WARNINGS for the hard truth, alcohol/drug use, M/M flirting, and a reckless Luke. It's personal.
OooOoo
His old clothes were so boring. Luke sighed as he sifted through them. Inconspicuous...why did he need to be?
The door banged open and he jumped up, but it was only Jovay again. "What now?"
The man took off his cap and laid it on the table. He shook his head.
Somehow that made Luke unreasonably nervous. "My dad won't talk to me," he blurted. "In my head. He's angry about...you know...how I ruined his plans. But I couldn't let everyone here die! What if he never speaks—"
"Stop. Just stop." Jovay swiped across his face with one hand, then ran it through his hair. "Listen to what you're saying."
Sorting through his words, his thoughts, Luke said: "You mean about the Death Star? I did the right thing—"
The captain held up both hands to prevent an outpouring of defense. "When I said you're like him... that you do what you think is right, I meant... Oh, damn."
"What's wrong?"
Fists clenched and unclenched. "My mandate is so protect you. Physically. But..." Jovay hesitated. "I can't keep my mouth shut. That's always been my problem." His gaze turned distant for a moment before turning back to Luke. "The people here, on the base...why are they here?"
"What do you mean?" Luke moved closer. "They're the Alliance. The Rebels. They're fighting to return peace and freedom to the galaxy."
Jovay laughed without humor. "The party line."
"They are!"
"Would they sacrifice their lives for that goal?"
"Yes! So would I!"
"You don't get it." Jovay shook his head. "You and your father...you're both so damn self-serving. Always doing what you want, pretending—even believing—it's for the greater good of the galaxy. But it's always personal."
"That's not true," Luke denied heatedly. "We saved everyone here on the planet...but the Death Star, that was—that was—they would have been sacrificed one way or another."
How many? someone asked.
"You sure about that?" Jovay looked at the floor, then back up at him. "You chose to save your friends—who were willing to sacrifice themselves if it meant eliminating Palpatine and the Empire. And your father saved you instead of the Death Star that would have eventually accomplished that end. Same thing, the very same thing. Both of you. Your personal wants take priority over the needs of hundreds of billions of beings who are ruled and enslaved by the Empire."
Luke stared at him, struggling to understand... but there should be no struggle. It was so easy to see. Why had he never seen it? Why had his father never seen it? "I...that's not true."
"Think about it. Really think and you'll see it's always personal with you. And with him. You two like to believe you're working for a greater goal, that you have such special destinies, that no one else will understand or appreciate you and what you do, but your entire lives have been centered—"
"That's enough," he said quietly. "Get out. Go. Just...go. You don't know anything about us."
"I know what you don't want to know." The cap was picked up, rotated in nervous hands. "If you still want to leave—"
"Please. Go. I need...time."
"Very well. I'll return after I talk to Command and find out what they're doing. But Luke...think. It's not too late to change the course of your life. And maybe, just maybe...your father's."
In a moment he was alone again. He should think...but he was supposed to get dressed too. Couldn't do both. Be inconspicuous. Be...
He could be Oz again.
It was so easy. Slip into the old clothes, slip into his old self. Don't think.
But this time Oz was tired and angry and confused. He'd lost his father— no, he'd thrown away his dad by choosing the Alliance over the man who would've stood by him, loved him—
It's always personal with you.
No. Don't think, not yet.
The Alliance didn't give a damn about him. They wanted him erased?!
What did he do to deserve that?
...personal...
No. Not thinking about that now, too much.
He didn't have the Rillavin's boots any longer, but everything else made him into a rainbow of red, purple, blue, gold, green. If he only had face paint and hair color. His reflection in the mirror was a shock. He looked like a child playing dress up, but...if it was Oz they wanted, then Oz they would have. Jovay wouldn't be pleased, but Oz was Oz.
Impatient for Jovay who was taking his own sweet time to come back, he left the barracks and immediately ran into a couple mechanics he knew. Drunk.
"Whoa, party!" Hennra exclaimed. "I'm goin' where you're goin'!"
"No, you're not," Luke said flatly, pushing past them. He paused, then headed to the command center. His mind raced ahead, but he couldn't locate Jovay. Still, there were people inside. Instead of entering, he slid alongside the building into a shadow, then Force-sharpened his hearing like his...dad...had taught him.
"—a wild card. If he steps out of line—" Willard.
"He's my head of Security, he won't." Narra.
"You have Antilles under control?" Dodonna.
"Not 'under control'," Narra snapped. "He understands."
"He'd better. From now on, there's no more Skywalker...or Lars." Dodonna.
"What about Lu— Oz? Does he understand?" Willard.
"I told him. He'd better be smart enough to know that it has to be done." Dodonna.
"I hope so. The money Vader promised is enough to help us stay afloat."
Money? What in the name of Chaos?! Luke held his breath and pressed himself back farther into the darkness.
"If Vader comes through with it."
"Why wouldn't he?"
"The Emperor will know Vader shot down the two TIEs that were trailing the pilot. He'll have to answer for that."
...personal...
"Somehow I don't think the Emperor will care about two TIEs."
"Unless Palpatine finds out who Vader was protecting."
...you two...it's always personal...
"I've checked our coms. Even if the Empire has them, no one mentioned his name."
Narra sighed. "Let me play our intercept of Imperial transmissions. We singled out Vader's com during the attack."
...Let him go... Stay on the leader... I'm on the leader... Luke jumped when he heard his father's familiar voice.
...the Force is strong with this one...
...I have you now, Darklighter!
Darklighter? Luke exclaimed in his head, astonished. Why would his dad—?
...personal...
"We added that using a sim application to duplicate Vader's own words. 'Darklighter' is an amalgam from various speeches, nothing too obvious."
So it wasn't personal. His father didn't think ahead to protect their future. Just thought of the moment and fired, killed two pilots to save his son...
...personal...
There was a pause as if they were waiting for Luke to process everything that was being said. Somehow, the Alliance was protecting him...or weren't they? But what about his father? His dad wouldn't talk to him but was paying the Alliance to keep him?
...It's always personal...
He couldn't help wondering how much he was worth...to both sides.
...personal...
"Did you get his family out?"
"We have a team heading to Tatooine now, hopefully they'll arrive in time."
"How do I fit in?" Boss.
"You're going to monitor him, keep him under control," Narra said flatly. "You've already established a relationship with him. You just need to...up it."
"Up it?" Boss asked, sounding almost angry. "I can't artificially 'up' a relationship with someone who trusts me."
"It's clear," Dodonna proclaimed, "that he's playing both ends against the middle."
What did that mean?
"No, Jovay was, but not Luke. He doesn't...doesn't lie."
Several seconds of astonished silence were broken by a chuckle from Willard. "That boy lies like he breathes. It's natural for him. Not surprising, considering."
Yeah, so what?— Hey, wait! Is that a slur against my dad?
"Only for his survival," Boss said defensively. "Think about it. He doesn't lie randomly."
Maybe it's time I started.
Luke clearly felt a shrug in Narra's voice. "Try to be there for him. He'll need support, especially now that Jovay is gone—"
Gone? Jovay was gone? Gone where? He was going to take me to my dad...
...who evidently doesn't want me anymore since I failed him...no, only his plans, not him...?
No, I failed my father who could have been free of Palpatine.
He could have been free...
"—needs a stabilizing influence. He was very loyal to Jovay. See that he becomes the same to you."
"I don't know if I'm the best—"
That was enough! Luke raced around the building and burst through the door. The gathered group first looked alarmed, then:
"What are you wearing?" Narra's tone was one of disbelief.
Luke refused to be scorned. "You want Oz, you got Oz." He scowled, but his heart was racing with fury and turmoil. "Where's Captain Jovay? Did you kill him?"
"Kill—?" Boss shook his head. "Stars, no, we sent him back to the Empire with the smuggler. We couldn't keep him here and risk him spying for—"
"Then why are you keeping me?"
"Are you a spy?" Willard folded his arms.
Luke frowned, crossed his own arms and remained stubbornly silent.
"Outrageous as it sounds," Narra said mildly, "we're protecting you."
For a price.
"Have you heard the Empire's spin on the destruction?" Dodonna asked, though it didn't sound like a question. "Nearly two million people killed in a Rebel terrorist attack on a mobile bioagricultural research facility."
"A what?" Luke asked, before the entire revelation hit him.
Two million...? That wasn't... No, it couldn't be. Not that many. He couldn't have... His father wouldn't have sacrificed that many... or would have told him, asked him, warned him...
That sound...the screams that followed him...that couldn't have been...
"Two million people who have family and friends everywhere in the galaxy. If they knew you were responsible for their loss..." Dodonna's smile held an edge of something indescribable. "No one...not even your...no one could save you."
"General," Narra interrupted. "Oz, since Darklighter was killed, we made him the...scapegoat."
"Hero," Dodonna corrected.
Luke looked at him coldly. "Did you get Biggs's family out? Heard from your team yet?"
If a moment of silence could be shocked, this was it.
"You may as well include me in your plots," Luke continued evenly. "I'll know them anyway."
Dodonna's fists clenched. "I told you this was a bad idea." This time his anger was directed at Narra.
"Maybe it was," Luke snapped, "but it's made and done." Oz snatched the blue feathered hat off his head and crossed it over his body, bowing deeply. "Gentlemen, I'll leave you to your conspiracies." He turned to the door and—
Potentially Oz's most outstanding exit, but he'd forgotten something.
"And I want an allowance out of the money my father is sending. Fifty credits a week." He held out one hand.
Narra sighed and looked down at his datapad, then glanced up when Garven Dreis said, "Twenty-five. Per month."
Luke blinked, taken aback. Okay... "Forty, that's the least I'll take."
"Twenty-five," Boss repeated.
He kept his hand out. "Thir—"
"Twenty-five, take it or leave it."
He wouldn't admit defeat aloud, just left his palm open.
Unexpectedly it was Dodonna who dug into his pocket. He crossed the room and placed the credits in Luke's hand, his nails digging in, cutting his flesh. Luke didn't flinch or look away as Dodonna kept staring at him...hurting him again.
"Step back," he ordered softly, the way his father had warned him when he went too far. Then added in a whisper: "Two million today...what's one more?"
Boss approached them. "Oz, that's enough. Don't threaten when you have no intention of following through."
Luke raised one eyebrow. Don't I? and he didn't need to say it.
"General!" Narra again. "We need to finalize the evacuation schedule."
A single heartbeat, then another before Dodonna released him and turned his back.
Luke let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and left quickly. Why did that man frighten him so? All he could hope was that he'd scared Dodonna away from him.
Unless his threat had the opposite effect. Think before you speak. Too late.
Now it was personal.
OooOoo
He didn't want the bar where the pilots and mechs hung out. There was another place, seedier, dirtier, one he'd only heard about. But at least they wouldn't know him there. Not that anyone would recognize him in these clothes, especially if he kept his hat on. He could be alone in plain sight. Get sloppy drunk and forget about everything for a night, not have to think.
It was crowded but he found an open space at the bar. He put down five credits on the silver metal counter. "House ale."
The bartender looked him over and smiled slightly. "Quite an outfit. If you're looking for trade, you've come to the right place."
Luke flushed. He knew what that meant. When he was younger, just starting to hang out in Mos Eisley, that had been a big problem for awhile until he'd learned to project an unapproachable attitude. "Ale."
The man shrugged, banged a plastisteel mug on the counter and filled it with warm, pale ale. His hand laid over the five credits and remained there. "Fifty."
"What? No way!"
The hand raised barely enough for Luke to see a packet of purple crystals.
Violet glitt.
Fifty was a good price. Violet was potent. Exhilarating. He'd tried it only once and the memory sent shivers along his spine.
He'd promised his dad—
But his dad wasn't speaking to him, so he wouldn't know. "I...twenty."
"Fifty, including the drink."
Luke shook his head. "No, just..."
A fifty cred chip slid toward the bartender, who took it and released the drink and packet.
Luke turned to the man on the next stool. "You're not buying me!" he warned fiercely.
"No, I'm buying this. But I might share."
He didn't answer and wrapped his hand around the ale, sipping slowly. Stars, it tasted awful!
"And I could use some company— conversation," the man clarified when Luke bristled. "My so-called friends have abandoned me tonight. Can't blame them."
Curiosity overcame his reticence and he studied the other. Human, dark skin, dark hair, disconcertingly light grey eyes. "Why?"
"Dayan. That's my name."
"Oz," Luke replied reluctantly. "So why are your friends avoiding you?"
Dayan shook the Violet pack, then opened it carefully. He sprinkled half the contents into his own drink, then half into Luke's without waiting for permission. Distracted, Luke looked at it and wondered... but his dad would...
"My father was on the Death Star. Nothing like death to be a conversation killer..." The man tried to laugh, but his breath caught. He took a drink and gasped again as the Violet hit.
"I...what...the Death Star...I...I'm sorry...I didn't know..." Luke struggled to form words around the guilt that burst out, overwhelming him like a violent sandstorm sweeping through the flatland.
"Why? Not your fault." Dayan focused on him and his face changed. "Oh, krit! Was your father there too?"
My father? Luke shook his head, horrified. The screams were back, they were everywhere, it was personal—
Shut up! He took a long swallow of ale and—
And—
And then—
He gasped, involuntarily throwing back his head as the spice hit. His entire body quivered. Crystals stuck to his lips, he could feel them sharp and jagged, and he ran his tongue around them, unable to think, just wanting to grab every bit, every every every every...
"Take it easy." Dayan's words slurred. "Been awhile, huh?"
"Y...yeah," Luke managed. "I forgot...how it..."
"Hell yeah."
There was more in the mug. Luke gulped down the rest. Crystals on the bottom. He scooped them out with his fingers, slipped them in his mouth, sucked them off. "Gods..." It coursed through every inch of his body, heating it, shooting all his nerves awake, so good so good so good...
A hundred creds on the bar. His blood was on fire. Another drink waiting there, another pouch of purple in front of him...another slipped into his vest pocket.
A hand on his thigh...and Dayan was crying inside...
So am I...
"Are you sure you don't..."
He pushed the hand off—or did he hold it?— struggling to speak. "You...your dad...what did he...?"
"Do?" The man paused as if he was having difficulty too. "Worked in...in the kitchen...kitchen! Didn't know damned place was a weapon... thought...just a station...a base. No work at home...needed job...Empire has lotsa jobs..."
"I guess." He was coming off the initial shattering impact, now he was...warm...relaxed...he was glowing, hazy...so was everything around him. "I...c'n I smoke this?"
"Yah, but why would you want to? Best this way. Straight."
Luke nodded carefully, hoping his head wouldn't fall off. He drank from the new mug, pretty in purple, tipped the rest of the packet into his mouth. It burned his teeth, ripped pieces off his tongue...spiraled down through him to his toes. Someone cheered...he was a hero, everyone knew him, everyone loved him...
...it's always personal...
"I put one here, in your pocket." The man's hand rested there, on his chest...fingers spreading...
"I know." He could hear his heart. Beating loud loud...
"Take this one too." The hand pulled away, then returned with another pat. Another packet. "Save 'em. Don' think you should have a third one t'night."
"Been a long time," Luke agreed. "An' this...really good." He tilted his face toward the other. "Why're...you being so...nice?"
"Aren't people usually nice to you?"
Luke shook his head. "I d-don't k-know." It shouldn't be this hard to speak.
"They should be. You're gorgeous."
He giggled. "...not."
"Yeah, you are." Dayan leaned closer. "I have to go home...for job, support...family." His breath was hot in Luke's ear, and he didn't like that. "We wouldn't see each other again. It'd just be once for...to feel good. An' not be lonely."
Hand back on his thigh, rubbing gently, and he allowed it. Images appeared...they looked like him, like... Dayan was looking into his eyes and thought he was...thought he...and his hands...his hands...
Luke sighed. He felt good now, but it wouldn't last. Couldn't last, never lasted. Maybe he'd be lonely, but he couldn't tell the difference...being alone or not alone? Without his dad. Even Jovay gone. And Dayan was so nice, so kind...it seemed so natural to tilt his face upward...waiting...
...but his dad. What would his dad think? He didn't know, he honestly didn't know. His dad would be mad about the spice, but was this okay? This mouth that was so close to his...
Was this—
"What in hells are you doing?"
He was yanked off the stool, stumbling backward into someone—
Boss. Krit.
"Nothin—"
But Boss was ignoring him—except for the firm grip on his arm—and spoke angrily to his new friend.
"He's jailbait even in the Alliance. Don't prey on kids!"
"No, stop!" Luke tried to free himself and failed. "His father...his father died...today...his father..."
"Sorry," Dayan said. "Just lookin' for a little—"
"I know what you're looking for," Boss said icily. "Look elsewhere. Come on."
Luke staggered and struggled to free himself, but nothing worked. Suddenly they were outdoors and it was cold and dark. "C-cold coldy-cold!"
Boss swore under his breath. "Are you high?"
Luke giggled. "Not high enough!" Allowed himself to be dragged...not that it was his choice.
A door banged and they were somewhere warm.
"Hey, Boss—"
"What's—" another voice said.
"What's going on?" Wedge?
"Partying too hard," Boss said grimly, shoving Luke into his bunk and snatching off his hat.
Felt good. Bed soft. Pillow soft. Everything purply.
"A costume party?" someone called. "I wasn't invited."
"Go to sleep," Boss ordered, pulled his door closed...really hard.
Well, okay, then... Luke closed his eyes. Not that he'd had them open. He felt...good...happy.
Not lonely at all.
OooOoo
His shoulder hurt. His hand hurt more. His real hand. It woke him up. Why did Dodonna have to hurt his real one? He had a perfectly expensive military hand that wouldn't have hurt at all. He sat up and tried to see his hand, but it was dark. He had to pee.
The room was dark. People were snoring. He didn't want to wake them up so he went outside. It was a long walk to get there because his feet were crooked. When had that happened?
He peed in the dirt next to the door. There were a lot of people in the distance. Things were coming apart...no, things were being taken apart. They were evacuating. He needed to go to that Exar Kun place, where his dad said Jedi were trained. He needed to go there before they left. It was important. His dad wouldn't teach him anymore. He needed to—
"Get back inside."
He blinked and looked at Boss who was wearing... "Are those jammies?" Then he covered his mouth. "Oops! Do you know you're wearing underwear? Outside!"
"Be quiet or you'll wake the others." Boss steered him back toward his bed.
"I know. That's why I peed outside."
"Ssh. I know. Now you can go back to bed."
"Boss!" So funny! "Jailbait...'member? Whassat mean...?"
"It means you're not twenty-one yet. Only eighteen. Now go to—"
"Sixteen." Boss was wrong! Never wrong 'til now. 'Bout anything.
"What?"
He yawned.
"You need to sleep."
Luke frowned. "Hand hurts."
The older man sighed. "What did you do to it?"
Luke held out his real hand. "Not me. Dodonna. He hates me. It's always personal..."
His hand was taken palm up and studied. "You should've cleaned these. I'll get something for them."
"These them what?" Luke looked at his hand. It was dark except for his little bed-light, but he could see red marks.
Boss was back in a few seconds, wiped a wet cloth on his hurts, then something that felt good spread across the marks.
"Try not to antagonize him."
That sounded familiar. "Yeah...I should be more...circumspect. He gets mad easy. Like my dad."
He was pushed back on the pillow and a blanket tugged into place over him. "Go to sleep."
"I have my boots on," Luke observed.
"That's all right. Sleep now."
His dad said that once. Luke smiled and closed his eyes, then opened them again.
"Two million?" he asked clearly, trying to focus on Boss's face.
There was a hesitation, then: "Yes."
Luke squeezed his eyes shut. "People are crying," he whispered. "People are crying everywhere."
It's personal...
OooOoo
