"Wedge, we found an unoccupied cave," Janson said, running up.

"All right." Wedge stood up. "Let's go." His mind already tried to formulate how he would give his post-mission briefing. "Commander Skywalker hit his head on a rock due to attack by a foreign beast and had his side sliced up by its claws. Darth Vader then expressed his wish to defect to the rebellion." No, how about "Darth Vader revealed he is Anakin Skywalker and expressed his wish to defect to the rebellion."

Wedge shook his head. "Come on." He grabbed the first aid kit.

Vader stood up, cradling Luke in his arms, and followed them.

The cave was fairly small, but it was big enough to fit them all and it was dry. Hobbie was already building a fire from dead branches of one of the pink bushes.

Vader gently laid Luke down next to the fire, smoothing his hair off his forehead.

Hobbie stared at the two, his forehead wrinkled.

Wedge knelt next to Luke, popping open the first aid kit. "Just settle down for the night."

"Yes, boss." Hobbie got back to work building the fire.

The rest of the Rogues settled around the fire and the cave entrance without words.

Vader was pressing his hands against Luke's bleeding wound. Wedge grabbed shears from the kit.

"Move your hands, I need to cut his clothes away." Some part of his mind screamed at him for ordering Vader around. Compartmentalize, compartmentalize!

Vader lifted his hands without speaking.

Wedge snipped at the yellow jacket. "Sorry, Luke," he whispered. "Keep him talking," he told Vader. "We need to evaluate his mental state." Luke wouldn't be happy about the destruction of the jacket, but there wasn't much Wedge could do about it.

"Luke," Vader said, continuing to stroke Luke's hair. "Do you know where you are?"

"Cave," Luke said. "I can't see." He reached up to Vader's helmet, blood-stained fingers painting the black helmet red. "Is that you?"

Vader grabbed his wrist. "It is."

Wedge cut off Luke's robes and exposed the wound. One claw had dug into his side. It didn't appear to have hit anything vital, but it was still bleeding fairly heavily. And of course there was the risk of possible infection or poison.

Wedge pulled out a bandage and pressed it against the wound. "Where did you grow up?"

"Ta…Tatooine." Luke's reply was hesitant, but he did remember which spoke fairly well to his mental state. At least he wasn't too badly injured. "Where I shot womp rats…"

"Yeah, I know," Wedge said. "From your T-16 back home." "They're not much bigger than two meters!" Crazy desert kid. Wedge trusted that Luke knew what he was talking about, but he still thought his friend and boss was crazy.

"Impressive aim," Vader said. "Most impressive."

"Thanks," Luke said.

Tycho and Dix walked into the cave.

"We called back to Home One," Tycho said. "A rescue ship should be here by tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," Wedge said.

"Think he'll hold on until then?" Tycho asked.

"I hope so," Wedge said. "If his side stops bleeding. I'm worried about his head, though."

"He will be fine," Vader said, as if he could will Luke into health just by speaking.

"Fine, fine…" Luke repeated. "Father?"

"Yes?" Vader said.

Several of the Rogues who must not have caught the reveal before gasped.

"Where are you?" Luke asked.

"Right here," Vader placed his hand on Luke's forehead. "I will not leave you."

"Good," Luke said.

"What's your name?" Wedge asked.

"Luke Skywalker," Luke said. "Luke. Luke…Skywalker. It's like being named pilot, but…cooler."

Wedge frowned. Luke was sounding off. Loopy. Loopy was bad.

"You are very good at flying," Vader said.

"Of course I am," Luke replied, none of the blushing humility he usually had.

Wedge lifted the bandage. The wound had stopped streaming blood and was simply weeping blood. He wet another bandage and cleaned the wound. "Can you sit him up?"

Vader obligingly lifted Luke up to a sitting position. Wedge sprayed antiseptic on the wound and wrapped it in bandages.

Luke grabbed Wedge's flight suit. "Wedge." He stared at him with serious blue eyes.

"Yes?"

"You're my friend," Luke said.

"Thank you." Wedge detached his hand from his suit. "You need to rest."

"Are we…still scouting?" Luke sagged against Vader's arms, grimacing. "Accident with the beast aside, this still might be a good spot for a base."

"I can keep some of the Rogues back once the rescue ship comes," Wedge said. "A couple of us can stay behind."

"You cannot possibly think of building a base here," Vader said. "Luke almost died!"

"It's better than Hoth," Luke, Wedge, Hobbie, and Janson said together.

Vader shook his head. "It is a wonder any of you are still alive."

"Tycho, do you have any precise data on when the ship will be here?" Wedge asked.

"Nope," Tycho said. "Just sometime tomorrow afternoon. I didn't know what to tell Home One about Vader, so I just…didn't."

Wedge sighed, kneading his forehead. That would be a fun conversation he'd have to have with High Command. "All right. Set up some shifts for night watch."

Tycho nodded and turned to the rest of the Rogues.

"I feel sick, I wanna lie down," Luke said.

Wedge pulled off the vest from his flight suit and folded it under Luke's head. Vader lowered Luke down, then pulled off his cloak and tucked it around him.

Wedge smothered a sudden burst of laughter. Vader without his cloak looked far too skinny and somehow naked.

Janson, who must have a death wish, didn't bother smothering his laughter. "You look ridiculous."

Vader's helmet turned towards Janson. Through the maroon eyepieces, Wedge could actually see blue eyes glaring.

Blue, like Luke's.

Wedge's heart stuttered. Intellectually, he had always known that Vader was a person under that suit, but there was something different about actually seeing that person.

"Luke needs warmth," Vader said. "He is my son. There is nothing funny about me caring for him."

Tycho turned, shrugging. "Yeah, the boss needs more care than he'd like to admit. Doesn't mean you don't look silly."

Vader's hands curled into fists, leather gloves creaking.

All the stories of Vader force-choking officers flooded Wedge's mind. The last thing he needed was two dead Rogues. "Guys, cut it out. Don't you remember your parents? How many of them would make themselves look a little silly to care for you? There's a time and a place for jokes, and this isn't it."

Tycho's shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Sorry."

Janson shrugged.

"Janson, take Ommis and Datch and keep scouting for the new base," Wedge said. Best to just remove the object of strife from the tempting situation.

Janson heaved a sigh and stood up. "Come on, guys." He drew his blaster.

After the three Rogues left, Vader relaxed a bit. He rested his hand on Luke's shoulder.

Luke put his hand over Vader's. "No killing."

"No killing," Vader agreed.

Wedge blew out a breath. He sank against the cave wall and rubbed his forehead. He had not expected to have to take charge today, especially in such a bizarre situation.

He would have to inform Luke once he recovered that he was never allowed to get promoted or resign.

Some of the Rogues shared their rations, but Wedge couldn't eat anything. He kept his eyes on Vader, who kept stroking Luke's forehead, and Luke, who seemed only half with it.

After a while, Wedge stirred himself from the cave wall and knelt at Luke's side. He laid a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Hey, can you tell me your name?"

Luke stirred. "My…my name is Luke."

"Do you know your full name?" Wedge asked.

Luke's glazed blue eyes shifted everywhere, never focusing on anything. "Luke," he repeated.

"Do you know what year it is?" Wedge asked.

"No," Luke said.

Wedge's stomach curled. Luke was too confused. Dangerously confused. "Do you know how old you are?"

"No." Luke grimaced and put his hand to his head. "It hurts to think. My head…"

Wedge grabbed Luke's hand. "Try not to touch your head." His knuckles brushed Luke's cheek. The skin was heated.

With his heart thumping, Wedge pressed the back of his hand against Luke's forehead and cursed.

"What is the matter?" Vader asked.

"Luke's burning up," Wedge said. "I don't understand. It hasn't been long enough for him to develop an infection. Can you help me lift him up?"

Vader helped Luke sit up. Luke grabbed Vader's arm and blinked rapidly, glancing around.

Wedge unwound the bandages and cursed again, dragging a hand down his face. Black streaks spread from the red wound. The claw had been poisoned.

"He is poisoned," Vader said.

"Yeah," Wedge said.

Luke stared down at his wound. "That's not good."

"No, it's not," Wedge said. "You think you can last until tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'll…I'll try." Luke rubbed his forehead. "I feel…sick." He leaned in and rested his head on Vader's shoulder.

Wedge rewrapped the wound. He pulled Vader's cloak up and draped it around Luke.

Vader pulled Luke closer to him and stroked his forehead.

Luke shuddered, his face flushing too red. "Can you…someone, please… Talk about something."

"What do you know of the beginning of the Clone Wars?" Vader asked.

"Not much," Luke said.

Despite his determination to stay awake and monitor Luke, Wedge drifted off to Vader telling stories about the Clone Wars.

Luke leaned against the cool pauldron of Vader's armor. He held onto the pauldron with one hand. His head spun and his side stabbed. His stomach churned. Shivers wracked him. He wanted to prove to his father and his men that he was a competent commander in control of the situation, but if he didn't hold onto someone, the world would fade out around him and the spinning would shoot him out into space.

Janson tromped into the cave. Water dripped off his orange jumpsuit. "It's getting nasty out there. Seems like a good place for a base though."

"Good. That's…good," Luke said.

"How you holdin' up, boss?" Janson asked.

Luke cringed as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Could be better."

A harsh voice whispered in his ear. "Stab him."

"No." Luke pressed his face against Vader's shoulder. "No."

Vader rubbed his back. "What is wrong?"

"Kill, kill, kill!" a chorus of voices whispered in his ears.

Tears sprang to his eyes. The fevered confusion of before had been better than this. "Make it stop," Luke whispered.

Vader rested a hand on his head. "It is all right. I am here. It is almost morning. There are only a few hours more until we can leave."

"I want to go home," Luke said. Home to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Beru would tuck the old blue quilt around him and Owen would take charge.

"You will," Vader said. "I promise. Just as soon as the ship gets here, you'll go home to your friends."

The tears dropped down Luke's cheeks. "Make it stop," he repeated.

Vader stroked his hair, not saying anything. Finally, Luke was lulled into sleep—or perhaps it was unconsciousness.

Wedge started awake to the chirping of birds. Sunlight streamed into the cave. Vader was spread out on the ground unmoving, Luke curled next to him asleep, using Vader's chest as a pillow. Vader had an arm wrapped around Luke's back. Luke was far too pale, but at least he was still breathing.

Wedge climbed to his feet, grimacing as soreness spread through his muscles. Falling asleep on hard rock never did his body any good. He stretched, then knelt next to Luke and felt his forehead.

Still far too warm.

Wedge glanced over at Dix, who was on watch. "What time is it?"

Dix shrugged. "It's mid-morning. The ship should be here in another three to four hours."

Wedge nodded. He unstrapped his canteen and shook Luke. "I'm sorry to wake you, boss, but I need to check your lucidity."

Luke cracked his eyes open. They were glazed. He frowned but didn't respond.

"Can you tell me your name?" Wedge asked.

Luke squeezed his eyes closed and burrowed further into Vader's leather-clad chest. Vader tightened his hold on Luke, patting his back slowly, as if he was still mostly asleep and moving on instinct.

Wedge wasn't surprised that Luke's injury and fever had made him clingy and cuddly. The guy was touchy-feely even when he was healthy, and he'd fallen asleep on several different people before on accident during long or cold missions and one time during a briefing (Princess Leia's yelling had been spectacular, but Solo had provoked her further by imitating loud snores and faking sleep once he noticed Luke had dropped off). He always turned red and apologized afterward, but sleeping Luke always subconsciously grabbed the nearest warm body and snuggled up. Vader's hovering meant he had been the closest person when Luke finally dropped off.

Wedge was surprised, though, that Vader had put up with it. Not only that, that he had apparently fallen asleep as well and appeared to be cuddling his son in return.

Wedge shook his head. The ways of the cranky Sith Lord were beyond him. "Thirsty?"

Luke gave a miniscule nod.

Wedge held his canteen to Luke's lips and helped him drink. Once Luke pulled back with a sigh, Wedge clipped the canteen back onto his belt and laid his hand on Luke's shoulder.

"I know you just want to sleep, but I need you to answer my questions first," Wedge said. "What's your name?"

"Luke," Luke whispered.

"Luke what?" Wedge pressed.

"Go away," Luke whispered.

Wedge sighed. This probably went against medical protocol, but he didn't have the heart to bother Luke any further. Especially not since he'd finally found the famous Anakin Skywalker, Vader though he may be. "Sleep well, boss." He checked his blaster. "Dix, watch over those two, I'm going to check on Janson's scouting." Maybe, if Janson had made enough progress, they'd all be able to leave once the ship got here.

"All right, pack up then," Wedge told Janson. "With the scouting finished, we may as well leave now that the ship's here."

Janson saluted. "You got it, boss."

Wedge trudged back to the cave. The ship had landed right next to all the X-wings, so all he needed to do was corral the rest of the Rogues and get Luke and Vader back to the ship and this whole nightmare could be over. After he debriefed, Princess Leia and Mon Mothma could take charge and this wouldn't be his problem anymore.

Luke was still curled up on an unmoving Vader. Most of the Rogues were either sleeping or chatting quietly.

"Ship's here," Wedge said loudly. "Get up, get packing."

The Rogues scrambled to their feet and started grabbing bags and vests. Tycho stomped out the fire.

Wedge crouched down and shook Luke. "You need to wake up. The ship's here."

Luke jerked away from him, eyes still closed.

Wedge rolled his eyes. "Come on, boss. Get up."

Luke let out a very fake snore.

Wedge sighed, but he shook Vader's shoulders instead. "Ship's here."

Vader swiped Wedge's hand away. "Five more minutes, Obi-Wan. The ship can wait."

Obi-Wan. As in the old man Luke talked about all the time? "No, it can't, Luke's injured and fevered and he needs medical attention."

Vader jerked upright. Luke slid off with a groan. Vader's helmet turned towards Wedge. "The ship."

"Yeah, the ship where we can get Luke medical attention," Wedge said.

Vader bolted to his feet. He gathered Luke in his arms, wrapping the cloak tighter around him. "Let's go."

Wedge nodded. "Tycho, you're in charge of making sure the rest of the men leave on time and in one piece, all right? I'll tell my astromech and Luke's to fly our ships out, I've got to monitor these two on the ship."

"All right," Tycho said. "Good luck, boss."

Wedge snorted. He pulled his vest back on and grabbed the abandoned medkit. "All right, Vader. Come on."

The Sith Lord tromped through the pink bushes outside, carrying a limp Luke in his arms.

Wedge followed behind him. "Ship's that way." He pointed in the direction of the ship.

Vader followed his finger. "How far?"

"Just a bit of a walk," Wedge said. "You really going to defect?"

"I am," Vader said. "I want the emperor dead. I might as well attempt to kill him with the aid of the Rebellion."

"Fair enough," Wedge said. That would be more likely to win High Command over to his side than many reasons defectors had given. Though the Rebellion didn't turn away defectors. They would have a lot of…fun deciding how long Vader's trial period would be to make sure he wasn't an Imperial spy, but that sounded like something that was above Wedge's paygrade.

Thank the Force.

Naturally, as soon as Vader drew within view of the evacuation ship, the Rebel soldiers at the end of the ramp pulled their blasters on him.

Wedge's forehead pounded with sudden pain. He raised his hands in the air. "Don't shoot! He's with me! It's all right!"

The soldiers frowned at him, pulling their blasters back.

"But that's…Darth Vader, sir," one of the men said.

"I know." Wedge rubbed his forehead. "He's defecting. Don't ask."

"But…" the man started.

"I said don't ask!" Wedge stalked into the ship. "Medbay's this way."

Vader followed Wedge into the medbay. He laid Luke down on the exam table in medbay. A 2-1B droid stepped forward.

"Does he need examination?" Too One Bee asked.

"Yeah." Wedge collapsed in a chair at the edge of the room. "Vader, sit down. I don't want you leaving medbay until we get back to the fleet." That way, he could keep an eye on both of the problem Skywalkers at once.

Vader balled his hands into fists, but he glanced to Luke, and then took a seat. The chair creaked under him, but held, thank the Force.

"I should have become a 'fresher fixer," Wedge muttered. He stood up. "I'll go talk to our droids and tell the captain we can take off, and then I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." Vader disappearing was the last thing he needed for his tension headache.

"I will not leave Luke," Vader said.

"Good." Wedge stalked out.

Thankfully, the captain and crew didn't question the presence of Vader beyond Wedge's assurance that he was a defector. Maybe, like Wedge, they felt the whole situation was above their paygrade.

Lucky nunas.

At least the flight back went smoothly.

The 2-1B let Wedge report Luke's symptoms, but didn't report back on his condition until after administering medicine to him and sticking him in a bacta tank. Most of the evac ships didn't carry them, but Wedge was willing to bet Mothma and Ackbar had preemptively sent a tank along as soon as they heard the words "Luke Skywalker needs a medevac."

"What is wrong with my son?" Vader asked.

"Yeah, what's the report?" Wedge asked.

"Commander Skywalker has a mild concussion, a gash in his temple, and is battling poison. He has a few broken ribs from the wound to his side and a mild infection in that area, but I administered bone knitters and an antidote for the poison. A few days in the bacta tank should clear up most of the trouble," Too One Bee said. "Of course, he must rest after being released from the tank due to his concussion."

"Of course," Wedge said, even though he knew Luke would be ignoring the medical advice and spouting off something about the Force and the Rebel cause and giving Princess Leia puppy dog eyes so she'd get the medical staff off his back as soon as he was released from the tank.

"Will he recover fully?" Vader demanded. "Does he have any brain damage?"

"It is my opinion that the disorientation was a result of shock and confusion from the poison, not from his head injury," the droid said. "There is no sign of permanent brain injury. With proper rest, he should make a full recovery."

Wedge slumped in his chair. No brain damage. The disorientation had sickened him with worry, but if it was just from the poison, which would be cleared up by the antidote and the bacta…

His muscles finally loosened. Luke was going to be just fine.

Wedge hovered near the ramp as the ship pulled into Home One. The ramp lowered, revealing a diminutive white-clad figure.

Princess Leia.

Here for Luke, naturally, but she was part of High Command. Wedge could pass the Vader problem off to her.

He saluted. "Ma'am. We found an Imperial defector while scouting."

The princess drew herself up, one foot already on the ramp. "A defector?"

"Darth Vader," Wedge said. "He's defecting. He's Anakin Skywalker. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find someone to debrief me so I can take a sanisteam, eat, and scream into my pillow." He hadn't meant to share that last bit, but, well, he'd earned a little time to himself to scream into the void.

The princess's eyes widened. Her face paled. "Vader? Defecting? Anakin…" She looked as if she wanted to find a pillow to scream into as well.

"Good luck, ma'am," Wedge said.

Leia nodded, automatically saying, "You're dismissed, Wedge."

Wedge bolted before Leia changed her mind.