Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 10
Popping the canopy of her X-wing, Genna Cage removed her flight helmet and surveyed the hangar with a look of disgust. She didn't like being separated from her squadron, even if she hadn't actually been a part of that squadron for very long. She also didn't like having to ride back to base with the group that had dismissed her so easily. Or more accurately, the man who had dismissed her so easily. She hated to admit, though, that he was probably the person most responsible for saving her life back there.
In a moment of confusion, she'd somehow managed to wind up right in between two TIEs, both of them firing away madly. She'd had time to maneuver out of the way of only one of them, and a blast from the second had caught her Astromech square on its little domed head. The electronic squeal it emitted as it "died" was immediately followed by an even more distressing squeal from her ship. A second blast caught her stabilizer and she had been rocketing out of control when, out of nowhere, one of the Rogue's headhunters raced overhead and took out both TIEs in rapid succession. As the ship came around again, she noted the markings. Rogue Leader.
Grimacing, she realized that if it hadn't been for the Rogues, they'd probably all be dead.
She pulled herself out of the ship and attempted to climb down the side. Her legs, however, were not cooperative, and she ended up coming to a shaky landing on the hangar floor. Her struggle to pilot her damaged craft had apparently taken more out of her than she'd initially thought, and she brushed a trembling hand over a forehead beaded in cold sweat. With the abrupt drop in adrenaline, the effects of her experiences were evident. The damage to her craft had left her badly shaken, and she struggled to get to her feet against a mounting headache and growing nausea.
"You okay?" a voice asked from behind her.
She spun too quickly, and the hangar lurched beneath her unsteady feet. A hand reached out to grab her arm as she focused on the speaker of the question. She nodded to the concerned face of Tycho Celchu. "A little scrambled, but otherwise I'm fine."
Keeping a hand on her arm, he led her away from her craft and toward a stack of crates near the wall of the hangar. Disgusted with herself, she realized that she was actually quite thankful for his help, as her legs threatened to buckle several times en route. By the time she sank down on the nearest crate, she was also thankful for the fact that no one ever seemed able to remove all the crates from any hangar she'd ever been in. Dropping her head to her hands, she concentrated on taking several deep breaths to dispel the aftereffects of her voyage. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was to appear weak before-
"How is she?"
Tired and trembling with fatigue as it was, there was no mistaking that voice. She refused to lift her head, not wanting to face the concerned gaze of Luke Skywalker in her current condition.
"Shaken up pretty badly, but I think she'll be okay," Tycho replied.
There was a pause before Skywalker spoke again. "Her stabilizer was totally gone. Better have her checked for a concussion, just in case."
At that, she rolled her eyes and lifted her head for a moment, intending to give him an "Oh, please," expression. One look at his features changed her mind.
She expected to see the typical farm boy concern she'd seen in him the night she'd spent in his room. Instead, his face was pale and grim. It was the face of a man who'd just lost a friend in combat. It was the face of a man besieged by guilt over his inability to protect every man in his command. It was the face of a man she now realized she only superficially knew. And she was seeing a whole different side to him now.
His eyes did a quick once-over of her before they returned to Tycho. "I have to report to the bridge," Skywalker told him, a profound weariness punctuating his words. "We'll meet in Common Room 74-B in one hour," he added. "Spread the word."
Tycho merely nodded at him, and he and Genna both watched as Luke strode purposefully out of the hangar.
"Must be tough," Tycho sighed beside her.
Genna looked at him and nodded in agreement. "It's never easy to lose someone. Especially when you're in command."
Tycho sat down on the crate next to her and shook his head, his shoulders revealing an almost imperceptible shudder as he did so. "Probably felt his death, too." He paused, giving Genna a chance to process his words. "Tried to explain it to me once, but I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like," he added.
Stiffening, Genna gave Tycho a hard stare. "What do you mean?"
Casting a glance in the direction Luke had just gone, he turned back to her. "He's Force-sensitive," he explained. "Probably would have been a Jedi if there were any left."
She felt her body go cold at his words, even as her heart thudded in her chest. Her eyes were fixed on the door Skywalker had exited through, and her mouth was dry. That man, that man who had saved her life, who had caused her departure from Rogue Squadron, who had stirred feelings in her at their first meeting was Force-sensitive? "Like Vader?" she breathed through dry lips. He'd never mentioned it before.
Tycho's responding laugh was almost mocking. "Luke?" he cried incredulously. "Not a chance. He's probably got as much in common with Vader as I do with a Hutt. Like I said, the guy probably would have been one of those Jedi Knights my dad used to talk about. All robes and lightsabers, and protecting peace and justice. It's a shame they've all been wiped out."
Unable to move, respond, or even swallow, Genna found it impossible to share his opinion. She'd stood in a unit and watched as her commander had been choked to death by Vader, who stood ten feet away. She remembered watching those lips silently pleading, even as his windpipe snapped. Vader had terrified her, terrified her unit. They knew the penalty of displeasing him. Knowing that Luke had the same power-
"He's got a lightsaber, too," Tycho went on, not noticing her distress. "So far, I think Wedge, Hobbie, and that smuggler are the only ones who've seen him practice with it, though. They say it's pretty impressive. Solo said he once took out two bounty hunters just by deflecting their blaster bolts back at them with the blade."
"And that doesn't scare you?" Genna finally managed to ask.
Tycho looked back at her, his expression serious. "Look, I know you and he don't get along. But trust me on this one. He's a good man. I trust him with my life."
"You do?"
"Each and every time I fly with him," he replied.
Genna knew he was telling the truth, but having seen Vader in action, she remained skeptical. After all, that was what gave the Dark Lord his power, too, wasn't it? And he'd used it to destroy her home. She looked at Tycho, and it seemed he was reading her thoughts. Of course, he was Alderaanian, as well. If he trusted Luke, why couldn't she?
He rose and took her hand to help her up. "Let's get you to sickbay to get you checked out," he said, changing the subject.
She nodded, allowing him to help her stand. As he led her out of the hangar, she realized that it was a long trip back to Ithull. She was sure she'd have plenty of time between now and their arrival to study Luke Skywalker. Then, maybe, she would make up her mind about him.
Popping the canopy of her X-wing, Genna Cage removed her flight helmet and surveyed the hangar with a look of disgust. She didn't like being separated from her squadron, even if she hadn't actually been a part of that squadron for very long. She also didn't like having to ride back to base with the group that had dismissed her so easily. Or more accurately, the man who had dismissed her so easily. She hated to admit, though, that he was probably the person most responsible for saving her life back there.
In a moment of confusion, she'd somehow managed to wind up right in between two TIEs, both of them firing away madly. She'd had time to maneuver out of the way of only one of them, and a blast from the second had caught her Astromech square on its little domed head. The electronic squeal it emitted as it "died" was immediately followed by an even more distressing squeal from her ship. A second blast caught her stabilizer and she had been rocketing out of control when, out of nowhere, one of the Rogue's headhunters raced overhead and took out both TIEs in rapid succession. As the ship came around again, she noted the markings. Rogue Leader.
Grimacing, she realized that if it hadn't been for the Rogues, they'd probably all be dead.
She pulled herself out of the ship and attempted to climb down the side. Her legs, however, were not cooperative, and she ended up coming to a shaky landing on the hangar floor. Her struggle to pilot her damaged craft had apparently taken more out of her than she'd initially thought, and she brushed a trembling hand over a forehead beaded in cold sweat. With the abrupt drop in adrenaline, the effects of her experiences were evident. The damage to her craft had left her badly shaken, and she struggled to get to her feet against a mounting headache and growing nausea.
"You okay?" a voice asked from behind her.
She spun too quickly, and the hangar lurched beneath her unsteady feet. A hand reached out to grab her arm as she focused on the speaker of the question. She nodded to the concerned face of Tycho Celchu. "A little scrambled, but otherwise I'm fine."
Keeping a hand on her arm, he led her away from her craft and toward a stack of crates near the wall of the hangar. Disgusted with herself, she realized that she was actually quite thankful for his help, as her legs threatened to buckle several times en route. By the time she sank down on the nearest crate, she was also thankful for the fact that no one ever seemed able to remove all the crates from any hangar she'd ever been in. Dropping her head to her hands, she concentrated on taking several deep breaths to dispel the aftereffects of her voyage. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was to appear weak before-
"How is she?"
Tired and trembling with fatigue as it was, there was no mistaking that voice. She refused to lift her head, not wanting to face the concerned gaze of Luke Skywalker in her current condition.
"Shaken up pretty badly, but I think she'll be okay," Tycho replied.
There was a pause before Skywalker spoke again. "Her stabilizer was totally gone. Better have her checked for a concussion, just in case."
At that, she rolled her eyes and lifted her head for a moment, intending to give him an "Oh, please," expression. One look at his features changed her mind.
She expected to see the typical farm boy concern she'd seen in him the night she'd spent in his room. Instead, his face was pale and grim. It was the face of a man who'd just lost a friend in combat. It was the face of a man besieged by guilt over his inability to protect every man in his command. It was the face of a man she now realized she only superficially knew. And she was seeing a whole different side to him now.
His eyes did a quick once-over of her before they returned to Tycho. "I have to report to the bridge," Skywalker told him, a profound weariness punctuating his words. "We'll meet in Common Room 74-B in one hour," he added. "Spread the word."
Tycho merely nodded at him, and he and Genna both watched as Luke strode purposefully out of the hangar.
"Must be tough," Tycho sighed beside her.
Genna looked at him and nodded in agreement. "It's never easy to lose someone. Especially when you're in command."
Tycho sat down on the crate next to her and shook his head, his shoulders revealing an almost imperceptible shudder as he did so. "Probably felt his death, too." He paused, giving Genna a chance to process his words. "Tried to explain it to me once, but I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like," he added.
Stiffening, Genna gave Tycho a hard stare. "What do you mean?"
Casting a glance in the direction Luke had just gone, he turned back to her. "He's Force-sensitive," he explained. "Probably would have been a Jedi if there were any left."
She felt her body go cold at his words, even as her heart thudded in her chest. Her eyes were fixed on the door Skywalker had exited through, and her mouth was dry. That man, that man who had saved her life, who had caused her departure from Rogue Squadron, who had stirred feelings in her at their first meeting was Force-sensitive? "Like Vader?" she breathed through dry lips. He'd never mentioned it before.
Tycho's responding laugh was almost mocking. "Luke?" he cried incredulously. "Not a chance. He's probably got as much in common with Vader as I do with a Hutt. Like I said, the guy probably would have been one of those Jedi Knights my dad used to talk about. All robes and lightsabers, and protecting peace and justice. It's a shame they've all been wiped out."
Unable to move, respond, or even swallow, Genna found it impossible to share his opinion. She'd stood in a unit and watched as her commander had been choked to death by Vader, who stood ten feet away. She remembered watching those lips silently pleading, even as his windpipe snapped. Vader had terrified her, terrified her unit. They knew the penalty of displeasing him. Knowing that Luke had the same power-
"He's got a lightsaber, too," Tycho went on, not noticing her distress. "So far, I think Wedge, Hobbie, and that smuggler are the only ones who've seen him practice with it, though. They say it's pretty impressive. Solo said he once took out two bounty hunters just by deflecting their blaster bolts back at them with the blade."
"And that doesn't scare you?" Genna finally managed to ask.
Tycho looked back at her, his expression serious. "Look, I know you and he don't get along. But trust me on this one. He's a good man. I trust him with my life."
"You do?"
"Each and every time I fly with him," he replied.
Genna knew he was telling the truth, but having seen Vader in action, she remained skeptical. After all, that was what gave the Dark Lord his power, too, wasn't it? And he'd used it to destroy her home. She looked at Tycho, and it seemed he was reading her thoughts. Of course, he was Alderaanian, as well. If he trusted Luke, why couldn't she?
He rose and took her hand to help her up. "Let's get you to sickbay to get you checked out," he said, changing the subject.
She nodded, allowing him to help her stand. As he led her out of the hangar, she realized that it was a long trip back to Ithull. She was sure she'd have plenty of time between now and their arrival to study Luke Skywalker. Then, maybe, she would make up her mind about him.