A/N: thanks to muffin97 for reminding me about this story, haha. and holy CRAP, thanks so much to all of you guys who've been reading this madness! I get so happy when I read your reviews and see your alerts. You guys are the best! I love writing cracky stuff like this - sometimes I just need a little prompting, haha.
I don't own Glee, but I am secretly George Lucas. I just write fanfiction because I want to be Ryan Murphy.
CHAPTER FOUR: THESE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN'
Kurt and Blaine sank to the ground of the tent without letting go of each others' hands. Puck snorted.
"Are y'all trying to prove that guys can get preggers?" He leaned back, chewing on a piece of grass.
Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
Puck seemed pleased to have everyone's attention. Finn cleared his throat uncomfortably and made a show of looking up at the sky. Kurt knew what was coming next. He followed Finn's gaze to the clouds overhead and tried not to blush.
"Well you're certainly eye-sexing enough over there." Puck shrugged his shoulders innocently. Blaine swallowed a splutter and turned beet-red.
"Leave the lover-boys alone, Puckerman," Santana sighed, sinking wearily to the ground on Kurt's other side. "Commander Uloy's coming to talk about this 'mission' we're supposed to take care of."
"Who is this Commander Uloy anyway?" Finn grumbled. "He's totally not in the movies."
Kurt glanced up as Blaine gave his hand a squeeze. "You okay?" his boyfriend asked softly. "You've been really quiet all morning."
Kurt rolled his shoulders as if trying to loosen them. "Yeah, I guess. I just had really weird dreams last night." A shiver ran through him.
"I did too," Santana admitted from his left. "They were…weird. Super realistic, but weird."
Blaine shrugged. "We're in a really bizarre situation – I'm sure we're all having crazy dreams." Regardless, he began to rub his thumb in comforting circles on the back of Kurt's wrist.
"Did you?" Puck's tone was almost accusatory.
"I was flying an airship-thing, sort of like the Millennium Falcon," Blaine replied a little sheepishly. "But it's totally relevant."
"I was walking through a forest with a blaster." Finn shifted from his position across the tent. "That wasn't all that weird…but I swear when I woke up, I could smell the trees." He rubbed his shins thoughtfully. "And I can totally still feel where I tripped over things."
Kurt remained uncharacteristically silent. Blaine was on the verge of leaning over and gently nudging his worries out of him when Commander Uloy entered the tent in a thunderous flapping of fabric.
"Did you all sleep?" He spoke brusquely, cradling his helmet under his arm. The query should have been touching. Instead Kurt felt a little bit like a piece of machinery being prepped for sale.
The teens stared back at him. Uloy took their silence as agreement. He shifted his weight, looking around the tent a little awkwardly. "Right then," he cleared his throat. "I have orders from Master Yoda to take you all out for training, effective immediately."
Finn and Puck exchanged a look of confusion. "Training for what?" Finn started, while Puck said, "Dude, we don't know how to do anything."
Uloy ran his fingers through his dark hair as he looked between the two boys. "Preparation for your mission," he replied, as if the boys had just asked him if grass was green.
"We told you, we don't have any special skills," Santana snapped. "Except, like, singing and being gay."
Blaine shot her a warning glance. "What we're trying to say, sir, is that we're not quite sure what you want us to do. And we're not Jedi," he finished a little lamely.
Uloy shot him a Look. With a capital 'L.' "Master Yoda has informed me that all our needs will be met." His eyes were unreadable. "Please come with me." He stepped aside to hold the tent flap open.
"Why do I feel like that wasn't a request?" Blaine breathed to Santana, who rolled her eyes almost audibly.
"Hey."
Kurt snapped out of his daze as a soft voice caught his attention. He spun, half-expecting Blaine to be tagging along on his heels again, but his boyfriend was giggling over something with Santana. He's such a girl, Kurt thought fondly, before tracking the voice to Finn.
"Is everything all right?" Finn matched his stride to Kurt's as the little group made their way to the "training facilities" – a large field a couple hundred paces from the camp.
Kurt let out a partially-undignified snort. "Yes, why?"
Finn shifted awkwardly. "I dunno, you just, uh, seem kinda quiet, is all."
Really, Kurt? Now Finn Hudson is noticing that you're out of sorts? Way to be obvious. "I'm fine, Finn, just tired," he replied, brushing off Finn's concern.
Finn looked relieved. "Oh, okay. Good." But Kurt knew he wasn't totally fooled as he fell back to talk with Puck.
Kurt sighed and let his gaze drop to the ground beneath his feet. His boots crunched over withered patches of grass turned brown by the sun. The earth was parched – Kurt could feel it wheezing under his feet. He licked his lips, suddenly startlingly dry. Kurt shook himself as another shiver ran down his back. What was wrong with him?
He could feel everything around him, from the grass whisking against his heels to the buzzard-like birds wheeling high above and out of sight. Kurt had been feeling a little off ever since they had landed in this godforsaken galaxy far-far-away, and it had only intensified after his dreams the night before.
Kurt had never dreamed about being vapor before. That was way too cheesy and poetic – and not in the least fashionable – and besides, his dreams were either fantasies or nightmares. There was rarely anything in between. But he had spent what felt like decades soaring around as something undefined and open, something that bled a little into everything he touched.
Kurt had woken up feeling slightly nauseous. What was even more alarming was the fact that the sense of "open-ness" hadn't vanished with his dreams. It was like someone had erased some invisible line separating him from the rest of the world, allowing some sort of…exchange. And that's all Kurt could think of to describe it.
"You want me to do…what?" Blaine stared in horror at the aircraft on the ground in front of him. His instructor, a balding man named Ethrin, rolled his eyes.
"I want you to mow the grass with it. No, what do you think I want you to do?" He snapped. "Get in the goddamned cockpit and fly it."
"But…Mr. Ethrin, sir, I really can't - " Blaine started, lowering his gaze politely.
"Don't tell me a standard V-wing isn't good enough for you," the man groused.
"No, it's just - " Blaine bit his lip and broke off, letting his gaze wander around the training fields. He and his friends had been split up immediately upon arrival, and he hadn't seen them since. "Well, for starters, I don't really have a pilot's license."
Ethrin made a low growling sound and gnashed his teeth together. "Come on, sissy boy, we haven't got all day."
The taunt was no different from any of the others, but it hit a nerve in Blaine. His jaw clenched. "Fine then," he replied, uncharacteristically short, and snatched the helmet from the aged pilot.
Santana let out a frustrated huff and pushed back the limp strings of her sweaty hair for what had to be the twentieth time. "Are you just going to stand there?" She demanded, breathing hard. Lieutenant Judd raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
"That was my plan." The twenty-something foot soldier leaned into his hip and examined his nails.
Santana snorted. "You look like Hummel. Ten to one you're gay as a fruitcake as well, huh?"
Judd just looked at her, his pale blue eyes blank and disinterested. Santana growled and pivoted on her heel to storm away. At the very last minute she spun and launched herself at Judd like a wild animal.
The gangly lieutenant waited until she was hanging from his shoulder. His hand came down faster than anything Santana had ever seen; she fell away with a yelp as he delivered a stinging blow to her collarbone, then the back of her neck. Santana lay panting on the ground, immobilized, as Judd stuck his infuriating face into her line of vision.
"Nope," he said, and walked away.
Puck looked at her and laughed. Colonel Aubrey gave him a look that could have curdled milk.
"It's good to know that babes like you exist in galaxies far, far away," Puck crooned, his lips curling up in what looked more like a leer than anything.
"Yeah, whatever. Let's see if you can fight with anything besides your manhood." Aubrey rolled her eyes. Puck just snorted.
"All right lady luck, come at me." He winked obscenely, and the next thing he knew he was on the ground. Aubrey placed her heel on his chest and smirked down at him in a look eerily reminiscent of Santana.
"Wanna try that again, lover boy? I'll go easier on you this time."
a/n2: So...where's Kurt? How's Finn handling the pressure? FIND OUT NEXT WEEK. because seriously it is my goal to get a chapter up every week, at least until finals and stuff.
come find me on tumblr! my url is butterflyklisses, and my ask is always open for craziness.
ALSO. GLEE TUESDAY.
JUST IN CASE YOU FORGOT
WHICH I TOTALLY DIDN'T
BECAUSE MY FUTURE GIRLFRIEND AND I ARE HAVING A PARTY
CROSS YOUR FINGERS THAT WE FALL DEEPLY IN LOVE
