Title: A Good Thing
Fandom: Star Wars
Summary: Wedge is cooking on Hoth. 3 ABY.
A/N: Written for the Fic-A-Thon 2009 at the LJ com wraithsquadron. The prompts were: "Lomin Ale" "Obligation" and "Backfire."
The fic is inspired by a conversation Wedge and Tycho had in the EU book "The Bacta War". Thanks to Emmithar for the beta!
A Good Thing
His feet sank deep into the powdery snow, cushioning the jump from the back of his tauntaun, until they found firm ground in the solid, frozen layer of ice that covered most of the inhospitable planet. A cutting wind intermingling with snow hit Wedge and he shivered despite being wrapped up in thick clothes that were mandatory if one wanted to survive even a few minutes in Hoth's climate.
He stepped forward quickly, knowing that neither he nor his tauntaun should stay standing still for longer than necessary. He pulled the animal along with him, moving towards the form he had spotted through the pair of goggles that protected his face from the icy cold.
Being on patrol in the terrain surrounding Echo Base held responsibilities, and Wedge needed to find out what it was that he had seen. As he came closer, he recognized it as a perished tauntaun. The storm had already piled up snow around the carcass.
Wedge was about to remount his tauntaun and move on, but another look made him realize that the dead animal was frozen solid, as was to be expected in this weather. The carcass probably had had no time to decay even slightly before the weather had made sure that it stayed fresh.
Wedge didn't hesitate any longer. He had an idea that lit inside of him, as stupid as it might be. Months and months of bitter coldness on this desolate world, often lacking anything but the barest means of survival, had made him long for times when he could sit with friends in a cozy corner during his down time, enjoying a Lomin Ale or some Correlian whiskey.
Sure, despite the circumstances, despite the war, there were still moments when they could try to relax, Wedge mused, as he stood next to the dead tauntaun. But those times consisted, at the most, of playing sabacc while chewing tasteless energy bars that were supposed to give them the necessary nutrition or swallowing any kind of drink someone had managed to smuggle on the planet. Wedge longed for a change.
As he pulled out his short blade and started to work on the carcass, he realized quickly that its frozen state not only stopped the decay, but also stopped him from achieving anything other than superficial scratches with his weapon. Wedge sighed, feeling his legs and feet already stiffening in the cold, while the living tauntaun next to him protested against being forced to stand still.
He looked up into the snowy white, seeing nothing else than this one colour that was dominating his life. He wasn't able to see any of the three moons that revolved around Hoth, nor the blue-white star that gave the system its name and the planet its light.
Wedge shock his head. This wasn't working and he could not keep standing here. He leaned down once more, trying to give the carcass a shove, his knees sinking in the snow now, but was confirmed in his suspicion that it was frozen to the ground. Disappointed, he stood and pulled his tauntaun to him, readying it to remount. Snow was clinging to his clothes and the storm kept raging over them.
It was at this moment that he heard a voice calling out to him, at first barely understandable through the winds. Once more his name was repeated before Wedge spotted the other rider in the distance, approaching him quickly.
"Are you alright?" Luke asked, as he came to a halt close to Wedge's riding animal.
"Yeah, I just stopped to check out the tauntaun here. I didn't know what it was until I was close."
Luke nodded. "You're coming along?"
"Yeah..." Wedge hesitated, feeling embarrassed both about his idea and his unwillingness to let it go.
Luke watched him and Wedge wondered if his friend could read his mind. He glanced at the lightsaber that was attached to the man's side.
"Would you mind if I borrow your lightsaber?" he asked quickly.
"What do you need it for?" Luke asked with a grin, already removing it from the belt of his winter clothes.
"I want to cut out some pieces of the tauntaun..." Wedge grabbed the offered lightsaber, realizing the same moment that it was the first time he held one of the legendary weapons in his hand. He found the switch that would let the blade emerge and turned to the carcass again, while Luke hopped from his own animal into the snow. He stepped closer to Wedge, watching him with what the Corellian assumed to be quiet amusement.
Wedge hit the switch and the blade shot out, its glaring blue light fitting well into the icy surroundings. Cutting into the frozen tauntaun was much easier now, the blade gliding through the meat almost without any effort. The carcass was frozen on the inside as well, which was what probably kept it from emitting the usual nasty odor that was typical for the animal. Wedge hastily cut out several pieces, Luke helping him to store his prize in the bag on his impatient tauntaun.
Finally the two men remounted and Wedge turned his animal into the direction of their base.
"I'm going for another round," Luke told him. "See you later. I hope I'm invited," he winked, before he hurried his tauntaun off.
Wedge urged his own forward and it complied all too readily, moving them quickly through the chilling winds. Soon they made it to the main entrance at the north of the base. The tauntaun accelerated its steps in accordance with Wedge's feelings who could not wait to get inside either. Every time he returned to the base from patrol he felt like his bones would never really warm up again and the chill did not really vanish when he was inside the base either.
Wedge dismounted and reported back quickly, before he carried away his baggage. Nobody asked what it was, but he knew that he would have to hurry, as the meat was going to start smelling soon, now that it would unfreeze.
Walking swiftly in search of his fellow Rogues, the bag slung over his shoulder, he removed his gloves and stared at his stiff fingers. As usual after patrol he was glad when he managed to make them move again after the cold had stiffened them. He wouldn't be the first one to suffer from frost-bite. At least they had enough bacta at hand to solve that problem, as long as you made it back to the base alive.
Guessing that he would find the Rogues at their X-wings which were always kept ready to depart immediately in case they had to evacuate the base, Wedge made his way to the hangar, and recognized several of his friends already from the distance.
He stopped at his own X-wing and saw his R2-unit coming up towards him, beeping excitedly. He didn't get the chance to listen to it though, as his attention was fully drawn to the man who was jogging over to him now.
It had been three years now since Tycho Celchu had defected from the Empire, soon after he had learned of the destruction of his home world Alderaan. To Wedge these three years felt more like three decades, as battle after battle, mission after mission, lined up in his memory. He often felt like he had been fighting the Empire his whole life and often wondered how long he would keep doing so, but he guessed it would be for the rest of his life.
During the years they had been fighting together, he and Tycho had become close friends and Wedge was glad about any friend that stuck around. He had seen them die too often. As another fellow Rogue, Wes Janson, would say, they had to live life as long as they could. This was also a thought that went along with what Wedge was planning now.
"Back from the cold, Wedge?" Tycho greeted him.
Wedge smiled. "They say it's a rather warm day."
Tycho laughed. "Yeah, I still remember when we had what was supposed to be summer." He pointed at Wedge's bag. "What do you have in there?"
"Tauntaun," Wedge replied matter-of-factly, showing Tycho the content. "I want to cook it."
Tycho looked curiously at the lump of the now slowly thawing meat. "Are you sure about that?"
Wedge walked on with a determined pace. "I want a proper meal. I want a real meal. I want meat."
The Alderaanian chuckled. "Sure, Wedge. We all do."
He moved to follow Wedge who had decided to look for the droid who was responsible for the provisions of Rogue Squadron and could help him prepare the tauntaun. By the time he had managed to find the droid and had pulled him to the kitchen, Wes Janson and Hobbie Klivian had joined Tycho. All three of them were watching Wedge now.
"Are you sure this isn't going to give us food poisoning?" Hobbie asked, as Wedge cut off left-over grayish fur from the meat lumps. Meanwhile, the droid prepared the huge stove that was normally used to cook beverages enough for several squadrons.
"You don't have to eat it," Wes told him with a grin.
"It's fresh meat," Wedge said with determination. "It was frozen when I found it."
"I think Hobbie meant eating tauntaun in general..." Tycho pointed out.
Wedge placed the lumps of meat in the frying pan with a satisfied smile. "If they can serve banta steak on Tatooine, we can eat tauntaun on Hoth."
"Sure, Wedge."
The colour of the meat had slowly changed to a light grey, before Luke and Dack Ralter joined them in watching Wedge's doing.
"How long is it going to take?" Dack asked.
Tycho shrugged. "Maybe we have still time for a round of sabacc."
"You're in a hurry to get a win in before Han is back?" Wes questioned.
"Where is he anyway?" Luke wanted to know, leaning against the thin wall that separated the room from the adjoining one.
Wedge poked the tauntaun meat with a stick. An unappetizing juice flowed out of it. "The last time I saw him he was having a discussion." Wedge turned around and saw Luke and Dack exchanging a knowing look.
"He wants to leave?" Wes took up a previous rumor. "With the food we're getting here, I would do so, too," he said with a gesture to the slowly frying tauntaun.
"Leia's trying to convince him to stay," Luke explained, while Wedge flipped the lumps of meat in the pan with a determined expression.
"I'd listen to her," Tycho winced.
"This is so going to backfire," Hobbie was sure.
"It's almost done," Wedge announced. He poked the meat lumps again, ignoring that the resulting juice didn't look or smell much better than earlier. He had no idea how it was going to taste, but he was determined to enjoy it.
"Grab a plate everybody," he told the assembled pilots.
"I'd rather..." Hobbie started.
"We're all going to try it," Luke decided.
"You might be out of a squadron soon," the other man grimaced.
Tycho was already carrying two plates and handed one to Wedge who put some of the tauntaun meat on it, while Tycho chose a smaller piece for himself. After Luke had taken his piece, the other pilots moved reluctantly to get some of the meal as well.
Wedge walked out into the corridor and sat down on one of the numerous boxes that were sitting around there. Tycho and Luke settled down next to him, the other Rogues following their example. Wedge cut off a small piece and tasted it, knowing that everybody was waiting to watch his reaction before they would try the meal themselves.
The taste reminded Wedge of all the drinks one swallowed just because one could find nothing better. It was hard to chew and Wedge got the impression that the tauntaun's typical smell seemed to flood into his nose. It wasn't a pleasant one.
He looked around in the corridor where other people were hurrying along, so that Wedge's view of the other Rogues was hindered from time to time. He smiled, and the pilots chose to interpret that as a sign that the food was edible and began eating as well. Wedge's thought had been another. Even though they were sitting with a barely chewable tauntaun meal in the cold, dimly lit corridor, wedged in between material and people, they had despite all their obligations a few moments that they could enjoy together.
"Tomorrow we're going to have roasted wampa," Wes joked, a suggestion that was followed by quick protests all around.
Wedge saw his friends poking at their food and grimacing, obviously enjoying the same taste experience he had. Smiling to himself, he swallowed his tauntaun stubbornly.