A Change of Plans: OT Fic

At long last, I've written more to this story. And here it is:



Han stretched his stiff, cramped legs and rubbed a hand across his eyes. Noting the stiffness that also resided in his shoulders and back, he grimaced. He'd been sitting on this crate for far too long with too little change in his "patient's" condition. For three hours he'd sat at Luke's bedside placing cold compresses against the kid's skin, trying in vain to bring down the fever that gripped him. In those three hours, Luke had not so much as opened an eye or voiced one word of complaint. Instead he remained sweat-soaked, flush-faced, and as utterly unconscious as he'd been when Han had first discovered him this way. The search through the medkit had produced a single fever-reducing tablet that was a year past its expiration date and nearly ineffective. Han had managed to coax the tablet down the kid's throat, but three hours later, he had yet to see any results.

Rising to his feet in frustration, he headed toward the galley for a drink. Once again, he'd have preferred something alcoholic, but water would have to do. There was nothing else on board, since her Highnessness had so graciously raided the Falcon's stores for the Rebellion's post-Yavin celebration. Sipping water instead of rum for the second time that day, Han noted how good it felt to be standing. That thought immediately prompted him to question why he had remained sitting for three hours straight in the first place. After all, he was hardly the caretaker type. While searching his time-numbed brain for an answer, Chewie entered.

"No, there's no change," Han remarked before the Wookie could even ask. "If anything, I'd say he's getting worse."

At Chewie's concerned growl, Han grimaced.

"Yeah, I know we have two hours left, pal," he answered, putting as much of a nonchalant attitude into his voice as he could. "But what else can I do? Just keep him from dyin' 'til we can get to the base, and hope they can treat him once we get there."

In response to Han's comment, Chewie voiced yet another concern.

Han nearly choked on his water. "What do you mean what-if-they-don't-let-us-land? They'd better! Her Highnessness owes me and the kid her life, for cryin' out loud! And after that shot with the Death Star, that kid is the only reason there's still a Rebellion left to carry on this fight. Contagion or no contagion, we're landing this thing!" He took a final gulp of water, and slammed the container down on the galley counter. "Besides," he added, "I'm not sick yet. And neither are you. That oughta' count for somethin'."

Chewie, although he said nothing, gave Han a look that spoke volumes.

Unfortunately, it only served to get the already irritated smuggler only more annoyed. "Don't even start thinking that I care about this kid, or the Rebellion. I'm just looking to get paid so I can get back into Jabba's good graces. And I can't do that if I'm in orbit around a planet 'cause they won't let me land, now can I?"

The Wookie continued to look skeptical.

"What?" Han exclaimed in exasperation. "You want me to say that I'm worried? Well, I am! I ain't cold, pal. I don't wanna see a kid his age sufferin' from who knows what! Especially not after what he's already been through. He doesn't deserve it." He narrowed his eyes at his partner. "But does it change anything? No. I already said, I ain't in this little revolution of theirs. And I'm not goin' to be. So don't go thinkin' that just because I'm showin' a little bit of concern for this kid that I'm gonna up and join their little war. True, I got no love for the Empire, but I don't want them breathin' down my neck either."

At that, Chewie bristled and roared angrily. Even one who didn't know how to decipher Wookie would be hard pressed not to get the gist of Chewie's reply. And it was one that Han didn't want to hear.

"So then you join the Rebellion, why don't ya!" Han yelled before storming out of the galley. Chewie's hatred of the Empire was certainly well wa

 

Ohh... awesome job, KnightMara! I am enjoying your writing so much; just the right amount of Luke-torture to make my day. =) And I also really like the actions of Han more clear; clears up another motive for joining the Rebellion. His conversations with Chewie are so in character, I like how he is constantly denies any friendly involvement.

Hope you get more snatches of time soon; this story is such a pleasure to read!

 

Han, Han, Han.

There are no lies as transparent as the ones we tell ourselves.

So you're worried about the 'kid'. Big deal.

Or are you really worried about her Worshipfulness being mad at you if something bad happens to Luke?

 

Another great installment.

 

Ah. Luke torture, my first true love =)
Hehe it's been so long I forgot all about it

 

Ditto. Especially Herman's comment. More please?

 

may i echo that request?

 

A KnightMara story. Must read.
Han is characterized as he should be. Poor Luke, did the bounty hunter give him something to make him sick and easier to catch?
Rain, I'll send our rain down to you. If that's what it takes to get more story, I'll do it.

 

up!

 

up up up!

 

Hey, thanks for all the feedback. I'm sorry it's taking so long between posts. I've been struggling with asthma for the past week, and it's wearing me down (so please, no rain!).

Anyway, here is the next post. It's a little bit graphic in its descriptions (you've been warned) as I'm building up to put Han through the ringer emotionally, and I'm using poor Luke to do so. But here it is:



Han stepped into the cabin, half-expecting to see Luke in exactly the state in which he'd been left, and half-hoping to see some improvement. He hadn't counted on a panicky, blue-eyed stare coming from a face that was gasping for air.

"Can't breathe," choked the rebel through dry, blue lips. Indeed, a horrible whistling sound filled the cabin as he struggled to take a breath. "Han, please!" he gasped desperately.

Han forced himself to be calm and take action. "Chewie, get in here!" he hollered as he crossed to the kid's bedside and tried to assess the situation. Luke was sweating profusely, and his fever was still up. Although he was now partially alert, his eyes were still glazed and focused solely on Han as he fought to breathe. Han felt helpless as he watched the kid's struggle, and he racked his brain for something he could do. The kid had been coughing earlier, which meant that his airways were probably congested. More than likely, the kid just needed to cough again. At least, that's what he hoped.

Chewie rushed in a split second later, clearly alarmed.

"Chewie, grab that basin," Han ordered, indicating the bowl he'd been using earlier for compresses, "and help me prop him up."

Chewie complied swiftly, and together he and Han managed to heft the wheezing rebel into a sitting position. Grabbing the basin, Han grimaced. This was not going to be at all pleasant.

"Support him, Chewie," Han said, and immediately the Wookie's arms got a firm grip on the young man who was now shivering violently and making grotesque rasping sounds. Han focused his attention on Luke. "Okay, kid, listen to me. I want you to take as deep a breath as you can."

Luke fixed Han with a terrified gaze, and Han noted that his lips seemed to be an even darker shade of blue than they were earlier. The kid was suffocating.

"Do it now, Luke!" Han yelled, suddenly fearful himself and trying to fight it. He needed to remain calm. He didn't want this kid to die. Not on his ship. Not like this.

In response, Han felt Luke's clammy hand seize his wrist as the kid squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on drawing a deep breath. Unable to look, Han glanced down at the hand that held his arm. The fingers and nails were violet. Within seconds however, Luke's effort had its desired effect. The kid doubled over the basin in a violent fit of coughing as his lungs tried to clear themselves. Chewie held on tightly, firmly supporting him as cough after cough shook his weakened frame. Han could feel Luke's hand on his wrist trembling with the effort, and unconsciously he moved his other hand to the back of Luke's head in uncharacteristic sympathy. "That's it, kid," he murmured. "You're doin' okay."

Han flicked his gaze to Chewie, only to see his own concern mirrored in the Wookie's returning glance. Luke's fit seemed to last an eternity, and the smuggler was growing more and more worried as it continued. When at last the coughing stopped, the kid was left gasping for air and sagging weakly into Chewie's arms.

When Han was pretty sure Luke wasn't going to start up again, he disengaged Luke's now limp grasp from his arm and offered a slight smile upon seeing the fingers flesh-colored again. "Feeling better, now?"

Luke's lips, now merely a pale pink, curved upward weakly. "Thanks," he whispered hoarsely.

Chewie growled a question.

Han shook his head. "Better not lay him back down like that, or he might get choked up again." He glanced around the cabin for something to prop him up with, and spotted the pillow and blanket on the opposite bunk. "Hang on a second," he said, shifting

 

Han rubbed his weary eyes, and glanced at the chrono. A half-hour remained until they jumped out of hyperspace and into orbit around Krall. A little more than half an hour before Luke received any medical attention. And a good hour until Han would be able to walk up to Her Highnessness and bid her a fond farewell. In the past hour, Han's resolve to leave the rebellion had hardened and become something akin to an ice-cold diamond that rested uncomfortably in his chest. Equally uncomfortable was the silence that Chewie now favored him with.

From his seat in the cockpit, Han craned his neck in the direction of the sleeping cabin where the Wookie now sat watching over the ailing rebel. Han had grown too frustrated with the futility of trying to take care of someone whose condition continued to deteriorate in spite of all the effort being spent, and had given up. He was no doctor, and he was thoroughly ill at ease with trying to nurse a sick friend. A sick rebel, he mentally corrected himself. He'd only known the kid a few months, and he was more of a pain than anything else. He seemed to follow Han around like some sort of adoring shadow, trying to pick up as much as he could from the smuggler while he could. Han had assented, figuring that if the kid wised up in the process, it would strengthen his chances of surviving this war he was hell-bent on fighting. Throwing a glance back toward the rest of the ship once more, Han frowned as he wondered what the kid's chances were now.

He shook his head wearily, trying to rid himself of the strange feeling that had crept over him at the thought. He must be feeling sorry for the kid, he figured. After all, it was understandable to feel pity for someone who'd come from nowhere to become a hero, only to fall victim to a mysterious illness. Hell, he'd feel sorry for anyone who had to go that way. He'd almost done it himself as a kid. He remembered just how close he'd come to death, and shuddered. If Dewlanna hadn't paid for . . ..

Han clenched his fists and shut his eyes. He wasn't going to think about that now. He wasn't that scared kid anymore. He'd fought his way out of more dire circumstances than people twice his age, and he'd managed to finally carve out a decent life for himself. He had a ship, he had a job, he had a reputation, and he had Chewie. He didn't need anything else. He certainly didn't need this war and the inevitable pain it would bring. After all, how upsetting would this whole situation be right now if he actually cared for the kid? He might be as nervous and tense as Chewie was.

As if on cue, Chewie's nervous howl suddenly broke into his thoughts.

"What, Chewie?" Han called back, wearily getting to his feet and moving out of the cockpit.

The Wookie's reply had Han sprinting back toward the bunk where Luke had been resting since they'd left Ryall.

"He's what!" Han quickly entered the cabin only to have Chewie's words confirmed. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but the kid had taken a drastic turn for the worse.

The cabin was filled with the sound of Luke's raspy breathing as he tossed restlessly upon the bed. The fevered flush was gone from his cheeks, replaced with a deathly pallor that enveloped his features. Combined with the sheen of sweat that covered his face, it gave Han the impression of a grotesque wax carving of the young rebel. Tentatively placing a hand on the kid's forehead, Han flinched as he noted that in spite of his colorless appearance, the fever had spiked. He was hotter than ever, and Han could see the vein in Luke's neck pulsing rapidly as his head arched, eyes rolling backward under trembling lids. His lips moved as though mumbling something that could be neither heard nor understood.

Han dropped to his knees beside him. "Oh, shavit!" he swore, grasping the kid's face in his hands. "Don't do this, kid! Luke, do you hear me? Don't you dare do this!"

The kid continued to thrash feverishly, his breathing becoming more rapid and shallow. Han rose shakily, franti

 

Great posts as usual, KM! You have me on the edge of my seat, worried about Luke's condition.

 

Well, I'm glad someone's reading this! Thanks Jee-dai.

Sorry if I'm a little graphic. . .after struggling with asthma for a week, writing about suffocation was kinda' theraputic. Anyway, the rest of the story focuses on Han. . .so I'm upping this!

::smiles innocently::

 

Can't wait to see how you resolve this, KM!!

 

Thsi is really good. I don't know what took me so long to actually read in Bad, Jedipati, Bad. Oh well, it's still good.

 

Now how the heck did you manage to sneak not one, but two posts in here without me catching either one?

However it happened, I should commend you on two great posts. I especially like your comparison of Luke to a wax carving. Very vivid imagery there.

I know how Han feels, always getting dragged into matters he'd rather have no part of. Why can't I just say 'No' more often?

Don't give in Han. Let the Rebellion stumble on without you.

 

Up, more, et cetera!

 

That was very vivid. I'm here and reading (when I can). More please.

 

NO!!!!!
You cannot leave it there

 

well it took me a while but i am here and i am craving more! very nice mention of Dewlanna and I like han's reflection moments.

(oh yes btw--it was raining HERE now...)

 

!Mas por favor!

 

:sits in seat with mouth wide open, eyes staring, shocked at the WONDERFUL posts: Awesome, KnightMara. Wow. Wow. Wow. That was *so* suspenseful! Thank you!

Wow.

Wow.

Wow...

 

Wow!
You really have me worried about Luke's condition. I love how Han is reacting to this, it really fits how he is in the movies.

More!

 

Whoohoo! Thanks for all the feedback guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to put up another post. I've finally taken a pro-active step in my life regarding my asthma, and unfortunately that means transferring to another school. So real life has now gotten that much more chaotic. But as Han Solo would say, "Hey, it's me!"

So here's more:



"Chewie, bring us out of hyperspace," Han called out to the copilot and first mate and he heard the proximity alarm sound from the engineering console. Knowing Chewie had either heard him or the alarm, Han turned back to the young man on the bunk in front of him. Luke was still at the moment, having been mumbling incoherently only a few minutes earlier. For nine hours, the young rebel's condition had steadily deteriorated, and Han could only hope that the medics at the Rebel base on Krall could do something to help him. After all, surely they would know more about bringing down a seemingly relentless fever than he did.

Draping a cool, damp cloth over Luke's forehead, Han rose from his seat. Muscles that had tensed in frustration groaned in protest. "I'll be back, kid. Soon as I talk to that princess of yours." He headed out of the cabin, more than just a little bit eager to get Leia Organa on the comm. Chewie's earlier warning that the Rebellion may be wary about letting a deathly ill passenger land without knowing the cause of the illness had him nervous. The kid's only chance rested with that uppity princess who seemed to be almost as devoted to Luke as he was to her. If he played his cards right, her Worshipfulness would be the key to getting Luke the attention he needed.

And he needed it soon.

Upon entering the cockpit, he slumped into his seat with relief at the sight of the planet that hovered in front of them. "Punch me through to them, Chewie."

In a flurry of motion, Chewie had activated the comm and was transmitting to the Rebel base.

"Delta One, this is the Falcon," Han spoke loud and clear. "Do you read?"

"Copy, Falcon," a voice on the comm replied seconds later. Han smiled at the swiftness of their response. These Rebels were vigilant. "Having fun yet, Solo?"

Han raised an eyebrow as he recognized the voice. "Wedge, what the--" He laughed. "Who stationed you in the command center, kid?"

Han heard the young man laugh. The kid was another hero of Yavin, and nearly as idealistic as Luke was. Quite a pilot, though. His youthful voice squeaked as he spoke. "Hey, we've kinda' gone to hell in a landspeeder down here! We're handling fifty tasks at once. Come on down and join the chaos!"

"Had enough chaos up here, pal," Han quipped. "Just tell me where to land my ship and have a medical team standing by."

There was a pause on the other end. "We're kinda' short on medics right now. Is it serious?"

Han frowned. Trust things to be difficult in an emergency. "Pretty serious, kid. I've got a very sick Skywalker on board."

There was another pause. Han looked to Chewie as the silence drew on, hoping that what was going on down on the planet's surface wasn?t what he feared it was.

"You still there, Wedge?" Han pressed when there was no reply, a feeling of dread creeping over him.

When a response finally came, it was in a different voice. "Solo, this is General Reikan. What's the situation?"

Han fought back the tension that was gathering in his neck and the tightness that had crept into his stomach. Reikan had taken over? This wasn't good. "General, I have a passenger who desperately needs medical attention. He's been feverish for nine hours and is having difficulty breathing as well."

Silence followed, during which Han began to legitimately worry that Chewie might have been right after all. He waited with forced patience, drumming his fingers on the console as the seconds stretched by. If they didn't land, Luke was as good as dead. Especially if they didn't land soon.

"Solo," Reikan's voice came back over the comm. "Maintain your orbit."

"What?!" Han cried, his voice f