Chapter 56 - Turnaround

OooOoo

"And new blasters too? Where did you get all this stuff?" Porkins asked.

"More importantly, how did you pay for it?" Zev asked under his breath.

Luke glared at him. "I said Corellia, and I just did, okay?"

"Maybe he has a patron," Hobbie sniped.

"Oh, c'mon! Just a…." Words failed him.

"Someone… a relative or a friend or… what was the other thing?" Zev asked rhetorically. "Oh, yeah… you did a favor for someone."

"Maybe a Falleen," Wedge murmured. Luke didn't respond.

"Well, I don't care where he got the stuff," Janson said defensively. "I'm just enjoying touching it. Seriously, feel this fabric!" He shoved a shirt at Zev then reached into the bag to snatch the cloak.

"Careful!" Luke snapped. "My lightsaber is in there!"

"Lightsaber?!" came a chorus. "Does it work now?" Boss asked curiously.

Luke unrolled it from the cloak. "Not the old one. I built a new one." He held it out with pride, but pulled back when Boss tried to touch it. "Yes, it works— be careful!" He stood and went back into the central room, then hesitated.

"Well… there is one thing…." He cleared his throat. "Apparently, the… um… the spice I took was purple and I guess it was… still in my bloodstream… which sorta had something to do with the laser color… I think."

They all stared wordlessly so he sighed and ignited it. Its glare illuminated even the corners of the big room with a brilliant purple. He swung it a few times to show off the hum and the sweep of light.

"Wow," Wedge said quietly and that was echoed by the others. "I didn't know they came in purple. The old pictures I saw were white or blue or… except for Vader's red one."

"I don't know what the colors mean," Luke said uncertainly, snapping off the blade.

"Then why do you think the glitt made yours purple?" Boss asked, his eyes locked on the hilt.

"Uh… just a guess." Darth Vader told me so. Stars, covering up lies was confusing and annoying.

"When I was a kid, I had an old holocard that had a battle scene showing a Jedi with a purple one." Boss folded his arms as though holding back from grabbing the saber.

"Really? Do you still have it?" he asked eagerly.

"Of course not. They're un-Imperial," he replied dryly.

"Isn't everything?" Zev muttered.

"Can I hold it?" Janson asked eagerly.

"No, it's not a toy!" Great, I sound like my father. "Sorry."

Zev chuckled. "Our Baby Jedi has grown up a little more."

"I'm not a Jedi!" Luke snapped. "They're horrible— No offense, Boss."

Garven shrugged. "So… does that mean you're a Baby Sith?"

"I'm not anything," he replied crossly. "I don't have to have a label."

"That's right," Hobbie cooed. "If anything, we can call you a Style Lord."

"Look at these coats." Janson sighed enviously. "I mean, this one is very practical, but look at this one. Krit, it's hand-embroidered! Are you kidding me? Really, where did you get the money?"

"I'd be interested to know that too," Zev said with a barely audible hint of suspicion.

Hmm, clearly he hadn't thought this part all the way through. Luke crossed to slouch on the sofa, stalling for time. Then he got up to pour himself a caf, which turned out to be old and too strong so he dumped it. Then he sat again, waiting for the others to give up pawing the clothes and join him. "Well…."

"We figured it out already," Porkins answered. "You have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend."

"Or an Imperial parent," Hobbie said.

"I'm going with Admiral Ozzel," Janson added. "Get it? Oz… Ozzel." Luke simply stared at him.

"Nah, I think it's a Moff." Hobbie grinned. "Or you're Mon Mothma's lovechild."

"Or her boy toy."

"We had fun talking about you while you were gone," Janson offered brightly. "It livened up those boring evenings. We missed you sitting there silently listening to tapes for hours and hours."

They were all waiting expectantly, and he just knew they weren't going to let this go. He leaned forward. "Well… if you promise not to tell anyone else…"

Nothing but the truth, Dad.

"Go ahead," Boss said, sitting back at the table, daring him with a smile.

"After I was done with the Force training— That was with Yoda, Boss, he's dead now, don't ask— Darth Vader dropped by and we spent a few days together."

Whoops of laughter were followed by Janson chastising, "Shut up, I want to hear this!"

Encouraged, but not daring to look at Boss, Luke continued. "He gave me fashion advice. In fact, he said I was disheveled, which was pretty embarrassing."

"I know I'd be embarrassed," Hobbie agreed.

"But his wardrobe is so simple," Janson said with disappointment. "It's just all black. What does he know about fashion?"

"Well, yeah," Luke defended, "but have you ever seen him looking less than meticulously turned out?"

"No." Boss pressed his fingers against his forehead. "Covered with the blood of innocent beings, maybe, but still meticulously turned out."

Luke ignored him.

Janson sighed with delight. "So did he sweep you away to Corellia and buy you all those clothes? Did you model them for him? Did he have to approve? Did he—"

"Ugh. No. Stop!" Luke pretended to shudder while silently acknowledging that would have been fun. "He just set up an account and told me to buy whatever I wanted."

"Stars above, this is my new fantasy," Janson murmured. "Darth Vader taking me shopping… all the finest salons and— Hey! Did he pay for your makeover too?"

"It wasn't a— Well, yeah, he said I needed an overhaul."

Zev laughed so much that he had tears in his eyes. "We missed this, Oz! Although…" He sobered only slightly. "You still haven't told us how you paid for everything."

"I just did!"

"There's an old Corellian story," Wedge began, eliciting groans from the others, "about a boy who told so many lies that when he told the truth, no one believed him."

"Every planet has that story," Porkins commented. "My mom told me that one. So what's the truth, Oz?"

He considered and finally said, "If no one can tell the difference between my lies and my truths, what does it matter whether I lie or tell the truth?"

Boss folded his arms. Hobbie and Janson exchanged a look. Porkins grimaced. Zev said: "That's some weird logic there. I know there's something wrong with it, but I can't figure it out yet. I propose a toast to Oz's unreality."

"No liquor for me," Luke said quickly, winking at Boss. "I've reformed."

Hobbie laughed. "In what way? You just lied your little heart out."

"I don't drink or use drugs," Luke said primly. "Not now that I have a lightsaber and… who knows what might happen if I lost control."

That sobered all of them. "Ooookay," Hobbie said. "Wedge, crack open your milk and share it with our other baby. Ale for the rest of us."

"Only one each," Garven said sternly and Janson rolled his eyes. "And first thing in the morning, Oz, you're completing the enlistment documents."

"No I'm not." He smiled at Wedge. They all stood and clinked their glasses in a toast. He and Wedge were the lone milk drinkers, but he didn't mind. It made him feel righteous and pure.

"Yes. If you want to fly, you're enlisting."

"No," Luke repeated, reminding: "You had no problem with me flying against the Death Star."

"Here we go," Hobbie mumbled and downed the remainder of his drink.

"Well, I have a problem now. Sign up or be a mechanic again."

This was a battle he was determined to win. "I'm not eighteen. I need approval from a parent or guardian to enlist."

Boss hesitated, but Zev said, not helpful at all, "I think there's a special provision for orphans."

Luke whirled on him. "I am not an orphan!"

Zev held up his hands. "Hey, you said your guardians were dead, so I assumed…."

He refused to be mollified. "Yeah, well…. My mother died when I was born, but I have a father, he's just… just… not around. Much," he added.

"I had a father like that," Porkins said softly. "He didn't care."

"My dad cares! He's just busy." Luke grimaced. "I'm sorry about your dad, Pork. That's not right."

"Thanks. So maybe your father can spare ten seconds to sign permission for you?"

"Good luck with that." He glanced sideways at Boss, whose expression had hardened. Luke sighed. "Look, I can do Force stuff now. I'll be useful in a fight. And if I can figure out how to do it, I can extend a… I guess a Force field to protect other fighters who are near me. Please let me fly. I can't… I don't want any of you to get hurt if I can do something to prevent it."

"Sounds good to me," Wedge said loudly. "Since when would we turn down help from a… not-Jedi-Sith Force user?"

"We haven't seen if he can do anything yet," Zev said practically.

"We will!" Janson defended. "C'mon, Boss!"

Garven threw his hands in the air. "I'll talk to Command tomorrow. No promises."

"You're in," Hobbie declared. "Let's drink to that."

"No refills," Boss stated. He clapped Luke's shoulder, startling him. "I'll try."

Whatever turned Boss around, he didn't know, but he wasn't about to argue further. Asking for corpses could wait for another day. "Great." He smiled sunnily at his brothers.

OooOoo

"Thanks for meeting me here. I like this better than being in our heads. Not that there's anything wrong with our heads," he added quickly.

They were sitting on top of an abnormally comfortable asteroid that hovered motionless in the middle of a small spinning galaxy.

"I don't know where we are, though. Do you?"

"No," Darth Vader said shortly. "What do you want now?"

"Hey!" Luke protested. "Talk nice to your favorite asset."

Vader was silent.

"How do I look? Great, huh?"

"Acceptable."

He was outraged until Vader chuckled, then he sighed in resignation. "Okay. Anyway, they want me to enlist before I can pilot and—"

"No."

"I know that!" He scowled. "I already said no and Boss will talk to Command tomorrow. But the guys thought the rule wouldn't apply to me because I was an orphan."

Vader said nothing and didn't even appear to feel guilty at the idea that he was a neglectful parent.

"I told them you were busy."

"Indeed I am. Get to the point. What do you want?"

"Stars!" He was tempted to wake up and leave. But…. "After we did the bonding thing, you know…?"

"I know. I was there." The bug-eyed helmet looked at him.

Luke closed his own eyes for a moment and gathered his patience. "I'm fine now that I'm back with the guys… well, sort of fine. But sometimes I have thoughts that are kind of… Sithly."

"Sithly," his father repeated.

"Yeah." He was tempted to ask, do you know what I mean, but didn't want to hear another snappy comeback from his dad.

"Yes, I know what you mean."

Oh, fine. No private thoughts!

"Sithly how?"

He flopped back and watched a distant star explode overhead. "Cool. Well… I thought about how you were holding me back and that I wanted to take down Sidious right now and things like that. And killing people that I know."

"I am familiar with those thoughts," his father stated with what sounded like mock solemnity. "And I repeat: what do you want?"

"I want to know if I'm always going to be so kriffed up! If I'm ever going to feel one way or the other! If I'm going to be a Sith! I want to know what's going to happen!"

They remained in silence for what seemed like forever. "If I knew what was going to happen," his father said finally, "we wouldn't be in this predicament. I believe you are thinking some of my thoughts—"

"You mean when we bonded, I got some of—"

"Yes, and I got some of yours," Vader said heavily.

"You mean you're…." He didn't know how to ask. "You mean you got some Luke thoughts?"

"Force help me," Vader muttered, and his helmet disappeared. There was his father, his real father, or at least the father that Darth Vader wanted him to see. The one who was barely older than him, which was awesomely weird, and had curly hair snipped shorter than his own. "Your hair is too long."

"Is not," was the only comment Luke could think of. Then a question popped into his head like it had been waiting for the opportunity to unveil itself. "So, Dad… do you ever think about defecting?" he wondered daringly. "Asking for a few billion friends."

Dad-Anakin-Vader reclined to lie alongside him. "No. Yes. Sometimes. Maybe."

"Ooooh, you do sound like me. I'm sorry." He pretended to be sympathetic. "Do you think like me too?"

"Gods, I hope not. Although that would explain a few things."

"Like what?"

"Piett said 'good morning' to me today. He never says that. He always says 'my lord' and nods. I don't know why he said good morning."

Luke giggled and turned his head to look at the man beside him. "That doesn't sound so bad. I'm thinking of killing people and you're worried because your exec said good morning."

"I know, that's what worries me… that I'm so worried about it."

"Mm." His father should stop talking altogether on the Devastator if he was going to continue Luke-Speak. He studied the youthful profile. "Is this what you really look like?"

"It's how I remember I look. Before my injuries."

"Oh." He stared upward again. "I told the guys that you bought me the clothes. They were asking a lot of questions about how I got everything. They didn't believe what I said about you, of course. The truth stuff is still working out."

"Please be cautious."

Luke rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. "Does Palpatine really have spies at my base?"

"I don't know. Shall I ask him?"

He sighed and vowed to never become a parent. "If he does, he knows where we are."

"Only if the spy is able to report back to a handler. It's not an easy task. And it may be a saboteur rather than a spy."

"Oh. So… Do you really think about defecting?"

Vader tilted his head to look at him. His eyes were very blue. "Not exactly. More like… allying."

"Oh." He could look into those eyes forever. They were so familiar, like a mirror. "But then we couldn't confront Palpatine personally."

"Probably not." His dad looked upward again and the blue gaze was lost to him. "It would require a new plan."

"Yeah. We could be captured," he said idly.

"By whom?"

"By Palpatine."

"Huh," his father said.

Luke rolled onto his back. "This is awkward. I liked it better when you were you and I was me."

"Yes." Darth Vader was back, helmet and all. "You must leave. One of your friends wants to try on your jacket."

He sighed. "Probably Janson—"

"I knew you knew I was here! You're just pretending to sleep," Janson accused.

"Yeah. Go ahead, try the jacket."

"Thanks! I— wait, did you read my mind? Can you read everybody's minds?"

"Yes," Luke said with a yawn. "And Wedge should be ashamed."

"What? WEDGE! What're you thinking?"

Janson successfully deflected, Luke returned his thoughts inward, but his father was gone.

And had left him a few things to think about.

OooOoo