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Part Four

"You have some news for me, Ayrn?" Mahkren asked of the Major. He was becoming impatient for some results from the search of the city. However, thus far all he had was angry citizens, angry shipping companies, and a very annoyed Primary Interrogator complaining of his cells filling up with whatever dross Ayrn scraped off the streets. Soon Coruscant would be breathing down his neck.

"Yes, Sir," Ayrn said quickly. "The droid proved worthless. The technician working on him has reported it must have sustained terminal damage during the crash. He has sent it for scrap."

"Droid!" Mahkren roared, standing. "You come in here to tell me about a droid? Where is the Rebel? Where is the Resistance!"

Ayrn took a step back, a mask of fear momentarily covering his face. Then he gathered himself. "I'm coming to that, General. We are on the verge of arresting a suspect."

"Who?" Mahkren breathed.

"A doctor, Sir. He's made several journey's in the last two weeks since the attack to the, ah... Imperial Esplanade area of the city."

The General sat down. "That is an exclusive area, Ayrn. I have a house there. It is not uncommon for a doctor to make house calls to affluent patients."

Ayrn shifted his feet on the plush carpet of Mahkren's office. "I'm aware of that, Sir. It is the only area of the city we have not searched..."

Mahkren shook his head, clearly unhappy with the implied meaning of Ayrn's statement. "I won't allow it! Not without evidence. Too many of my neighbours have contacts elsewhere, to anger them would be foolhardy." Not to mention career damaging.

Ayrn smiled. "I am sure the doctor will give us the evidence, Sir."

"How so?"

"I have had him investigated, Sir," he announced pleased with himself. "He has recently commandeered several items of medical equipment which, after checking the medical records of his patients, do not appear to have been used on any of them."

"Such as?" Mahkren's interest was piqued.

"More recently a back brace and crutches. Just after the attack, a bacta cast, calcium cement, and several weeks supply of pain killers and anti-inflammatories."

The General sat back into his chair, grinning, feeling that at last there was some movement in the search, that perhaps soon the Rebel pilot would be in his grasp "Then bring him in," he ordered. "Hand him to Rhovan for questioning."

Ayrn saluted before spinning on his heel. "Yes, sir!"

Luke splashed water on his face, rinsed off the soap and reached for the towel he'd placed over the side of the sink and dried himself. Taking the crutches from against the wall he hobbled back over to the cot and eased himself down. He could still hear Taln and the physician talking outside the door. The discussion was heated, but their voices kept low and Luke knew neither of them wanted him to overhear what they were saying.

He lifted up the plain blue shirt Isla had provided for him and drew it on to cover the brace he wore. It, the black briefs, and dark blue pants the doctor had helped him get into, were expensively cut and Luke felt a little uncomfortable in the fine material that clung to his body for a more decorative effect than practical function.

He picked up a packet of pills and popped two of them into his hand before placing them into his mouth and lifting a glass of the water Isla had brought down. He took a drink to wash the tablets down. He was still sore. The exercises the doctor had taken him through were simple, but they had left him aching and tired. His back had cramped up, the muscles taut and stiff, and he reached behind trying to massage away the pain from himself, trying to sit straight. The brace bit into his skin, scratching and itching.

"You're a liability!" Taln burst out from beyond the door. "Dade will..."

"Keep your voice down!" the medic answered and the conversation continued again with whispered, angry tones, too low for Luke to hear.

He felt awkward, embarrassed, out of place here and hoped the men weren't fighting about him. He was grateful to these people, owed them his life, his safety, but he was also very aware of the danger that his presence here placed them in. As he healed he had tried to ask Taln about this place, about the Resistance, the Imperial presence on Escaal. But his questions were politely deflected, or he was told that knowing too much information about anything or anyone could be hazardous to them all. Luke understood this, but it was a conversation killer, and hardly conducive to building any kind of relationship with anyone let alone the man who had been given the task of remaining with him and protecting him.

But, then, perhaps that was the idea. Taln was protecting himself and the Resistance more than he was protecting Luke.

"Ah," he whispered to himself, wriggling his toes in the cast. "Ah, shit..." He rubbed the cast against the side of the cot, hissing in frustration. "Shit...shit...ah!" His ankle itch was back with a vengeance. It wouldn't be so bad if he could have bent down and stuck his finger down the side of the cast, but his back wouldn't allow him to attempt even that movement!

He pulled himself back to lean against the wall, fighting to ignore the prickle, taking comfort in the doctor's promise that the cast could be removed within a day or two. The monotony of hiding was getting to him. The days filled with the same dullness was sapping his strength. He should be with his squad running patrols and missions, enjoying the camaraderie of their company. He should be leading them into battle, drinking to their successes and to their losses. He should be with Han and Leia...

Where the hell were they anyway? He'd been expecting his impulsive Corellian friend to throw open the door, grin at him and offer some flippant remark before dragging him out and escaping to the Millennium Falcon under a flurry of Imperial blaster fire. And once there, to an embrace of reunion with Leia; to a Wookiee hug from Chewbacca and fussing from Threepio. But as the reality of his situation overshadowed his dreams, that expectation was now only a very dim hope. There would be no wild rescue, merely a very slow wait for the Imperials to lose interest in him.

Or find him.

Luke threw the thought away as he realised there was silence outside the door. He wanted to be able to pretend he had been doing something other than trying to listen as Taln returned, but given the only other thing he could have been doing was sleeping, he merely sat where he was and let the man think what he wanted.

"Well," Taln commented with a smirk, with none of the anger that Luke had heard in his voice earlier. However, Luke could see the man was deeply concerned, no matter how lightly he spoke. "Going clubbing?"

Luke smiled, glancing down at the shirt. "Its... um... not really me," he pulled at the fabric covering his chest. "Where did Isla get it?"

"You don't need to know." It wasn't said maliciously, just matter of factly and with a smile.

Taln chuckled at the sigh he got in response, and the resigned look on the boy's face. He sat down by the door again. "This is hard for you," he stated needlessly, but recognising that Luke was almost bored to tears by the situation.

"You can tell, huh?" Luke replied, trying to inject some humour into his voice and failing miserably. He looked at Taln, saw his own tiredness reflected by the other man. "Can't be easy for you either, baby sitting me."

"Nope, you're a pain in the ass, kid."

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Luke laughed lightly, thinking of Han. He was beginning to feel the pills he had taken take effect as the pain from his back receded to bearable levels. "But, that's not what I meant. You must have family..."

Taln's face darkened. "No." He rose from the chair, cross to the sink and ran some water, washing his hands.

Luke recognised that he'd touched on a difficult subject and that Taln was attempting to deflect attention, to hide his emotions by the simple act. "The Empire killed my family, too," he told the man quietly. "Is that why you joined the Resistance?"

"Is that why you joined the Alliance?" Taln threw the question back at Luke.

Luke nodded to the man's back. "Yes. I saw what they did, what they left behind, and... Well, I had no other choice anyway."

Taln dried his hands and turned back around. He considered Luke for a moment before speaking. "You don't look old enough to have had a family of your own. Was it your parents?"

Luke shook his head, recalling his aunt and uncle. "No. My parents died years before. It was my guardians, my aunt and uncle who raised me."

"Aunt and uncle," Taln repeated, distracted a little, lost in his own memories. "It was my wife and child, my son."

And Luke felt sorry, remorseful. "I'm..."

"Sorry?" There was a little hitch of grief in Taln's voice, a little bitterness. He fell into the chair, stared at the ceiling. "You know, I even got an apology from the Empire? A standard; 'His Imperial Majesty regrets the deaths of your wife and son during the Rebel uprising.' Yeah, right, like the Emperor knew my boy, like he knew Cairn and his mother. Tried to blame it on the uprising when his troops fired on them, said they were in the wrong place at the wrong time." His voice was full of derision, contempt, anguish. He glanced back at Luke. "How old are you? Nineteen? Twenty?"

"Twenty," Luke confirmed softly.

"Just a kid," he announced, shaking his head. "You know you should be out there, going on dates with pretty girls," he gestured at the clothes Luke wore, "clubbing, partying and getting drunk. Not...this..." He trailed off, realising his emotions were getting the better of him. He drew in a deep breath trying to temper his feelings.

"I still date. Get drunk - occasionally," Luke told him, trying to be humorous, trying to help Taln gain control. "How old was your son?" He didn't know why he asked. No, that was a lie. He asked because he wanted to understand why Taln had attempted to remain so distant to him.

"He'd be seventeen now, if he'd lived. Fourteen when he died." And Taln met Luke's eyes, held the gaze for a moment then dropped it. "You need to repeat those exercises the doc showed you," he waved with his hands, motioning for Luke to get up, dismissing the previous conversation. He stood. "Here, I'll give you a hand."

Luke took Taln's hand, let the man help him to his feet and shuffled across the floor under Taln's directions and guidance. He felt humbled by Taln's story, had some of his curiosity answered and had gained some understanding of Taln's motives and his pain. Understood that, like him, Taln had wanted revenge on the Empire, had seen its rotten core for himself, had viewed the death's of loved ones and wanted, in some small way, to fight back.

The doctor fought the urge to gun the engine of his speeder and push it faster through the traffic. He knew Taln was right, but that didn't make him feel any less annoyed at the dressing down he'd received. Though, at least Taln hadn't spoken to him in front of Isla, or worse, the Rebel pilot. He applied the brakes, slowing a little to allow a larger transporter to take the space in front of him. Yes, he should be using the tunnels under the city and travelling by foot, but that would slow him up, test his already very tight schedule. He had his own patients to treat, and since the Rebel attack almost two weeks ago, his workload remained heavy. Travelling by speeder was quicker and he had only used it when he was pushed for time.

The traffic slowed as he reached the inner city area where his hospital was located, and he pulled his ID from his pocket knowing he was coming up on another checkpoint. He followed the troopers' directions and pulled up as the speeder before him was waved through.

He glanced up at the soldier by the side of his vehicle and handed over his ID.

"Where are you headed, Doctor Yian?" the soldier questioned.

"The Imperial Medical Centre."

"Where have you been?"

"As I said, when I passed through here earlier, I was seeing private patients." He injected a tone of annoyance into his voice.

The soldier gestured to another, more superior, trooper. The non-com approached and looked at the ID and then back at the physician. "Doctor Yian," he started. "Kindly step out of your vehicle."

"What?" Yian barked, suddenly afraid, as more soldiers surrounded his speeder. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Step out of your vehicle, Doctor. On the orders of Major Ayrn you are under arrest on suspicion of treason."

Yian got out of the speeder. "Tre... This is a mistake!" he blustered. "You can't arrest someone going about their legitimate business!" They bound his hands, pushed him towards a waiting troop carrier. "I want to see my advocate!" he demanded.

There was humour in the reply. "As a suspected traitor you have no rights to legal representation..."

Artoo Detoo quietly blooped along the empty corridor within Imperial Headquarters. It had been difficult biding his time and keeping silent as he had been prodded and poked and given commands that he'd had to re-route to disobey. But as soon as the chance had been given him he had silently activated himself. His main mission now was to locate his young master and be reunited with him.

A squad of troopers marched passed, and Artoo busily studied a blank metal wall. They paid no notice to him, and he continued on the way they had come, hoping to find an access port to the central computer and hoping his young master had not been captured.

Luke had been unable to sleep. It wasn't just the nagging ache from his back injury and his inability to find a comfortable position. It was too many days, with too little to do that had completely unbalanced his normal sleeping patterns - if you could call the sleep he got as an Alliance pilot a pattern - and lately he had been left staring into the darkness with only his own thoughts for company while Taln snored from the pallet he rolled out onto the floor every night. He was envious of the man's ability to start sleeping the minute he laid his head down.

Tonight was a little different, however, though Luke could not identify why. He had lain as usual staring into the darkness, and as usual sleep had not come, but instead of feeling weary and frustrated Luke was bright, his mind buzzing, his stomach churning with agitation. It reminded him of the feeling he got when his aunt and uncle died; of how he felt just before the Empire had surprise attacked their escort convoy near the Hasthaal system. It was an uneasy "knowing" feeling one he had grown to trust, one he suspected may be due to his untapped Force abilities - not that he'd much chance to think about them, to develop them any, since joining the Rebellion.

He threw off the blanket and struggled up from the cot.

"What y'doin?" Taln mumbled from the floor.

"Can't sleep," Luke told him, with concern. "Something's wrong."

Taln was immediately awake. "What do you mean? You in pain? Your back?"

Luke frowned, thinking, feeling. Wishing Ben Kenobi had been able to teach him more. "No, but something's about to happen."

"You're freakin' me out, Luke..." Taln warned.

Luke's anxiousness was growing. "I can't explain it, Taln. I just know.. sometimes... when things are going to happen," he explained with frustrated conviction. "And something is going to happen."

"Sometimes?" Taln repeated, lifting his eyebrows.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, but I'm usually right."

"But you don't know what's going to happen?"

"No, but it's strong." And getting stronger, the tight knot of nerves in his belly constricting further, adrenaline beginning to filter into his blood stream.

Taln rose from the floor, wincing as his bones creaked as he straightened. He snapped the light on. The younger man's words had struck a cord with him, caused his own stomach to roll, and as he folded up his pallet, he scrutinised Luke. Still so very young, a face still fresh - though a little pale - despite the war he had been fighting, the horrors he had seen, the friends and family he had lost. And there was more to him now; a maturity and a confidence that Taln had not previously seen. The boy met his gaze and Taln found it was he who looked away first, unsettled and uneasy. He tied up his bed bundle, pushed it under Luke's cot, and looked up at the younger man. "So, what do we do about this feeling of yours?"

"Get ready," Luke told him solemnly, as he reached for his shirt.