Truth Chapter 48

A reviewer once suggested that I name the chapters. I really like the idea, but I can't think of 47 names. However, if I were to name this one, it would be "Trapped on a Transport" or "Conversations" because that's the entire chapter (almost). And maybe the next chapter too because Luke won't stop talking. I am his prisoner. (Not a bad fate.)

OooOoo

"Get up! Pack your stuff! We're leaving in an hour. And take a damn shower!"

Whoever jolted him awake with the shouting vanished, leaving no one else to blame for his suddenly throbbing headache. Oh... they were moving the base. He vaguely remembered that.

Feeling dizzy, he sat up and held onto the edge of the bed until the spinning room slowed to a sluggish spiral. With a heavy sigh, he dragged his jumpsuit from a peg on the wall and staggered to the shower. Everyone was gone. Probably at the canteen for breakfast—the thought of which turned his stomach even more.

The cold water made him feel only marginally better. Helped his head, but his mouth felt like...blech. "Don' think about it," Luke muttered. He stumbled back to his bunk and sat motionless for a few minutes, then checked his bag and pulled out the old cloak. That could go on top in case he was cold. He shoved his wonderful Tatooine clothes—but paused and grabbed the green brocade vest. There was...oh, yeah. Two packets of Violet in the breast pocket. Krit. He should throw them out...

He grabbed one boot and pulled open the inside pocket. The glitt fit, but... his datachip wasn't there. He'd forgotten his datachip! He had to have that, especially since they were going to erase Skywalker. He needed something to remember, to show people, just in case he was...erased.

Another horrifying thought struck and he fumbled in the satchel and around his bunk. Well, okay, there was his dad's poster; he tucked that safely at the bottom of the bag. But where—

"Boss! Boss!" He leaped up and almost fell. Stars, he was still high.

Dreis was in the rec area pulling down the last of the pilots' belongings that draped over chairs and hooks. "What?" He didn't sound any too friendly.

Luke walked over gingerly, wall-surfing, using one hand against the wood for balance. "My chip...my lightsaber. I don't have them. I have to have them!"

"I'm sure Command has them. Now will you pack?"

Boss used to be nicer. Was it just because of the spice? Or because he knew who Luke really was? "I'm sorry..."

"Just finish!"

Luke flinched but obeyed. Educational datatapes...all that was left from his dad. Except the lightsaber. His bedding didn't fit in his bag, so he rolled up everything and stuffed it into one of the boxes outside the door. Took a last look around. Without people, the room was so cold. He shivered.

"I'm ready."

"Then check in at the transport! Do I have to tell you everything?" Boss stopped and shook his head. "Sorry. I'm just... You frustrate the hell out of me."

"Yeah, that's what Oz does," Luke snapped, not sure if it was defiance or desperation in his tone. Tightening his grip on the bag, he left just as Wedge was coming in for a final check. Luke nodded at him, not trusting his voice.

His precious bag checked into the transport, Luke hesitated. No time to eat, but...his lightsaber...what if they'd forgotten it? He pushed through the lines and raced to the Command Center, the last place he'd seen it. Why would anyone pack it, they didn't care, they didn't realize what it meant to him.

The CC was a mess. Scavengers would have a great time going through all this junk. Broken monitors, equipment that had been deliberately smashed to be left behind, piles of worthless flimsi— He scrambled through it all, crawling under tables, just to be sure—

And there it was! Part of it anyway. "I knew they didn't remember." He clutched the hilt to his chest and kept searching nearby until he found the rest, frantically checking to be sure all the pieces were there—emitter matrix, power source, insulator—found the power cap that had rolled away—thank the Force he hadn't removed anything other than the Death Star plans because he couldn't have assembled this from scratch.

"OZ! OZ!"

Why was he always in trouble! "COMING!" Luke shouted, barely managing to corral all the parts in his hands, hugging them to him.

Outside most of the transports were away, only a half-dozen left. Boss was standing with hands on his hips. "Where—"

"I found my lightsaber! They didn't pack it," Luke panted. "D'you think they have my—"

"If they don't, it's too late. We need to get into hyperspace before the Imperial fleet shows up."

"They're coming?" Was his father with them? Luke hesitated, but Boss shoved him toward the ramp. "Okay, okay."

Once onboard, he found his pack and managed to squeeze the lightsaber parts into it before finding a seat and buckling in. His spurt of energy gave out and he sighed, exhausted, still dizzy, and feeling none too well. Maybe they'd have food...

He fell asleep leaning against a stranger's shoulder.

OooOoo

"Get off me!"

Well, that was a short nap. Luke sighed and straightened. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Finally bothering to look around, he realized he was in the central compartment. It was busy with people walking and talking and—Force preserve us—eating! There was all of Red Squad, nice they'd been given some time to unwind, and he walked—okay, staggered a little—to join them at a big table in the corner. "Hey."

A few grunts of "Oz" greeted him.

"I can't remember the last time I ate." He hoped for a little sympathy, but all he got was a dish of reconstituted vegetables shoved his way. And a package of milk. "Gee, thanks."

Across the table, Wedge winked. Good to know that he still had some friends here in spite of...well, everything. Wincing a little from the pain in his shoulder as he pulled the dish to him, he slipped his left hand under the table to take a surreptitious look at it. Didn't look too bad, nothing anyone would comment on. He tilted the milk carton to his mouth and guzzled it.

"For my last one, I had sex," Zev Senesca said.

Luke spit out the milk and had to wipe it from his chin. "What?"

"Congratulations. First time?" Hobbie's eyes sparkled though his face remained solemn.

"Jealous?"

"Lucky!" Janson wadded up a napkin and threw it at him. "I got socks."

"I got a hat," Wedge said. "I don't even wear hats. What about you, Oz?"

He was caught off guard, stuffing mashed...whatever it was...into his mouth. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but you're bizarre."

"The boys are talking about what they got for their last birthdays," Boss said with an indulgent smile, "and what they want for their next one."

"I want a varactyl," Porkins declared.

"I want a cake," Luke said. "Just a cake."

"Sounds good. What did you get for your last one?"

He stifled a sigh. Boss was going to find ways to eke out information no matter what the topic. Luke waved his fork in the air. "New hand. Pass the plate of whatever that brown stuff is."

The unnamed dish began its travel along the table toward him. "That's creepy." Zev pretended to shudder. "What happened to your old one?"

"Accident," Luke replied blandly. "Like they say, Sith happens." He laughed at the joke that was his alone. Or not.

"Still creepy." Zev stared at him. "Are you sober?"

Krit. Awkward silence was not his preferred mode. "Yeah," he said shortly.

"Good. Because we'll need a sober mechanic when we make base. Not somebody strung out."

Luke ate another bite of the brown...whatever. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled. He felt Boss's eyes on him, but the older man said nothing.

"It's happened to all of us," Porkins said.

"Some more than others," Janson observed brightly.

Porkins ignored the interruption. "Look...sorry about your friend. None of us knew Darklighter—we didn't have time—but you...how long had you known him?''

For a split second, he went blank, picturing Biggs in Anchorhead where he should be, dusty and wind-blown, not blown into space dust and scattered blindly into the void. It hit him like a rock and he dropped his fork, elbows on the table, hands over his face in a desperate attempt to stop or at least shield the tears that took him by surprise.

"Ah Force!" Porkins exclaimed. "I'm sorry."

Luke shook his head but didn't look up. "No, it's...all right. I've known...knew him all my life. Since we were kids. He was a really good person. And a good friend." Better than I deserved, he realized. "A better friend to me than I was to him."

"Awkward," Janson murmured.

Boss raised his glass. "To Biggs Darklighter, hero and destroyer of the Death Star," he added, just in case Luke had forgotten.

He raised his milk carton, tears blinked back, and said good-bye to the friend who deserved the label of "hero" much more than he did. "To Biggs."

And to thinking about him later. Much later.

OooOoo

"Does anyone know where we're going?"

"I hope so," Wedge said to Hobbie. "Otherwise it will be a short trip when we come out of hyper."

"It starts with a 'Y', that's all I remember...well, all I overheard." Hobbie grinned. "Hey, Boss!" he called, "Your minions need you here!"

They laughed, and Luke felt relief and happiness that he was still accepted as part of their team. He wouldn't be if they knew everything...still, Boss knew...and he wasn't sure how much Wedge had figured out.

Boss left the group of Command staff who were settled around the giant viewport, sipping caf. "We're going to Yavin. I'm sure you've all heard of Yavin."

There was a silence that Luke felt compelled to fill.

"Yavin Prime is a red gas giant, so we're obviously not setting up base there, can't get through the atmosphere anyway," he began, closing his eyes to recall the datatape better. "However, it's orbited by twenty-six moons, three of which are habitable, numbered four, eight and thirteen. Eight is icy and cold, so we probably won't go there, sounds awful. Thirteen is hot and dry and inhabited by two non-human species, so I'm guessing...maybe not. Moon four is uninhabited, no natives to put at risk by our presence, mostly covered with jungle, so it's a great place for hiding. There's also a huge pyramid, an ancient temple, we could probably fit a couple hangars in there...and the climate is temperate. So we're likely going to there. It's identified as Yavin Four."

Continued silence. Luke opened his eyes to see everyone staring at him, including some of the Command members who had moved closer. "What?" he snapped defensively. "You think I listen to all those datatapes for fun? No point in studying if I don't remember stuff."

The quiet lasted another few moments until Janson said, "Yeah, he's sober," and the other pilots chuckled as Command moved away.

"Very good," Boss said.

Luke felt his cheeks heat. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Aw shucks," Janson teased. "Hey, before you get a big head, can I borrow some of your clothes? The stuff you were wearing last night was fab-u-lous! I never see anything in the commissary like that. Where'd you get it?"

"Tatooine." He was glad for a change of subject. "People throw all sorts of things in the trash."

"Trash!" Porkins was horrified. "You wear garbage?"

"It's been washed." Luke wrinkled his nose. "Well...I had to wear it dirty at first, but..."

"People on Tatooine must be rich if they throw away something like that coat."

"And the hat," Janson added. "The hat is so me!"

Luke snorted. "Gamblers, they win and lose and just toss stuff when they leave. Food, great food—all types of clothes—" A sudden memory struck him. "—and people...they even throw dead people out with the garbage."

Great. He had decimated that stimulating intercourse just when it was getting started. "Only once," he added quickly. "I only saw that happen once."

"You, my friend," Zev murmured, "have had a somewhat odd life."

And you don't know the half of it! "Isn't there any dessert," he complained. "I need something sweet."

"I'm right here, honeybun," Janson made a kissy face.

"Kritpeth," Luke grumbled. "Why don't you take a nap?" He looked at Boss. "Are we there yet? This is a really really really long trip."

"Longest flight I've ever been on," Garven answered, but his expression was pleased. "We're multi-jumping, lessens the possibility of being tracked. Oz, let's talk privately." He jerked his head to the left, indicating a doorway.

"Oh-oh." Porkins sent him a sad look. "Nice knowing you."

Janson flapped his hand like it was a handkerchief. "Can I have your clothes if you don't come back?"

"Oh, stop!" Wedge said, laughing. "Boss won't hurt him—we need a mechanic!"

OooOoo

"I wondered how long you would wait until—"

"Sit." Boss pointed to a chair in the small conference room. "You're going to answer some questions. And I would appreciate honesty."

"Me too." Luke slouched in an Oz position. "Shall I assume that everything I say will go straight back to Command?"

A frown creased his forehead as Garven seated himself across the table. "You should probably assume it since I'll be the one deciding what I do or do not tell them."

"Huh. So...shoot."

"What went on last night?"

"Whatever."

Boss folded his hands on the table. "Don't take that attitude with me. I know it's a pretense, because pretense is all you know...you build walls in front of walls. You think you're safe, that they make it impossible for people to hurt you...but now you can't get out. You've imprisoned yourself."

"Oh, great, you're a psych cop!" Luke snapped uncomfortably, tilting his chair to balance preciously on its back legs. "You wanted Oz, you got him. Quit whining about it."

"You're wrong. I want you."

"No, you don't." The chair dropped back down and he leaned his elbow on the table, chin in his hand, feeling his pulse beating too fast behind his ear. "You really don't want me."

"If you even know who that is any longer." Boss's fingers tightened but otherwise he remained still. "What did you take last night?"

Luke considered, feeling an exhilarating combination of shame and pride and confusion. "Violet," he said and had the satisfaction of seeing Boss wince and shift in his seat.

"Do you know how strong that is?"

"Well, yeah, I took it."

The commander shook his head. "That could've killed you. How much did you take?"

"I dunno...a couple packs, maybe less, not sure. And it couldn't have killed me. Spice can't hurt a Force user." That wasn't exactly what his dad had said but close enough. Although...he seemed to be feeling his feelings a lot more than usual today.

Boss's eyes narrowed. "Buying that must have used up all your 'allowance'."

Luke laughed. "You really don't know what good glitt costs! Don't be ridiculous, I couldn't pay for it."

"Mmm." Boss's face was neutral. "So you were whoring yourself for a high?"

Luke inhaled sharply and jumped up, outraged and humiliated. "How dare you? I didn't do anything— I've never— What are you—"

"You might have," the other replied, "if I hadn't interrupted. Sit down."

Well... fair point. Luke sat and shifted uncomfortably in the seat. Imagine if his dad found out... "He was nice. Sad. His father was killed on the Death Star."

"And I've got a great planet to sell you cheap."

He gave the sarcasm a moment to settle, reflecting back on the prior night. "He was...telling the truth. I felt it."

One dark gray eyebrow raised. "Hmm. Have you stashed any glitterstim here?"

Kritpeth. Luke steepled his fingers and didn't answer.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. If I find it, you're off Red Squad."

Hells! "I...you can't get rid of me that easily! You have to keep me!"

"We can keep you in the brig." Dreis leaned back. "You said at your hearing that you hadn't used spice since you joined us. True?" He waited for Luke's shrug before continuing. "So what changed? Why did you start...presumably... again?"

"You're kidding, right?" He threw his hands in the air. "It was a special occasion. Let's see...you all put me in prison, exposed my entire life, shoved me in a ship, had me murder two million people, Biggs is dead, Jovay reamed me out, my dad won't talk to me, and I can't even have my real name anymore! How many more reasons do you want?"

The officer had the grace to look down for a moment. For the first time, Luke wondered if Boss was an interrogator, and the idea made him uneasy. Possibly he wasn't smart enough to evade a professional interrogator.

Although being Dad Vader's son had provided good on-the-job experience.

Still...he'd never been terribly successful at the think before you speak lesson.

"We didn't expose your life, just your lies. Though I don't doubt they are endless."

"You told them I only lied to protect myself," he said quietly and was rewarded by a flush on Boss's face.

"That's what I believe." Dreis frowned momentarily but recovered quickly. "So...Vader's son and you were raised on Tatooine?"

"You know that's where he's from. You know who he is. Why are you trying to pretend you don't?"

Boss slammed a fist on the table. "Give me honest answers!"

"Then give me honest questions!" Luke looked around the room. "Where's the recording device...monitor...whatever? Or are they talking in your ear, telling you—"

"No!" Finally the man was flustered. "There are no recording devices, this is—"

"Oh, please! Do you believe that?" Luke stood. "Talk to me another time. Maybe at the base. Maybe outdoors. Maybe naked so I can see you're not recording."

He stomped toward the door, and Boss made no move to stop him, but did say quietly:

"This isn't over. And I'm not your enemy."

"Coulda fooled me," he hissed and left.

OooOoo