Vader stood on the Command Deck of the ship, staring out into space, lost in contemplation. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled his attention back to the interior of the ship. He turned his head.

"My Lord," Jurgen told him, "The Rebels have accepted the Mother's house as the rendezvous point."

The snare was set. Only one thing remained, "Dispatch the orders to Commander Hoeon. Ensure that he fully understands - the mother and Tennan are to be taken alive and unharmed!"

"At once, Lord Vader."

The Dark Lord returned to his contemplation of the stars. Alive and unharmed: and ready to lead me to you, my Son.

Ryinne sat in the Deck Officer’s niche, sipping a carton of hot kaffin and wishing it was something a lot stronger. Like that home brew her father always made from the sap of the crummin trees that grew along the line of the old canal, just over the garden fence. In fact, she mused, right about now it would be Spring back home and the berries would be dark, golden green, just ripe for plucking. She smiled for a moment, picturing her brother the year he had made stilts to reach the berries from the garden. Only he’d leaned too far over and toppled off them, breaking his arm when he landed on the other side of the fence...

“Flight?”

She looked up at the Chief, the smile fading as she saw the dejected look on his face. “You didn’t find anything.”

Tarras shook his head, “Sorry, Flight, but there’s nothing out of place on any of the boards. With your permission we’re going to start checking one of the other speeders, but I reckon it has to be some sort of hidden programming.”

Ryinne closed her eyes. Sweet Deities, was this going to take forever? They’d worked non-stop, damn it, after they’d found out that the coolant was being superheated. What had she done in a previous life to deserve this? She sighed, then looked back up at him, “Start on another speeder. I’ll draft in some programming guys to look at what you’ve already got.... Has anyone informed Flight Carron?”

“No, Ma’am.”

She pushed herself to her feet, “I’ll see to it.” He turned away. “Wait up!” she called after him, suddenly changing her mind, “I’ll come over with you first.” She walked across the hangar with him, feeling the gloom and despondency growing heavier as they approached the dismantled speeder and the crews who’d been pulling her apart. She smiled at them as she got closer, pulling herself together. By the time she reached them she’d even managed to summon up some enthusiasm, “Okay, guys,” she told them, “you’ve done everything you could. We’re just going to have to work a little harder.” She heard the groans, saw the tired frowns on their faces and found herself getting angry: angry at the damned saboteur who had reduced her engineers to this! But also angry at herself, and thus at them, for allowing themselves to think they’d been beaten.

“Quit with that attitude, now!” she demanded, “I will not have anyone on this base saying that these machines aren’t flying because of the lack of enthusiasm amongst my engineers!” She relented at the startled looks on their faces, and smiled, “We’ve come too far, people, to give in now. Okay, so this guy is good, he’s hidden the problem well. But we’re better!” She looked from one to the other, and the smile widened into a grin, “Have a little faith, people! We can get this done. Now, all of you, go get something to eat. Have a break, then we can start to work on the second speeder.”

Under cover of darkness, Karrik walked leisurely down the vennel towards the house where she'd lived for the first sixteen years of her life. The stars above the narrow lane were bright in the cloudless sky, a light breeze beginning to mix the evening air towards fog. But she was warm in the soft cloak, the hood drawn up and leaving her face in shadow. She stopped before the familiar door, the pots of flowers still standing either side of the step, exactly as she remembered. Smiling, she reached out, pressing the door chime.

After a moment the com unit buzzed into life, her mother's voice asking, "Hello?"

"It's me. Long time no see," she answered simply.

The door slid open. They both stood looking at each other for a moment, her mother silhouetted against the porch light. Finally the older woman spoke, the urgency in her voice unmistakable, “Karrik, love, you have to go. Verl’s here.”

“That’s okay, Mom,” Karrik began, dismayed at her cousin's timing. She'd arrived early, wanting to discuss the situation, tell her mother what was about to happen. And if there was any time left, tell her about Wedge... "I’m here to meet Verl. He’s coming over to the Rebellion.” She smiled at the look on her mother’s face, “I know. That’s exactly what I thought when they told me.”

“Well.... I suppose even Verl could change...” She stepped back, letting her daughter in. As the door closed she opened her arms. Karrik grinned, stepping forwards into the embrace, holding onto her mother tightly, hearing the soft sigh. Finally they pulled away from each other, her mother dashing the tears away from her eyes, pushing the hood back from Karrik's face,

Karrik took her hands, "How have you been, Mom?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Lilya smiled, squeezing her daughter's hands, stepping back to take a good look at her, "You've had your hair cut. I like it!"

“Mom, listen. It’s not going to be safe for you here after tonight. The Empire’s going to be really ticked off about Verl.... I’m here to take you out as well.”

“Leave? But...”

“Mom, if you stay here, the Empire could arrest you. And I can’t let that happen...”

“But what could I do? I’m no fighter pilot, Karrik.”

“You speak three different languages and you can remember conversations almost word for word without the use of any recorder. They need diplomats as well as fighters.”

“Karrik, love, I don’t know...”

“Mom, I can’t guarantee your safety here. I won’t leave here tonight without you....” She switched arguments, knowing how stubborn her mother could be, “And besides there’s this young man that I want you to meet.”

Lilya smiled, taking her daughter’s hands in her own, “I knew it had to be something.” She squeezed Karrik’s hands quickly, “I’ll start packing while you’re talking with Verl.” Together they walked along the hallway towards the kitchen, Karrik slipping off the cloak and threw it across the banister. Her cousin was sitting with his back to the door, watching a news broadcast on the vid-screen. He glanced up as they walked into the kitchen and then smiled in that arrogant way she remembered so well...

"You look not bad for someone who's been dead for over eighteen months," he joked.

"It's a long story!"

"I'll put some Falaff on to brew, shall I?" her mother said, moving towards the cooking point. Karrik smiled at her, then turned her attention to Verl.

"So do I get to know how they managed to spirit you away?" he asked her, "Or is that all classified?"

"Oh, there's nothing too complicated," she began, settling herself beside him, "What your boys discovered from the buoy and the crash site was true. Except that the Rebels destroyed the shuttle after I got out."

"And then persuaded you to join them."

It was a statement not a question. She shook her head, laughing slightly, "Not exactly... the crash was planned. It was the only way I could join the Rebel Alliance without endangering the family. And the only way I could get the cargo to the Rebellion without arousing suspicion." He looked at her and she explained, "To just disappear the shuttle would have been dangerous, as you'll appreciate from your line of work.... so we left my uniform, personal items, cropped my hair and left the clippings. And enough of the cargo to convince a trace that the shuttle had been shot down and everything in it destroyed."

“You left enough of the cargo...” His eyes grew hard for a moment, “You were carrying ten Rebel prisoners! What did you do, kill the weakest ones and leave them behind?”

There was something in the look that he gave her that she didn't quite like. She shook her head slowly, suddenly wary. Voice cold, she told him, "They arranged the crash because I wanted out, just as they've arranged this because you want to join us. Getting their people back was a bonus."

He turned away, standing up and walking slowly to the other side of the room as if considering what she had said. She glanced at her mother, who shrugged slightly, lifting her eyebrows. For another few moments Verl said nothing, then he turned back towards her his eyes flashing hatred, "Do you really believe that I too am a traitor? Did you really think that I would betray everything that my Father believes in as you have betrayed yours?"

Karrik sprang to her feet, dread washing through her. A blaster appeared suddenly in Verl's hand and she stopped dead. "You have defiled our family name!" he spat at her, "Betrayed our heritage and your Father. It's fortunate that my Uncle is dead! Seeing you spit on everything he believed in would have killed him!"

Her dread turned to a cold, loathing anger, "How dare you!" she told him quietly, her voice calm and dangerous.

He laughed, a harsh bitter sound. Someone began battering at the front door and he smiled. From behind Karrik a storage jar sailed through the air. Verl turned, firing at it and Karrik leapt at him, knocking him to the floor. The blaster flew out of his grip, slithering across the tiles. He kicked out but she slammed him in the face with her fist, smacking his head against the wall. Roaring in anger he hit back, kneeing her in the ribs, his fist connecting with thin air as she anticipated the punch. Karrik heard her mother yell at her and obeyed the instruction, rolling away from Verl.

The sound of the blaster was deafening in the kitchen. Karrik clambered to her knees, holding her side. Her mother stood, eyes wide, still pointing the weapon at Verl. For a moment he looked at his Aunt in complete mystification, then the life faded from his eyes and his head lolled to the side.

"Go!" Lilya told her daughter.

"Mom... I..."

"Go!" Lilya told her again, rushing over and helping her daughter to her feet, "Get out of here! I'll hold them off!"

"No...." Karrik began, shaking her head, trying to take control of the situation.

"Darling," Lilya reached out, cupping Karrik's face in one hand, the blaster held in the other, "for the first time in your life, do as I ask!" The thumping at the door had stopped, the silence ominous. She glanced down the corridor then back at Karrik, "There's not much time.... and if this is the only way I can help your cause then so be it! Oh, my darling," she attempted to explain, "Verl was wrong. Your Father lived a lie! The saddest day of his life was when he watched you march off to the Academy! But today he would have been proud of you.... of both of us..."

An explosion shocked down the hall from the front door. Lilya pushed her daughter away, "Go!"

Karrik turned, taking the short distance to the back entrance in two swift strides. The door opened onto a thick, grey wall of fog. Lilya watched the blanket of moisture fold round her daughter, then turned to fire at the first stormtroopers as they charged down the hall towards her.

Vaulting the high fence into a neighbour's yard, then into another, Karrik ran through the tiny gardens towards the main thoroughfare, leaving the muffled sound of blaster fire behind her. As she reached the last but one enclosure she changed direction, slowly moving along the edge of the dwelling. Booted feet thudded along the vennel and she stopped, watching the vaguely white shadowy figures running past towards her childhood home. For a brief moment she found herself turning, starting back towards her mother. But something dragged her back, pulling her to a halt. If she went back now they'd be dead: they would all be dead, including Hoth.

"Mom..." Tears threatened and she forced them away. The troopers had gone... Darting across the vennel, she ran along the side wall of the opposite dwelling, across the back fence and into the next. She slowed as she reached the next building, listening for movement, hearing almost nothing in the enveloping fog. Nonchalantly she stepped out of the garden onto the avenue.

"You there! Halt!"

Swearing, knowing that she would never be able to talk her way out, she turned and ran. The stun bolt hit the wall behind her, the blast almost knocking her off her feet. Shouts echoed behind her as she continued down the road. Another bolt sizzled past her shoulder. The heat charred her blouse, stinging at her skin. Cursing she ran faster, dodging from one side of the road to the other, knowing that the second blast hadn't been a stun charge.

Turning into the main thoroughfare she headed towards the centre of the town, towards childhood haunts, places that she hoped she still knew like the back of her hand. They weren't firing any more but she could hear them behind her - the dull thump of booted feet pounding against the paved surface. The fog disoriented her, but she knew that she had to be approaching a flight of steps, a short cut down to the main street that would take her into the centre of the town. The dark smudge of the wall at her side broke for a moment. She slid to a stop, turning back. Grabbing the handrail to guide herself down the steps she raced, as fast as she dared, towards the street below.

Another laser bolt hit the handrail just behind her, the concussion wave knocking her forwards. The rail ripped out of her grasp as she fell. Her foot hit the next step awkwardly. The force twisted her ankle, turning her sideways as she pitched headlong down the stone staircase.

The Falcon turned gracefully in the air then settled slowly onto the hangar floor. Chewbacca pushed himself out of the chair, rushing to the sleeping area. Han’s breathing sounded better, but he was still unconscious and the Wookiee still didn’t like his colour. Chewie wrapped him in the blanket against the frigid air of the hangar then lifted him in his arms and moved into the corridor towards the ramp.

Elhen Anders stood watching as the hatch swung down. All the way in, Chewbacca had been trying to tell them something, but no one could understand what he had been saying. Chewie appeared at the top of the ramp, Han Solo’s body wrapped in a blanket cradled against the huge Wookiee like a child. Anders’ stomach lurched. She turned, yelling for the Deck Officer as Chewbacca strode down the ramp. She rushed towards Chewie, telling him, “Get Solo to the med bay. I’ll let them know you’re coming!”

The Wookiee bayed something at her then loped across the hangar towards the exit, scattering gawking personnel. Anders turned, yelling, “Deck Officer!”

Arin Peler appeared at her side, “Here, Ma’am!”

“Alert the med centre that they have Solo coming in! Then let Major Derlin know and ask him to meet me there.”

The Deck Officer moved to obey her orders and she ran across the hangar after the Wookiee. What the hells had happened? What had gone wrong? More importantly, where was Karrik? She pushed away her rising concern, knowing that there was nothing they could do until they could talk to Solo and find out.

By the time she reached the medical centre, Solo was lying on his side on one of the beds, a droid at his shoulder. The unit was peeling a covering from a large, ugly bruise that stretched across the top of his back and she could see another on his side, as if someone had hit him with a massive fist. It reminded her of the wounds she’d once seen on a murder victim when someone had used a shock stick on her. Nasty, very nasty.

There was a small commotion behind her and Derlin arrived, closely followed by the Princess. Leia stopped short, her heart flipping as she saw Han lying lifeless on the bed. She crossed to Chewbacca, gently touching his arm, asking, “Chewie? What happened?”

The Wookiee answered her and, surprised that Leia obviously understood, Anders turned as the Princess asked, “Do you know who?”

Chewbacca shook his head, mewling something softly. Leia nodded, patting Chewie’s arm then turned to Anders and Derlin, “Karrik was met by her contact and as far as Chewie knows, everything went to plan. Han was jumped by a bounty hunter on the way back to the Falcon. He said that it was one of Jabba’s men.”

“Jabba?” Anders asked.

“He’s a crime lord. Han was on his way to pay him money that he owed when he got side tracked at Yavin. The Hutt doesn’t forget. Han has a price on his head. The bounty hunter tried to cash in.”

Anders and Derlin exchanged looks but said nothing. Leia watched the still form of the Corellian, emotions battling within her. Finally giving into the urge, she walked round the other side of the bed and reached out, gently resting her hand on his shoulder. There was no life in him, the spark of wit that so irritated her was gone… and for some reason that frightened her. Despite his arrogance and posturing she knew that she would miss him if he wasn’t part of her life. And yet he was so infuriatingly self confident… with eyes that she didn’t want to admit could look right into her soul – if she only chose to let them. She glanced across at Chewbacca. The Wookiee’s face was emotionless, but his stance betrayed the worry and the concern.

And that, she told herself, was why she was feeling this way. It was nothing to do with Han. Chewie was a friend, someone she would trust with her life and she didn’t like to see him hurting like this. Hurt Han Solo and you would hurt Chewbacca. Yes, that was it, she didn’t like to see Chewie hurt. She set her heart on that answer, ignoring the fact that it was the human she stayed with, not the Wookiee.

The droid moved back. Everyone looked at it as it turned, “Captain Solo has been sedated to allow him time to heal,” it told them. “There has been no damage to his heart and no permanent damage to his internal organs. Analgesics and anti-inflammatories have been administered. All the injuries will heal and the bruising will fade, it is just a matter of rest and time. He will be asleep for at least the next ten hours.”

Chewbacca whuffed in relief and Leia finally left Han’s side, moving back round the bed towards the Wookiee. She laid a hand on his arm telling him, “I’m sure it will be all right if you want to stay.”

He growled his thanks, telling her that he would remain and she nodded, giving him a sympathetic smile before turning to Derlin and Anders.

The knock on the door was tentative. Rieekan looked up, giving Ryinne a quick smile, “Flight, come in. How goes it?”

She sighed, wearily, stepping into the room, “It doesn’t, Sir.” He quirked an eyebrow, indicating that she should sit down. She moved forward, dropping into the chair as she continued, “We’ve pulled the first speeder apart board by board and there’s no faults apparent.” She shook her head, her voice tinged with exasperation, “We’ve started on the second speeder just to make sure that it isn’t something obvious that we’re missing, but I doubt we’ll find anything.” She sighed again, “I don’t think that it’s faulty parts. My gut feeling is that it’s a program buried somewhere within the chips. And that could take days to find.”

“It definitely isn’t a design fault?”

“I don’t think it is. Looking at data, I’d say that it was designed to weaken the joint just enough that the in-flight vibration would cause catastrophic failure. The pilots wouldn’t stand a chance. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near one that blew in a hangar.”

“So,” Rieekan said, voice heavy with disgust, “Incom do have a saboteur…”

“Maybe not, Sir,” Ryiine sighed. “This sort of thing can be added post production. And we had the T-47s modified for use in these temperatures. It could have been integrated then. We haven’t had problems like this, that I know of, with the speeders before. As much as I hate to admit it, the saboteur could possibly…” She stopped, changing what she had just said, “…is probably an Alliance Engineer.”

Rieekan looked at her, his eyes cold and foreboding, “Leave this with me, Flight. I promise that I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Then his mood lightened, slightly, “How long do you estimate before the speeders are on line?”

“Once we find the program and assuming it’s the same one in all of them, you’ll have them all flying inside two hours. But I can’t give you an estimate for finding the damned program. It could be another three days, or I could go back and someone will have already found it.”

He nodded, considering her answer, “Thank you, Flight. Keep up the good work and my compliments to the rest of your crew. They’re doing a good job.”

She pushed herself to her feet, “Thank you, Sir. They’ll appreciate that.” She turned, leaving his office, walking down the corridor with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt on the way in. The General was behind them and his tone had insinuated that he would use the Force itself to find out who was responsible. Her mood lifted even further. Damn it, she wasn’t going to let some jumped up Imperial excuse for an engineer beat her!

Luke raced along the corridor towards the medical centre, ripping off his goggles and gloves as he ran. He skidded to a halt as Leia, Derlin and Anders walked out of the door. Leia smiled at him, holding up a hand, indicating that he should wait. Whatever had happened, Luke thought, it couldn’t be too serious, otherwise Leia wouldn’t be so calm. His worry for the Corellian receded as the Intelligence officers spoke with the Princess for a moment then moved off down the corridor. Leia turned to him.

“Han?” he began. “Someone said that he’d been injured!”

Leia nodded, her face growing solemn. She walked towards him, slipping a hand round his waist and guiding him away from the med section, “He’s going to be fine. He’s just a little bruised and battered. He’s been sedated, but only to allow him some time to heal.” She stopped, turning and looking at Luke, “You know what he’s like. He’d be out of bed and working on the Falcon if he could. We’re just ensuring that he gets the rest that he needs. Chewie’s with him.”

“So he’s okay?”

Leia looked at him. He was about the same age as her, came from a completely different background, she had seen so much more and so much less than he had. Yet there was a bond, holding them together. She smiled, knowing that she couldn’t lie to him, even if she tried, “He’s fine, Luke. Honestly. He’ll hurt a lot when he finally wakes up, but he’ll be fine.”

Luke said nothing for a moment, then told her, “Probably thinks it’s going to get him out of Tauntaun duty.”

She laughed, “Probably.”

He sobered, asking quietly, “And everything went okay with Karrik?”

“How do you know about that?” she demanded, immediately on the defence.

He refused to look at her, admitting, “Wedge said something about her not being here. I just sort of put two and two together.” He glanced at her, “Leia, you can tell me to mind my own business if you want, it’s just that… Well, if Wedge has found out that something happened to Han and if Han is involved in whatever Karrik’s doing, Wedge will be sick with worry.”

That stopped Leia in her tracks. She had completely forgotten about Wedge Antilles. Suddenly she remembered the grin on his face, the completely mystified disbelief as he stood beside her, watching the Falcon disappear - then told her that Karrik had agreed to be his wife. She swore, startling Luke. “Go and find him. Let him know that as far as we are aware Karrik is fine. This had nothing to do with her.”

Luke nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, then rushed away down the corridor. Leia stood for a moment, her fingers touching her face where he had kissed her. Her feelings for Luke confused her as much as Han Solo infuriated her. Maybe it was everything that they had been through together, maybe that’s why she felt so much for him? Perhaps she would feel the same way about Han if he wasn’t so objectionable. And she did care for Chewie, but that was more as an older brother than anything else. Sighing, she turned walking back into the medical section to wait with Chewie. Why couldn’t life be simple, she thought angrily. She had enough problems dealing with the Empire without the added chaos of men.

Karrik's head slammed against the steps, dulling her senses for a moment. She was vaguely aware that the tumbling had finally stopped, knew that she had to get up and keep running. She started to push herself up from the ground but her shoulder stabbed waves of pain through her and she bit down on a moan. Trying to breathe through the haze of pain, she finally made it unsteadily to her feet, and stumbled away from her pursuers. Three white armoured shapes loomed at her out of the fog. She faltered to a halt then, changing direction, staggered towards the sound of the river. Damn it, she should have gone to the bridge and jumped....

A laser bolt sparked the ground ahead of her, a voicing ordering, "You there! Halt!"

She forced herself to walk on.

Booted feet clumped quickly after her. Then someone reached out, grabbing her injured arm, spinning her round. She yelped, nausea and darkness washing over her. A second trooper caught hold of her other arm. Her legs began to give way and she had to steady herself against him to stop herself falling. More troopers were arriving. She heard an electronic voice announce, "I think we've found her, Sir." There was a moment's pause. She could hear the river behind her, beckoning her escape and through the pain an idea began to form. The voice was speaking again, "Yes, Sir. Keep searching until we verify this one's identity. You two, bring her..."

The first trooper loosened his grip to get a better hold of her. She staggered against the other trooper, dropping her full weight against him. He tottered sideways, overbalancing. For a terrifying second she thought she would go down with him, then he let go of her arm. Turning, adrenaline numbing the agony that rushed through her from her injured shoulder she ran towards the sound of the river.

The stun charge caught her high on the back, pitching her forwards. She felt herself falling, screamed in frustration as the darkness crawled slowly in on her. The rush of the river filled her ears, mocking her as the stormtroopers dragged her up off the ground. Then the darkness finally swooped in.

Luke found Wedge in the simulators, grinding through an exercise in combat tactics. He checked the tally sheet – the scores weren’t bad, but they weren’t good either. Skywalker traded looks with Zev, the duty sim instructor, who shrugged, telling him, “His mind’s somewhere else. His concentration is off. I’ve seen him do a lot better.”

Luke nodded, saying nothing. He knew Wedge well enough to realise that his friend was worried about something and in all probability that something was Solo and, therefore, Karrik. Wedge was trying to work through his demons on the simulator. Only this time, it didn’t seem to be working. Luke waited for Wedge to finish, slowly realising just how serious his friend was about Karrik. And he found himself assailed by conflicting emotions: pleased, and yet at the same time jealous, that his friend had finally found someone that he desperately wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

In the cockpit of the simulator, Wedge heard his “wingman” shout a warning. He twisted round trying to see the TIE that had dropped in on his tail. The X-wing juddered as the TIE lined him up and strafed him. Wedge jinked left then right, pulling the nose abruptly up to try and swing in behind the TIE. The Imperial stuck to his tail, as if anticipating the move.

The Artoo unit squealed as blaster fire destroyed Wedge’s remaining shields. Wedge swallowed hard. The alarm whined, dragging his memory back to the fight at Taspin. Adrenaline pumped, fear driving away reality. All worry for Karrik’s safety fled as he dropped back into the Taspin scenario, forgetting that this was only a simulator ride.

He yelled at his wingman. Her reply was the explosion behind him and to the left as she took out one of the pursuing TIEs. He started to push the nose of the fighter down then yanked round to the left, corkscrewing in the turn. It broke the TIEs aim and the Imperial suddenly found himself on the receiving end as the wingman fired on him. Wedge pulled the fighter all the way round, yelling to his wingman that the TIE was his. She acknowledged, pulling out and round to drop in behind Wedge, watching his back. The TIE did his best to break Wedge’s lock, but Wedge was a man possessed. The TIE turned, straight into Wedge’s cross hairs and he fired, whooping in victory as his first volley hit home and the TIE erupted in a brief ball of flame.

Sudden fear flipped in his gut as the instruments began to fluctuate, power falling towards zero. Then the fear lurched to surprise as the X-wing canopy began to open of its own accord and he remembered, finally, where he was. Luke grinned at him, “Having fun?”

Wedge shot him a venomous look, “Not exactly.” He pushed himself out of the seat, swinging his legs over the side and dropping the few inches to the floor. Worry for Karrik was gnawing at him again - combined with guilt that he had, however briefly, forgotten about her.

“I take it you heard about Han?” Luke asked.

Wedge glared at him, his eyes sparking, “I’m not supposed to know anything! Remember?”

Luke grabbed Wedge’s arm, hustling him across the floor and into the corridor. As the simulator room door closed behind them, Wedge ripped his arm free of Luke’s grasp. Luke let him go, “I’ve just spoken to Leia…”

Wedge turned on him, snarling, “Isn’t it good to have friends in high places!”

Luke knew that Wedge was worried but, damn it, he was trying to help and he wasn’t prepared to take this from his friend. His eyes narrowed and he asked Wedge coldly, “Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?”

Worry for Karrik overcame the anger. He heard the vehemence in Luke’s voice and realised that he had overstepped the mark. He looked away, apologising, “Sorry. I just…”

Luke relented, “Thought the worst? It’s okay… Look Leia says that Karrik is fine. Han was attacked after she made her contact. And it was nothing to do with the mission. It was a bounty hunter from Jabba the Hutt... Han owes him money or something.”

Wedge had closed his eyes in relief. He leant back against the wall, “Thanks…”

Luke grinned, slapping him on the arm, “Anytime, buddy.”

Wedge turned suddenly, “How’s Han?”

“He’ll be okay. Leia’s words were – he’ll be sore when he wakes up but he’ll be fine.” The young man’s eyes narrowed again and he demanded, “Have you eaten this morning?”

Wedge shook his head, admitting, “No. I’ve been wanting to throw up since I heard about Han…”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been out in the freezing cold with only a Tauntaun for company. And I’m starving!” He grabbed Wedge’s arm, dragging him down the corridor, “Let’s go!”

Karrik lay unmoving. The aftermath of the stun charge fogged her mind as she surfaced through pain, reality filtering slowly into her consciousness. The floor beneath her thrummed with life, vibrating gently beneath her cheek. Her shoulder ached, her chest flaring pain each time she took a breath. The residue of terror flickered just beyond her comprehension...

Then she realised that her arms were secured behind her back and that awareness slowly drew a memory to the surface: something awful had happened... hadn't it? She dragged her eyes open, carefully moving her head.

The stormtrooper saw the movement and looked down at the prisoner lying on the floor of the shuttle. He saw the terror wash over her face, heard the small sound that she made. He lifted his gaze away.

The memories of the last few hours slammed at her - her mother, Verl, the stormtroopers.... Pinpricks of light began dancing at the edge of her vision, slowly spreading inwards, blinding her. Pain erupted through her head. She closed her eyes, moaning softly as darkness rushed, pulling her back down into unconsciousness.

Jurgen straightened his uniform jacket, then took another step towards the doors. They slid open, soundlessly. Vader turned towards him. Taking a deep breath, Jurgen walked into the room. The doors closed behind him, "Lord Vader, we have the woman." He swallowed, unconsciously wetting his lips before continuing, "There was, however a slight problem...."

Vader said nothing, waiting for the explanation. Jurgen went on, hurriedly, "She evaded the ground troops at the house, My Lord, escaping into the streets. During the subsequent pursuit she was injured..."

"The troops were ordered to take her alive and unharmed!"

Jurgen forced himself to take a deep breath, calming himself before answering, "The men involved are being disciplined, My Lord. And the woman was not seriously injured, merely a dislocated shoulder and concussion. The effects of the stun charge will have fully worn off within the hour. However... the mother and Verl Tennan are dead."

The Dark Lord's anger rolled towards him in a wave, pounding through him and he held his breath as Vader turned, striding across the room towards the observation window.

Fools! Vader seized his rage, drawing on it as he strove for composure. Incompetents! A simple matter of arresting a Rebel had become yet another debacle! He had hoped to keep this quiet - interrogate the woman and find his son before the Emperor was forced to move. But news of a pitch battle through the streets of the city would reach Palpatine's ears. He would demand to know why the operation had been set up, why Vader had not informed him of the plans. Lying to his Emperor had never been a problem. Hiding his emotion from Palpatine was a completely different matter...

And yet forewarned was forearmed. He knew that it was simply a matter of time before Palpatine contacted him. Meditation would help him disguise his true sentiments during the encounter. Time was slowly running out, but for the moment it was still running to his advantage. He swung back to Jurgen, ordering, "Give Tennan any medical treatment she requires. Inform me as soon as she is ready! I will question her myself. And bring Commander Hoeon to me!"

Leia had finally convinced Chewbacca to get some needed sleep. He had protested that Wookiees could survive for days on very little sleep. She had accepted that, but pointed out that he had just found his closest friend badly injured and then had flown half way across the galaxy with the worry that Han might die before they got back to Hoth. He had had a shock and he needed rest. And she would stay with Han while he slept for a little while. Chewbacca had agreed, but only on the understanding that he slept in the med centre.

So that was how she had found herself alone with Han Solo. Initially she had sat in a chair across the room, reading technical reports. But he had moaned softly as the painkillers began to wear off. She had summoned the droid, only the machine had refused to administer any more, saying that it was too dangerous to give him anything else so soon. But if the pain became too great they would consider the use of Bacta.

Leia had nodded then dragged the chair across to Han’s bedside, gently stroking his hair, quietly shushing him, trying to soothe the hurt and ease the pain. And once again she found her feelings rushing away from her, confusing her. He was so damned arrogant, so damnably infuriating… and had a smile that she couldn’t quite bring herself to admit left her slightly giddy. Most of the time she could dismiss it, bury herself in other duties, but now she found herself wondering just exactly what her life would be like if he wasn’t there to rub her up the wrong way. She had a nasty suspicion that life would seem just a little empty without him.

And then, of course, there was Luke…

A quiet, murmured question broke her train of thought, “Miss me, Your Highness?”

Before she realised what she was doing she had smiled. But his eyes had closed again and he hadn’t seen the lapse. She managed to gather some hardness into her voice, telling him, “No.” Then she added, wickedly, “Did you have to make such a scene on your return just to get my attention?”

His eyes fluttered open, “Did it work?”

“Oh, you got everyone’s attention, Captain Solo.”

“Good.” He looked up at her, suddenly realising that her hand was resting lightly on his. He closed his eyes, lying still, enjoying the contact, however slight, and wishing after all that he had bought the gossamer scarf…

Fates, but he ached. It was the first thing that he had become aware of, his whole body ached, every single muscle and bone. He moved now, trying to ease himself into a more comfortable position and instantly regretting it. He grunted in disgust as Leia’s warning to stay still came a moment too late. “I’ll get Chewbacca,” she told him.

He tried to piece together what he could remember. Someone had jumped him from behind… a bounty hunter from Jabba. He remembered the shock stick and calling Chewie for help. He could even remember Chewie reaching him. But after that it was a blank. He heard someone walking round the bed and opened his eyes. Chewbacca’s dark gaze peered back at him, the Wookiee whuffing a quiet question. “Feel?” Han groaned, “I feel as if I’ve gone six rounds with the Benedieaein wrestling coach… How long have I been out?”

Startled by Chewbacca’s answer he tried to sit up, but the movement caused him too much pain. He sank back down against the pillows, Chewie rumbling that Anders and Derlin had been debriefed and that the only things they needed confirmed was that Han had indeed been attacked by a Bounty Hunter and that the incident was totally unrelated to Karrik’s reason for being on Ord Mantell.

Han frowned, biting back a groan and trying to remember the Bounty Hunter. “It was s’Sasshnyan Chae..” he said, finally, “…I think. One of… Jabba’s lot, definitely. He mentioned… Greedo…”

Chewbacca growled. “I know,” Han agreed, “But obviously he hasn’t forgotten. And three years is a long time to owe Jabba money…” He opened his eyes, looking up at Chewie, “We’re putting these people at risk now, Buddy. If Chae had gotten hold of me before Karrik made her contact it could have been disastrous.”

He patted Chewbacca’s arm as the Wookiee rumbled another comment, “I know. But if we’re going to stay we’ve got to pay Jabba off first.” He closed his eyes again, “Just think about it for a while, Chewie. Then let me know what you want to do.”

Karrik lay still in the cold darkness of the cell. She had no idea how long she had been here: time had merged into a constant blackness that left her with nothing but the pain. Most of her conscious thought recognised the sense depravation, the softening up period for all Imperial prisoners. The rest of her screamed silently. Her hands had gone numb, but it was too much effort to move position, it promised too much agony. So she simply lay still, letting the part of her mind that was still sane tumble over the memories.

It had been a trap, all of it, and she had walked straight in. She should have known, should have realised... Verl, damn you, I hope you rot in hell. Tears forced their way into her throat, flowing silently down her cheeks as she prayed to her grandmother's goddess that her mother was dead and hadn't suffered. The tears surprised her. She had thought she had none left to shed.

Why? What had it all been for? Had Verl just been trying to prop himself another few points up the promotion ladder? What information could she possibly have that...

With nauseating finality the answer hit her and she couldn’t stop the moan of realisation... Hoth. They were after Hoth. Goddess, but she could picture the smug triumph on Verl's face as he realised that he would be able to deliver the newest Rebel base into the hands of the Empire... into Vader's clutches...

Wedge... Tears welled up again, terror clutching at her. She forced them away, dragging her breathing into deep, even lungfulls. Concentrating on the picture of Wedge in her mind she fought down the panic, forcing herself towards calm. She had to stay in control, had to stay composed... If she didn't, Wedge and the others would die. No matter what happened she had to stay silent...

Darling, delicious, gorgeous, infuriating Wedge... my love...

The door crashed open. Feet pounded down the steps into the cell. Fear surged through her again. Calm... she had to remain calm... Her heart hammered against her chest, her throat clogging.... Wedge! Just think of Wedge! Picture his face! Feel his touch... Hands caught hold of her dragging her to her feet and she bit back a cry as pain stabbed through her shoulders, into her neck.

Wedge, concentrate on Wedge!

For a moment there was no sound. Then an even, regulated rasp reverberated through the confined space. Karrik lifted her head and opened her eyes, looking up at the sinister figure of Darth Vader.

Hysteria washed away her resolve, freezing the breath in her lungs as he stepped down into the cell, a pain droid floating in the air at his side. He moved down the stairs towards her, cloak slithering behind him. Malevolence radiated around the room, caressing her, feeding on her fear. Involuntarily she tried to step back, but the two officers held her fast.

The door hissed closed behind him and for a moment Vader considered the woman. So this was the key to the information - the Rebel traitor who would supply the location of the base where Skywalker was hiding. Her terror swept towards him, a wall of power that he embraced. Behind the obsidian mask, he smiled.