Taste of Destiny
"You'll never guess what's in the box." Han entered the common room carrying a black shipping crate with two silver locks on the top and bottom. It was a typical security box used to ship important yet small items throughout the galaxy. Something in that kind of container was most likely expensive and probably obtained through means best left to Luke's imagination.
"You've got the Emperor's soul?" Wedge called out from his place at the corner table, seated next to Luke. Janson was on Wedge's left, while Hobbie was on the other Corellian's right. Sitting in the center of the table were a group of haphazardly organized and very empty Zeitgeist Brew bottles. Downtime on Thila was a rare commodity, so a case of ale from the Corporate Sector seemed like a good way to indulge their downtime. Even Luke couldn't resist kicking back two bottles, although he nearly decided against it once he remembered the labels with the dancing letters that appeared once the caps were taken off.
"That never existed," Han snorted. "What's in here is definitely exists and just happens to be rare."
"The first bottle of Whyren's ever produced?" Hobbie asked between drinks of ale.
"Like I'd give any of you guys one sniff of that if I did have some." Then he glanced over at Luke. "Maybe just you, kid."
Luke shrugged. "It would be a waste of time. I'm not into the hard stuff."
Janson glared at him. "It's not just 'hard stuff'. It's the only Corellian whiskey that should be legal."
"Plus it's not fair to the rest of us to keep it to yourself, " Wedge added.
"It's not Corellian whiskey." Han sat down in the remaining empty seat across from the pilots.
"But it's definitely booze," Janson leaned forward to inspect whatever lay in the crate.
Han rapped his knuckles on top of the security case. "Something very intoxicating and very rare."
"Yes, expensive booze!" Hobbie exclaimed.
"You've had enough to drink," Luke joked.
"I'm just getting started," Hobbie retorted. "And I'm getting first swallow of whatever's in that case."
Han turned the crate around and opened it. "This stuff is called 'The Breath of Heaven'." He flipped the lid up to let the X-wing pilots view the contents. "It's some weird type of wine made by cloistered members of the Iziaka Order on Xaan Doro. Only twelve bottles a year are produced."
"So that makes us very lucky," Wedge declared.
Luke noticed two smoked brown glass bottles filled with rose-colored liquor dotted with golden bubbles within the black velvet interior of the security case. Something felt strange about the wine in those bottles, almost like they were…alive?
"Luck got me this little treasure during a three-day sabacc game on Lacace." Han pulled out a bottle. "The guy never did say how he got hold of these, but he probably won them the same way I did."
"I think you made out pretty good," Janson stated.
"Maybe so. If what the guy told me is true, anyone who drinks this stuff is supposed to have some kind of mystical experience."
"Like hallucinations?" Wedge asked.
Han shrugged. "Depends on the being. This stuff is made from Doroan rice, which is supposed to be infused with the Force…"
So the liquor did possess a unique living characteristic. A certain level of Force sensitivity managed to survive the fermentation process. Now Luke was curious to have a drink of this spiritual elixir, to see if he could make any connection with the Force within those bubbles of living something.
Han seemed to pick up on Luke's sudden urge, or he was just motivated by a sudden desire to make the pilots uncomfortable. "Everyone gets a drink instead of fighting over who gets the first taste."
"But there's only one glass," Hobbie replied.
"There are some plastene cups above your head, kid." Han pointed to a small cabinet above Luke's head. "That's how everybody gets a taste." Solo grinned. "After you're finished drinking, you have to tell everyone whatever you saw."
"What's that supposed to accomplish?" Luke stood up to get the cups. He was afraid to expose anything that might come from his unconscious due to the wine's influence. If he mentioned his conversations with Ben from beyond life Han and the others would think he was crazy.
"I'm curious to see if the side effect is just some kind of nonsense," Han responded.
"You really think anyone's gonna reveal they see purple dragons dancing around the room?" Wedge asked.
"Funny, I see a little green Rancor holding a zithar whenever I'm drunk," Hobbie said.
"Unfortunately I always see you guys," Janson retorted.
Luke sat back down at the table and placed the cups near the bottle of wine. "Are you going to join in your own challenge, Han?" He knew the Corellian had a preference for sarcasm that occasionally bordered on the harsh. Sometimes Luke wondered if Solo viewed him as some kind of idiot? Did he really expect Luke to reveal anything that might emanate from the Breath of Heaven? Would he make fun of Luke no matter if the young Jedi took one drink or refrained from letting any of the wine go down his throat?
Han shrugged. "I'm willing to go one round."
"What if you see something…" Hobbie wiggled his fingers "…spooky." Then he laughed in the style of a cheap horror villain.
"Unless you're talking about me seeing one of the many creditors I owe money to, then I don't usually see anything scary."
"Here comes Princess Leia," Wedge pointed toward the doorway.
"If Her Holiness was really coming this way, I would've already felt the chill." Han reached forward to grab the bottle of wine. "Enough talk, gentlemen. Either we do this or it goes untouched."
The pilots looked at each other, then nodded.
Han pulled the cork stopper from the bottle. He poured a little of the wine into the shot glass. "Get a cup and I'll give you all some," he told the others across the table. Then he filled the red plastene cups with some of the Breath of Heaven.
Hobbie grabbed a cup, followed by Wedge, Janson and finally Luke.
The next several minutes consisted of the men looking into their respective containers. Nobody wanted to be the first to take a drink and face possible humiliation.
Luke frowned. Was drinking a Force enriched wine somehow important to his destiny? It didn't seem likely. Yet who could predict what might prove useful in his learning process?
"Here goes nothing," he declared to Han, his fellow X-wing pilots, and the universe. He brought the cup to his lips, tilted his head back, swallowed the wine. The aspiring Jedi placed the now-empty cup on the table.
Han waited about one minute before he asked the inevitable question. "See anything yet?"
Luke was just about to reply when a sudden image came into his awareness. A slightly older version of him sat in a darkened room, wearing black…the room felt rather than appeared familiar…was it Ben's hut on Tatooine? He was engaged in the construction of a lightsaber…telekinetically. Every component of the saber hung in the air like a holofilm in pause mode until the saber was complete. The future version of Luke reached out with an invisible grasp to ignite the lightsaber and reveal the color of the blade: a shimmering, brilliant light green.
"Why are you staring off into hyperspace?" Han's voice pierced into Luke's mind. He took a deep breath, and returned back to the familiar drabness of the lounge on Thila.
"I just got a little dizzy for a minute," Luke replied.
"Did you see anything?" Janson asked.
Luke shrugged. "Nope."
Han narrowed his eyes. "You're lying, kid."
"No." The young man's gaze was steady against the Corellian's inquisition. "It just gave me a fuzzy head for a couple seconds. Now it's gone."
"That means it's okay to drink!" Hobbie declared. "My turn!" He gulped down his little bit of Heaven, soon followed by Janson, Wedge, and then, after two minutes of looking around the table, Han.
"Anybody got something to share?" Solo asked after yet another minute.
"It tasted like fizzy cough medicine," Janson replied.
"I'm disappointed," Hobbie said.
"I think the Empire's gonna build another Death Star," Wedge declared.
"Was that a vision?" Luke asked. He never detected any Force sensitivity in his fellow Battle of Yavin combatant.
"The Empire will probably be stupid enough to do something like that."
"So nobody's seen anything?" Han asked.
"You haven't made a report, Solo. What'd you see?" Hobbie inquired, leaning his elbows on the table.
"Nothing but a sudden headache," the Corellian replied. He glared down into the rosy fizz that remained in his glass. "So much for this making you see things."
"But at least you got something rare," Luke replied. Maybe this was another lesson on his road to becoming a Jedi: lying to preserve your image of sanity.