Hello, everyone! I'm back, and with a 7,000 word chapter! OMG! I really didn't think that this chapter would be so long... it was supposed to be, like, 4,000 or 5,000 words, but here we are! Enjoy the chapter.
Also, I need your guys' advice on something, so if you could leave a review, that would help me a ton! The question is at the bottom of the page. Thanks!
They ran without thinking, taking whatever turn was convenient as long as it led farther away from the auction house and their pursuers. Chewie, being carried by both Lando and Leia, was unconscious. The imperial officer began to shift around, groaning as Hobbes struggled to keep carrying him.
Eventually, the blaring of imperial alarms became distant, and the four of them stopped in a secluded rectangular clearing, concrete in color with one side fitted with a railing, to catch their breath Glancing over it, Hobbes' breath hitched at seeing the hundred foot drop to the street below. Unslinging the imperial, he unceremoniously dumped the man against a wall, and walked towards Lando and Leia. They were in the process of examining the Wookie, who was still unconscious and lying on the ground. Reaching into her jacket, Leia brought out a few medical items, and opened a package of bacta salve, which Hobbes took advantage of to soothe his own blaster wound. She began to brush aside fur, and rubbed a bacta-covered hand on what Hobbes guessed was Chewie's wound. A second later, the metallic scent of blood reached him, confirming his thoughts.
"How's he looking?" Hobbes asked, stepping near, and stopped at seeing a large, bloody gash on Chewie's back, along with charred fur all across his body. "He's not looking good," Leia said, "but he'll recover as long as we get him to the Falcon soon." Looking over, she said, "Your prisoner's coming around."
Hobbes turned around towards the imperial, who was clutching at his wounded head with both hands, and hefted his carbine. Behind him, he heard Leia say, "Lando, take Chewie's commlink and call 3po. Explain our situation, and tell him to have medical equipment ready once we get back."
"You got it," Lando replied, just as the imperial looked up at him. Hobbes shifted so that the tip of the blaster barrel was facing in his direction- a warning. In response, the man looked around at all of them, and then back at Hobbes. He frowned, reaching a hand back up to caress his head, and ignored him, preferring to stare at the other end of the railing. Frowning back at the man, Hobbes was about to address Leia when, not far off in the sky, an Imperial gunship hovered into view over the distant buildings, searching for them. The man looked over and Hobbes quickly said, "Don't try anything."
With a huff, the man continued to give Hobbes nothing but silence. He didn't move. A few seconds later, the gunship disappeared again.
"Alright, 3po- thanks. We'll be there within the hour," Lando said. "See you then." Turning off the commlink, he walked over to Hobbes. "So what's this all about?" he asked, his tone and his eyes conveying his anger. Behind him, Leia approached, not looking too happy herself. "Why did you suddenly run back for- for this guy? Chewie's badly hurt because of your-"
"Let me explain," Hobbes said, turning halfway around so as to keep a watch on the imperial. "As of right now, we know nothing. We don't know where Calvin is, where he's going, how they knew we were coming, nothing. But just take a look at his rank, right there on his chest."
Following his request, Leia and Lando looked, whereupon Leia's face turned to one of surprise and understanding. The anger melted out of his eyes. "He's an assistant supervisor."
"Exactly!" Hobbes said. "Helper to one of the main supervisors of the whole ISB! He has to be the one in charge of this whole operation. He would know where they're taking Calvin, how they knew about our own plan to get him, the deal with Boba Fett…"
"Why would an assistant ISB supervisor be so close to the actual operation? Of course, they're assistants, but they're still very high-ranking. Don't they usually have other people out in the field so that they don't risk their own necks?" Lando asked.
"No idea why he was out here," Hobbes shrugged. "I mean, I suppose they didn't know about Chewie or his explosive bowcaster. Wookies aren't a very galaxy-wide species. But that's not important! What is important is that we have a supervisor, and that through him we're gonna find out where Calvin is going, and anything else that we might want to know."
"And if he lies?" Lando asked.
"Well, we don't have to ask him directly," Hobbes said, and walked over to the supervisor. Grabbing his shoulder with one paw, he yanked a datapad, clipped to a belt on the man's uniform, straight off, and handed it to Leia. The man, unexpectedly, tried to lunge for the device, but his action was quickly repelled by Hobbes, who shoved him back onto the ground. The next second, Lando's blaster was covering him. Hobbes handed the datapad to Leia. "Do you think that our cryptographers can decode this?" he asked. "This datapad should have everything we want to know. His orders, where Calvin is going…"
"They could, but it would take months, maybe a year," Leia shook her head. "That's an ISB datapad. They're going to have that thing locked down as tight as The Citadel. You'd need to put in a passcode and who knows what else."
"Then it's a good thing that we have the one guy who knows the password right here with us," Hobbes said, and walked up to the supervisor. Tapping the screen of the datapad, he looked at the request that popped up, and said, "Here. Open it up."
"No."
Frowning, Hobbes handed the datapad to Leia, and, turning back around, slammed the man into the wall behind him. He lifted the choking supervisor up against it, holding him by the throat, the rough texture of the surface scraping and tearing the back of the man's suit, and snarled, "What. Is. The. Password?"
It was all the supervisor could do to choke out, "I'll tell you nothing, you animal."
For a moment, Hobbes kept him there, staring into his eyes- his fear-filled eyes- and then looked over at the railing with its hundred-foot drop. Using his other paw, he swung the man over it by his upper arm, and quickly lowered him down as far as he could go. Always a good intimidation tactic. The supervisor let out a scream, his legs kicking and dangling, and Hobbes said, "Either you tell me the password and I let you live, or I let you die and we find another way to open this. Choose. Choose now!"
"I-I-It's a two-step process!" the supervisor wailed. "First voice activation, then a password! Let me up and I'll do it!"
"Leia," he said, lifting the man up to eye level. A second later, Leia was there with the datapad, and held it out to the man with both hands. The supervisor spoke into it, and he was surprised to hear Mando'a, the language of the Mandalorians. The datapad beeped cheerfully, and Hobbes said, "Now the password. And you'd better get it right the first time, because if it locks us out or alerts someone to our location, you're dead meat."
The supervisor seemed to have regained some of his lost nerve. Breathing shakily, he muttered, "The ISB will discharge me…"
In response, Hobbes let go of his upper arm, the supervisor screaming as he fell, only to immediately grab him again by the wrist.
"Oh yeah?" he asked.
"The password is Yirt, Aurec, Krill, Mern, Usk, Trill, Ypsillon, Efrago, Aurec, Cherec, Space."
As the supervisor said the Aurebesh characters, Leia quickly typed them in, and held up the datapad to the supervisor. "This is it?" she asked, and after a moment of scrutiny, he nodded. Entering the passcode, Leia watched as the screen immediately changed, filling with text.
"I'm in," she breathed. "There's a whole treasure of information here!"
"Good. Let's write that password down somewhere. Lando, hand me Chewie's commlink. I need to talk to 3po."
"Here," Lando said, handing the commlink to Hobbes. A minute later, Hobbes held the commlink up to the supervisor, and said, "Say that Mando'a phrase again and be quick about it. My arm's getting tired."
The supervisor took a second, and then said, "Darasuum Akka-"
"That's not it," Lando said. "I've picked up a smattering of Mando'a words. You said something along the lines of, "Desperate, the bearer lifts the flag. Get it right."
Hobbes growled, and the supervisor swallowed hard. He muttered, "Aikiyc, li cabur aranare Li Alii'gai."
Checking with 3po and Lando that the phrase was correct, Hobbes nodded and returned the datapad. Then, he swung the supervisor back over the railing, and deposited him on the ground. "Alright, we're done here. We've got the password and a recording of his voice. What do we do with him, Leia?"
"Grab him and take him with us on the ship," Leia said. "Lock him up, and we'll give him to interrogation once we get back. If you don't mind knocking him out, Hobbes?"
"What?" the supervisor asked, when the butt of Hobbes' carbine slammed into his temple. He crumpled, and Leia said, "Carry him, Hobbes. We'll grab Chewie, and get to the falcon."
"Yaay," Hobbes muttered, picking the unconscious supervisor up and throwing him back over his shoulder, grimacing as his blaster wound screamed in protest. As he began walking after Lando and Leia, he said, "You know, I think you guys underestimate my strength when it comes to carrying people."
The Millenium Falcon, like the ships surrounding it, was parked inside of a large, fenced-in area to prevent theft or vandalism, its electric fence usually being enough to dissuade most miscreants from trying. It was a slight difficulty to get the ISB supervisor and Chewie through the gate inside, despite having wrapped the former in Hobbes' cloak to hide his suspicious uniform. After some arguing and fumbling to verify their reservation for the parking spot, the guard in the booth conceded and allowed them entrance, still giving the supervisor and the wookie a skeptical glance.
They hurried onward, worried for Chewie's worsening state. The wound on his side had reopened somewhat, and dark cherry blood was staining his fur. A few times, he let out a painful groan, each one increasing their anxiety tenfold.
He's losing a lot of blood, Hobbes thought, as they navigated the cluttered maze of ships and light poles, which cast a yellow, eerie light on the whole parking yard. I hope that doesn't become infected.
As they walked towards the Falcon, the ramp lowered for them with a familiar hiss of steam, and a golden shape appeared in the doorway as they walked up. "Welcome back, Princess Leia," 3po chirped. "And you as well, Mister Calrissian and- oh, goodness, you've been shot! You both require immediate medical attention."
"Help us patch up Chewie first," Leia said, lowering the moaning wookie onto the floor of the cargo bay. "Lando, get me the charred wroshyr powder- we need to stop the bleeding. 3po, get me a syringe and some opirin. Hobbes, erm… you can lock the supervisor in the closet in the storage room. I don't think we're using it for anything. Bind his hands, and make sure that he doesn't have anything on his person."
"Aye, aye," Hobbes nodded, and walked over to the other side of the cargo bay to grab a pair of binders. Clapping them on the man's wrists, he carried him out of the bay, almost colliding with 3po who was coming back with the syringe and the opirin, a mild sedative and painkiller. He reached the closet, and opened it. After throwing out a few random items inside, he lowered the imperial onto the ground, rumbling unpleasantly at the stinging of his blaster wound. He quickly searched both the pockets of the cloak and the man's own coat and pants, removing a few items on his belt. The man shifted, groaning, his eyes opening halfway. For a second he seemed confused, then remembrance crept into his face. Taking one last look, Hobbes shut the metal doors and pressed a button on one side. The light on the left door turned from green to red, which was accompanied by a satisfying click.
"Oi! Let me out!"
Ignoring the supervisors demands and the metaling bumping of the closet (which was attached to the wall anyway), he walked back to the cargo bay. 3po was just coming back with some bandages, and Hobbes could see Lando recapping the tiny flask of opirin. "Anything I can do?" he asked, standing by the hallway that he had just come from.
"Yes," Lando said. "If you can whip up some crackers and Mon Cala crab paste for all of us, that would be splendid."
"In terms of helping Chewie," Leia added, helpfully, "we've got it covered. He'll live. We just need to get him into his bunk, so if you'll help us carry him?"
"Yeah, sure," Hobbes nodded.
"And those crackers will have to wait," Leia said. "Let's get off of this planet-" she spoke the word like one would say 'disease'- "- and make sure that the datapad isn't bugged or trying to transmit a tracking signal to the ISB. Then we can talk over crackers."
After wrapping Chewie up in bandages and lowering him into his bunk, the four of them split, Leia and Lando strapping in to fly them out of here, Hobbes and 3po scanning the datapad for any compromising technology. With care, Hobbes took the datapad and placed it under the scanner, making sure that it was perfectly centered. Activating the portable machine, he leaned against the wall of the cargo bay and waited for it to spit out a scanning result, his thoughts clouded and unfocused… sort of. He was mainly thinking about their failure to rescue Calvin- it had seemed so straightforward, and yet…
"Excuse me, Hobbes?"
"Yeah?" he asked, looking over at 3po.
"I would like to inquire about a strange conversation that I had with Calvin before we landed on Bespin."
The words brought a lump of sadness to the back of Hobbes' throat. The mere mention of Calvin when he was still unfrozen brought forth fond memories and images, and he blinked away a tear that gathered in his eye. A beep alerted him to the fact that the scan was complete, and he moved over to the machine. "Sure," he said. "Go ahead."
"Well, the conversation happened while we were stuck in the asteroid field, actually. Oh, what a frightening ordeal! Anyway, I walked into the cargo bay to tell Captain Solo that I had managed to reverse the negative power flux coupling on the ship, and when he and Princess Leia left, Calvin ran in and gave me an invitation."
"An invitation?" Hobbes asked as he read the results of the scan. A few possibly hazardous bits of tech. He set the scanner to a higher resolution, and pressed the button again. He wanted to take no chances with this thing. Around him, the ship rumbled and the room shifted slightly as the Falcon lifted off of the landing pad.
"Yes," 3po said. "An invitation to 'Gross.'"
Hobbes stood still for a minute. Then, he turned around and said, "What?"
"Erm, yes," 3po said. "He invited me into Gross, whatever that is, and gave me a badge. He also said something about slimy girls, but to be honest, I haven't the slightest idea as to what he was talking about, so I thought I'd better ask…" 3po looked up at Hobbes, who had gone from silent to chuckling. After a moment, his chuckling turned to full-blown laughter.
"Calvin gave you a G.R.O.S.S membership badge?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Yes, I lost it on Cloud City. I have no idea why…" 3po stopped as Hobbes began laughing again, slapping his knee. His shoulders rocked as he doubled over. "Oh, G.R.O.S.S… best club in the co-osmos…!" Straightening, he grabbed 3po's hand and shook it heartily. "Welcome to the club!"
Thirty minutes later, the falcon had entered hyperspace without a problem; the false security codes had worked flawlessly in getting them off of Coruscant. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen for a meeting. After scanning the datapad, Hobbes had found a piece inside that was attempting to use the falcon's message and target locating system to send out a tracking signal. Luckily, the falcon's systems weren't allowing the sneaky piece of tech to do so. To be on the safe side, he told Leia to have a small corvette meet them away from the rest of the fleet with equipment to get rid of the tracking piece, since that falcon didn't have the necessary tools to do so. Leia agreed, and she was now sitting at the counter, swiping through the datapad as they all snacked on crackers and seafish paste. Occasionally, they could hear banging coming from down the hall, but paid it little mind.
"Alright, here's the plan," Leia said. "Most of the information on this datapad is encrypted, so we are going to link up with a corvette away from the fleet and give the datapad to them. We don't know where Calvin is going, what's going to happen to him, or why the imperials want him. And I'm afraid that we can't do anything to rescue Calvin until we decrypt a few of these locked messages and files."
"How long will it take?" Hobbes asked.
"Not months, thankfully," Leia said. "I checked with our cryptography team when I contacted the fleet- they say that they can crack it in one or two days."
"So, basically we just sit around and wait for now?" Lando asked.
"Yes, basically."
Hobbes sighed, his brow knit. Calvin was somewhere, probably on his way to get tortured at some secret prison, and they couldn't do anything. He wanted to help his best friend… and he knew that they were on a time limit. If Cavin spilled the beans and gave up the purpose of the DART (and given enough time, torture would make him crack), then there was no telling what the Empire would do once they had their hands on the mechanism. Hopefully, though, they'd keep Calvin alive for when they obtained the DART. It would make sense to have someone who knew how to fix it.
Hobbes shuddered, picturing Imperial forces marching across alternate universes. The chaos they might cause. The-
"Hobbes," Leia said, forcefully.
"What?" he asked, irritated.
"I asked, do you know why the empire would want Calvin? You're his best friend, after all."
Hobbes never was very good with lies. He could fib about things to Calvin just fine- he could fib to most people, in fact, but he found it much harder to tell a lie to his closest friends when the matter was one of grave importance. He couldn't tell them about the DART, obviously; that would raise more questions than he wanted to answer, and he didn't want anybody in this universe to know that there was interdimensional travel. He'd have to be inconspicuous about his answer.
"Uh, I have no idea," he said. "I mean, Calvin is a Rebel, y'know? So maybe they think that Calvin knows where the- the fleet is. Or where we're going next, I mean."
Hobbes, you idiot! That was not inconspicuous! What are you thinking?
Leia frowned at the floor and muttered, "But it still doesn't add up. The empire just… gave Calvin over to Boba Fett. And now they've asked for Fett to give him back. The ISB isn't stupid. We know that they know that the Rebel fleet changes position. It doesn't stay in one place."
"Perhaps it has something to do with the machine in the cargo hold," 3po mused, quite innocently. Hobbes choked on his cracker.
"What machine?" Leia asked.
"Oh, well, I noticed that there was a machine stored in the compartment under the cargo hold. I went to ask Chewbacca about it, and he told me that Calvin had asked Captain Solo to transport the machine off of Hoth, onto the Rebel Fleet."
"Oh, that?" Hobbes suddenly said, still coughing slightly. "Well that's just an invention that Calvin was working on. I don't know how it works, but I know that it's a starfighter engine. If we got it to work, uh, our starfighters could have a huge advantage over the empire. Maybe that's what the Empire wants Calvin for."
"Wait, Calvin designed an entirely new starfighter engine by himself?" Lando asked.
"Um, yeah," Hobbes nodded. "He's a lot smarter than he looks. I know."
"Why didn't he put it on one of our cargo transports?" Leia asked. Hobbes saw her eyes narrow, just slightly.
"Well, he was really attached to his invention. It took him a long time to build, y'know? And he wanted to go with Han, anyway, so he asked him to transport it on the Falcon."
"Sounds like an interesting invention," Leia remarked. "Do you mind showing me later?
"Sure. I mean, it's just a prototype… it's not finished at all, and I don't really know how it works. I was just… helping him."
Inwardly, he facepalmed. He wasn't doing a very good job at lying, judging from the expression on Leia's face. Well, there wasn't really any expression, but she was looking at him. Or was she? 3po was standing right by him- maybe she was looking at him. But why would she look at him? She wasn't frowning, he noted, but she wasn't smiling either. She was just… watching. Him? She wasn't ignorant or stupid, he knew that. Jeez. Even after years of knowing her, she could still intimidate him.
Get a hold of yourself- she's not even looking at you anymore.
"Hey," Lando suddenly said, "do you know if Skywalker can make it back in time for this next rescue attempt?"
Everyone looked at him for a second, and Hobbes knew what they were all thinking: 'Why do you want to know?' He himself wasn't excluded. Ever since he had discovered that Lando had double-crossed Han and the rest on Cloud City, he had been rather wary of him, although he never showed it. After they had escaped, Lando had wanted to join the Rebellion, and prove himself trustworthy. That was one of the reasons why he was on this mission.
…Which had just failed. Due to Imperial intervention. No wonder everyone was looking at him.
Luke, he suspected, wouldn't make it back in time.. As soon as he had gotten a new robotic hand to replace the cut off stump inflicted by Darth Vader, he had taken R2-D2 and vanished. He claimed that he needed to hunt for a Kyber Crystal to build a new lightsaber- the one given to him by Obi-Wan he had lost on Cloud City- but Hobbes knew that he also just needed some time to sort out all the emotions in him. Something must have happened during his Cloud City duel that had shaken the young Jedi. He could see it in his face the moment he visited him in the fleet's medical bay, and it definitely wasn't good. He had commented on his unfocused, thinking manner, but Luke had simply deflected it with a laugh and a comment of his own.
"I don't think so," Leia said after a second. "He said that his quest would take a couple of months. It's barely been just one."
Lando nodded, and reached for another cracker. Hobbes' own gaping hunger from earlier had seemingly vanished, and he wanted to get out of the meeting more than anything else at that moment.
Lucky for him, Leia stood up. "Alright. Since we can't do anything more, let's focus on decrypting this datapad. "3po, monitor the data pad, and tell me if it manages to get out a signal. We don't want to be suddenly ambushed at the meeting point,"
"Cool. I'm going to hit the sack," Hobbes said, taking a step out of the kitchen, when Leia said, "Wait."
"Yeah?"
"I'd like to talk to you for a minute before you go. Could you walk with me?"
"No problem," Hobbes nodded, careful to keep his face neutral.
"Over here," Leia said, and walked into the hallways of the ship. Hobbes followed, anxious to get this over with. He expected an interrogation- Leia demanding to know what the DART was really for and stuff like that. They stopped in the hallway, by the door to the sleeping quarters, and Leia turned and faced Hobbes. "Okay, Hobbes, look. I know that you're lying."
"Me? Lying?" Hobbes asked. "About what?"
"Don't try to hide it. Your tail agrees with me."
Hobbes looked behind him, lifting up his tail. His bushy tail. Dang it.
"That's just because of Calvin," he said. "I'm very worried for him."
"No doubt. We all are," Leia nodded. "But this isn't about Calvin."
Hobbes frowned. He didn't know what to say, because everything Leia was telling him so far was true.
"Listen," Leia said, "we all have secrets. A part of ourselves that we want to hide, things we did that we wish we didn't, and I don't like prying into yours and Calvin's privacy, especially since I have no doubts that both of you are true Rebels, and my friends as far as I'm concerned. And I don't think for one second that all of this has got to do with insubordination or anything like that."
Hobbes nodded, but stayed silent.
"I have a feeling that your machine, which I don't think is any sort of starfighter engine, has something to do with the reason for the Empire's interest in Calvin. And it must be something big, now that the ISB is interested."
You have no idea.
"And here's something else… I don't know if Rebel command is going to be willing to launch another rescue mission."
"What?" Hobbes asked, alarmed.
"Command was already uncertain about launching this rescue mission, Hobbes. And as of now, they have no good reason to expend more resources on another. With the Empire's increased surveillance, we're having to use everything we've got. Don't get me wrong- I want to rescue Calvin too, but I need a good reason to give to command. Whatever he knows… that could be it!"
"No, I can't," Hobbes said, shaking his head.
"Think about it," Leia pleaded. "If they torture Calvin, we might rescue him too late, and the Empire will have your secret all the same. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't hold it against you."
"Pretty big promise there," Hobbes said. "But if I told you, I don't think that any of you guys or the Rebellion would ever forgive me… or Calvin."
Leia frowned, and for a second Hobbes thought she was going to keep pressing him. But then she said, "Alright. It's your choice. But think about what I said."
As she walked away, Hobbes said nothing. Leia was correct, of course. The rebellion didn't orchestrate a rescue mission for just any one person. That would be a gross misallocation of resources… Calvin would be tortured. He would hold out, of course- Hobbes knew that Calvin wasn't about to give everything up, but eventually he would give in. If Hobbes just admitted it, it would make everything go faster- it would make Calvin's rescue an immediate concern. To just say, I'm from another universe…
"No," Hobbes shook his head sadly. He knew that he could never bear to see the hurt and shock on his friends' faces if he told them the truth- and if the truth got out in the Rebellion, the outcome would be the same. The Rebellion would interrogate him and Calvin anyway, and would want to use the DART to destroy the Empire, just as the Empire would want to destroy them. Leia, he knew, wouldn't understand it. She would want the Rebellion to succeed, and here was a wonder-weapon to do so!
But what if she did understand? Perhaps he wasn't trusting her enough. Her judgment, he knew, was sound, and she would have to see the horrible disaster that was anyone in this galaxy using the DART to travel to and from different universes.
For a while Hobbes sat there, alone, until he finally sighed and went to get some sleep. Maybe then he could clear his mind and figure a way out of this mess.
Calvin couldn't remember being thawed, but he felt the aftereffects quite painfully.
His head felt like it was microwaved, buzzing and burning. His eyes itched, and his jaw trembled from the shock of sudden consciousness. Shivering, he tried to crack his eyelids open, but was immediately met with a searing sensation that forced him to close them. For a while, he shivered, not hearing nor seeing anything, until his body finally recovered from the jumpstart and he fell asleep.
He dreamed of stars; stars forming, collapsing from their own gravity, black holes tearing rips in the fabric of the universe. He had no body, it seemed, and so floated through space as nothing. Around him were the remains of a supernova, freshly bound elements creating carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, magnesium. As Calvin watched, all of these elements began to come together, forming a humanoid shape. Arms, legs, head, torso, until finally, Calvin saw himself, made out of the remains of a star.
He had no clue what it meant, or if it was supposed to mean anything at all. And before he could ponder it, he felt something tugging at him. His reality stretched, and he realized that he had crossed the event horizon of a black hole. Unable to move, to stop, to scream, he became as thin as a strand of spaghetti, then as thin as a hair. And then he woke up.
When he did, his first thought was that being sucked into a black hole was a pretty good comparison to how he felt.
"Unngh," he mumbled, and tried to open his eyelids. They didn't respond. He tried again, and again, until finally he saw light hit his eyes. Blinding, white light. For a moment, he thought of the pain that he had felt, and then the dream that he had just had, and wondered if he had… died. Then, his vision cleared, and he realized why everything was white. He was in a brightly-lit room. Slowly, he moved his arms, propping himself up on the bed that he was on, also white. Tears lined the rims of his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision.
His throat ached for water. He moved his legs, then his feet, then his toes. Once he was pretty sure that he wasn't broken or wouldn't break, he sat up, and dizziness overtook him. He fell back on the bed.
Waiting a few minutes, he tried again, and the woozy feeling in his head was much less pronounced. Sitting there, he took in his surroundings.
Everything was white. The floor, the walls, the bed, ceiling, his clothes. There was a white, cube-shaped toilet in one corner with a white curtain, and a white door on the other side of the room. He walked over to the door, and, finding it locked, began to put the pieces together. He looked around again, noticing the bright light on the ceiling, and then looked up at a corner to see a black sphere watching him- a camera. He was in a prison cell.
"Great," he muttered. "Just great. Outta the pan and into the fire." He sat back down on the bed, wishing that he could do something to block out the bright light, and noticed a white panel on one of the walls. Curious, he shuffled weakly over to the panel, and realized that there were two buttons on it, plus two nozzles. In aurebesh, next to one button, was the word, "Food." Next to the other was, "Water."
"Well, that's nice of them," he muttered, and pressed the button for water. He grabbed the nozzle to see what would happen, and, after a second, placed it to his lips. Cool water began trickling out, and he drank for a minute. Replacing the nozzle, he wiped his mouth, feeling slightly better.
There wasn't much to do, besides eat and drink and sit on the bed. The room was small, cube-shaped, and smooth. There was a camera watching him. There was a locked door keeping him from going out. Putting the pieces together, Calvin came to the conclusion that he had been imprisoned by the Empire- no one else would put their prisoners in such a bland, boring cell. Returning to the bed, he tried to get some shut-eye, but it was difficult with the brightness of the room. He looked around for something to put over his eyes, but there was only a mattress. No blankets or sheets. Eventually he took his shirt and pulled it over his head, turtle-style. It didn't help much.
He laid there for hours, increasingly becoming more frustrated. Were these Imperials ever gonna visit him? He tried yelling at the camera at one point, cursing and cussing, but nothing happened. His thoughts drifted to his friends, and he wondered if they were okay. Hopefully, Han had survived the freezing process like he had.
He had no idea of anything, however. Had Leia, Chewie, and 3po escaped? Were they, perhaps, somewhere here in this same prison? Had Han survived being frozen? Where were Hobbes and Luke and R2? For all he knew, all of them were either dead or imprisoned like him. He shook the thoughts away. They were smart. Han was probably alive, the tough 'ol space smuggler. Luke? That depended on whether Darth Vader's trap had worked successfully. A bitter sensation developed in his mouth as he remembered Lando, who had betrayed them and turned them over to the empire. The no-account snake.
With a sigh, he rolled over on his side. There seemed to be no answers for any of his questions.
A few more hours passed. At least, he thought they were hours. For all he knew, it could have been days. Or even minutes. His internal clock was broken, and he figured that that was the idea of this cell. The complete silence of the place unnerved him. He had never realized what silence- true silence- was like. Every second, there had been something- footsteps, electrical humming, insects buzzing, talking, some far-off or quiet noise. But in here there was nothing, and so, after a while, he found that he could hear his own breathing much more. A steady rhythm- his heartbeat, reached him. Every little sound.
The hissing and sliding of the cell door startled him. For a moment, his heartbeat raced as he propped himself up, his head swiveling to see what had happened. He stared at the door, now open, and finally got to see something other than white. Two imperials, dressed in clean, black uniforms walked in, checking the room and holding batons, before a third followed. She was different, he could tell. Her rank was higher, she wore a white suit with a black cap, and her hair was cropped. She was young, but her manner suggested that she was very experienced in her job. She radiated an air of sanitary indifference to everything, which meant that it was probably pretty difficult to get under her skin. Calvin took that as a challenge.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The woman looked at him, her upper lip curled into a frown that suggested that she was confused. Finally, she turned to one of the officers by her side and asked, "This is him?"
The question annoyed Calvin, and he frowned as well. She turned to look at him again, her expression still slightly confused, and she walked a few steps towards him. The officers moved along with her, ready to intervene if anything happened. As they approached, Calvin hopped off of the bed and walked towards them, until both parties were standing only a few feet from each other. "So," Calvin asked, looking at one of the guards and jerking a thumb at the woman, "who's this chick?"
"Very funny," the woman said, glaring at him threateningly. Maybe it's easier to get under her skin than I thought. "My name, just so that you don't call me lady, or woman, or something equally annoying, is Amela Va'ata
"Cool. Before you say anything else, I need to tell you that this color scheme you've got going on in here, it sucks," Calvin said with a resigned shrug. "I mean, I'm sorry. What deadbrain designed this cell? It-"
"Calvin," Amela stopped him, her voice taking up a sharp edge, "I feel like you're not taking this seriously. Make no mistake- this is an interrogation."
"Amelia, I take nothing seriously," Calvin said, and stared at her. "Especially not privileged admirals' daughters."
She gave a start at that, looking at Calvin with modest surprise, before asking, "How did you figure that?"
"Cause no one gets to be a prison warden (that's what that rank on your chest means, right?) at 18 years old."
"I'm 27."
"Alright, so I was off by a few years. Barely a difference," Calvin shrugged. "You're still Jermaiah Va'ata's daughter, aren't you? The 'ol admiral must have pulled some strings to get you here. So anyway, I also know that you're probably gonna ask me stuff like: 'Why can't we find your Rebel fleet?' and, 'Why did our death star get destroyed?' and, 'How did you manage to infiltrate our Death Trooper base on Tanka?' The answer to all three of those, in case you were curious, is that you imps are all bumbling idiots."
"That's not what we were going to ask you," Amela said. "The only thing that I want to know is why the Emperor himself is interested in a snarky, immature kid who, as far as I can tell, doesn't know the difference between an 18 year-old and a 27 year-old."
"Well, you gotta admit, you look pretty young," Calvin said to conceal his sudden fear. The Galactic Emperor was interested in him? If that really was the case, then there could be only one thing that the Empire wanted out of this interrogation- the secret of the DART. Somehow, maybe through Darth Vader's force visions or something, the Empire knew that he held the secret to it. The silver lining? If they hadn't yet found the DART, then maybe Hobbes and the others had gotten away on the Falcon. He also didn't know where the fleet was- it changed position routinely. And if Chewie had followed his request and told Hobbes that the Empire knew about the DART, then he would keep it with the fleet and never let it leave his sight.
"So," Calvin said, "Where's the Imperial torture device? I can tell you right now that you're not gonna get anything outta me by ordering me to do anything. My mom tried that for six years and it didn't work."
"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't want to torture you," Amela said. "I mean, look at you! You're a kid. A misguided kid who chose to file in with a bunch of terrorists. I pity you. Usually, the people I torture have done horrible, horrible crimes. You're not like any of them."
She knelt down to face Calvin on eye level, and said, "The information that I pull out of my prisoners saves lives- thousands of innocent lives from bombings, from suffering… and what you know is endangering those lives."
"How do you know that?" Calvin asked. "Because your superiors told you?"
"Because your friends are Rebels who have killed tens of thousands!" Amela exclaimed. "I know that they have some sort of machine- a weapon that could give them a way to strike at our galactic citizens. I'm giving you this chance: Tell me where this weapon is, and everything about how it works, and I will do my best to get you out of this prison. If you don't tell me, there will be more painful methods in the near future."
"Go suck a lemon," Calvin spat. "Before you know it, my friends will find me and get me out."
"They're all imprisoned, too," Amela said, standing up. "No one knows where this prison is or that you are in it. This is a black site."
"I find your claim that my friends are imprisoned to be impossible," Calvin smirked, "because if that was the case, then you would have found the DART already, and I wouldn't be here."
"How so?" Amela asked.
"Because the so-called weapon that you're referring to… it's on the very ship that they got away on!"
Calvin knew that he had hit the nail on the head as soon as he looked at her face, and gave her the most infuriating grin that he could muster. "Must suck to know that you had the machine in your possession at one point, eh?" he asked. "And to soothe your own misguided brain, that machine is not a weapon, and it's not going to be used to kill anyone."
"How do you know that?" Amela asked, anger etched in her face.
"Because I built it," Calvin said. "Your superiors lied to you."
"My father does not lie to me," Amela hissed. "He got his information from the Emperor himself… Well, there was your chance to take the easy route. I'll be back soon."
Turning, she and her escort walked out of the cell doorway, which closed behind them. Immediately, Calvin's bravado ebbed. He sat on the bed and sighed. Maybe she was right. He had missed his chance to take the easy way out. But Hobbes was counting on him to keep the secret out of imperial hands, and he resolved to do that no matter what came down the pipe.
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he turned his back on the camera as one escaped him. He really, really wished that he were home, safe and sound with Hobbes.
Hobbes… where was he? Did he escape? He must have. And if he did, there was a chance, however slim, that he could rescue him. He gave a small laugh at his predicament. It was quite similar to Hobbes' imprisonment on Tanka. He stood and wiped away his tears. He had to stay strong. Hobbes would find him, and they would get back to their own universe.
Alright, here's the question: Does it make sense for Hobbes to hide the secret of the Dimension Alternate Reality Traveller (DART)? Leia is on to him, but she makes some good points as to why Hobbes should tell her. And Hobbes also has a few reasons for NOT telling her. Or anyone. Please share with me your opinion, and thanks again. SmarmySmirk out.
:D