Chapter 5

Luke panicked as he struggled for breath, flames leaping in at him from the wreck of his x-wing. His head pounded and the pain in his chest was immense. He could not believe how stupid he had been. Never mind that now he thought, I can't fucking breathe. The right side of his chest felt like he was being stabbed and the crunching he could feel clearly pointed to a few broken ribs. He couldn't take anything but the shallowest of breaths. It hurt so much. Breathing uncontrollably fast he pushed at the smashed roof of the cockpit with his left arm, pain shot through his chest and his heart raced, it would not budge. He still had the presence of mind to draw on the force, focusing his pain and anger he shoved again with his left arm and the canopy, or what was left of it, flew open and he scrambled out, tearing his flight suit and the underlying skin on the way. Blood trickled into his eyes from a head wound as he crawled a short distance away from his crashed x-wing. Feeling incredibly dizzy and knowing he was moments away from passing out completely, he vomited as he continued to struggle to draw breath. He had crashed not far away from the Rebel base so he was certain someone would have seen it. Luke knew, excepting a miracle, he was going to die, either quite soon from his injuries or at the hands of the Rebels. He focused his mind and spoke to his father across their connection 'I'm sorry, I failed you' he sent, before collapsing onto the wet forest ground.

An hour ago, Han Solo was packing his reward money onto the Falcon and heading off with his first mate Chewie. Now, having helped the Rebellion, and Wedge of course, destroy the Death Star, he was assisting look for survivors on the ground. There were a few fleeing tie fighters with x wings hot on their tails low to the ground, he had to be careful. Smoke and laser fire filled the trees and the skies above him as one by one the rebel pilots took down the last few tie fighters that could not get away in time. Tie pilots where well trained, but most of them did not fight from the heart thought Han. Besides, the x-wings where much better at this low to the ground dog fighting then tie fighters.

He heard the roar before he saw it, an x wing in flames flew right above him and crashed hard into the ground ahead of him. He had not seen the pilot eject.

'Chewie!' He shouted, 'hurry over here with that med pack' as he ran towards the small clearing where the fighter had crashed. Chewie grabbed their kit, he doubted anyone could survive that crash, but they had to go and check.

As Han entered the clearing he spotted the fighter, nose half buried in the ground with flames engulfing most of the craft. He noticed movement a short distance from the crash site and headed towards the figure crawling on the ground, reaching the pilot just as he collapsed.

'Medic!' Han shouted into his com link 'This is Captain Solo, I need you down here, there's an x wing down and the pilots alive but looks to be in bad way' He gave the co-ordinates for his location and knelt to flip the pilot onto his back.

Han stared, his blood ran cold, only now just realising the pilot wore a black flight suit, not the standard orange of the rebellion pilots. Glancing over to the downed fighter it dawned on him it also was not the white and red of the Alliance, but black. Turning his attention back to the pilot on the ground, the face belonged to who he feared, despite it being covered in blood and mud from being face down on the forest floor.

Luke Skywalker, the imperial Prince, responsible for the deaths of untold numbers and the destruction of many worlds. Han could not believe how young he was, he'd only seen the odd holo of the Prince, holos that always made him look intimidating, the pilot on the floor in front of him was just a kid. A kid that would die if he didn't do something.

'Siths seven hells!' The medic exclaimed as he appeared next to Han, 'that's...'

'Yeah' said Han, as they both stared at each other, frozen in collective disbelief.

Their thoughts where abruptly interrupted by a gasp from the Prince. They looked down as his eyes flew open as he struggled to breathe. His breath came fast and shallow, his skin was pale and his lips where blue.

'Do something!' Shouted Han 'he may be a murderer, but I'll be damned if we let him just die, we aren't the Empire'

'Right' replied the medic 'open his suit, I need to get to his chest.'

Han tore at the ripped flight suit and the shirt underneath, the silk giving away easily given the damage, revealing the kid's badly bruised and lacerated chest. Han huffed, he knew that material, his on and off again friend Lando had many of his clothes made from it. The price of the shirt would fund the Rebellion for a week, sickening when so many in the galaxy where in poverty due to the Empire. The bruising was extensive and blood flowed from many lacerations. Han moved to the kid's head whilst the medic put the scanner on his chest. Luke's eyes where wide open, Han briefly stared into the red eyes. The kid was terrified, he was thrashing about with panic and delirium as the medic examined his chest, Han and Chewie had to grab his hands and legs to do their best to pin him down.

'Stay still!' Han shouted, 'we're just trying to help!'

The scanner pinged, 'right tension pneumothorax, immediate treatment required.'

'Shit' swore the medic, Han looked at him questioningly.

'His right lung has collapsed, it's putting pressure on his heart and other lung, I need to decompress it now or he'll die, keep him steady.'

"I'm trying,' struggled Han, 'Can't you knock him out with something?'

"Once I've sorted his lung out yes, his breathing is bad enough without risking suppressing it,' replied the medic.

Han watched as the medic inserted a hollow cannula into a space between the ribs on the right side of the kids chest, he turned the valve, and a loud hissing sound accompanied the release of air. Luke gasped and took a deep breath as his breathing settled somewhat. The medic immediately put an oxygen mask on his face and began to unpack the stretcher. He also administered a mild sedative; he did not want any more of that thrashing about now his patients breathing was improved. Together the Medic and Han lifted the Prince onto the stretcher, he groaned and his head rolled to the side as they put a blanket over him and strapped him down. The medic handed Han a small rolled up blanket.

"Put that around his head, we need to keep it straight,' he said.

"Sure," replied Han.

Securing the kids head and neck they lifted the stretcher and headed off towards the base, sending Chewie ahead to tell Leia they were coming, and exactly who it was they were bringing with them.