When Luke woke in the morning, he was determined to continue as though yesterday's meeting hadn't shaken him. He glanced at the chrono, and, seeing that it was still only four, grabbed the fruit Biggs had brought him, stringing his mother's necklace around his neck and clipping his father's saber to his belt. He dropped silently to the floor, slipping out the door and into the hall.
Immediately, the sound speaking voices rang out to him, and he followed them to their source. He stepped into a cavernous room, and felt his heart lift considerably. It was a hanger, and rebel technicians were running back and forth among the star starfighters that towered over them, calling instructions to one another. He took one more step inside, and one of them ran right into him, knocking the parts from his hands. Luke immediately helped him gather them up again.
"Sorry!"
The rebel shrugged, "It's fine. Happens all the time. Got a few minutes?"
"I've got until seven," Luke answered, "I haven't got my assignment yet."
"Great," he said, "I'm Sven. I'm working on that ship over there," he indicated a distant starfighter, "They've told me it's beyond help," he grinned at Luke, "I've always hated being told what I can't do."
Luke grinned back, feeling more at home already, having found a friend, "What's wrong with it?" he asked, and Sven started to lead him over to it.
"Just about everything you can think of," he said, dropping his crate of supplies and dropping down to a panel that had been tugged off of it, rummaging around before tugging out a dead rat, "Been in a junkyard longer than we've been alive."
Luke looked at the dead rat in surprise, but Sven just gave it a practiced toss, and it landed squarely in a nearby garbage receptacle, "You any good with a hydrospanner?"
"Pretty good," Luke answered, kneeling down and looking into the hole, "How many rats would you say are in it?"
"Let's just say the upholstery is beyond help," Sven answered cheerfully, "Not squeamish, are you?"
"Uh…" Luke paused, "A little bit."
"Nothing like this to get you past that," Sven declared proudly.
As he started to help with the ship, Luke couldn't help agreeing. Once he'd become used to the assortment of dead creatures that had to be dragged out of it, he'd probably never be alarmed by anything again.
Before he knew it, a check of the time told him he was five minutes late for assignments.
"I'll put in a word for you as a mechanic," Sven offered.
"That'd be great," Luke said, scrambling to his feet and brushing off as much machine grime as he could.
Sven stood as well, "Come on, I'll show you where the assignments are given," he said, starting towards the door of the hanger.
Luke hurried after him, but he shouldn't have bothered. Assignments, it turned out, were given quite haphazardly, and a couple of words from Sven, and a glance at Luke's oil covered form later, he had been officially designated a mechanic.
"I kind of expected them to be a little more thorough than that," he admitted as Sven pushed him out the door.
Sven shrugged, "You're here, you've got a skill they need, why waste the time investigating you?"
Luke had to admit he had a point. He and Sven walked back to the hanger together, and Sven offhandedly tossed him a hydrospanner, "Back to work!"
"Yup," Luke sighed, catching the hydrospanner and settling back down to work, "Hey, Sven?"
"Yeah, Luke?" Sven asked, taking a grime covered rag and a machine, starting to try to siphon out whatever fuel might still have been left in the engine.
"Why'd you join the Alliance?" he asked casually.
Sven shrugged, "Beats sitting around watching them tear the galaxy apart."
"I guess," Luke answered, unbolting a panel, "Looks like the hyperdrive needs some work."
Sven just laughed, "What part of the junker doesn't need work?"
"True," Luke sat up, "I'm gonna go find some breakfast, you coming?"
"Why not?" Sven asked, wiping grime off onto his pant legs, "Better late than never."
Luke cast another glance into the workings of the hyperdrive, "I guess we'd better try to get some parts for her."
Sven waved a smeared hand at a massive pile of parts, "We'll go shopping later. They prefer it if we show up for meals at least recognizable."
Luke couldn't help seeing the wisdom in that, "Come on."
Sven jumped to his feet, and led Luke out of the hanger, exchanging a few greetings with other mechanics.
"I'm never going to get used to the layout of this place," Luke sighed, following him through one of the most convoluted systems of passageways he'd ever seen.
"You'll get used to it," Sven promised, opening a final door onto what looked like an oversized school cafeteria, rebels roaming about amongst the tables, a high ceiling far above the ordered rows of benches. A smell of nondescript food permeated the air, and Luke had an odd feeling of familiarity, even as he looked at the sea of strangers.
After a moment, he realized that Sven had quite a head start on him, and bolted after him, spotting his friends as he ran, "Hey, Sven? I'm gonna sit with those guys, if that's okay," he said, indicating the full table. Apparently they'd managed to forgive each other, although Sam and Tom were sitting notably separate.
Sven shrugged, "Wouldn't mind if I did too, would you?"
"No!" Luke exclaimed, "It'd be great!"
"Fantastic," Sven grinned, "I like meeting new arrivals," he added as they joined the line up to get food.
"How long have you been with the Alliance?" Luke asked curiously.
Sven shrugged as he stepped forward for his food and another tray of food was whisked out to him. A moment later, an identical plate of casserole had been thrust at Luke, and they were headed back towards Luke's friends.
Biggs and Sam shifted aside allowing space for Luke and Sven, who sat.
"Where've you been?" Biggs asked Luke around Sven, "And who's your friend?"
"I woke up early," Luke explained, starting to eat, "I thought I'd make myself useful, so I went to help in the hanger. This is Sven."
"Hey," Sven added, waving at Luke's friends, who introduced themselves.
"What positions did you guys get?" Luke asked.
"Pilot," Biggs answered, shovelling food into his mouth.
"Me too," Sam smiled proudly.
"And me," Percy added, "Shell's gonna be working in tactics," he added.
After a moment of silence, Luke looked up at Tom, "What about you?"
Tom winced visibly.
"Come on," Percy cajoled, "Tell Luke what your assignment was."
Tom kept his mouth decidedly closed.
"Meet the Alliance's newest interpreter," Sam said laughingly.
Tom blanched, then turned scarlet red. Percy and Biggs howled with laughter, and Shell gave a nervous giggle. Sam grinned at the chaos her information and wrought, and Luke couldn't help grinning, "An interpreter?" he asked.
"That's right," Tom said quickly, "What about you?"
"Most promising mechanic I've seen in a while," Sven declared proudly.
The rest of breakfast passed in a flurry of conversation, their capacity for each other's company hugely refuelled by their time apart. By the time their meal was over, they had shared their new understandings of their positions, Sven filling in many of the blanks, and as they were standing to leave, a rebel came to tell them that their ship had been recovered, and they could go down to pick up their belongings. All in all, their descent to the functional hanger was a cheerful one, and Luke began to feel more sure of his choice to join them.