Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 7
Luke awoke sometime later to a thunderous pain in his head, dizzying waves of nausea, and the overall feeling that he'd been on the wildest drinking binge of his life. Funny, he didn't remember going out drinking. In fact, he didn't remember much of anything. Pressing the heels of his hands against his aching eyes, he struggled to remember what had happened to make him feel so horrible. Faint snatches of memory came back to him. There was a mission; he'd talked to Narra about it. He vaguely remembered that. But then there was nothing. The mission! Had something happened? Had he somehow managed to get amnesia? Was there a mission at all? Where was he anyway?
He forced himself to open his eyes, and blinked at surroundings that were all-too familiar. He was in the medcenter. Again.
"Ugh," Luke groaned. "How did I get back here?"
"'Bout time you woke up," a familiar voice spoke from somewhere off to his left.
Luke turned his head and saw Commander Narra leaning in the doorway. He tried to sit up and muster a dignified greeting. But no sooner had he spoken the words, "Commander," than he had to shut his eyes against the ferocious nausea that brought cold beads of sweat to his forehead.
"Relax," he heard Narra say, a slight hint of amusement in his voice that Luke didn't quite find appropriate. "I'm sure you're feeling pretty terrible right now."
Luke swallowed back the sick feeling and muttered, "You said it." When he felt it was safe once more to open his eyes, he glanced up at Narra. "You mind telling me why I'm in here again?"
"You had a severe and unexpected reaction to pseudonyex, the pain killer you took for your ankle," Narra replied, taking a seat. "Never seen anything like it. And you had the medics here pretty baffled as well. They're still running tests to figure the whole thing out."
"I don't remember any of it," Luke said, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to relieve the sick, tired feeling he had.
Now, there was no mistaking the fact that Narra was trying to hide his amusement. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he looked at Luke guiltily. "That may not be such a bad thing, actually."
Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"
Narra shook his head, desperately trying to suppress a laugh. He refused to speak.
Annoyed at his commander's silence and obvious desire to laugh, Luke demanded, "Tell me." What had possibly happened?
Narra raised his eyebrows at Luke. "If you really want to know."
Luke nodded. After all, how bad could it be?
"Picture a teenage girl," Narra began, and Luke immediately regretted wanting to know. It was going to be bad if Narra was starting out with the words, "teenage girl." Narra continued, "Now give her about fifteen shots of Corellian whiskey . . ."
"Oh, stars," Luke moaned, not wanting him to continue. "You're kidding me, right?"
Narra shook his head. "You were giggling."
Luke shut his eyes, the pain in his head combined with absolute mortification. "How many people saw me?" he asked in a small voice.
"Not many," Narra admitted. "Myself, Antilles, Cage, and the medical staff."
At the mention of Genna's name, Luke's eyes flashed open. "Genna saw me?"
"She brought you here," Narra explained. "And from what she said, you were far from cooperative."
Luke went limp against the pillows. If there was ever a moment that Luke Skywalker truly felt like little Wormie from the deserts of Tatooine, this was it. He could have disappeared for all eternity right then and there, and he would have been perfectly content. He was practically begging for some cosmic anomaly to open up in the floor and swallow him so he wouldn't have to experience the sheer humiliation that was now coursing through him. This was too much to handle. He'd experienced more than his fair share in the past two days, and right now his mind was made up as far as who was to blame. If bad luck truly existed in the universe, then Genna Cage was its official vessel. Since her arrival, he'd been injured, humiliated, laid up in a medical bunk during a Rogue mission. And to think, he'd actually found her attractive!
He shuddered at the image of her in his mind, but the thought and action intensified his already existing nausea. Suddenly, with dread and panic, he groped for the basin at the side of his bed. His body went cold and his stomach rolled, and instantly he was heaving into the basin, utterly embarrassed at his own misfortune and weakness once again but thankful he'd managed to grab it in time without risking further humiliation in front of his commander. When it had at last subsided, he brushed a shaky hand across his damp forehead and sighed.
He felt a towel being placed in his hand and he murmured shakily, "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," a voice that was not Narra's replied.
He glanced up to see Genna standing in the doorway, and immediately his sickness returned. He doubled over the basin once more, retching as his stomach muscles cramped in protest to the abuse. But of course he'd gotten sick again once she'd walked in, he thought dazedly. The woman was cursed!
"I always seem to catch him at his best moments," he heard her remark to Narra.
He wished he could smile sarcastically, but it was difficult in his current situation.
When at last he was finished, he collapsed weakly on the bed and noted that Narra had risen and was talking to Genna.
"I have to admit, the situation hasn't been exactly normal since you've arrived," he was saying. "But, I can assure you, Commander Skywalker here is a fine leader, and one of the best pilots I've ever seen."
Luke was too weak to smile at his comment, but he managed a slight raise of the corners of his mouth to show Narra that his statement was well appreciated.
Narra smiled back at him. "I have to go meet with Alliance command, Luke. But there's a meeting tomorrow, and I'll fill you in on everything."
Luke nodded and watched him leave. Then glancing at Genna, he was surprised to see her sit down on the chair that Narra had just vacated. Why was she hanging around? Couldn't she see she was part of the problem? For crying out loud, she was making him physically ill!
"So," she breathed, trying to sound casual. "I'd ask you how you're feeling, but I think I already know the answer." She grinned and looked at him as though waiting for him to smile at her remark. When he didn't, she shifted, and Luke had the brief satisfaction of seeing her momentarily thrown off balance. "The mission went well though."
Leave it to her to bring that up. He scowled. "Why are you here?" he asked weakly.
Her smile faded. "The boys and I drew lots to see which one of us would come down to check on you."
He tried to make his voice sharp as he replied, "And you lost." It came out with a soft tremble instead. He cursed himself inwardly.
Apparently, Genna had noticed his intent anyway. "You know, I did manage to drag your butt all the way down here, so the least you could do is throw me a little courtesy!"
"No offense," Luke countered, "but ever since you've arrived, everything has come crashing down into a burning heap of smoldering ash. Everything I have worked so hard to achieve is now nothing."
"And how is that?" she snapped back.
He sighed. "I have struggled for two years to earn the respect of the members of my squadron. Don't you get it? I'm a nobody from a backwater planet. I'm a farmer. For months, people thought I just got lucky on that shot back at Yavin! I had to work extra hard to prove that it wasn't luck, that I deserved to be respected. I had to prove that I was worthy of this stupid hero status that had been suddenly thrust upon me without me ever wanting it, or suffer the humiliation of being considered a hack! And ever since you showed up, nothing-Nothing! -has gone right! I've ended up in this very bed twice! I've been humiliated beyond the limits of tolerance! So don't take it personally, but I really want you to leave."
Genna's eyes narrowed at him. "And just what do you mean? Leave the room, or leave the Rebellion?"
Luke was surprised by the amount of hostility he found within himself directed toward this woman. Had he really found her that attractive two days ago? "The second, preferably," he replied. "But I'll settle for the first at this moment."
Genna blanched, then left in a blur of motion.
Luke couldn't really tell, but he thought he saw tears in her eyes as she left. Remorse hit him unexpectedly then. Had he really been so cruel to her? Did she really deserve it?
The pain in his head made concentration difficult, and he resolved to settle the issue when he was fully recovered. Closing his eyes, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
******************
Wedge stormed into the room he shared with the man he often considered his friend, although he was decidedly furious with that man at the moment.
"Luke, you are so dead!" he cried as his eyes fixed upon the figure stretched out across the bottom bunk.
"So I've been frequently told," Luke tonelessly replied.
"How could you have let Genna transfer to Green Flight?" Wedge asked, both angered at the situation as well as Luke's apparent lack of concern.
Luke's reply didn't help much. "Easy."
In response to Luke's monosyllabic response, Wedge advanced, seething at the attitude being displayed. "Are you insane? She's one of the best pilots the Rebellion's got! And you're letting her go to Green Flight?"
"They could use her," Luke answered with a shrug. "We're not as desperate."
Wedge just stood there a moment, not sure whether to shout at him or deck him. The part of his mind that remembered that Luke was his superior officer urged him to go with the former. "Luke, I think you've really lost it this time! You weren't there! You didn't see her go against those Imps! She was a flying goddess up there!"
"Sorry I missed it," Luke remarked sarcastically.
"Luke," Wedge hissed, taking another step toward him, "you don't want to mess with a Corellian who is just itching to hit you right now."
At that, Luke rose, and stared Wedge in the eye. "Go for it! Add just another strike against Luke Skywalker! Hell, I'm getting used to it!"
Wedge was momentarily taken aback by Luke's sudden outburst. "What's gotten into you?"
Luke exhaled in a huff and flopped facedown on the bunk. "Nothing!" he growled into the pillow. "Cage is gone. Just let it be."
"No, I will not let it be," Wedge countered, his temper slightly lessened by his confusion at Luke's behavior. Luke had always been solid, someone they could all count on. He was funny when the guys were tired and upset, he offered himself up as comic relief when things got too serious, and he was serious and commanding when things got out of control. Never had Wedge seen him like this, a roiling pot of barely contained emotion that shifted from one moment to the next. "Luke, I need to know what's going on. As your friend, and as your second in command here."
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow and looked up at him. "Cage and I can't work together. Okay?"
Wedge inhaled sharply as realization hit him. "You like her."
"No, I do not like her!" Luke shouted indignantly. "She's been the finger of doom for me since she got here! Every time we end up in the same room together, something goes wrong. And then she knows just what to do or say to make everything worse than it already is."
Wedge had to bite back a smile at Luke's words. "Luke, you do, of course, remember what you told me when I asked you if you still had a thing for the Princess, right?"
Luke put his face back in the pillow, groaning, "I'm not in the mood for this, Antilles!"
"You told me," Wedge continued, "that you thought she was more interested in Han. Am I right?"
"What are you getting at?" Luke's muffled voice asked.
"How did you know?" Wedge pressed.
"Know what?"
"That she was more interested in Han than you."
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow again and groaned. "I may be from Tatooine, but I'm not stupid! It's obvious that I'm just a friend, and that with Han there are . . .. well, sparks."
Wedge looked at him sharply. "Because they fight all the time."
The other propped himself up on his elbow and glared back at Wedge. "Don't even think this is the same thing! I don't like her!"
Luke was a study in denial, Wedge thought to himself. Come to think of it, it was probably a good thing Genna had transferred to Green Flight. He didn't know what would happen if she had to fly under Luke's command, given the circumstances. He shrugged at Luke and said, "Whatever you say, Boss. But I suggest you get a better story and pull yourself together. 'Cause the other guys are upset about the whole situation, too, and they're gonna be asking."
He turned and headed out of the room without a backward glance, knowing he'd just left Luke to sort out a whole lot for himself. Good, he laughed. He's supposed to be a leader, so thinking would be good for him.
He just wondered what the outcome would be.
Luke awoke sometime later to a thunderous pain in his head, dizzying waves of nausea, and the overall feeling that he'd been on the wildest drinking binge of his life. Funny, he didn't remember going out drinking. In fact, he didn't remember much of anything. Pressing the heels of his hands against his aching eyes, he struggled to remember what had happened to make him feel so horrible. Faint snatches of memory came back to him. There was a mission; he'd talked to Narra about it. He vaguely remembered that. But then there was nothing. The mission! Had something happened? Had he somehow managed to get amnesia? Was there a mission at all? Where was he anyway?
He forced himself to open his eyes, and blinked at surroundings that were all-too familiar. He was in the medcenter. Again.
"Ugh," Luke groaned. "How did I get back here?"
"'Bout time you woke up," a familiar voice spoke from somewhere off to his left.
Luke turned his head and saw Commander Narra leaning in the doorway. He tried to sit up and muster a dignified greeting. But no sooner had he spoken the words, "Commander," than he had to shut his eyes against the ferocious nausea that brought cold beads of sweat to his forehead.
"Relax," he heard Narra say, a slight hint of amusement in his voice that Luke didn't quite find appropriate. "I'm sure you're feeling pretty terrible right now."
Luke swallowed back the sick feeling and muttered, "You said it." When he felt it was safe once more to open his eyes, he glanced up at Narra. "You mind telling me why I'm in here again?"
"You had a severe and unexpected reaction to pseudonyex, the pain killer you took for your ankle," Narra replied, taking a seat. "Never seen anything like it. And you had the medics here pretty baffled as well. They're still running tests to figure the whole thing out."
"I don't remember any of it," Luke said, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to relieve the sick, tired feeling he had.
Now, there was no mistaking the fact that Narra was trying to hide his amusement. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he looked at Luke guiltily. "That may not be such a bad thing, actually."
Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"
Narra shook his head, desperately trying to suppress a laugh. He refused to speak.
Annoyed at his commander's silence and obvious desire to laugh, Luke demanded, "Tell me." What had possibly happened?
Narra raised his eyebrows at Luke. "If you really want to know."
Luke nodded. After all, how bad could it be?
"Picture a teenage girl," Narra began, and Luke immediately regretted wanting to know. It was going to be bad if Narra was starting out with the words, "teenage girl." Narra continued, "Now give her about fifteen shots of Corellian whiskey . . ."
"Oh, stars," Luke moaned, not wanting him to continue. "You're kidding me, right?"
Narra shook his head. "You were giggling."
Luke shut his eyes, the pain in his head combined with absolute mortification. "How many people saw me?" he asked in a small voice.
"Not many," Narra admitted. "Myself, Antilles, Cage, and the medical staff."
At the mention of Genna's name, Luke's eyes flashed open. "Genna saw me?"
"She brought you here," Narra explained. "And from what she said, you were far from cooperative."
Luke went limp against the pillows. If there was ever a moment that Luke Skywalker truly felt like little Wormie from the deserts of Tatooine, this was it. He could have disappeared for all eternity right then and there, and he would have been perfectly content. He was practically begging for some cosmic anomaly to open up in the floor and swallow him so he wouldn't have to experience the sheer humiliation that was now coursing through him. This was too much to handle. He'd experienced more than his fair share in the past two days, and right now his mind was made up as far as who was to blame. If bad luck truly existed in the universe, then Genna Cage was its official vessel. Since her arrival, he'd been injured, humiliated, laid up in a medical bunk during a Rogue mission. And to think, he'd actually found her attractive!
He shuddered at the image of her in his mind, but the thought and action intensified his already existing nausea. Suddenly, with dread and panic, he groped for the basin at the side of his bed. His body went cold and his stomach rolled, and instantly he was heaving into the basin, utterly embarrassed at his own misfortune and weakness once again but thankful he'd managed to grab it in time without risking further humiliation in front of his commander. When it had at last subsided, he brushed a shaky hand across his damp forehead and sighed.
He felt a towel being placed in his hand and he murmured shakily, "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," a voice that was not Narra's replied.
He glanced up to see Genna standing in the doorway, and immediately his sickness returned. He doubled over the basin once more, retching as his stomach muscles cramped in protest to the abuse. But of course he'd gotten sick again once she'd walked in, he thought dazedly. The woman was cursed!
"I always seem to catch him at his best moments," he heard her remark to Narra.
He wished he could smile sarcastically, but it was difficult in his current situation.
When at last he was finished, he collapsed weakly on the bed and noted that Narra had risen and was talking to Genna.
"I have to admit, the situation hasn't been exactly normal since you've arrived," he was saying. "But, I can assure you, Commander Skywalker here is a fine leader, and one of the best pilots I've ever seen."
Luke was too weak to smile at his comment, but he managed a slight raise of the corners of his mouth to show Narra that his statement was well appreciated.
Narra smiled back at him. "I have to go meet with Alliance command, Luke. But there's a meeting tomorrow, and I'll fill you in on everything."
Luke nodded and watched him leave. Then glancing at Genna, he was surprised to see her sit down on the chair that Narra had just vacated. Why was she hanging around? Couldn't she see she was part of the problem? For crying out loud, she was making him physically ill!
"So," she breathed, trying to sound casual. "I'd ask you how you're feeling, but I think I already know the answer." She grinned and looked at him as though waiting for him to smile at her remark. When he didn't, she shifted, and Luke had the brief satisfaction of seeing her momentarily thrown off balance. "The mission went well though."
Leave it to her to bring that up. He scowled. "Why are you here?" he asked weakly.
Her smile faded. "The boys and I drew lots to see which one of us would come down to check on you."
He tried to make his voice sharp as he replied, "And you lost." It came out with a soft tremble instead. He cursed himself inwardly.
Apparently, Genna had noticed his intent anyway. "You know, I did manage to drag your butt all the way down here, so the least you could do is throw me a little courtesy!"
"No offense," Luke countered, "but ever since you've arrived, everything has come crashing down into a burning heap of smoldering ash. Everything I have worked so hard to achieve is now nothing."
"And how is that?" she snapped back.
He sighed. "I have struggled for two years to earn the respect of the members of my squadron. Don't you get it? I'm a nobody from a backwater planet. I'm a farmer. For months, people thought I just got lucky on that shot back at Yavin! I had to work extra hard to prove that it wasn't luck, that I deserved to be respected. I had to prove that I was worthy of this stupid hero status that had been suddenly thrust upon me without me ever wanting it, or suffer the humiliation of being considered a hack! And ever since you showed up, nothing-Nothing! -has gone right! I've ended up in this very bed twice! I've been humiliated beyond the limits of tolerance! So don't take it personally, but I really want you to leave."
Genna's eyes narrowed at him. "And just what do you mean? Leave the room, or leave the Rebellion?"
Luke was surprised by the amount of hostility he found within himself directed toward this woman. Had he really found her that attractive two days ago? "The second, preferably," he replied. "But I'll settle for the first at this moment."
Genna blanched, then left in a blur of motion.
Luke couldn't really tell, but he thought he saw tears in her eyes as she left. Remorse hit him unexpectedly then. Had he really been so cruel to her? Did she really deserve it?
The pain in his head made concentration difficult, and he resolved to settle the issue when he was fully recovered. Closing his eyes, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
******************
Wedge stormed into the room he shared with the man he often considered his friend, although he was decidedly furious with that man at the moment.
"Luke, you are so dead!" he cried as his eyes fixed upon the figure stretched out across the bottom bunk.
"So I've been frequently told," Luke tonelessly replied.
"How could you have let Genna transfer to Green Flight?" Wedge asked, both angered at the situation as well as Luke's apparent lack of concern.
Luke's reply didn't help much. "Easy."
In response to Luke's monosyllabic response, Wedge advanced, seething at the attitude being displayed. "Are you insane? She's one of the best pilots the Rebellion's got! And you're letting her go to Green Flight?"
"They could use her," Luke answered with a shrug. "We're not as desperate."
Wedge just stood there a moment, not sure whether to shout at him or deck him. The part of his mind that remembered that Luke was his superior officer urged him to go with the former. "Luke, I think you've really lost it this time! You weren't there! You didn't see her go against those Imps! She was a flying goddess up there!"
"Sorry I missed it," Luke remarked sarcastically.
"Luke," Wedge hissed, taking another step toward him, "you don't want to mess with a Corellian who is just itching to hit you right now."
At that, Luke rose, and stared Wedge in the eye. "Go for it! Add just another strike against Luke Skywalker! Hell, I'm getting used to it!"
Wedge was momentarily taken aback by Luke's sudden outburst. "What's gotten into you?"
Luke exhaled in a huff and flopped facedown on the bunk. "Nothing!" he growled into the pillow. "Cage is gone. Just let it be."
"No, I will not let it be," Wedge countered, his temper slightly lessened by his confusion at Luke's behavior. Luke had always been solid, someone they could all count on. He was funny when the guys were tired and upset, he offered himself up as comic relief when things got too serious, and he was serious and commanding when things got out of control. Never had Wedge seen him like this, a roiling pot of barely contained emotion that shifted from one moment to the next. "Luke, I need to know what's going on. As your friend, and as your second in command here."
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow and looked up at him. "Cage and I can't work together. Okay?"
Wedge inhaled sharply as realization hit him. "You like her."
"No, I do not like her!" Luke shouted indignantly. "She's been the finger of doom for me since she got here! Every time we end up in the same room together, something goes wrong. And then she knows just what to do or say to make everything worse than it already is."
Wedge had to bite back a smile at Luke's words. "Luke, you do, of course, remember what you told me when I asked you if you still had a thing for the Princess, right?"
Luke put his face back in the pillow, groaning, "I'm not in the mood for this, Antilles!"
"You told me," Wedge continued, "that you thought she was more interested in Han. Am I right?"
"What are you getting at?" Luke's muffled voice asked.
"How did you know?" Wedge pressed.
"Know what?"
"That she was more interested in Han than you."
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow again and groaned. "I may be from Tatooine, but I'm not stupid! It's obvious that I'm just a friend, and that with Han there are . . .. well, sparks."
Wedge looked at him sharply. "Because they fight all the time."
The other propped himself up on his elbow and glared back at Wedge. "Don't even think this is the same thing! I don't like her!"
Luke was a study in denial, Wedge thought to himself. Come to think of it, it was probably a good thing Genna had transferred to Green Flight. He didn't know what would happen if she had to fly under Luke's command, given the circumstances. He shrugged at Luke and said, "Whatever you say, Boss. But I suggest you get a better story and pull yourself together. 'Cause the other guys are upset about the whole situation, too, and they're gonna be asking."
He turned and headed out of the room without a backward glance, knowing he'd just left Luke to sort out a whole lot for himself. Good, he laughed. He's supposed to be a leader, so thinking would be good for him.
He just wondered what the outcome would be.