AN: Thank you all for your patience while you wait for DRL to allow me time to write and post.

Dark Times: Chapter Two

Pale Shelter

Part 6

Luke stared at the corrugated ceiling of the medical centre tracing the ridges and grooves with his eyes, noticing a thin crack in the old durasteel the Rebellion had bastardised to function as a roof. He was glad it wasn't raining he didn't think the thrumming of his headache would be able to stand the noise. He sighed in frustration and closed his eyes. They had offered him a sedative, offered him another few hours in the bacta tank, but he had refused both as he had tried to get them to listen to him. He didn't need sleep, he didn't need to be incapacitated in bacta – he needed to get out of here, needed to get command to believe that Ra'imar was in danger.

He had tried to explain to Narra and to the doctor, had pleaded with them to believe him, that his feeling of danger was strong, that he knew Vader would be coming, and soon. But his commander and the medic had merely picked him up from the floor and deposited him back on the bed. They had tried to placate him, tried to calm him and ease his panic. But they hadn't believed him, had put his behaviour down to post traumatic stress, and when the doctor thinly threatened to sedate him against his wishes Luke had quietened immediately.

But the feeling of danger did not quieten and in the few hours since he had first felt it, it had grown in intensity.

He was coming…

It was stronger than the danger he had felt on Escaal before the troopers had stormed his hiding place. Then it was a vague stirring in his belly and raised hairs on the back of his neck. This was stronger; a nausea twisting his gut, consternation growing so thick and solid that his blood ran cold with fear.

He couldn't just lie here and let him come, he couldn't lie here and allow the base be over run. He couldn't lie here and allow himself to be taken again.

"We will speak at length, Young One."

Luke had no desire to discuss anything with the Dark Lord. He threw back the thin sheet that covered him and, grimacing with the pain and stiffness in his back, he sat up and reached for the white hospital gown that lay near the bed. He planted his feet on the cold floor and tested his balance, his strength. When convinced that he wasn't just going to keel over he gingerly drew on the gown.

"Lieutenant-Commander Skywalker," Too-One-Bee's soft tones interjected. "You should not be doing that. Your injuries have not yet healed sufficiently to…."

"I'm fine," he lied, trying to reassure the droid as he drew the IV from his arm with a hiss of pain.

"You should not do that, sir," the droid admonished again. "I shall have to alert…."

Luke carefully drew on the robe and fastened the belt around his waist. "You do what you have too, One-Bee and I'll do the same." Turning away from the droid he cautiously took a few unstable steps. His legs felt weak and rubbery beneath him, but at least they took his weight and hadn't just folded beneath him. With his hand bracing his back he limped to the door.

"Sir," One-Bee tried again as the portal opened.

"I'll be back," Luke assured him without turning around; it would have hurt too much. "I need to do this." The door closed behind him and he paused and leaned against it as he tried to catch his breath. He was dismayed at how much energy he had expended just to cross from his bed to the corridor and he wondered where he would find the inner resources to get to Red Flight's bunk room without falling flat on his face.

A droid twitter of surprise caught his attention, he looked down and a wide grin of genuine pleasure lit up his face. "Artoo!" Whistling out a question, the droid trundled over to him. Luke laid his palm on Artoo's dome. "I'm fine, Artoo, really," he said wondering how the little droid had made it back to the base. He remembered seeing the droid capsule of his X-Wing floating down several kilometres away after he had ejected above Escaal and he vaguely remember seeing droid treads when Dade, Rhovan or whatever he now called himself, dragged him from the detention centre. Had that been Artoo? And did it really matter? His friend was here and was safe and doing as he had always done – looking out for his master.

"I could use your help, little buddy," he told Artoo, leaning a little heavier on the droid's cool body shell for support. "I need to get to the bunk room, think you can help me?"

The little droid tooted his assent and, together again, they slowly made their way through the base to Red Squad's quarters.

ooOOoo

Darth Vader strode down the ramp of the shuttle and, ignoring the troops who had been hastily put together to welcome him back on board the Executor, he walked directly toward Ozzel.

"My Lord," Ozzel bowed his head briefly in respect to his superior, and then he had to turn around quickly as Vader passed him without breaking his stride. "All stations report ready, we await your orders," he reported as he fell into Vader's pace.

Vader nodded, acknowledging the man's report. Soon. Soon his son would be within his grasp and this time he would not loosen it and allow the boy to escape. Anticipation thrilled through him, he had not been this eager to see someone since…

Ani, Something wonderful has happened..

He shook himself, tossed away the memories of that other life and focused on the now. He gathered the Force to him, drew in its dark tendrils and welcomed the coolness that settled within. Soon…

"My Lord?" Ozzel prompted carefully.

"Set a course for the Ra'imar sector," Vader told him. "Commence an aerial bombardment once we are in orbit but target hangers and ships only, leave the buildings intact. Have the troopers ready for a surface attack. I want prisoners." He turned and looked at Ozzel. "Have all personnel familiar with Luke Skywalker's likeness. He should be located in the Rebel's medical facilities and he will be taken alive." He emphasised the will, making sure that the unspoken threat was understood.

"It will be done, My Lord," Ozzel reassured him, bowing again.

ooOOoo

Someone had left a packing crate outside the bunkroom and Luke gingerly eased himself down to sit for a moment to catch his breath again and to allow the aches of his body to fade to a more bearable level.

Artoo twittered out his concern as Luke placed a hand to the small of his back and winced.

"I'm fine, Artoo," he gently panted, lying. His body was tingling, his legs trembled, his back flared with pain and still the feeling of urgency was pressing on him making him push his body beyond its current capabilities, causing adrenaline to spike and for nausea to roll in his empty gut and he vaguely wondered when he last had something solid to eat – in the tunnels, the ration bar while he waited for Taln to return, before his capture.

"Take the shirt off."

He blanched with the sudden memory of standing sodden and shivering before Dade and he quickly pushed the images away. He didn't want to think of this, didn't want to deal with this just now and he certainly didn't want to go through the same again. He drew himself to his feet; Vader was coming and he didn't intend that anyone should be here when the Imperials arrived. He palmed open the door of the squad room and peered into the gloom. He could hear the deep breathing of sleep, the occasional mutter and very light snoring as his squad mates rested.

"Wedge!" He hissed in the general direction of Antilles' bunk. "Wedge!" He pressed the switch for the lights and the fluorescents brightly flared bringing loud curses and protests from those it wakened.

"What the f…?"

"We're sleeping here!"

"It can't be that time already!"

Pillows and blanket's were drawn over heads.

"Put out the damned light!"

Luke ignored them all. "Wedge!"

"Skywalker?"

"Hey, look who's up and about!"

"Luke?" A dark, tousled head appeared from a bundle of bedclothes and Wedge Antilles groggily looked at Luke. "Sheesh, Skywalker you look like shit. What the hell are you doing out of the med-centre?"

Any other time Luke would have had a quick come back, but now wasn't the time. "We need to move, Wedge. We need to suit up."

Wedge was immediately fully awake and sliding from his bunk, the others in the squad doing likewise. "Problem?" He asked Luke as he pulled on his pants.

"Narra didn't believe me, put it down to trauma," Luke told him as he limped to his own bunk and locker, although a Lieutenant-Commander Luke shared the room with the others with only Narra having the luxury of a private room.

"How soon?" Wedge asked now moving to assist Luke who was struggling to dress himself.

"Not sure…" Luke trailed off, paused to consider what the Force was trying to tell him and, not for the first time, he wished Ben had been able to teach him a lot more. "Soon. We need to get command to listen, we need them to evacuate." Wincing and grimacing, Luke eased into his spare flight suit and harness – the originals left behind on Escaal – and lifted his second helmet. This was the one he wore when he destroyed the Death Star and he had kept it when issued with a new one. He hoped it would bring him the same luck this time around.

Wedge watched his friend grimace, heard the light hiss of pain as Luke fastened his harness. "You fit?" he asked although he already knew the answer and knew, too, that Luke would lie.

"I'm fit," Luke assured him. He turned to Artoo and handed the droid his helmet to hold for him. "Go with the flight, see if there is a wing for me. I'll meet you at the hanger." He took a step and his knees folded beneath him. Wedge caught him, brought him upright and supported him.

"Fit, huh?" Antilles smiled.

"Just get me to command," Luke told him, tightly as fresh sweat beaded him forehead from his exertion and pain. "We're running out of time."

Wedge ignored the impatience in Luke's voice knowing it was pain and discomfort talking. "Whatever you say, Boss." He lifted his own helmet and threw it to his wingman then, taking Luke's arm and supporting some of his friend's weight, they headed for the command centre while their squad and Artoo filed out to the hangers.

ooOOoo

Leia Organa woke from a light sleep and sat up with a low groan. She had been seated by the hologame board in the Falcon's passenger area going over some recent figures of the Alliance resources and, despite her anxiousness about the lack of supplies and heavy losses the Rebellion had been suffering, she must have dozed off and lain down. She was mildly amused to find a blanket had been placed over her as she had slept and she wondered if it had been Captain Solo or Chewbacca who had been so considerate.

She placed the blanket to the side, stood and smoothed down her shirt and pants trying in vain to flatten out the wrinkles in the cloth. She sighed and made her way forward to the Falcon's cockpit as she tucked a few strands of loose hair back behind her ears. She found Solo and Chewbacca seated in their usual places.

"Mornin'!" Han smiled at her as she entered and sat behind them and Leia knew that it had been the Corellian who had covered her. She was a little disturbed that he had seen her at her most vulnerable and yet touched that he had been so thoughtful.

"How long?" she enquired as she slipped into the seat behind them. She stared out at the curling, twisting lights of hyperspace beyond the ship.

Han threw a quick glance at her over his shoulder. "'Bout another hour," he told her. She looked tired, worn and seeing her sleeping earlier had touched something in him. That he cared about her was undeniable to himself, if not to others, but getting close to her was practically impossible. Only Luke had seemed able to penetrate her hardened shell and Han suddenly found himself jealous of his young friend's ability and his position of confidant and friend to the Princess Organa.

He shook himself, feeling ridiculous and a little guilty given what had surely happened to Luke in the last few weeks. The kid would need his friends, not competition for the Princess's affections. "Just enough time to put your make-up on to greet your loyal subjects, your highnessness." He didn't know why he said it, maybe to put some distance between them, to fight his growing feelings for her, but his tone was rougher than he had intended.

Leia knew she shouldn't be surprised at his sarcasm, but she was. Surprised and a little confused and hurt. First he shows concern by covering her as she sleeps, then he berates her position once more. He really was a confusing and irritating man. She swallowed her anger, not wishing to bicker or fight with him this time, but her words were clipped nonetheless. "Perhaps I'll do just that, Captain, thank you." She rose and left the cockpit.

There was silence in the cockpit for short while and then Chewbacca grunted quietly.

Han shot his friend an irritated look. "I ain't apologising, so just drop it Chewie." And he turned to stare out at the turmoil of hyperspace while ignoring the turmoil of his own emotions.

ooOOoo

The Command Centre was quiet, the night-shift personnel busy monitoring the sensors around the base and the squad of X-Wings who were currently patrolling the solar system. There was a steady buzz of whispered communication mixing with the hum of electronics. Wedge and Luke paused at the door and looked around, searching for the officer in charge that evening. Wedge was concerned about his friend, he could feel the light tremors of fatigue that ran through Luke's body, could feel him stiffen every time his back would spasm with pain. He could hear the laboured breathing even although Luke tried his damnedest to stifle it. But the pilot also knew that he could do nothing to persuade Luke to take it easier and that Skywalker would push on with, or without, him.

"Shit," Luke whispered under his breath, his stomach falling with added anxiety when he saw who was on duty that evening. The officer was bending over a communications relay station watching the operator work. "It's Redhr."

Wedge groaned. Colonel Redhr was a stickler for protocol and procedures and was notorious for chewing out those personnel who failed to meet his exacting standards. However, they had to try. Wedge pulled Luke a little straighter and supported him as they approached the officer.

"Colonel!" Luke called. He put as much strength into his voice as he could muster. He was in agony; his back injury grating with each movement and he could feel his legs weaken with every step. The painkillers he'd been given in the med-centre were wearing off and his headache pounded harder. But the feeling of danger was growing by the minute and Luke knew they were running out of time. "May we speak with you?"

The Colonel glanced over and immediately frowned when he saw Luke. He straightened and approached them. "Lieutenant-Commander Skywalker should you not be in the medical centre?" His tone of voice left no room for debate.

"Sir…" Luke began. He faltered, hesitated wondering how in hell he was going to persuade the Colonel to sound the general alarm and evacuate the base without a shred of proof that they were in danger. Then he blurted it out. "Sir, we have to evacuate the base."

There was a moment of stillness, when everything seemed to stop and all eyes in the command centre turned to focus on him. Anger slowly worked its way over the Colonel's already severe face and Luke felt like a wamp-rat caught in the crosshairs of a blaster cannon, but he stood his ground.

"And," Redhr whispered tightly, "what evidence do you have to support such drastic and costly action, Lieutenant-Commander?"

It was Wedge who came to Luke's aid. "Gut instinct, sir. Luke knows when something's not right. He's saved our asses countless times." And, as he said it, Wedge realised how feeble it actually sounded. He felt Luke wilt beside him.

"Ah-huh…" the Colonel fixed his eyes on Luke, "and this would be due to your alleged Jedi heritage?"

Luke bridled at the word "alleged" and he had to bite back his own anger, it would do him no good to lose his temper here. "The Force, sir," he stated as confidently as possible. "I know we're in danger. Please alert General Rieekan."

"I'll do know such thing!"

"Sir, please… You have to…"

The Colonel turned to the communications officer, sharply talking over the top of Luke's protests. "Request an escort to have the Lieutenant-Commander taken back to the medical centre where he will remain until deemed fit for duty."

"…listen to me! The base is in danger and…"

Redhr's anger could be seen visibly rising in his cheeks. "I need more than 'gut instinct,' Skywalker! I need a valid reason for waking the General with this preposterous notion!"

Wedge felt helpless, felt he could do little but stand by and watch this man belittle his friend and that stirred his own anger. "Sir, Luke's record stands for itself! He's never wrong about these things. If you could only waken the General he would…"

The Colonel drew him a vicious look but did not deign to answer him. He kept his focus solely on Luke as the door to the command centre opened to admit two armed soldiers; a tall, brutish man and a small, slender woman. "Ah, Sergeant," he addressed the woman. "Please escort Commander Skywalker and his…" he paused, glancing at Wedge. "…moral support back to whence they came."

"Of course, Sir," the sergeant replied. She turned to look at Luke and Wedge. "Sirs, if you'll come with me." Her tone left no room for debate.

Luke's head was buzzing, his anxiety becoming full-blown panic. He could feel his blood rushing through his head, pounding incessantly. Cold sweat formed on his brow, trickled down the side of his face. It was hard to think through the urgency of the Force and the pain of his own body. There had to be something he could say, something more he could offer to convince the Colonel that his feelings were true and they really were in danger. That the Empire was coming and that people would die. He closed his eyes to the room, to the people in it as he searched for an idea, something to say. Something that would convince them that their home here was…

Home…

"You told us, Luke"

"You gave us home."

Dade, or Rhovan, or whoever he was, had tried to trick him. Had tried to make him believe that he had given them the base during his interrogation, that somehow through all the torture he had disclosed without realising it. He felt Wedge's supporting arm around his waist beginning to turn him, as the pilot gave up their attempt to save the base, and he opened his eyes to see the soldiers move in to take up their escort, he saw Redhr begin to move away from them as he returned to his duties. And he knew what he had to do, no matter the consequences.

"I told," he said quietly.

He felt Wedge stiffen beside him as Redhr stopped and turned back to regard him with narrowed eyes.

"What?"

Luke swallowed, the hurry of his feelings pushing him on, his heart hammering in his chest as he forced out the words. " I told… I.. I told them where we were."

It was as though a chill had settled over the room. The escort soldiers stepped away from him as Redhr stepped closer to stand over him and even Wedge's grip loosened a little. In the middle of a busy room Luke suddenly felt very alone.

"Explain yourself, Lieutenant-Commander," Redhr barked.

Luke hung his head as nausea rolled in his belly and he fought the urge to retch. "When they…. When I…. " he couldn't say it, couldn't explain it, couldn't uttered the words that would sum up his captivity. He could only lie to save them all. "I …I gave them our location. They… the Empire… They know where we are."