Four
I hear the faint cussing again. Seems a little inarticulate, but definitely angry. I guess I need to take the risk and see where it's coming from. Drawing the small officer's blaster my mother left me when she died, I walk over to the other side of the box and climb out. At fist, all I see are the charred remains of At and Winters. Then a soft rustling sound catches my attention. I bring the blaster pistol up and aim it at whatever caused the noise.
"Whoa, girlie, are we nervous today or what?" Tarkker; I should have known. And, by the looks of it, he is relatively unscathed. Bastard.
"What are you doing here?" Okay. Dumbest question of the year.
"Enjoying the sunlight and the breeze with a drink in my hand. Holy shit, what the fuck do you think I'm doing here?" I guess I deserved that. As we exchange words, I notice that my pistol is still pointed at his head. I guess I'd be pissed as well, if I was in his position.
I lower the pistol, and my arm thanked me for it. That thing is heavy! "Are you hurt?"
He shrugs. "Not much...not like it's your concern anyway." Of course it is, mister.
"Yes, it is. Now, get to the other side of the box and tell Xanas I'm looking for a splint. And see that he stays awake. He lost some blood, and I don't want him to go into shock." Whoa, where did that come from? I actually sound like a soldier all of a sudden.
"Wait a minute, Queenie… who put you in charge, huh?" Tarkker obviously is not thrilled at my sudden development of a backbone.
"We can discuss authority issues later. What I need now is a splint and someone to keep Xanas alive. That shouldn't be too much to ask, even for you." Whoa. I guess surviving a crash like that and taking care of wounds like Xanas' does something to a person. I'm not sure if I like this, though.
"Okay, listen up, you stupid bitch…"
"Is there… a problem… Tarkker?" Both of us snap around to look at a heavily panting Xanas leaning against the cockpit wall. On his forehead, sweat is glistening, and his face is ashen and grey. Dammit.
Without giving any more attention to Tarkker, I rush over to Xan. Draping his arm over my shoulder, I mutter: "That was a very stupid thing to do, Private. How do you expect me to haul your sorry ass back to the camp in one piece if you keep on ruining my work?"
He says nothing, just grins a little slurred. Then: "Sorry… Mel. Just… can't stand seeing a woman getting insulted."
I huff. "I swear, one day Xanas Farrayn III., your chivalrous attitude will get you killed. Or at least severely injured." I lower him down to the ground, my injured wrist protesting all the while. I can feel him tensing up, and I can't help tensing up as well. I really don't want to hurt him anymore, regardless of what I liked to think at times before this whole ordeal began.
"Yeah, if this here doesn't kill me first." I pause. I know he meant it as a joke, but I feel dread building up in my stomach. What if he really doesn't survive this? Or anyone else? Gods, Melara, get a grip on yourself, for Heaven's sake. Your mother would be ashamed of you.
Taking a deep breath, I frown at him and say: "Stop talking nonsense, soldier, or I'll have a closer look at your leg. Now stay here while I deal with Tarkker, alright?"
He looks up at me, smirking: "Yes, Ma'am."
Rolling my eyes, I turn around and return to Tarkker who's still standing on the other side of the box, glaring at me. Good grief, we're all on the same side, right? "So… you up for a little babysitting while I take care of our little problem here? Or do you need medical assistance?"
I swear, the sneer was totally unintended. I just couldn't help it. He gives me another dirty look. "Not of the kind of 'medical assistance' you Army women like to offer. But thanks anyway." Bastard. Slimy, obnoxious, abhorrent bastard. There's only one way to counter this: Totally ignore it.
"Fine. Go help Private Farrayn, and start getting settled. See if you can get a fire running, but make sure no one can see it. I'll see if there's anything still useful lying around here in the meantime." He snorts and lets his gaze wander over my body. Like he's undressing me with his eyes or something. Good grief.
"I don't see no bars or stripes on your uniform. So you're still the little screw-up with tits you were before we crashed." I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but I'm actually tempted to reach for my blaster and point it at his head again. Not set at stun. And certainly not by accident. Gritting my teeth, I will myself to take my hand back from the holster.
"Look, I'm not ordering you around." Lying again. And so blatantly. Shame on you, Melara. "All I'm saying is that Private Farrayn needs someone to look after him while I take care of my injuries. And seeing as you're the only one around besides me, you get the job by default." I'm losing patience here really fast, and at the moment I want nothing more than to get away from the guy and into a nice quiet corner where no one will ever find me. But seeing as that isn't going to happen anytime soon, I desperately cling to every bit of patience I have left.
"Go do your dressing or whatever you need to do. But you ain't callin' the shot's here Queenie. You got that?" Stupid asshole. See if I care.
"Do whatever you want. But be prepared for taking over the first watch. We need to look out for Tusken Raiders and Imps." With that I turn around to go… somewhere, far away from that bastard who's got the nerve to treat me like that. And I also don't want anyone around when I finally sit down to look at my wrist, because I'm sure I'll look ridiculous.
"You know, you can't stay awake forever." he says, but I continue staring out at the endless dunes, saying nothing. In the distance, we can see Tarkker's silhouette against the starry sky. "He's still one of us, Mel." I wonder if he'd still say that if he had seen how Tarkker looked at me an hour ago. Suppressing a shiver, I hunch over a little more. Just our luck that there's nothing lying around with which you could built a fire.
"That doesn't make him any less dangerous, Xan."
He coughs, then sighs. "Dangerous? Mel, he's one of the good guys, remember? We are the good guys. Sure, he's a bastard, but he's a bastard on our side. Why is it you don't trust him?"
Because he's a lecherous idiot who's just waiting for his chance to get his dirty fingers on me and show me what women in the Army really deserve in his opinion. "Because I just have the feeling that he's not necessarily here for the same reasons we are."
He closes his eyes and leans back on the box. Shouldn't he go to sleep or something? "And what are those reasons? Mel, we already established that my being here is the result of a belated puberty. What are your reasons? Your mother?"
From one second to another, I'm wide awake. I jerk up-right, looking at him all alert now. "What do you know about my mother, Farrayn?"
He opens his eyes again and looks directly at me. His eyes catch the starlight as he stares, and he says softly, "Not much more than the camp grapevine is saying. She was a fleet Captain, some kind of hero. Died in an ambush, went down with her ship. From that I figured…"
"Oh, you "figured". From some half-assed rumors? And because of that you know about all my reasons for joining. I bow to your genius, Private." Why in all the Heavens can't I just stay calm when it's about my mother? Or when someone hits dead on target, and I just don't want to admit it. Besides, that was really mean, even considering it's Xanas – bane of my existence – sitting there. He's wounded, and he lost a lot of blood, and I've got no right to go all plasma grenade on him like that. But it's out, and taking it back wouldn't make it undone anyway.
"Jen… I didn't say that to insult you or
anything. I wanted to ask if what I figured was true. I know you're
giving all your strength to cope with the situation, and as far as I
can tell, you're doing okay. I just want you to stop wracking your
mind about things 24/7 and start to relax a little. You won't do
much good if you stay awake all the time, thinking about what you
need to do and what might happen. So… humor the Private who was
stupid enough to get himself all burned up and go take your turn to
rest. Please?"
He's actually asking me for something. Knowing him, it cost him some of his pride to do that. Xanas Farrayn III, who always gets everything he wants with just a smile and few nice words – more so if his opposite is female – sinking down to actually asking for something… And me desperately wanting to give in his urgings… Just shows how screwed up both of us are right now.
I sigh. "Fine. Yes, my mother was a Captain with the Alliance Navy. Yes, her ship was ambushed. Yes, she went down with it, making sure most of her crew got away safely. No, I didn't join because I thought I needed to prove something." Now lying to a wounded comrade. Melara, how far down are you going to sink here?
"Then why did you join?" Why do I still feel like he doesn't believe me? Oh, right, because even I don't believe myself.
"It's complicated… On Chandrila, democracy is everything. I dare say it's not a coincidence that our leader is a Chandrilan of all peoples. We are raised to firmly believe in it, and defend it at blasterpoint if necessary. So when the Empire started invading my planet step by step, I… I wanted to do something. I joined there, and I trained there, and then I was sent to Tatooine. And now I'm trying to prevent the Empire from doing what they did to my world or Ghorman or Alderaan. As a simple Private. Way to go, Melara." I'm a bit surprised at myself, because the last part sounded like I meant that more for myself than for Xanas.
He seems to have noticed it himself, because he strains to lift his hand up and puts it on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it. For a while, neither of us says anything. Then: "Mel?"
I turn to him. "Mhm?"
"She'd be proud of you." I close my eyes and lean my forehead against my rifle. I know he didn't mean to insult me or anything, but I just heard that phrase a little too often to actually believe people weren't mocking me or using it as a careless cliché.
"Yeah, whatever." I hear him take a deep breath again to reply something, but I cut him short by saying: "You're already past your bedtime, Private. Don't make me have to beat you to sleep. Or drug you."
"Same goes for you, Private.", he says, but is eyes are already closed. When I check a little while later, he's already breathing as evenly as a badly wounded man can breathe while asleep. Hoping to the Gods, that he will wake in the morning, I settle in for one of the longest nights of my life.
A/N: Okay, so it's been a while since the last up-date. But here it is. Please enjoy. And do tell me what you thought of it (watched the BBC-version of "Pride and Prejudice" yesterday which always screws up my writing...). Pretty please?
