
"Always, Ma'am," Wedge confirmed, pushing himself off the bulkhead.
"The flight deck is yours," she told him, turning back to Shawn Valdez. "Are you manning the upper gun? Or am I?"
"This," Valdez warned, "for the record, is insane!" Then he sighed, knowing he had lost the argument, finishing, "But I'll man the gun…"
Leia flashed him a rare, and dazzling, smile, assuring him, "Your objections will be noted in my report, Captain."
He sighed again, unable to prevent the smile that pulled at his own lips. "You're enjoying this way too much!" he accused. As he started to turn, he saw Antilles falter and reach out to steady himself against the bulkhead. "Just make sure you catch Antilles if he passes out, your Highness!"
oo0oo
Sheriff Ashtor Svioisaar looked around the Deputies assembled in the main office. The atmosphere was charged with anxious anticipation. Ash took a breath then began, "I ain't one for speeches. Never seen the need…but I ain't never been at war before. And that's what this is: a war. A war between our due process of justice, and the Empire's martial principles. Lawbreaking has to have consequences… but unsanctioned executions ain't right, nor proper."
She paused for a moment before continuing, "This Bureau's been divided since the Empire took control of Vaaljajord, but it ain't no more. You've all put aside your political beliefs and come together, to stand straight and uphold the oath we took to serve justice without prejudice. And to maintain integrity, equality and honesty in fulfilling our duties..."
She looked around the Deputies, glancing across at Kaysix, telling them all, "And I ain't ever been this honoured to be your Sheriff."
The Deputies grinned at her, buoyed by the praise, glancing at each other in mutual respect. Ash couldn't allow them time to bask in it, however. "Rebel ships are only a few minutes out. And," she warned, "we need to tread careful. Our duty is to protect the folks of not just Malhördhem, but Vaaljajord. The Rebels have gone some of the way to helping with that, but we need to take it forward. The Imperial troops need to see us working shoulder-to-shoulder with them. The minute we step foot outside this building, we abide by the Imperial assertion that Rebels are terrorists! If that means firing on them, then that's what we got to do. Everyone understand?"
The Deputies nodded, murmuring their ascent.
"Sheriff Svioisaar?"
Ash turned, "Kaysix?"
"Incoming transmission from the Freedom Shade," the droid told her, "The orbiting star destroyer is under attack from Rebel forces, and several ships are descending through the atmosphere towards Malhördhem. The bounty hunters are launching to intercept and engage. They have been unable to advise Lord Vader."
"Engage?" Sig looked from Kaysix to Ash.
"It's what bounty hunters loyal to Vader would do," Lenya offered.
Ash interrupted any further discussion, reinforcing the loyal-Imperial-servant concept by announcing, "Listen up! In addition to a sector-wide blackout of any tech not shielded, we now have probable confirmation of Rebel attack, so we do this by the book! Kaysix, acknowledge the Freedom Shade's transmission. Tell them we're coordinating on the ground. Then initiate the emergency cascade. Cite terrorist insurgence!"
That would put the medical centre, the fire jumpers, and the Mayor's office on alert. The Sheriff Bureau's headquarters in Ranveig would also be notified. "Then try to get the same message to that star destroyer," she went on. "Most of the Ranveig garrison are already here, and blind."
"As ordered, Sheriff," the droid confirmed.
"Erika, stay here! You're our eyes and ears. Warn Mayor Gunnistsaar that there could be fighting in the streets. Tell her to stay put, but keep her informed."
"On it, Boss!" the Deputy confirmed.
"Sig, Lenya, Gunter: leave through the back. Make your way towards the rear of the medical centre. Then stay put until my order. If you run into stormtroopers, take the lead. You've got communications: they don't. That gives you authority. Make them stay with you."
The three Deputies were already moving to get their gear as they called acknowledgement.
"You're with me, Markus!" she ordered, before warning everyone, "Stay alert! And keep your heads down! I don't need to be training new Deputies! You all caused me enough trouble!"
oo0oo
Still on his knees, wrists now in binders behind his back, Colonel Marek Vyre watched as the pressurisation light on the hyper-atmospheric chamber switched from blinking red to steady green. The door of the chamber released, clunking outward before sliding aside.
"Don't try to move," Tarja warned Skywalker before drawing the gurney out of the chamber, "or you'll undo all my good work!" Behind her, two medical droids rolled into the room, one pushing a mobility chair.
A comlink chirped and a voice announced, "Two stormtrooper squads moving in towards the back!"
"Copied," Ariisi confirmed. "Hold the line! We'll be moving shortly!"
"I warned you that you were dealing with Vader's troops!" Vyre reminded her.
"You're operating under the misapprehension that we're worried," Cara Dune derided.
"How long?" Ariisi asked Tarja.
"He's almost disconnected from the chamber," the medical specialist supplied. "Just need to get him into the chair. Luke," she went on, putting a respiration mask over his nose and mouth, "the droids are going to lift you. Don't try to help. Just let them do the work. And it could be uncomfortable. But if I give you any more pains meds, you won't be lucid…"
"It'll be okay," he confirmed, trusting her implicitly.
There was an atmosphere of anticipation and expectancy, from the soldiers. They were calm but vigilant, ready to fight. Luke drew strength from it, pushing aside the small nag of doubt that fluttered deep in his belly. It was only a whisper, an echo of the misgiving he'd sensed on Dagobah and then again, on Bespin… but he recognised it. It was the aura of the Dark Side. He might still have to rely on others, but the Force was returning to him. He was no longer completely helpless in the face of Vader.
The droids lifted him. He groaned in discomfort, pain flaring through him.
"Breathe!" he heard Tarja order.
Ariisi turned, looking at Vyre, ordering, "On your feet, Colonel." She keyed her comlink as he rose from the floor. "Sandstorm is secure and ready for evac!" she confirmed.
"Copied," Sergeant Comdhail's voice replied before supplying, "Fortitude and Statesman are secure and prepped."
Sandstorm was the allocated mission tag for Skywalker. Fortitude was Hobbie. Statesman was Derlin.
Ariisi turned, looking at Cara Dune. "Vyre's your responsibility. Keep him alive, if you can."
Dune nodded, attention never leaving Vyre. She give him a cold smile, "After you, Colonel."
Tarj Karsaar had informed them that Vyre knew of the plans to hide the Rebels within the facility and that Vader intended to take both Wedge and Hobbie into custody. In the face of that, the mission parameters had been rapidly redefined. They could no longer risk leaving any of the Rebels in the medical centre. Derlin, Hobbie and Skywalker were all being evacuated on the shuttle with the Rebel strike teams. Ariisi's team were running escort, while Comdhail's team would lay down covering fire before pulling out to the shuttle.
However, the crew of the shuttle weren't yet aware of the last-minute change of plan. They'd be advised when they made contact, which would be very shortly.
"We're evac-ing to the front door," Ariisi told Comdhail. She turned, ordering, "Okay, people, move it out!"
oo0oo
"Aurek, this is Daemor. Do you copy?"
Janson waited for a few seconds then, with no reply, tried again. "Aurek, this is Daemor. Do you copy?"
"Daemor," a voice replied, "This is Aurek. Tactical redeploy! I say again, tactical redeploy! Statesman, Sandstorm, Fortitude evac-ing with Aurek! I repeat: Statesman, Sandstorm, Fortitude evac-ing with Aurek! Over!"
Janson swore softly, recognising the code names and knowing what it meant. Whatever was going on, the original plan had been shelved and he was now going to have to bring everyone out. He checked the data screen then toggled the com switch, acknowledging, "We'll make room, Aurek. We're three minutes out."
"Roger, Daemor," the voice confirmed, before warning, "We have buckets at the back door."
"Copied, Aurek," Janson confirmed. Stormtroopers were closing in on the rear entrance of the medical centre. "Daemor Two," he ordered, "close off that back door! Daemor Four, keep the front door open! Take those stormtroopers down!"
"Daemor Leader," Ulla Poole warned, before she or Zev could acknowledge the order, "we have incoming! Intercept course from the surface!"
"I see it!" Zev confirmed.
Janson swore, again, ordering "Evasive manoeuvres! Daemor Four, stay with me! Daemor Two, get down there and keep that front door open!"
"Copied!" Zev acknowledged, pouring on the power and surging away from the shuttle towards the surface, his wingman close behind. The gnawing anxiety that had swept through him earlier had gone, replaced by the familiar shiver of expectancy and trepidation that always tightened in his chest before going into battle. It grounded him, giving him focus.
In that moment, the last vestiges of Imperial indoctrination vanished. He smiled, remembering exactly who he was. His astromech droid threw data onto the screen and he read it, frowning. "Arfive, where did this come from?"
More data appeared on the screen. Zev grinned, keying the com switch, "Daemor Four, do you have new intel?"
"Affirm!" Ulla's voice confirmed, and Zev could hear the smile in her tone. "Daemor Leader," she went on, "route direct to the landing point! We're following Daemor Two down!"
Janson frowned as the two fighters accelerated away from the shuttle. "What the hells…"
"Incoming data from the surface," the K-2 unit sitting beside him at the controls, offered. "It's a message, Sir. It says, Endurance is camouflaged. He'll try not to hit you."
A slow smile tugged at Janson's lips. "Well…. I'll be…"
"I do not understand, Sir," the droid began. "Is Endurance not the mission tag for Commander Antilles?"
"Yes, it is," Janson grinned. "And it means that he's flying the ship that's heading towards us! Or he's manning the guns… and I hope to gods he's flying, because his aim is gods-awful!"
oo0oo
"Lord Vader!"
Vader glanced behind but kept walking as Sheriff Svioisaar jogged towards him, another Deputy tight on her heels.
"My Lord, the bounty hunters have launched to intercept a small group of ships heading towards us. And I have coms with my Deputies. Sig reports three squads of Stormtroopers moving towards the rear entrance of the medical centre, and taking fire. He's with one of your squad commanders. And Specialist Karsaar reported Rebel ground troops in the medical centre. She reports troopers down, but requests that no Imperial forces enter the facility, to prevent patient fatalities."
Vader considered that for a moment, not breaking stride, still moving towards the medical centre. He could hear the blaster fire and, in the distance, he could hear the Freedom Shade taking off.
He knew that the Executor was under attack from Rebel ships. Piett had been able to advise him of that before communications had been severed. Instinct told him that the inbound ships were Rebel, and a diversionary attack to cover Luke being concealed within the medical facility. If he allowed his troops to enter the centre, it would expose his son to further injury. "The squads are to remain outside the facility," he confirmed, "preventing any Rebel escape!"
As the Sheriff relayed his orders, the muted whine of engines reached him. He looked up, but the sky was covered in a layer of thick cloud, obscuring the ships from view. He kept walking. "Commander Corl!"
"Yes, Sir?"
"Position your troops in front of the medical centre. Prevent any ships from landing, but I want the Rebels within the medical centre taken alive!"
"Yes, Sir!" Corl replied, issuing orders to the troopers, who moved to obey.
"Lord Vader," Ash began, listening to Erica's voice in her earpiece. "The Freedom Shade has engaged four X-wings and a shuttle…" She paused then went on, "And the Executor reports that they are taking heavy fire from multiple Rebel ships which are preventing TIE reinforcements from..."
The rest of her sentence was drowned out as two X-wings burst through the cloud, screaming overhead, the Freedom Shade close behind, firing on the Rebel ships. Blaster fire ricocheted along the street. Ash swore, ducking instinctively. She turned, watching the ships streak away towards the anchorage before pulling back up into the cloud, again. There was a muffled thwump from the direction of the anchorage and black smoke began to pour skyward. An emergency alarm wailed into existence.
Ash glanced at Markus then turned back towards Vader. Two Stormtroopers lay motionless on the street ahead, but the rest of the troopers continued towards the medical centre: as did Vader.
Another pair of Rebel fighters dropped beneath the cloud, strafing the street, ignoring the blaster fire that erupted towards them from the Imperial troops. Ash grabbed Markus, dragging him towards the relative cover of a building doorway. Then she took off, running after Vader, staying close to the wall, Markus at her back.
Two X-wings appeared again, the Freedom Shade close on their tails. The fighters rocked and twisted, firing on the Imperial troops while staying neatly out of the way of the both the Freedom Shade's guns and the stormtroopers' aim. Blaster fire spattered off the ground, kicking up debris. More stormtroopers went down.
"Gods damn it!" Ash cursed. "I did not sign up for this!"
But she knew she had. She just hadn't envisioned the fight against the Empire turning into this close an engagement on the streets of Malhördhem.
Then, ahead of her, an X-wing emerged from the cloud, descended vertically. It slowed, hovering about eighty feet from the ground, firing on the Imperial troops. Behind it, a shuttle appeared, manoeuvring and landing on the street outside of the medical centre.
Still running, Ash pulled her sidearm from her holster, aiming in the direction of the hovering X-wing, and firing. On the ground, the shuttle ramp lowered.
Blaster fire streamed towards both ships. Then there was a dull thud, and smoke began billowing from one of the X-wing's engines. It wobbled in the air. Ahead of her, Vader finally halted in his stride towards the medical centre, looking up at it. Ash skidded to a halt, heart in her mouth, knowing that if the engine exploded, or if the X-wing fell out of the sky, the shuttle behind was too close not to take damage.
oo0oo
Janson swore, leaning over the flight console to peer up at Zev Senesca's fighter. Smoke poured from the starboard wing and for a long moment the T-65 hung precariously in the air. Then Zev's voice, calm and controlled, announced, "Daemor Leader, Daemor Two, losing vertical stability. I can't hold position. I'm pulling out."
Before Janson could answer, Zev's wingman announced, "Daemor Two, I've got it covered! Daemor Leader, I'm on your six!"
"Copied," Janson confirmed, watching for a moment longer as Senesca's X-wing lumbered forward, still firing, then pulled up into the cloud. "Aurek!" he ordered into his comlink, turning and heading for the ramp. "Get a move on!"
"Copied," Ariisi confirmed, turning to look at Tarja Karsaar and Skywalker. "Time to go," she told them. "You ready?"
Fear lurched in Tarja's belly, tightening in her chest… but she nodded, telling the Rebel Sergeant. "I'm ready."
"Ready," Skywalker confirmed from the chair.
Luke turned his attention to the shuttle, pushing down the growing sense of dread as he looked out across the twenty feet of empty space between it and the medical centre. The shuttle was taking fire, but an X-wing hovered behind and above it, returning the Imperial barrage.
"You follow us out!" Ariisi told Tarja. "You head for that shuttle and you don't stop!"
Cara Dune grasped Vyre's arm pressing the muzzle of her rifle into his neck, just below his ear, warning, "You best not stop, either, Colonel."
Before he could answer, Ariisi moved out of the door, the rest of her squad at her heels. They fanned out, dropping to their knees and firing towards the Imperial troops.
Tarja took a deep breath… and ran, guiding the chair ahead of her.
Luke saw Wes Janson appear from inside the shuttle. And then he heard a voice calling his name. Deep and resonant, it echoed through his head, stabbing fear deep inside of him. He took a breath, his gaze pulled to the dark figure of Vader… and everything seemed to slow to half speed.
Vader took a step forward, lightsaber igniting. Behind him, a woman in a sand-coloured uniform drew her aim away from the hovering X-wing, towards Janson. Behind her, another squad of Stormtroopers began to emerge from around the far corner of the medical centre.
There were too many of them…
A deep thrum of heat began to expand through Luke's feet. He recognised it, remembering the frantic incapacitation it threatened, and it galvanised him into action. If he didn't move to stop the stormtroopers, to stop Vader, then everything would be lost…
The Force was still distant to him, but it was there. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, focussing on the insubstantial presence of the Force, trying to block out the heat that spread up his legs. The Force coalesced, threading around him. Luke sensed the Rebel personnel: wraith-like in mist. He sensed the dark shadow of Vader. He sensed the shaded haze of the Stormtroopers beyond. He couldn't see individuals… but it was enough.
He moved, turning out of the chair and coming to his feet. Attention on the cold, ominous, shade of the Imperial troops, he was only vaguely aware of the pain that washed outward from deep inside him, displacing the heat in his legs. He was aware of movement to his left as Hobbie's gurney was pushed out of the medical centre, Derlin and Artoo appearing behind them. He was aware of movement to his right as Tarja Kaarsar slid to a halt and turned towards him.
He took a deep breath, drawing on the tendrils of the Force. Then he threw out his hands, pushing out through the Force towards the assembled Imperial troops.
Shoving Vyre ahead of her, Cara Dune watched in stunned disbelief as the stormtroopers lifted in a wave of white armour, flying backwards through the air. The Sheriff and her Deputy were pushed back, into the wall of the medical centre, tumbling to the ground. Vader stumbled backwards, but stayed upright, lightsaber still held ready.
For a long moment, as the Stormtroopers crashed to the ground behind him, Vader studied his son. There was no hate, no fear, no malice. The boy was not embraced by the Dark side of the Force. Instead he was bathed in the Light. He was not lashing out in vengeance: he was protecting the Rebels in complete disregard for his own safety.
Even as the realisation formed, the echoes of his son's agony whispered through the Force. Vader watched the strength drain away; watched as Luke crumpled. He watched as Karsaar and a Rebel soldier moved, reaching his son before he hit the ground, catching him.
Vader took another step forward.
Dune saw Skywalker collapse. At the edge of her vision she saw the black shape of Vader move. She pushed Vyre hard, sending him stumbling forwards, yelling, "Run!" as she swung her blaster rifle towards Vader, taking aim.
The blaster bolt hit Vader high in the chest, knocking him backwards onto the pavement. He landed hard, and lay for a moment, stunned by the impact. The respirator unit pushed breath into his lungs. He reached out through the Force, trying to sense anything of his son. Rolling onto his side, pushing himself up onto his knees, he looked towards the shuttle.
Karsaar and the soldier had hooked their arms beneath Luke's and were dragging him backwards up the ramp of the shuttle. Vyre had also reached the shuttle. Three other Rebel soldiers followed, one pushing a gurney, another protecting the third with his body. More Rebels were emerged from the facility, firing towards him. A blaster bolt sizzled past his head and he flowed to his feet, ignited his lightsaber again, intercepting the bolts, sending them back towards the Rebels.
Cara Dune's training as a soldier over-rode her surprise at seeing Vader wielding the weapon. She'd heard stories about him, but had never believed them. Still firing at Vader, she saw the downed stormtroopers behind him started climbing to their feet.
Close! This was going to be too damned close!
Something hit her, hard, in the chest, lifting her off her feet, dumping her on her back. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, pain exploding through her head. She lay, unable to breath. Then she was being dragged from the ground. Instinct kicked back in and she lifted her blaster rifle, firing again in Vader's direction, aware only of the red blur of light from the weapon standing out against the black of his clothing.
Vader strode towards the shuttle. The last of the Rebels reached the ramp, two of them dragging a third between them. The ramp began to close.
X-Wings screamed overhead, guns spitting covering fire. The shuttle lifted and turned, climbing away into the clouds. The remaining, lone X-wing hovered a moment longer, dipping its nose, almost as if in salute. And then it, too, rose upward to disappear into the cloud.