All previous disclaimers apply…
Missing
VIII.
It took effort to drag open his heavy eyes lids and he glimpsed a cream ceiling briefly before his eyes closed once more and darkness enfolded him.
ooOOoo
There was a dull heavy beat of music and a voice close by. He forced his eyes open again and blinked through thickening fog before succumbing to his fatigue.
OoOOoo
Strange bellowing and calling from alien creatures joined in chorus with the throb of music that penetrated the darkness once more. He lay with his eyes closed, realising that he didn't feel as tired or as leaden as his first attempts at wakening up. He was warm and comfortable and… awake. Slowly, he opened his eyes and gradually allowed them to focus on his surroundings.
He was lying on a bed in a small, dimly lit room, the only visible furnishings being the bed, two chairs and a bureau that was piled with white sheets. Turning his head on the pillow he noticed a field med-kit IV set up by the bed and a tube leading from it down to his left arm; and there was a glass of water resting on the bedside table. He ran his parched tongue over his dry lips and reached for the glass. His arm didn't budge. He tugged his wrist hard, trying to free it; but it accomplished nothing apart from making him aware of a sharp, searing pain in his left side and he stifled a cry.
He lay still as memories of recent events surfaced from his befuddled mind. The mission; the retreat through the forest; the captain's death; the flood-light-lit clearing; the ramp of the shuttle lifting; then an excruciating pain, followed by darkness. Where was he now and why was he restrained? How long had he lain here? He pushed back his alarm, telling himself not to panic. This wasn't an Imperial cell - but neither was it the Rebel medical centre on Ahana.
He tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position, but being tied down did not give him much room to manoeuvre. He counted the bonds: one across his chest; one on each wrist; one on his left ankle; one on…
He couldn't feel his right leg nothing from the thigh on down! He couldn't feel any bond, couldn't feel the blanket, couldn't feel…
The panic he had fought earlier surged forward as he struggled against the restraints, trying to sit up, straining his mind to receive some sort of message from the limb. Nothing. His head fell back on the pillow in despair. He remembered the cry of pain he had given during his sprint to the transport; remembered the fire from his leg before he blacked out. Was that the last sensation he would ever feel? Had he lost his leg? How could he continue with the Alliance? They didn't have crippled pilots. Would they turn him away now?
"Tamara, turn that music down!"
Luke froze at the sound of a woman's voice just outside the door. It seemed familiar somehow. He calmed his breathing and partially closed his eyes as the door to the room slowly swung open. He wanted to see his visitor before he allowed her to see that he was awake.
The woman who entered was carrying a large bundle of sheets and blankets, which she placed on one of the chairs. She was middle-aged, petite. Her slightly rounded face was fair and her mop of red curls was lightly sprinkled with silver. Luke watched her through his lashes as she crossed to the window; and daylight suddenly filled the room. The woman turned back to the bed and she checked the IV at his side before gently pulling the blanket up around his neck and smoothing out the creases.
Mhari smiled at his half-lidded gaze; she had known he was awake from the moment she'd entered the room."How are you feeling?" she asked softly
The woman's accent was alien to Luke, thick and guttural, and he had difficulty understanding her at first; but at least she spoke Basic. She placed her hand on his forehead and cheeks, just like Aunt Beru used to when he was ill. "Still a bit warm. You gave us quite a fright, you know."
"My leg…" His voice was a hoarse whisper and the sound of it frightened him.
"It's all right, "she told him quietly, reading his fear. "You've been hurt, but you'll be fine now." She turned from him for a moment and called toward the open door. "Tamara!" There was no answer; the thudding music still blared. Mhari sighed, took in a deeper breath. "Tamara!"
Luke winced as her shout sent shock waves through his pounding brain. The music abruptly ceased, a door slammed shut, there were a few muffled footsteps and a girl appeared in the doorway. She was a younger version of her mother, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Her curls were caught and pulled back into a tail, her eyes were dark and she looked slightly exasperated.
"What is it? Is his bed needing changed again…? Oh…" She smiled shy at Luke's staring eyes.
Luke felt a hot flush flood his face at the implications of the girl's words and he quickly glanced away from her.
"Tamara, go and fetch your father," her mother instructed. The girl disappeared to obey, and the woman turned back to Luke. "My husband will explain everything to you." She picked up the glass and helped Luke raise his head. He gulped down the cool liquid and choked.
"Take it easy - just sip."
"Thank you." His voice was stronger, lubricated by the water.
"So, he's finally awake."
Luke turned toward the man who spoke. He was large, his body obviously adapted to heavy work; he sported a full black beard, which obscured much of his face. He looked awesome but he smiled widely, putting Luke at ease.
"A little while ago," his wife replied to his statement.
"You've caused us no end of trouble and worry, young man," he grinned. "How do you feel?"
"Tired."
The man laughed. "You hear that, Mhari? He sleeps for almost three-days, and he's still 'tired'."
"Three days!" Luke was horrified. Was it three days since the mission? Leia and Han would be worried.
"You've slept for three days, but you've actually been with us for five. You were pretty much out of it for most of the time."
"Five!" Luke exclaimed, horrified. He pulled against the restraints once more. "I've got to get back…" He looked to the farmer for an explanation. "Why am I…?" He tugged hard, crying out at the pain he caused himself.
Alex sat by the bed and placed his hand firmly on the boy's shoulders, calming his panic. "Just lay still, rest, and let me explain. I know you're scared and confused; that's to be expected." He paused as he felt the boy's muscles relax. "That's better." He released his grip. "I'm Alex Lasjow; this is Mhari my wife. The girl you saw is my daughte,r Tamara; we also have a son, Brett, whom you'll meet later." The Rebel opened his mouth to introduce himself; but Alex cut him off. "No—don't tell us who you are. Let me finish." Alex sat down as Mhari busied herself putting away the blankets she had carried into the room.
"My daughter found you, in the woods. You realize you've been shot?"
Luke nodded slowly, fearing the worst.
"The local medic has been in and out to see you. "He'll be back later this evening, so I'll let him explain your injuries."
"My leg," Luke said, with suppressed panic. "I can't feel my leg!"
"Your ankle has a bad break and, since you seemed hell bent on wriggling about. Janis anaesthetized it — temporarily, of course. That's also why you're restrained. We didn't want you harming yourself." He hesitated, glancing at Mhari, before rushing on. He didn't want to confuse the boy with too much information, but he felt that he had to settle things from the beginning. "This may sound harsh," he began hesitantly, "and in a way it is; but I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say."
"Alex, I don't think…" Mhari tried to interrupt.
"From the start, Mhari," Alex reminded her. "We agreed." Mhari nodded and Alex turned back to the youth. "I need you to listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you."
"Yes, sir," Luke was curious to hear what was so important; but he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it much.
Alex took a breath. "We don't want to know who you are. Or where you've come from," he frowned, "we already know too much. From now on, to us and anyone else you're our nephew, Ryder Lasjow." He said the name slowly, emphasizing it. " You need to forget your own name. You are not a Rebel. You grew up in the farm lands and you don't know a thing about the civil war. Remember that, and you may go undiscovered here. Understand?"
"Yes," Luke answered, a little confused. "But I won't be here that long; I have to get back. My friends…"
"Your friends will have to manage without you," Alex told him. "There is no way off this planet, apart from the Imperial lines, and you can't chance that. Get used to that idea from the start. You are now Ryder Lasjow, I can't stress that enough." The boy's distress showed clearly in his features and Alex couldn't help but feel sorry for him; he was being told to forget everything he once had, and everyone he loved. He pushed on, almost hating himself for what he had to do. "Also you must never mention your Alliance in this house or outside of it. It may reach the wrong ears. You have to remember that I have a family and a livelihood to protect."
"I understand, sir." Luke's voice was quiet, resigned.
Alex patted Ryder's shoulder, smiling kindly. "Don't look so damned depressed; you just may like it here." He turned to Mhari. "Help me take these restraints off him; let him get a little more comfortable."
Carefully, they removed his bonds and lifted him higher onto the pillows. Down the hall, small footsteps ran. Alex opened the door and called to his son. A small red-blond head appeared around the doorpost and grinned cheekily. Luke smiled back as the child entered the room.
"Oh, Brett, " Mhari groaned when she saw her son's clothes; they were covered in dirt and grass stains. "How do you manage it?"
Alex laughed. "Ryder, this is Brett."
"Hi, Brett." Luke smiled as he remembered the time when he appeared in front of his aunt covered in Biggs's father's hopper oil; her reaction was similar to Mhari's.
Brett stared at his elder cousin; a small frown crossed his forehead and he risked a glance at his father before pushing on with his important question. "What's a Jedi Knight?"
Luke looked to Alex, unsure; should he answer?
Alex's face darkened; he gripped Brett by the arms and crouched down beside him. "Don't ever ask that again!" He said, angrily. "It's a bad thing, don't say it again." Brett squealed and pulled free; he ran to his mother, seeking solace. "Do you understand me, Brett?"
Luke turned away, a little embarrassed.
"Yes!" Brett screamed, not really understanding why he was being punished. If Ryder could say it, then why couldn't he? It wasn't fair.
"Go and find Tamara, Brett." Mhari spoke softly to her squealing offspring and the boy ran from the room. His footsteps thumping down the hallway.
"I'm sorry." Luke realized Brett could only have heard of the Jedi from him.
"It's not your fault," Alex told him, but his tone implied otherwise. "If you'll excuse me, I have a farm to attend to."
"I'm sorry," Luke apologized to Mhari, once Alex was gone.
"No harm done," Mhari assured him, but Luke winced at her sharp tone of voice; he'd been awake for barely an hour, and already he'd upset everyone. "Tamara will be in to sit with you." She spoke more kindly. "Try and sleep more. I'm afraid Alex may have worn you out. I'll bring you some soup a little later." She quickly left the room, leaving Ryder alone once more.
A heavy depression settled over Luke as the door closed. He sighed wearily and closed his eyes. He'd been here for five days - five days! Han and Leia must think he was dead; and he might as well be. After a few short months of the kind of life he'd always dreamed of, he was now, once again, stuck on a back world: a farm boy who could only yearn for greater things. Luke's thoughts hung on sarcasm; at least he'd fit into the role, he knew all about it.
Ryder Lasjow. His mind went to his new name: Ryder Lasjow. Luke screwed up his nose. He hated it, but he supposed he'd get used to it. He would also have to get used to being here and living with these people. Who were they? Why had they taken him in? Why had they taken the risk? There was a large Imperial presence on this planet; he searched his mind for its name . . . Irlam that was it. He and the squad had run into a few of the Imperials' number. Why all the hardware here? He shook his head, trying to dispel his thoughts, remembering Alex's words. He was thinking like a Rebel lieutenant, not a simple farm boy. He must forget his past; it would be difficult, but he would have to try. Forget about the brutal murders of his aunt and uncle, forget the teachings of Ben, forget the Death Star, the supply runs with Han and Chewie, the training flights, Leia--
Leia! How could he forget his princess? She was the one who had really started everything for him.
No, it was no good. He would never be able to forget his life with the Alliance; he would have to get back, somehow. He couldn't give up all he had fought for; he couldn't sit around on his backside on another dead-end farm, while his friends continued their fight. He'd bide his time, obey Alex for now, regain his strength; then he would plan his way off-planet. He could watch the Empire's movements here; try to find out the things the Alliance had failed to uncover. Perhaps he could steal a ship—risky, but staying here was not something he was thrilled about.
He smiled as he imagined his reunion with Leia. She'd be…
"Are you sleeping?" Tamara's inquiry jerked Luke from his daydream; he opened his eyes to see her standing by the open door.
"No," he answered, as she approached the bed and lowered herself onto the chair beside him.
"You're looking better," she commented, studying his still-pale features.
"I wish I felt as good as I look." His brain hammered against his skull, sending waves of dull pain down the back of his neck and his side burned. His whole body felt weighted and lethargic.
Tamara smiled the same shy smile he's seen earlier. "Mom said I should sit with you, keep you company while you sleep." She picked up a book from the table. "So please, don't mind me." She found her place in the story and settled down to read.
Luke watched her for a while, his gaze hidden from her by the blanket. He sighed, turning his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes, seeking the peaceful darkness of slumber. But, tired as he was, sleep eluded him. He lay listening to the farm work, machinery whining from the fields, animals bellowing in their enclosures, something dropping in the kitchen. Tamara giggled. Luke opened his eyes, glancing toward his companion; obviously, she had reached a humorous part of the story.
"What's it about?" he asked; partly out of a genuine interest, but mostly out of his desire to have something to talk about.
Tamara barely spared him a glance. "It's the latest book in the Nor Vanhal series," she told him slowly, still concentrating on the story. "In this, Nor finally finds Kanera and saves her from the evil Cranlor. There's a big battle at the end."
Luke had never heard of the Nor Vanhal series. He craned his neck in an attempt to see the print. "How do you know there's a battle if you're only half way through?"
Her answer was short. "I've read it before."
Ask a silly question! Luke thought. "Is it any good?"
She frowned at the book, slightly annoyed by his questions. "It's okay, I guess." She looked at him as he strained to read the words over her arm. She offered him the book. "Do you want to read it?"
He realized he was intruding. "No—I'm sorry." He lay his head carefully back onto the pillow. "Maybe some other time."
"Okay."
End of conversation!
Luke turned from her, striving to either sleep or think of something to occupy himself with. He knew he shouldn't talk too much, that he should try and conserve what little energy he had; but he was bored. He hoped he would not be bed-ridden for long; he hated not being able to do anything for himself. Although if Han were here, he'd tell him to lie back and enjoy it. He tried to imagine what his life here would be like. He was supposed to be the nephew of these people. Nephew: that sounded too familiar. In fact, it all sounded too familiar, too much like his old life, too much like the life he couldn't wait to get away from; it brought back memories best not dwelt upon. The only difference was that he now had two cousins, which could be fun, especially little Brett. It'd be like having a younger brother. Luke liked that idea; he'd be the big brother figure, Brett would look up to him, Tamara would— Luke gazed back at the girl by the bed. If his friends' sisters back on Tatooine were anything to go by, he and Tamara would probably fight non-stop! He smiled to himself as he realized that one of his dreams of his childhood was coming true, his dream of having a family. Of course, he'd had his aunt and uncle, but he had really been alone. Contrary to popular belief, being an only child had not meant being spoiled, it meant loneliness. Now he had a new aunt, a new uncle, and two cousins. His time here might not be that bad.
Luke was drawn from his thoughts by Brett shouting to his mother that he wouldn't be long, that he was just going to the 'fresher and could she watch the console game for him? The Zweifel were about to attack, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. Luke grinned. Brett sounded just like he did when he was younger: a constant pest!
Slowly, Luke's grin faded as he became aware of a soft pressure in his own bladder. He turned his head on the pillow, wishing he could turn his whole body, cross his legs—anything! He knew it was Brett's shout that had started his own body calling for relief. Well, as long as it was only calling, and not screaming, he could ignore it.
The pressure increased and Luke cursed to himself. What was he going to do? He couldn't go himself; he couldn't just lie here; he couldn't tell Tamara, as he was too embarrassed. Stop it! He told himself. Thinking about it only makes it worse! He wriggled under the blanket as the desire to pass water grew, and the dull ache in his abdomen began. He glanced desperately at Tamara, to see if she had noticed his distress. She had not. Well, there was only one thing for it. He cleared his throat. "Ah…could you tell me where the 'fresher is?"
"Just across the hall," Tamara answered, not remembering that Ryder was an invalid. The book fully commanded her attention.
A quiet crimson coloured his cheeks. "Could you help me, please?" His voice wilted with embarrassment.
His question jolted Tamara from her book; she stared at him with wide eyes. "What!"
His look was pleading. He pointed to his injured leg, jiggled the arm that was tethered to the IV.
Tamara's mouth curled up at the corners; she began to laugh at his urgency.
"It's not funny!" protested Luke, biting his lower lip in effort.
"If you can hang on for a bit, I'll get Dad," Giggling, she placed her book down and ran for her father.
Luke had reached crisis point by the time Alex arrived. The farmer grinned at him, shaking his head for several long, excruciating moments. "We didn't have this trouble with you when you were unconscious," he told the desperate youth as he handed Luke a urinal bottle…
The look of horror and the deep blush which crawled over Luke's face, as the implications of what Alex had said sunk in, brought a deep bass chuckle from the farmer. Alex was enjoying himself. "Tamara and Mhari did a good job," he laughed as Luke stared in dismay at the bottle. "Of course," he continued, "Tamara was shy at first; but I told her, 'If you've seen one, you've seen them all.' Don't you agree?"
"No!" Luke squeaked.
ooOOoo
Tamara settled back into her chair and pretended to stick her nose in her book as Alex carefully spread up Luke's sheet and blankets.
"Next time, don't wait so long." The twinkle of fun was still present in Alex's eyes as he lifted the full bottle and covered it to ease Luke's embarrassment. "I don't think Tamara would appreciate it!" He winked at his daughter on his way out.
A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Luke stared out of the far window at the grey, clouded sky, unable to even glance at the girl by his bed. Surely Alex was just pulling his leg. Tamara wouldn't have helped Mhari, would she? Even just thinking about it made him cringe.
"You shouldn't pay too much attention to Dad," Tamara said, breaking the quiet, trying to ease Ryder's embarrassment. "He likes to tease." Relief flooded Luke's body for the second time that hour. "You mean you didn't—?"
Tamara laughed. "Of course I did. Dad was needed on the farm. Who else could help Mom? Brett's a little young." She watched the redness creep over Ryder's cheeks once more. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about; I had plenty of practice when Brett was sick."
"There's a bit of a difference between me and Brett!" Luke declared indignantly.
Tamara's eyes gleamed mischievously. "I know."
Luke groaned. Things were going from bad to worse. He didn't like the way the conversation was heading; he couldn't think of anything to say to her. He pointed at the book in an attempt to change the subject. "What's happening?" he asked as lightly and as innocently as he could.
Tamara smiled into her book, seeing through his ploy. "The battle's about to begin."
Luke perked up; battles he could handle. "In space?"
"No."
"Where, then?"
"On Arene III."
Luke frowned slightly. "I've never heard of it."
"It's fictitious, I think," Tamara started at the name on the page, frowning slightly as she tried to concentrate through Luke's questioning.
"Who's fighting who?"
"I told you already. The Forces of Nor Vanhal are fighting those of Cranlor," she explained a little irritably. "I'll let you read it once I'm finished, okay?"
"Okay," Luke stared up at the ceiling for a moment or two. "What was that music I woke up to earlier?"
"What music?"
"When I woke I could hear music."
Tamara cast her mind back. "Oh… that, just some local band."
"Do you think I could listen to it?
The girl threw her book down exasperated. "You sure ask a lot of questions!"
The dam burst. "You'd ask questions, too, if you woke up among strangers and were told to forget everything that went on before—to forget your past, your friends, your home. I just want to get to know you, that's all." Luke looked to the ceiling as tears of frustration appeared in his eyes. "It's difficult to come to terms with all that's happening."
"I'm sorry," Tamara apologized, realizing she'd added to his frustration by almost ignoring him. She smiled sympathetically. "Dad lay it on thick, did he?"
Luke nodded. "You could say that."
"Okay, I'll answer your questions. What do you want to know?"
Wincing, he struggled to sit up; pleased he'd gotten her full attention. "Well, you can start by telling me about this planet; I only know what the Command—" He stopped himself and gave a weak grin. "I only know a little about it."
Tamara gazed out the window. "There's not much to tell. It's a small planet, mainly agricultural. It's pretty much under the control of the authorities. There are no commercial lines; what we get, we get from the Empire. Also, it's kind of boring; there's not much to do, apart from work."
"Sounds a bit like home," Luke mumbled to himself; but Tamara caught his words.
"You'd better not let Dad you say something like that," she advised. "He'll blow his top."
"It's hard to forget," he told her. "Especially since it's all so similar to my own life."
Her curiosity got the better of her. "It is? How?"
"I grew up on a farm. Not one like this, though; we farmed water."
"Water!" she laughed. "Who farms water?"
Luke smiled. "I come from a desert planet, where water is scarce. We had to take it from the atmosphere."
"That's another thing; don't let Dad know you were a farmer, or he'll have you out working."
"I don't think I'd mind too much; I never was a very good patient. Aunt Beru used to say that it was because I didn't have any patience." His voice turned sad as he mentioned his aunt. The conversation had been turned around on him; now Tamara was learning about him, not the other way around. He forced a smile. "Tell me more. What about the planet's population?"
"Civilian, or Imperial?" Tamara wasn't sure why she added Imperial; perhaps it was because Ryder was a Rebel.
"Civ —" Luke hesitated; this would be a good place to start learning about the Empire's presence here. "Both."
"Well, I'm not sure of the whole population," she told him, "but in Darel, the local township, there's a couple of thousand. As for the Imperials, there's a small outpost a couple of kilometres from here, but their headquarters is about fifty kilometres away. I've seen it; it's pretty big."
Great, Luke thought, I'm surrounded by them! "Why is there such a large number?"
Tamara shook her head. "I dunno."
That was a big help. So far he'd only found out what he already knew. "What do you farm here?" She could tell him that easily enough.
"Cereals, mostly; and we have a few animals." A bellow from the enclosure outside provided the proof. "Nerfs, mainly."
Luke's eyebrows raised a notched. "Nerfs? Really? I've never seen a nerf. Heard about them, though." And he chuckled.
"What's so funny?" she asked, beginning to laugh as well.
"Nerfs!" Luke said, laughing a little more, wincing as his movement jerked his injured body. He explained as he flinched at the flaring pain. "Where I come from, if you call someone a 'nerf herder,' it's an insult!"
In spite of herself, Tamara joined in with Ryder; she found his humour infectious. A thought occurred to her, and she stared at him. "I suppose you could say I was a nerf herder."
Luke roared with laughter; tears formed at the corners of his eyes; and he yelled in pain. Tamara chuckled furiously, taking enjoyment from his comical attempts to ease his laughter.
Mhari stood outside the bedroom, smiling as she listened to the laughter coming from Tamara and Ryder. They seemed to be getting along all right. She opened the door to find Ryder desperately holding his side, trying to stop laughing, and Tamara wiping tears from her eyes.
"What's all the hilarity about?" Her inquiry abruptly ended the two's giggles; they exchanged knowing glances. Mhari sighed. Why was it that the appearance of an adult always resulted in silence? She bent over the boy, checking his side dressing; luckily, he hadn't broken the seal. "You are supposed to be sleeping, Ryder," she scolded, in good humour.
"Sorry," he mumbled, visibly flinching at his new name.
"Your IV will need changed soon. I'll add in some of the painkiller Janis left. I think you might need it. " Mhari smiled. "Do you feel like some soup now?"
Although he hadn't eaten since the day of the mission, Luke's stomach rebelled at the thought of food. But he knew he had to eat something. He glanced at Tamara before answering her mother. "I could eat a nerf."
Mhari was left guessing as Tamara collapsed. Ryder grinned, pleased with himself.
ooOOoo
"A simple procedure!" Luke echoed Denrick Janis's last statement derisively. The medic had arrived late that evening, just as Alex had promised. After cursory introductions, the doctor had proceeded to explain Luke's wounds and the treatment they needed. Luke didn't appreciate the graphic details Janis supplied; besides, it sounded painful.
Denrick laughed. "Don't look so worried. I assure you, you won't feel a thing."
"Last time someone said that to me I didn't sit down for a week, "Luke grumbled, " Funny thing is—he was a doctor, too!"
"You'll have a strong local anaesthetic and the bacta dressings are quite effective, you know," Denrick rummaged in his kit. "How's the leg? Can you feel anything from it?"
"Just a bit. Why don't you just dip me in bacta instead of the dressings?" he wanted to know. "It'd be a whole lot quicker. Not to mention less painful."
"A Bacta Tank?" Janis glanced up at him. "A question like that shows that you're from off-planet. I'm afraid the Empire is rather selfish with its medical supplies." He removed a syringe from his kit. "I'll give the block a boost, to keep you from moving that ankle. You'll have to watch what you say."
"I'vebeentold that already."Luke winced as the needle penetrated his skin. "Are you sure the calcium cement will heal the bone quickly?"
"Who's the doctor—me or you?" Denrick cleared his instruments away. "It won't heal it as fast as bacta would, but you should be able to hobble around with help in a couple of days. You'll limp for a while; but, like the burn on your side, it'll gradually disappear. Happier?"
Luke shook his head. "No."
Denrick laughed once more, "Well, it's the best I can do." He lifted his kit. "I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well. "
Luke watched him leave. Sleep well? Who did he think he was kidding? He's probably have nightmares. He listened as Alex and Mhari said their goodbyes to the medic. The house's main door closed and a speeder drove off. Luke reached up and flicked his light off as someone rapped softly on the door before opening it.
"You still awake?" Tamara whispered quietly.
"Yes," He smiled when he saw her silhouette in the doorway; her hair was down, curling softly over her shoulders.
"I just wanted to say goodnight."
"Oh, goodnight," Luke acknowledged.
She softly closed the door. Luke lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "Tomorrow," he said reluctantly, "here I come!"