Playlist:

❶ "Rebellions Are Built on Hope"—Rogue One OST

⊘ Silence

❷ "Holmes and Elizabeth"—Young Sherlock Holmes OST

The sublight alarm blared in Naluma's ears. Startled, she snapped up and fell from the cot—flat on her face. With a groan, she pushed herself from the metal deck and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What is that blasted noise?"  Then everything came back to her—where she was, what had happened, Master Skywalker's injury. "Must be coming out of hyperspace."

After making up the bunk, she checked on Master Luke in the medbay. She detached the empty drip bag but left the catheter in his arm. He stirred a little in his sleep, his face masked in pain.

As she stroked his head, she murmured, "I'm sorry, Master, but no more pain meds. Med center needs your system clean. We're almost there. Hang in there." She sent out soothing thoughts through the Force.

She checked his vitals once more. His breathing was steady, and so were his pulse and blood pressure. She adjusted his covers and shook her head as the enormity of a future without him crashed down upon her.

Naluma took his hand in hers as she whispered, "Master, you must heal. Please ... I don't know how I could go on without you. I'm not ready to do this alone. I need you." She brushed his face with her hand before tightening the safety straps for landing.

Han set the Falcon down with astonishing finesse. Naluma did not even feel a bump when the landing gear made contact with the surface nor the transfer from artificial gravity to planet-side gravity. "Naluma, hop on a headset. Med center needs info."

She entered the cockpit and grabbed a headset. "Perfect landing, Captain. Didn't feel a thing."

"Told you I could do it. How's the kid?"

"Resting, but in pain." She tightened her jaw as he picked up a headset. "Jedi Padawan Naluma Fau requesting med center attention at Landing Bay ..."

Han said, "Fifteen."

"Fifteen. I have a human male approximately thirty years—"

Han interrupted. "Twenty four."

She glared at him and then corrected, "Excuse me, a human male, twenty four years old with a back injury. Would you like his vitals?"

"Please transmit. A transport crew is en route."

"Transmitting." She punched a few buttons on the communication station.

Before her transmission terminated, Chewie lowered the loading ramp and led the transport team aboard the freighter. The three-person team guided a hover stretcher to the medbay. 

She scrunched her eyes in worry. "Keep his back flat. There's no board under him."

A female med tech asked, "How are we supposed to do that?"

"Sorry, facilities were limited at the injury site. I can transfer him for you." The Padawan stepped forward.

"Be careful. Don't jostle his spine," the lead med tech said.

Naluma scowled at him as she lifted her hand and slowly lifted her master with the Force. The med techs' eyes widened as they watched the Padawan use the Force to levitate Master Skywalker to the stretcher.

Levitation at such a slow pace was arduous, but she could not risk one little movement to his spine. She smiled in relief when Luke settled on the hover stretcher with only a slight moan.

"Good job." The med tech attached equipment to monitor his vitals. "Meds?"

"Bag of saline four hours ago and a shot of Nyex for the pain. Nothing since."

"Where'd you get your training? Most people come in here hopped up on meds," he said with a professional appreciation.

"Military."

"Ah, that explains it."

❶ After Naluma had transferred Luke to the operating table in the med center, the staff escorted her to the waiting area to join Han and Chewbacca. The Wookiee paced, groaning and moaning and occasionally throwing his arms against the walls.

"What are they doing to him?" Han asked.

"Run some diagnostics and then make a decision. May have to operate if a nerve was damaged."

Chewie growled with a deep rumble. His dislike did not need translation.

"Not good. What's it mean ... I mean, is Luke going to be all right?"

"I don't know. The future is clouded right now. I'm not even that good at Force-sight, anyway." She wanted to get away from the questions she had no answers to.

"Can't you do some of that mumbo-jumbo Force stuff on him?"

The anger burst forth. "I tried. I couldn't find the break." She advanced on him, backing him against the wall. "What if I messed up? Paralyzed him?" The tension between the two built until she turned away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay. We're all on edge." Han sat down, putting his head in his hands. Chewie sat next to him and put his arm around his friend's shoulder and whined.

Naluma paced from one end of the waiting room to the other, her frustration growing with each length. She wished she could go for a run or hit something—hard. Forget the Force right now. There's no way to be at peace while Luke ... Oh, what am I going to do if he doesn't make it? How am I going to complete the training? I'm not ready for this, master. Please.

Her thoughts kept centering on Luke, and then the Force, and then him again. She tried to think about going on without him. I can't. These have been the best three months of my life. I'm not going to leave him. I don't care if he never walks again. She sighed, fighting to divorce her feelings, to obey the Jedi Mandate. Oh, why do I feel this way about him? I'm not supposed to feel this way. It's forbidden.

She paced a few more laps. Admit it, Naluma. You love him. And not the way a Jedi is supposed to love someone. She chewed on her knuckles. You should quit. You shouldn't be near him if you can't keep your feelings under control.

Her face contorted. But, how is the way I love him any different from compassion the code requires?

Han watched her face twist with some inner struggle. His face transformed from one of conflict to understanding. "You love him, don't you?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice and smoothed her reaction. "Of course, I love him. He's my master."

Chewie roared something that sounded like he did not believe her.

"No, it's more than that. Come on, admit it—you love him."

She took a deep breath before sitting next to him. "What if I do? I'm prohibited from doing anything about it—except leave him. And I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both," she whispered with tears in her eyes. She wrung her hands while she stared a her cuticles.

"You have got a problem, haven't you?" he asked. "Have you talked to Luke about it? I mean, does he know how you feel?"

"I wish he didn't." She gulped while wiping with the back of her hand the tear from her cheek. "But, yeah, he does."

"Look, I know Luke. He's a good guy. I think when he comes out of this, you two should talk."

She shook her head and sniffed back a tear. "If he comes out of this."

"When," he said. "He's come out of a lot worse than this before. He'll make it."

Crossing her arms and slouching back in the chair in sullenness, she glowered  at the pilot.

"Hey, he almost died on the Death Star a few months ago. He hasn't told me much. But whatever the Emperor did to him, well, it aged him. It also changed his perspective on life. When you do talk to him, I think you may be surprised."

Naluma shook her head and a sob escaped. "He'll send me away. I'd rather be near him—even if I must hide my feelings."

A human doctor with spiky, bright-blue hair, entered the waiting area. Dr. Anamordu said, "Captain Solo."

"How's Luke?" he asked.

"Master Skywalker is recovering. We were fortunate that we did not have to operate. Whoever kept him stabilized in the field saved his life," she said, reviewing the information on her datapad.

Han extended his hand to Naluma. "That was Padawan Fau here."

She did not care about some silly accolades. As she wiped her tears from her face, she asked the only question she cared about. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Yes, thanks to you. He cracked two vertebrae and damaged a disc. We have treated the affected muscles and straightened his spine, as well as injected some cartilage matrix into the damaged disc and fused the splintered pieces. Once we had realigned his spine, the pressure on his nerves receded. Thankfully, no paralysis."

Naluma stepped forward as a smile crossed her face. Thank the Force—he's going to be all right.

The doctor held up her hand in contradiction. "Long recovery ahead—weeks of physical therapy. However, he should be back to his normal self in a few months."

"Months?" Her face dropped.

"Yes. Bacta tank can't cure this one. And a bone knitter is contraindicated with the matrix we injected. It's just going to take time," the doctor said as she scrunched her nose.

Han asked, "When can we see him?"

"Right now, if you want. He's under heavy pain meds, so take what he says with a grain of salt."

⊘ The doctor led them down the hall to Luke's medchamber. "Master Skywalker," she said in a quiet voice, "you have visitors."

Luke turned his head, seeing Han first. "Han. Chewie." He looked around the room, confused. "Where's Leia?"

Han smiled at Luke. "Back on Hosnian. We're on Chazwa in the med center. Those pain meds must have you flying high, kid. You remember anything that happened?"

"Fuzzy images is all," Luke said as his eyes glazed. "I remember a battle ... and Leia in the medbay on the Falcon. It was just like Bespin—no, maybe it wasn't. I don't know."

Dr. Anamordu said, "Easy, Master Skywalker, it's the pain meds. Your memory will return in time. Give it a chance. Captain Solo, try not to upset him too much right now."

"Will do," Han said as he extended his arm toward the doctor to punctuate his words. Turning back to Luke, he said, "Hey, kid, I'm glad you're gonna make it. You had us scared for a moment there."

Chewie roared in agreement.

"Thanks to you." 

"That's three you owe me now, junior," Han teased as he tousled Luke's hair.

Han gazed back at Naluma hiding in the corner by the door. "Well, Chewie and me got some repairs to make to the Falcon. Hurry up with that healing, will you?"

"I will. Thanks, Han, Chewie," Luke said, grabbing Han's hand.

Chewie reached in and hugged him.

"Careful, Chewie, my back can't handle that right now."

❷ As Han and Chewie exited the room, Luke caught a movement in a dark corner near the door. "Naluma," he said with longing in his voice and wonder in his eyes. His heart monitor beeped more quickly as his heart rate and breathing increased.

She took an uncertain step toward Luke.

"It was you on the Falcon." He gazed at Naluma—her clothing soiled and torn, a couple of cuts on her legs, an bruise on her arm. He held his hand out to her, extending the intravenous tubing.

As soon as she was close enough, he took her hand, holding it tenderly. "Thank you." A sob caught in his throat.

As tears escaped her eye, he raised his hand to wipe it away. "Don't cry. I'm going to be fine."

She wiped the tears from her eyes with her other hand.

Luke took her hand again, gently pulling her close to him. He whispered in her ear, "You should have left me there. You almost got yourself killed."

"I couldn't leave you, Master. I ..." 

He read her thoughts leaking through her shields—the words she would not say, the words he longed to hear, the words that would destroy them.

"Naluma ..." he said as tears ran down both of their faces. He pulled her to his chest and held her there as they both cried. What have I done?

Did you know ...

● The electric shock that Luke endured on the Death Star nearly killed him. As it did with Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith, it physically aged him, too. So, while he may be twenty four, he actually looks like he's in his thirties.

● "What have I done?" is one of my favorite Easter Eggs. Luke's father said it a few times in the prequels.

Tell me what you think ...

● What is Luke thinking when he says "What have I done?"

● What is Naluma thinking when Luke says "What have I done?"