Signs of Life
By JalendaviLady
Chapter 4
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.
If you recognize any characters, locations, or things in the following story, George Lucas owns them.
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Luke curled up tighter under the
blankets.
Something's wrong. He wasn't acting
like this last night.
//Father? What's
wrong?// He felt so weak…
//Just give me a little
while, Luke.// A tentative, half-hearted Force-embrace that almost
harmed more than it helped. Luke's dim and druggy response was
followed by another Force-wail from Anakin.
The whine of
speeder engines. "That should be Han and the medics,"
Leia commented.
"Does he know?" Anakin asked,
sounding as though he was choking on each word.
"Yes."
"And…?"
"It took him a while
to calm down, but he's willing to give you a chance to prove
you've changed."
"Like I'll be well
enough to prove myself anytime soon," came the softly whispered
reply.
The sound of the hatchway opening intruded on whatever
reassurances either Luke or Leia could have tried to give him.
"Leia?"
"We're back here, Han."
She walked forward, giving Anakin's hand a squeeze and patting
Luke's shoulder on the way.
"Father, what's
wrong with you?" Luke whispered. "You weren't
depressed like this last night. What's wrong?" Luke felt
tears gathering in his eyes as he pleaded with his father weakly.
"Happy birthday, Leia!" came Han's muffled
voice.
Luke looked over at Anakin, knowing the older Jedi
would see his confusion plastered all over his face. //Leia always
told me her birthday was nearly three months from now. //
//Today,
as in the day that started only a few seconds ago, is the birth date
listed on her adoption papers. I saw a copy once.// He seemed to do
arithmetic on his fingers for a moment. //Right time of the year,
too. //
//So this whole depression thing is linked to my and
Leia's probable real 21st birthday? //
Arguing voices
wafted in from farther forward in the ship. All's well with
the universe.
The Force-equivalent of a nod. //I've
been a horrible father to both of you. //
//But you're
changing that. // Luke held his father in the strongest Force-embrace
he could attempt at the moment.
//Some father I am. Left my
children alone for years. Hunted them in the last years of First
Youth. And my gift to my son on his 21st birthday is several weeks'
stay in a medcenter. //
//And the Father he's longed to
know all his life. //
More sobbing, less desperate-sounding
than before. //Because he wasn't there. //
//Doesn't
matter. You're here now. The past is unchangeable, no matter
how hard anyone may wish it to have been different. //
Leia
walked in, followed by Han. "Hey. Kid. Still can't leave
you alone for five minutes without you getting into trouble, can we?"
Luke smiled weakly. The ex-smuggler ruffled his hair slightly
before turning to the room's other bed-ridden occupant.
Han
pulled a small datapad out of a pocket on his jacket and pressed it
into Anakin's hand. "Mothma wanted you to have this
before the medics drag you up to Home One. It's not the
original, but it is an official copy."
Luke couldn't
see Anakin's face when the elder Jedi began looking at whatever
document was on the datapad, but he felt his shock through the Force.
"What is it?" he asked weakly.
"A full
pardon, direct from Mothma and both the military and political
leadership. Nearly unanimous."
"'Nearly'?"
Leia asked.
"The Bothan furball wouldn't sign.
Tried to start a movement for immediate execution, in fact. Failed,
of course. Ackbar looked like he was about to throw the furball out
the nearest airlock, in fact," Han answered.
"'Bothan
furball'?" Anakin asked.
Leia excused herself to
escort the medics in.
"Fey'lya. Don't worry
about it. The pardon holds anyway. And Mon Mothma made sure it was
worded in such a way that it couldn't be rescinded. Just
relax."
Luke could see his father close his eyes. "How
can you even stand to be near me, after all I did..."
"Because I think people deserve second chances."
The medics came in and started examining both Luke and
Anakin, cutting off all future attempts at conversation.
Leia
sat next to Luke as one of the medics gently grasped his arm. "You're
in bad shape. We need to sedate you in order to treat most of your
injuries. Transport to Home One will not be pleasant, given
your condition. We can go ahead and give you the drugs now, if you
wish."
"Fine," Luke mumbled.
A prick
on his arm, and the world slowly swirled into darkness as Leia
loosely held him in her arms.
...
Leia watched with
worry as both her brother and father slipped into induced
unconsciousness. She stood carefully, letting Luke settle gently back
onto the bunk.
"They'll be fine," Han
reassured her, wrapping an arm around her waist. "They just
need time and care."
"The last thing they needed
was the attack this morning."
He held her close.
A
choked off something behind them. Father! Leia spun around in alarm.
The medics had taken the oxygen mask off his face and were
replacing it with a more complicated apparatus. He was obviously
struggling against some part of the process.
It has a
mouthpiece, she realized. He's unconscious... He thinks
they're putting him back in that horrible mask.
She
walked over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. //It's
not the mask,// she tried to tell him. //They wouldn't do a
thing like that, and I wouldn't let them if they tried. It's
just a clear plastic breath mask with a mouthpiece and a little
thingy to go up your nose, to let you breathe easier than the other
did. It's not the mask. You're okay and safe.//
He
seemed to relax a bit and the medics managed to get it securely on
his face. She held onto him for a moment more, both for his
reassurance and hers. //See, it's ok, it's all gonna be
ok. Just keep holding on. Please, Father, just keep holding on.//
She thought she felt some sort of instinctual reaction at
that, saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.
"Princess
Leia, we need you and General Solo to move out so we can move them
properly," one of the medics told her gently.
She drew
away slowly, letting Han guide her outside.
"Where are
the others?"
"Chewie, Lando, and the droids went
ahead to Home One," he told her. The rest of the group split to
their usual commands. Everyone involved in the ground battle gets
mandatory two weeks off duty, the rest of non-essential personnel are
pulling staggered half-shifts."
They walked over to the
medical shuttle and into the passenger area in silence.
Leia
sat in one of the passenger seats on the shuttle, head pillowed on
Han's shoulder.
"You doing ok, Your
Highnessness?"
"Huh?"
"It's
been a long war, a long week, and a long day. You got grazed in the
battle, didn't sleep last night – don't think I
didn't hear you pacing the entire time between when you said
you were going to try to rest and when you left to find them, fought
off three Imperials, and then tended two sick Force-users for an
entire day. Are you ok?"
"I think. My arm stopped
hurting a while ago."
"You still need the medics
to look at it. The battle may or may not have nearly won us the war.
But it does give us time, Princess. For once, the Rebellion can
actually sit somewhere and let wounds heal. Properly."
"I'll
get it looked at tomorrow." She yawned.
"It's
been a long day. You need to rest."
"Mind if I
take a nap?"
"Not at all, Your Highnessness."
He held her closer. "Not at all."
She woke with a
start some time later when he started to stand. "Wha?"
"We're on Home One. They just transferred
Luke and Anakin to the medcenter. Both still unconscious, but word
has it they've settled in fine."
"I slept
that long?"
"You needed the rest, Sweetheart."
He kissed her forehead. "You didn't sleep last night, and
the night before you only got a few hours of rest. C'mon, they
need us to get off this shuttle. Don't you have quarters
somewhere onboard?"
She nodded, reciting the location
sleepily. He gently guided her out of the shuttle as she stumbled,
trying to stay upright. At some point she felt him pick her up and
begin carrying her.
She drifted off into sleep, cradled in
his arms, not caring what anyone might think.
Let them
gossip. I'm tired.
...