Disclaimer: I am not Annie Proulx nor George Lucas. I mad eno money by writing this, but I did have an aweful lot of fun.
A New Hope
Pair of deuces going nowhere. Ennis del Mar rubbed his weary eyes over the game of sabacc, not willing to put his meager earnings into the pot, but more than willing to watch other stormtroopers whittle away theirs. There wasn't any other entertainment in this godforsaken base on Ploo II of all places. If you could call watching a bunch of uneducated troops pretending to play sabacc entertainment.
Ennis swirled his glass of some sour-tasting liquid that passed for alcohol among the Glymphids, and was just about to rise from his chair and find some sort of better alcohol when Governor Trejo Thsal of Ploo slid in the door of the dark barroom. Everyone froze, struck. "You," she pointed to Ennis, no nonsense in her voice, ever, "and, uh, you." She pointed at a young trooper, the only sabacc player here who seemed to know shit about sabacc as far as Ennis could tell, and with a smile that could fool the saber off a Jedi. The smile started sliding off the stranger's face. He and Ennis stood.
"ID's?"
"742209 ma'am," Ennis muttered, throat hard with fear.
"Uh," he cleared his throat, "uh 342833," the other trooper said, smile still in the process of sliding to the floor, like it'd take a year. Ennis blushed realizing he was even noticing such a thing.
"Names?"
"del Mar."
"Jack Twist."
"Alright, you two, come with me."
She was a tall, lanky woman, with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her imperial blacks clung tightly, and anyone with an eye for such a thing could tell she'd had a child from the bearing of her hips. Ennis remembered his own mother and was glad the woman'd been a sight nicer n' Thsal.
"You too are both from Tatooine, that correct?"
The two men exchanged glances. They were both from Tatooine? Ennis hadn't been aware there'd been any other Tatooinian at Ploo. "I am, ma'am," he responded.
"Yes, ma'am," Jack Twist said. Ennis ducked his head in disbelief.
They arrived at her stark office on the station. Ennis had to wonder what godawful thing she'd done in her service career to become Imperial Governor to Ploo, though an Imperial Governor was an Imperial Governor, no matter what planet they were at. She motioned them in, but neither sat, both standing at attention before her desk, still in civvies-- blue flightsuits. Twist had a leather vest on over his.
"Seems we have a droid problem on Tatooine. The Empire wants to send you two."
Ennis wanted to object. Ploo was awful far away from the Arkanis sector, but he didn't dare open his mouth, and he guessed the "droid problem" must be a big one, or else there wasn't no sense in sending a couple of low-rank troops.
"Alright," Twist said, "when we leavin'... ma'am?"
"Immediately. Pack you stuff and meet me in the shuttleport in fifteen in uniform."
Ennis hissed beneath his breath, and soon he and Twist were running through the corridors, side by side, to the trooper's quarters.
They met again at the station shuttleport, duffels in hand. They got there before Thsal, and Twist had just enough time to put out his hand.
"Jack Twist."
"Ennis."
"Ennis del Mar? 's That right? Shoulda recognized your accent before. Where'bouts on Tatooine you from?"
"Mos Eisley."
"No kiddin'? Motesta, myself."
At least that explained why they never knew each other was around; they came from damn near different sides of the planet
"Hear some interestin' things 'bout Mos Eisley."
"Yup."
Thsal showed up just long enough to take them over to a drop shuttle. A whole entire drop shuttle for the two men, and about six days to Tatooine in the slow ship. Ennis could stand it, he reckoned, and he climbed on in.
The first day went without much event. They took turns at the helm, one sleeping while the other was awake. Didn't talk much, drank, slept, ate, all in hyperspace. The first evening Jack produced some contraband beverage from his duffle, and Ennis partook hardily.
On the second day, already cracking open the second bottle of what Jack told Ennis was lomlin-ale, with thick green head on top, Jack turned keen blue eyes on Ennis.
"Last year, was on the Windserpent out by Yag-Dhul. We had us a droid problem. Bunch a old battle droids came ta life tried to take over the ship. Was a bitch of a situation. They was tying' to convince the ship we was the enemies." He laughed, a toothy smile, and passed the lomlin-ale. Ennis watched him carefully; didn't know what to expect from Jack. Jack continued. "Didn't like me no ship duty. That Ploo crap is boring as all hell, but there's some plus side to boring. Commander Krez-- on the Windserpent? Couldn't please him no way. Makes Thsal look like a pussy cat." A pause. "You ever pull ship duty? Star destroyers or somethin'?"
Ennis shook his head. "No'm... I just came on at Ploo after station duty at Aquaris."
"Aquaris? No kiddin'. Don't move much, do you? Why'd you join the service? You seem like a moisture farmin' type. No offense intended."
"I, uh, well my parents was killed... by sand people. Brother and sister raised me mostly, but my sister, she got married. My brother found some work for a moisture farmer out by Anchorhead, and no room for me no more. 'S how come I end up here."
"Shit... that's hard. Whell, my parents, they own a moisture farm out in Motesta. God awful place. Nothin' but sand for 'bout as far as you can even take a speeder. Done anythin' I could to get away from there."
Ennis nodded, even let a smile creep cross his lips. "Don't think there's anywhere on Tatooine don't got sand."
"Sarlacc's pit's where." Jack laughed. "Coulda got me a city job, but," he shrugged, "only ones was for the Hutts... You ever work for the Hutts? I took a job with them one summer."
"No, my daddy says anyone works for the Hutts is fuck-ups."
Jack eyed him a moment, the soft humming of the ship underfoot. "The hell they are." His gaze held Ennis's a second before he burst to his feet, wiggling like a Corellian windfish, started yelling, "Look at me, I'm one a those fat dancers the Hutts keep 'round. See me twirlin' my lekku, gotta show some leg, woo-ee!" Jack backed a little too far, hit one of the console chairs, and went rolling onto the floor, dizzy laughter pressing out between his warm lips.
Ennis found himself laughing just about as hard as he ever had, imagining Jack as a Twi'lek dancer in Jabba's Palace. "Think my dad was right," he pressed out between guffaws. They sat up too long, all day for Ennis, all night for Jack, ignoring the hum of the ship and the buzz of the alcohol, lost instead in the baritones of each other's voices.
Twelve hours later, morning for Jack, night for Ennis, brought raging hangovers and a frantic check of the ship's systems. The drinking night had accidentally put them on the same schedule, and since they were going nowhere fast, quite literally, though hyperspace, it didn't much matter. They sat and talked about their families, about jobs they'd had, hunting accidents involving all manner of Tatooinian creatures, near run-ins with sand people, dealings with Jawas. Jack wanted to hear everything there was about Mos Eisley, and Ennis was willing to tell him. They both thought they'd never had a better time than this damned shuttle trip, and more than once Ennis wished they'd get stranded a while before arriving back at the sand pit of a planet they'd both been trying to escape by joining the Imperial Navy. Now they were returning under the watchful eye of one of the Empire's most feared officers, General Tarkin.
"Gotta tell you, friend, Tarkin got no right a make us do this. Makes no sense to go from Ploo to Tatooine. They want people from Tatooine, they got a whole fuckin' planet-full right under their feet." Jack laughed, lomlin-flavored chuckles, and Ennis found himself sliding closer.
"Yup. 'S right. Don't got no choice though."
"Fuck Tarkin. We oughta just take this drop shuttle, an.."
"An' what, Jack?"
"Well," Jack lowered his voice, "you hear 'bout them rebels, don't like the Empire?"
Ennis made a face, but had to lean closer, right up next to Jack to hear him. Their shoulders brushed.
"Hear they're growin'. Probably take a couple ex-troopers. Or hell, we could run spice."
"I ain't interested in landin' in no spice mine, neither way."
Jack just shrugged. Third and fourth bottles of lomlin-ale later, they passed out on the floor, one right on top of the other.
Jack awoke first, felt Ennis's warm pressed all up his back side, an intoxication and smell not unlike spice, and reached over himself to the large hand where it rested near his thigh. He grabbed it up, placed it over his hardening cock.
Ennis jumped like he'd been bitten by a varpool. "What the fuck you doin'?"
Jack just leaned close 'til he had Ennis pinned up against a blukhead, grabbed the man's face, held him tight, and then started to undo his own two-day-old, stinking uniform pants. Ennis didn't take long to get the clue, though, and soon his own uniform was around his hips. He flipped Jack over, strong hands on hips, and not having anything but spit, pushed into Jack's hot, tight darkness. Nothing he'd done before, but no instruction book needed. Feeling that man gasping underneath him, Ennis gasped hard himself, coming in a blinding panic into Jack. Then unconsciousness took him, and he lay where he fell. Neither of them had used their bunks in two days. No need with the wide open floor and the comfort of a friend.
When Jack woke the next day, Ennis was minding the comlink with a singular purpose. Jack rose from the floor, pulling up his pants.
"Got a message," Ennis said, voice quiet, over his shoulder.
"oh yeah?"
"Tarkin. Says a ship just took off. They think it has those droids."
"Well, we're still days outta Tatooine."
"Yup."
"Now what?"
"We're still to report as ordered."
"Alright," Jack shrugged, wondering what this trip was really all about.
Silence stretched on between them. Ennis spoke first. "This is a one-shot thing we got goin' on here."
"...Nobody's business but ours."
"I ain't queer."
"Me neither." And that was that.
They had more rations for supper, Jack grumbling over them as he had been for days. They were out of alcohol, which only made Jack moodier. Still, when bedtime came, still on the same schedule, Jack made no move to sleep on his bunk. Ennis didn't either. They dimmed the lights and both hearts beat one-two-three, before Ennis leaned over slow.
"I'm sorry," he breathed so close to Jack he could taste the man's breath.
"It's alright," he said, rising to lean into Ennis. A moment's hesitation and they came together, warm lips on warm lips, and both knew how it was going to go for the rest of the trip through hyperspace. And so it went, ship be damned.
By the time they arrived at Tatooine, there wasn't any part of the ship they hadn't used as a home base for their own purposes, laughing and bucking, talking little, but touching often. Ennis's smile became a frequent visitor. Jack's stories got more elaborate with the lack of alcohol. Jack even tried to boil down the ration bars into a gruel, which had made them less edible, not more.
They loaded their duffels and landed in the bay of a Star Destroyer. Apparently Tarkin and his ship didn't wait around for the two moisture farmer's sons, but the Glory had in his stead. Corporal Faarin met them, both men back in crisp uniforms after two days barely clothed. Neither realized how the shuttle stunk of spunk and sweat until they tasted clean air again, and worry started in Ennis's stomach. Did the other men know that smell?
Faarin didn't take them to see anyone, just told them the "droid problem" had been solved afterall. Something in his voice said he was lying, and Ennis still thought the whole mission was a mistake. Faarin said they had new orders, though. Ennis was to take the shuttle back to Ploo. Jack was to be stationed on the Eleemosynary under Krez-- Jack's old captain, but a new ship. Ennis knew Jack thought Krez was a "stud duck ass of a man", but even that knowledge didn't fully explain the cold feeling rising from his stomach to wrap around his heart.
They spent that night getting about as drunk as they could on just about anything illegal Jack could bribe the Glory's cook out of, using sabacc money. They were in a small, private room, only meant to sleep one, assigned to them both, just for a day while their shuttle was restocked with the damn ration bars for Ennis. Glory was going to take Jack back to Krez.
All the next morning, dressing, Ennis couldn't shake the feeling of starting on a headlong, irreversible fall, like the freefall training he'd hated, but more sickening. He hadn't ever laughed with anyone like he laughed with Jack. Now he was to return to the row behind a sabacc table, never playing, watching hand after hand flip past, and not even Jack's quick smile to light the table. The thought made him sick.
"What's wrong, friend?"
"This whole mission... Thsal gypped us out of two week's pay."
"Can spare ya a loan, bud, from my sabacc money."
"Don't need your money. Shit, I ain't in the poorhouse."
"Alright, then."
Ennis slipped back into silence. Jack once tried to place a gentle arm around him. It'd turned to a wrestle, Jack accidentally kneeing Ennis in the nose, blood over both their uniforms. Both changed. Ennis murmured a "see you around" before he left the room. He thought maybe he and Jack would see each other on Tatooine someday, but doubted it. Might be mostly sand, but still a big, full planet. He stopped somewhere in a hall alcove to try and throw up, feeling somehow like his guts were being pulled out end-over-end, but nothing came up.
Ennis was already walking like a prisoner up the ramp of the drop shuttle when the alarms started to screech. An announcement rang something about the rebellion forces, and the bay cleared like lightening, men scrambling to the TIEs. Ennis was running up the plank to get in before the bay doors dropped, exposing him to vacuum (though he was wondering if he much cared one way or another) when he saw Jack come running across the tiled floor, unnoticed in the flurry of action, duffel hanging over his shoulder.
Jack didn't hesitate, but ran up the ramp into the shuttle, bringing the ramp up behind them. He threw a blaster to Ennis-- not one of the ones they were issued, but a heavy repeating blaster, and Ennis was wanting to ask here he got it, but said, "What the fuck you doin'?" instead.
Jack shot him that smile, all eye-teeth and mischief. "Defectin', dumbass. With you." Jack didn't wait for an answer, but was already starting the thrust engines. Ennis wanted to punch the crazy man, images of Kessel floating through his head, and worse, but Jack was already taking them out of the hangar bay and into the deep black of open space, and Ennis found he could breathe once again. Rebels were probably fuck-ups, too, he thought, but couldn't be no worse than the lonely days ahead at Ploo. Without hardly letting himself think on it too much, Ennis sat down in the copilot's seat. "On your left, there's your rebel cruiser. Looks Mon Cal."
"Roger," Jack was all grins.
"Twist, you got somethin' wrong in the head."
"Maybe so, but I ain't gonna suffer it with Krez on the Eleemosynary, friend. I hear these rebels got aliens in their fleet. You think they take queers, too?"
"I told you, I ain't queer." His voice was threatening.
"Well maybe I am," Jack retorted, "and I bet those sons of bitches pay good money for a Imperial drop shuttle, too. Wooee." Jack leaned over into the com. "Rebel ship, this is Imperial Drop Shuttle Alpha Romeo Seven from the Ploo System. Request permission to come on board."
A moment passed before a wavering voice, clearly Mon Cal from the timbre, responded. "This is Admiral Ackbar aboard the Home One. Confirm defection, Alpha Romeo Seven, and please give me crew compliment."
"Jus' two ex-Imperial queers lookin' for a nice place ta stay, Home One."
"I ain't queer," Ennis mumbled, increasingly of the opinion that he was not being heard.
Silence on the other end for a moment, and then Jack clearly saw the hangar bay doors begin to inch open. "Welcome home, boys," Ackbar said.
Ennis thought the smile on Jack's face just might be worth being taken for a queer. Jack thought maybe the Rebel Alliance had something better'n ration bars to eat. They both thought they had never been freer in their lives. "Sonofabitch" was all Jack could hiss as he vectored towards the hangar bay and home.