Hi everyone - thank you for your feedback! So sorry for the chapter mixup. Hopefully everything is fixed I and I didn't leave you hanging too long. As always, I don't own anything and comments are welcome! -T.
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"Vader is here."
Han's blood turned to ice. He dropped his feet to the floor, straightened. How could the kid possibly think he knew that Vader was here? "That's not funny, Luke," he began, but was interrupted by the kid.
"You have a set of macrobinocs?"
"Sure, in the Falcon." Han was on his feet now, pacing to the window, trying to get a clear look at the sky, as if by magic he might catch a glimpse of Vader's personal shuttle descending at that very moment.
"Call Chewie, Han," Luke said, easing his legs gingerly over the side of the bed. He snagged his boots, disconnecting, but not pulling the IV. At Han's scandalized look, he said, "Just find me something to wrap this or I am pulling it."
With an angry sigh, Solo went to dig through a small tray for some gauze, while Luke pulled on his trousers and fastened the clasps of his tunic shirt.
"Chewie?" Han muttered into the comlink. "We need a pickup….now. Kid says Vader's here." It wasn't that he didn't believe Luke, but….he would believe it when he saw it. Dr. Padduk hadn't mentioned anything about patients being delusional with this fever, but Solo wondered if it was simply a symptom he'd neglected to mention.
A surprised roar from the Wookiee. Solo spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "I don't know," he snapped, eyeing Luke as the kid sagged back to the gurney, his strength apparently spent from the simple act of dressing. "Luke says check with the macrobinocs."
Another roar. Han sighed. "Sure, we'll wait." He lowered the comlink, handed the length of gauze to Luke to wrap around the IV line.
Dr. Padduk chose that moment to come in and check on his patient, and started when he saw Luke, dressed in his street clothes and wrapping his now-free arm. "What is going on here?" he demanded in a tone of someone used to having his orders obeyed. "Was I not clear enough about the dangers of the Fever? You are not out of danger yet. Where do you think you're going?"
Han opened his mouth to say something when Chewie's tinny voice chimed in from the comlink.
There was a ship in the Cattairn system, all right. And it looked like a Star Destroyer.
"Chewie, bring the ship around," Han ordered sharply, ignoring the medic's protests as Luke pulled on his boots. "There is a large clearing behind the medcenter."
He shut off the comlink and came face-to-face with Padduk. "I hope you know what you're doing," the medic said softly. He glanced from Han to Luke. "Dack isn't your real name, is it?"
Luke grimaced. "Dr. Padduk, thank you for helping me. I…" he trailed off. "The less you know at this point, the better."
The other man laughed humorlessly. "The less I know?" He repeated. "The less I know that your name is really Luke Skywalker, being personally hunted by Darth Vader, with an astronomical price on your head?"
Han froze, his hand instinctively going for his holstered blaster. Padduk had known, all this time. Was he the one who had tipped Vader off to Luke's location? But no, that still wouldn't explain Luke's insistence days ago that Vader had been on his way, or how the kid knew Vader had arrived when he had.
Luke, still slumped on the bed, only cringed. "Is it that obvious?" he asked plaintively. The kid looked trapped, resigned. If the doctor wanted to turn him over to Vader at this point, there would be little he could do about it in his present state.
They each remained there, frozen in place. Han considered their possible escape route if they had to fight their way out. Luke, in his current condition, would be a liability. Though Solo had seen the kid in action, even when he hadn't been one-hundred percent, he couldn't imagine he'd be much help at the moment. The window was big enough they could break it and make a run for the clearing. Chewie was probably five or ten minutes away from landing the ship within two-hundred feet of the medcenter. The only other question would be if Luke was capable of walking - or running - that far.
Finally, Luke asked quietly, his eyes wide with fear and agitation. "Will you turn us in?"
"Turn you in?" Padduk repeated. "To Darth Vader?" He shook his head, a dark frown coloring his features. "I make a point to never capitalize on the misfortunes of others." He paused. "Even for that much money."
Han arched his eyebrows. The doctor was turning out to be a nobler person that he'd given him credit for.
"Still," Padduk went on, "in the interest of my own self-preservation…."
Han raised his blaster, thumbed its setting to stun. "Best to have an alibi?" He finished for him.
Padduk shrugged, a sardonic smile coming to his face. "It occurred to me. It's probably best if it doesn't look like I simply let you go." His eyes darted to a cupboard in the corner of the room. "Before you pull the trigger, you should know that there are saline bags and doses of anti-viral in that locker. Take them. Keep the fluids going for the next few days."
Luke nodded in understanding, pushing back up to a sitting position, his expression awash in relief. "Thank you."
Padduk leveled his gaze at Han, nodded once. Solo braced himself and fired.
A blue stun bolt felled the doctor where he stood, dropping him silently to the floor. Solo knelt to check on him, and once satisfied that he appeared uninjured, turned to the cupboard Padduk had indicated. Sure enough, there were the items the doctor had said it would contain. He gathered an armload of saline pouches, two ampoules of the anti-viral, and extra tubing, stuffed them in his small knapsack.
His comlink trilled. Han thumbed it on. "Chewie - are ya here?"
A bark from the Wookiee. He was approaching landing.
Solo nodded shortly. "We're on our way out." He turned to face Luke, who was getting his feet under him again. "You ready, kid?"
Luke nodded. "Let's get out of here."
They encountered no resistance getting out of the building. Luke, dressed in his regular clothes, didn't scream escaping patient with his appearance, so they walked as casually as possible, to avoid attracting attention and to make sure Luke could keep up.
Once out of the back exit of the building, a gust of wind picking up and ruffling his hair, Han could see the shadow of the landing Falcon across the long grasses, flattening in the wind. "There he is," he muttered to Luke. The kid nodded once and gingerly set forward.
As they waded through the meadowgrass, Han risked a glance at the sky. Bright sun and blue sky eclipsed any possible view he might have of the Star Destroyer Chewie spotted. Hopefully they could keep it that way for a few more minutes.
That hope was dashed a moment later, when, He and Luke, completely out in the open, doing an awkward hobble to the waiting Falcon, heard the familiar screech of oncoming TIE fighters.
"Han - down!" Luke cried suddenly, flattening into the tall yellow grass, pulling the Corellian hard down with him. At that moment strafing laser fire flew over their heads, followed by two black shadows - TIEs screeching past. Han gaped after them, even after he was gaining his feet again to run. Why are they firing? He thought wildly. They want the kid alive!
Caution was now out the window. The Falcon was a hundred feet away, its ramp lowering to the grass. Chewie's voice barked panic through the comlink. They were, no question, running. Even still, as he pulled Luke to his feet, and Han could see and hear the TIEs coming around for another shot, the pieces slid into place. The TIEs weren't gunning for them, but for the ship. The Falcon was their only means of escape. Without it, Vader would have them for sure. "Chewie," he snapped into the comlink, his breath ragged, his other hand firmly around Luke's upper arm, pulling him along. "Fire the turbocannons. Here they come - all power to the shields!"
Laser fire blazed overhead, but this time Han kept running, the rippling ribbon of the attacking ships' shadow momentarily eclipsing the sun as they flew past.
"Come on, kid," Solo grunted encouragement through his wheezing breathing. "We're almost there."
The ramp loomed, closer. "Almost there!" Han shouted again. Then, as the ships rounded on their third pass, he and Luke ducked under the safety of the ship's overhang. Laser cannon fire shook the Falcon.
"Go!" Solo screamed, giving Luke a final shove up the ramp, before letting go and tearing to the cockpit. He scrambled for his balance as the ship was already rising from the ground, lilting to the left. Another shudder as the ship took another hit. Hear me baby, hold together.
He made it to the cockpit, crashing into the pilot's seat. Ahead, they were gunning for deep space, a flurry of TIE fighters spewing toward them like insects. He could make out the shape of the Star Destroyer now. "Stay close to the surface, distract their instruments," he barked to Chewie. "How soon till we plot our course?"
The wookiee growled in response, that they would need to be in position for coordinates.
"Fine, fine," Han snapped. "Just keep us as far away from that Star Destroyer as possible, huh?"
A sound from behind him he knew was Luke, dropping into the seat back of Chewie. "You made it kid?" He called. "I think we're going to need a gunner."
He spared a sidelong glance at his friend. Luke's face was covered with a sheen of perspiration, his features gray, his chest still heaving from the sprint to the ship. "You don't look so good."
Chewie barked. He would get to the guns. He disconnected his crash-webbing and tore from the cockpit.
Han motioned for Luke to take the Wookiee's place. "Your job, kid, is to man the turret and plot us a hyperspace course as soon as we're clear, understood?"
"Got it," Luke nodded breathlessly, already punching the nav with a trembling hand, his forehead creased.
Another wave of TIEs came at them, closing in from the ones still on their tail. "Hang on," Han shouted, pulling the throttle, rocketing the ship straight up into a dizzying spin. He hoped Chewie had been holding on for that one.
"You think we can outrun them?" Luke asked tensely, eyes laser-focused on a target in his sights. He fired, exploding the nearest TIE into a ball of flame.
"Nice shot, kid," Solo crowed. Another shot from the lower gunner, which meant Chewie was in place. A second TIE exploded. Han grinned. "This old girl hasn't let us down yet!"
Luke's hands were flying over the navcomp controls, then his eyes were back up, pumping laser fire power into another TIE that got too close. It too exploded.
They were out of the atmosphere now, almost where they could make the jump, the Star Destroyer still a healthy distance out of range. Luke's fingers moved rapidly over the controls. "Almost there," he muttered.
He froze suddenly, his eyes widening like he'd seen a ghost.
"Luke?" Solo threw the ship into another spin as Chewie picked off two more TIEs. Was Vader talking to the kid or something, the way Luke had described to him back in the forest, when Han hadn't believed him?
The Falcon shuddered as it took a direct hit to the aft section. Han poured all power into the shields. It was a great time to be distracted by old Bucket Head. "Any second now, kid," he prodded out loud, urgency coloring his tone.
"Almost there," Luke repeated, shaking himself free, eyes back on the console. Then the signal flashed green. Luke's head snapped up. "Go!" he shouted.
Han took the hyperspace controls, pulled back. The stars streaked to white lines, the inertia pulling them all back in their seats.
The ship settled into hyperspace, mottled blue through the viewport. Han let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. They had made it. "That was a little too close."
Luke's eyebrows arched, and he laughed weakly. "Way too close." He leaned his head back into the headrest, catching a gasping breath.
Solo eyed him. "You okay?"
Luke nodded, shutting his eyes briefly. "Yeah. Just a little…." he hesitated, maybe loathe to admit it out of professional pride... "Spacesick."
Solo mock frowned, pointing his finger at the kid. "Remember what I said about nobody messing up my ship. If you're going to be queasy on me, barf bag is over there." He pointed to the pocket near the console.
Luke nodded tiredly, unoffended, reached out and snagged one. "It's your crazy flying, Han."
"Hey Junior," Solo retorted, still leveling a finger at the younger man. "My crazy flying kept us alive. I had no idea you could lose your lunch on a flight after being grounded for a few weeks. You're still as green as a whip willow, even after a year with the Alliance."
Now Luke did look offended. "That's not fair - "
He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he lurched up, paper bag near his face, barely escaping the cockpit before he started throwing up.
Han could hear him retching in the corridor. He sighed. He should go easy on the kid. He'd been ill after all. That little run across the meadow probably hadn't helped things either.
Solo gained his feet, peering momentarily over at the navicomp, realizing belatedly that he had no idea where they were headed.
The Aurebesh letters seemed to float up on the blue background of the screen. Dagobah.
Han glanced to the back of the cockpit where Luke had exited. "Dagobah, kid?" He asked in faint disbelief. "Something possessed you to be more adventurous than usual? Does this place even exist?"
"Like we had much choice," Luke's voice retorted weakly from the hall. Han walked into the corridor and found the kid sitting against the wall, legs splayed in front of him, a grimace on his features. "It was preprogrammed anyway, which got us out of there faster." He smiled faintly, tilting his head to one side. "You're welcome."
"Well if the computer says there's something there, there must be something," Han allowed, throwing another glance back in the direction of the navicomp. "I guess we'll find out what when we get there. It's only - what - four, five hours?"
"Yeah," Luke nodded, crumpling the paper bag shut with his fist with a look of chagrin in its direction, wiping the back of his sleeve across his mouth.
Solo offered him a hand up. "It's okay, kid. I was just teasing you." He smiled, trying to ease the kid's embarrassment. Maybe he should go easy on the ribbing, stop giving Luke such a hard time about his relative inexperience. The kid clearly had skills, if not the years and cynicism to back it up. "Space sickness can happen to the best of us."
Only as he pulled the younger man to his feet, did he see - smeared across Luke's sleeve and staining the edge of the crumpled paper bag in Luke's fist, startlingly bright red, like someone had flung a brush full of paint.
All the blood.