Missing

V.

Leia grabbed Luke's arm and pulled him into a small alcove; he was just about to protest, when he heard the sound of marching Stormtroopers. They held their breaths until the squad had passed. Then they relaxed, and rested for a short time.

Luke was tired. It was hot in the alcove, but Leia didn't seem to feel it; only he did. The heat sapped his energy, leaving him feeling weak. He had an overwhelming desire to close his eyes and sleep, but he knew he couldn't; not until the princess was safe. He coughed, scraping his lungs. Sweat soaked his clothing, making them cling annoyingly to his body. Liquid ran from the pores in his brow, down over his face, stinging his eyes. He lifted his hand to wipe away the offending secretion, but Leia took his arm, stopping him. She spoke, but her voice sounded hollow and distant.

"You're safe; rest a while."

Luke shook his head, puzzled; how could she say they were safe? "No, I have to save you."

Leia wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of her gown. "Rest," she told him firmly.

His reply was to seize her arm and pull her into the corridor. They could not afford to waste time; they had to get to the Millennium Falcon. He was determined to save her.

They dashed toward the Corellian and his co-pilot, who rested against the metal wall of the corridor. In front of them was the entryway to the docking bay, showing their goal, surrounded by Imperial Stormtroopers.

"What kept you?" The pirate barely spared them a glance.

"We, ah," Leia's voice held a tinge of sarcasm, "ran into some old friends."

Luke stared out at the ship and the soldiers around it. "Is the ship all right?" He brushed his wet hair from his face, wondering when it would dry; it had been a few hours since the incident in the garbage-compactor, and the heat of the station should have dried it by now. He looked at his companions. They didn't seem affected by the temperature, not even the Wookiee showed discomfort. Why was he the only one to suffer?

"Seems okay, if we can get to it," the Corellian answered his question. "Just hope the old man got the tractor beam out of commission."

Luke also hoped Ben had made it; otherwise, they would be stuck here.

He tried to see around the sides of the opening, wondering where the old Jedi was now. He watched the 'troopers leave their post and run toward something that was hidden from his view. "Look."

Han was pleased. "Now's our chance. Go!"

They dashed from the corridor into the docking bay, heading toward their only hope of escape. Luke glanced up. He slowed and stared toward the other side of the bay, where two figures were locked in combat. One was tall, dressed in black cloak and helmet. The other was smaller and dressed in a brown robe. ''Ben?" Luke changed his direction, all thoughts of escape gone; he was concerned only for the safety of his friend. He stopped as he watched Obi-wan raise his sword into a salute. His opponent took the advantage and cut the old man down. The cloak fluttered to the ground.

"NO!" Luke screamed, horrified. He brought his arms up to aim his stolen 'trooper blaster at the Imperials before him, but someone grabbed his arms roughly and pinned them to his sides. The weapon dropped from his grasp. Laser bolts whizzed past him. He looked around, trying to see the person who restrained him.

Han shouted to him, "Come on!"

Luke tried to free his arms, to retrieve the fallen weapon. He failed. He lashed out with his right foot, trying to hit his hidden assailant; pain shot up his leg and he cried out. The pressure from his right arm vanished, and he reached out for the blaster.

Leia beckoned to him from the hatch of the Falcon. "Come on, Luke! It's too late!"

"Blast the door, kid!" shouted Han.

Luke turned his attention to the blast door. The Stormtroopers were gone, but the dark giant who had killed Ben was now crossing into the docking bay. Luke raised the blaster to shoot the door, to halt the Imperials' advance. Again the gun was jerked from his grasp. Panic coursed through his body. "I can't!" he told Han. He couldn't move. Tears mingled with his sweat. He struggled desperately against his invisible bonds. Pressure grew on his chest, making breathing difficult.

"Calm down," a male voice told him.

"Ben?" Luke was confused; he glanced around, trying to see the speaker. He saw no one. The Falcon was gone! They had deserted him. Luke's terror increased; he was alone. He looked back and whimpered with desperation. No, he wasn't alone. The black knight moved closer, swinging his lightsabre. Luke pulled against his restraints, straining his muscles. The bonds tightened around his wrists. He cried out in pain and frustration.

"You're hurting him," said another voice, a woman's voice.

The disembodied voices intensified Luke's fear. The warmth around him was unbearable. He could hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest; the sound was synchronized with the throbbing in his head. The black-clad figure drew closer; Luke could now hear the hoarse, dry, mechanical breathing. Somehow he knew this man's name; Ben had told it to him on Tatooine: Darth Vader. Vader had killed his father, Ben, and now he was going to kill him. Luke tried to back away. Tried to make his legs work. "Please," he pleaded, "no!"

"You'll be all right." The woman again.

The Death Star docking bay dissolved, leaving Luke and Vader in a grey void. He was helpless; there wasn't anything he could do to save himself. "Ben," he appealed, to the man who had gained his trust; but Ben was dead. His eyes were drawn to the lightsabre in Vader's hand. The Dark Lord seemed to take great pleasure in allowing Luke time to study his weapon. He raised it into an attack position.

Luke knew he couldn't allow himself to die without fighting. He relaxed for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts, and the hold on his wrists also relaxed. Vader brought the sabre closer and Luke, caught in a moment of panic, lashed out. His fist struck the helmet of the Sith Lord; but it was soft, not hard like it should be.

The male voice cursed. "Keep still, dammit."

The pressure on his body increased once again, sending Luke reeling into the depths of despair. Vader had him. The sword swept toward him; Luke was pinned where he stood. The sabre blade struck his side and he screamed as the light seared his flesh. His world disappeared into a cloud of red pain which enveloped him. Gradually the red faded, leaving a dull pink. Luke opened his eyes and blinked in the harsh light.

"He's awake."

Luke turned his head, trying to find the woman who spoke. His body still burned. The figure above him was blurred, out of focus. He reached for her, only to find his arms still locked down. His panic began to rise again. "No," he moaned.

"You're safe." A cool damp cloth was placed on his warm forehead. "Rest now."

Luke fought to focus on her face, but failed. "Aunt Beru?"

"Help me, Alex." Luke's head was lifted and a cup was placed under his parched lips. "Try and drink some." The cup tipped, and water ran into his mouth. He choked, coughed, causing some of the liquid to spill over onto his chin. The woman wiped it off with the cloth.

"Slowly, "he was advised. "Sip it slowly."

He did so, relishing the cool sweetness of the water.

"Thank you," Luke whispered. He had no idea where he was, or who these people were; but he believed the woman when she said he was safe. "It's hot," he told them.

"I know," she said. "You have a fever." She wiped the sweat from his face again "Go to sleep; you'll feel better."

Calmed by her words and the cooling effect of the damp cloth, Luke found himself drifting into darkness; he didn't resist its pull.

ooOOoo

Alex and Mhari breathed a sigh of relief as their newly-appointed nephew fell back into seemingly peaceful sleep. The last few minutes had completely drained them as they fought to keep him still, to prevent further harm to his injuries. Once his restless movements became more frantic, Alex had decided the best thing to do would be to restrain him, and so the battle had begun. Using bandages, they tied his wrists, chest and left ankle to the bed; his right leg was fastened down just below the knee. Alex checked the bonds to be certain they were secure enough to withstand more convulsions, should they occur. He noted, with slight irritation that the boy had managed to further aggravate his broken ankle; fresh blood seeped through the dressing. He reached for the medical kit for clean bandages.

Mhari rinsed the cloth in the basin of cool water. "Do you think he'll live through this?"

Alex didn't answer.

"His fever's high. He should reach the crisis point soon." Concerned about hypothermia they had slowly warmed him with the thermal blanket. Now, however infection had set in and his temperature had dramatically risen. They didn't need their thermometer to realise the youth was in danger.

"We need Janis," Alex stated. He threw the soiled dressing to the floor and applied the new one to the wound.

"Is that wise, Alex, to involve someone else?"

"We either trust Janis, or let this boy die."

"But can we trust Denrick. Alex? We have our family to think of, If…"

"Denrick doesn't have to know what he is, "Alex interrupted." All he needs to know is that the boy's ill and needs his help. Any questions Denrick asks will be answered by our cover story." Alex stood and stretched; a yawn escaped him. "And I am thinking of our family, which is why I want to help. These Rebels just may be the ones to restore the peace and happiness this galaxy once had, and give our children a decent future."

Mhari glanced to the door, "You shouldn't speak like that, Alex; if Tamara and Brett should hear?"

"Tamara's old enough to understand; she's not a child, and Brett is too young to understand."

"But he could repeat it outside; you know what he's like."

Alex looked to his wife. Even after twenty years of marriage and a hard life, she still looked as beautiful to his eyes as she did the day they first met. But at this moment that beauty was marred by fatigue and nervousness. He took her in his arms. "I know you're worried, probably more for our safety than for the Rebel's life. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, too. But I think we can trust Denrick enough to bring him in. You have to understand why we're helping this young man. If we save his life, then it's our contribution to the Rebellion; the only one I'll allow us to make." He brushed her hair from her face. "Do you see?"

Mhari nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Now you go and wake Tamara. She said she'd take over if you got tired. Take some of the advice you gave him, and rest."

Mhari nodded once more and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you." She left to obey as Alex turned to pack away the medical kit.

Tamara appeared at the doorway after her mother's summons, still wearing her night clothes. She carried a book, an adventure story to keep her awake. Her mother had said watching someone sleeping wasn't much fun. "Mom said he'd convulsed," she said, warily glancing at the sleeping Rebel. "Is he okay!"

"Seems so for now." Alex spread the blanket back over their patient. "I'm going for a few hours' rest; I've still got a farm to run in the morning. If he starts convulsing again, give me a call; but I think he should be all right now." He crossed to the door. "If he wakes at all give him some water; he'll need it. " Alex left to join his wife.

Tamara settled into the chair next to the bed and pulled one of the spare blankets around her, to keep off the night chills. She lifted her book and began to read.

An hour later found her engrossed in the story; so far the hero had won the heart of the heroine, saved her from a fate worse than death in the swamps of Aarene III, and discovered the meaning of life in her arms. She was just about to dive into the fifth chapter when a slight moan from her charge frightened her from the story. She glanced at him, slightly alarmed. Putting down her book, she lifted her mother's cloth and tentatively dabbed his brow. He shivered, and she pulled the blanket more tightly around him.

She watched him closely, fearing another attack of convulsions; but he was quiet. She sighed with relief as she sat back, lifting her book once more; but she did not resume reading. Her gaze was drawn to the young man on the bed. It occurred to her that, although now his skin was sallow and his eyes sunken, he would be quite handsome when well. She found the cleft in his chin attractive, and the blue eyes she had seen so briefly in the forest had been alluring. Again, she wondered if the young woman in the holo-picture was his girlfriend or wife. Did she miss him terribly? Did she believe him dead? How would he react to being called by another name? Ryder: The name belonged to a cousin of hers, but he had died as a child, before she was even born. What was the Rebel's real name? Where had he come from? Would he want to return to his friends when he was better? There were so many questions about him she wasn't allowed to ask, and he wouldn't be allowed to answer. Her father was strict about that.

Tamara turned back to her book. Her stomach growled angrily. She glanced back to the bed wondering if it would be all right leave him for a moment? Her empty stomach gave her an affirmative answer. After all, he wasn't about to go anywhere. She placed her book on top of the bedside table and tiptoed from the room; not because she was afraid of waking Ryder, but because she was afraid of waking her father. She knew he would be furious at her for leaving the Rebel alone.

She crept down the hall into the kitchen and spent a few minutes rummaging around in the closets. She fixed herself a fruit juice drink and found a couple of biscuits, before hurrying back to the room, to find her little brother standing by the bed.

"Brett!" she hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to the 'fresher." Brett put on his "I am innocent" look.

"This isn't the 'fresher; you were told to stay out of here. Ryder's not to be disturbed. Get back to bed."

"But I wanna listen!" her brother protested.

"Listen? What are—" Tamara broke off as the boy on the bed mumbled something about "getting one." She grabbed Brett by the arm and pushed him from the room. "Get to bed — now! If Dad finds out you were here, you won't get out to play for a week!"

Brett considered the threat for a moment, and scuttled back to his room. Tamara closed the door quietly after him. Little nuisance! She turned back to Ryder as his mumbling continued. She set her drink and biscuits next to her book, then picked up the cloth once more and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Ben," he moaned.

"Shoosh," she whispered, wondering who Ben was.

"Jedi. ..father. .."

"Quiet."

He tried to move, and groaned when he found he couldn't; his body shuddered. Instinctively, Tamara rested her hand upon his, just as she had for Brett when he had been ill. His fingers closed tightly around hers. She looked down at their hands, startled.

"Leia?"

"What!" He was awake!

A frown crossed his face, and his hand released its grip. "Where's Leia?" he asked.

"I'm sorry—I don't—"

He tried to sit up, struggling hard against the bandages which tied him down. He groaned at the pain his movements caused.

Tamara put her hand on his chest. "Please—don't move."

His eyes looked up at her, full of confusion. "Why?"

"You were shot," she told him, wincing at the bluntness of her words.

"Shot?" His voice trembled on the edge of panic. "I want Leia…please."

Tamara didn't know how to reply and so she settled on what she considered a kind lie. "I'll get her later, but you must rest."

"Where is she?"

"Busy." She reached for the glass and helped him lift his head. "Here, drink some of this."

His head sunk back onto the pillow, once he had taken his fill. "You'll… you'll get her?"

"Yes," She took his hand once more, feeling dreadful for lying to him. She wiped his hair from his face as he closed his eyes.

"Tired," he mumbled.

"You'll feel better soon," she whispered and smiled when his fingers lightly squeezed her hand. She remained that way for the rest of the night, all thoughts of the hero and heroine on Aarene III gone.

ooOOoo

Brett lay in his own bed thinking about the strange things his cousin had said. As he drifted off to sleep, he decided to ask someone what a Jedi Knight was.