[Star Wars: Fiction] "Back to Nature" [G]
Title: Back to Nature
Author: Ami Ven
For: Lysha (reconnoiterer)
Prompts: ‘dead wrong’ & ‘wide open spaces’ & ‘everyday magic’
Word Count: 1,021
Fandom: Star Wars (Expanded Universe)
Character(s): Face Loran, Ton Phanan
Setting: vaguely between Wraith Squadron and Iron Fist
Summary: Face and Phanan make an unexpected landing.
Back to Nature
“I said I was sorry.”
Phanan didn’t move. He was sitting on a rocky hill, just beyond where they’d landed their X-Wings, watching the sunset sink below the horizon, and Face paused, still at the base of the hill.
“Look, I get that you’re mad at me,” he said, “which is fine, I understand, this whole thing is entirely my fault. And you can sit out here as long as you like, I just need to know you’re still alive over there. Okay?”
“I’m still alive,” said Phanan.
At least, that’s what Face thought he’d said. Phanan’s voice was harder to understand with his nose stuffed up the way it was.
It had seemed like a good idea to land on a habitable world, rather than risk running out of fuel somewhere out in space trying to reach the Wraiths’ temporary base. The New Republic database called the planet Aldress and reported that it had a small agriculture-based population, mostly human. But if anyone still lived on Aldress, they were clearly on the other side of the globe, because Face had walked until local noon on the first morning after they’d set down and he hadn’t spotted any sign of civilization.
And, of course, Phanan was severely allergic to something that was growing or blooming or pollinating nearby - as well as to the bacta-based anti-allergy medication standard in all New Republic first aid kits.
Face couldn’t blame his wingmate for not speaking him since he’d accepted the lunch ration Face had brought out to him, seven standard hours ago. So, Face had let him be. He’d triple-checked the emergency beacon on both of their X-Wings, then inventoried everything else they had aboard. Between the two of them, they were actually well-off, as far as supplies went, and could easily survive for even the full week it might take the slowest rescue shuttle to reach them.
He gave Vape orders to rebroadcast the emergency signal on the hour, every hour, but to otherwise shut down and conserve power, and his astromech beeped a short-sounding agreement - even the droid seemed a little annoyed with him. Face had sighed and repacked their gear securely in the holds.
“Okay,” said Face, now. He moved forward a few steps, choosing his way carefully up the steep, rocky hill, but still at least an arms’ length away from his wingmate. “Okay. I said I’m sorry, and I meant it.”
“I know,” said Phanan, finally turning. His flesh-and-blood eye was nearly swollen shut, the skin around it just as pink and puffy. There was a sort of whistling noise every time he breathed in, and every exhale had a worryingly wet sound. But his movements, when he turned, were steady, and although he’d pushed up both sleeves of his flight suit, he was itching the slightly-pink skin of one wrist somewhat idly. He regarded Face with a level expression and the other man relaxed, just a little - Phanan didn’t really look angry.
“You do?” said Face.
The other pilot managed a smile. “I’m sorry, too. It’s really not your fault we’re here, and it’s not your fault I’m allergic to everything here. So, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, just because I was feeling miserable.”
“Well, thanks. Are you feeling any better?”
“No,” said Phanan, with a snort of laughter. “I itch all over and I can only breathe through one nostril.”
“Ah. Then maybe I should-”
“Face,” his wingmate interrupted, still smiling. “Come here.”
He walked up to the top of the hill, then Phanan grabbed his elbow and pulled him down on the grass beside him.
“Look,” Phanan said. “Don’t talk. Just look.”
The rocky outcropping where he’d been sitting rose a few meters above the field below, the rest rolling away in gentle waves. It was covered in some kind of flora, long fronds of variegated greens, dotted with tiny purple flowers. It was almost sundown and the sky was a riot of colors - pink, orange and yellow darkening into lilac, indigo and star-spangled black.
“Oh, wow,” breathed Face.
Phanan grinned. “It’s something else, alright.”
The two men were silent for a moment, except for the whistle of Phanan’s breathing, then he continued, “After you left this morning, I got to thinking. I’ve been in the Rebellion so long, living in hangars and bunkers and capital ships, that I think I’d forgotten that places like this exist.”
“And this is what we’re fighting for,” added Face. “The Empire would just see this - all of this - as… as resources. Some general or moff would decide this planet had strategic advantage, and probably no sentient being would even set foot on it before they destroyed it all. They’d send droids to raze this valley for a landing pad or weapons factory, or something equally standard-issue gray.”
“Probably,” his wingmate agreed. “Then nobody would get to see this.”
“That would be a shame,” said Face. He closed his eyes, letting the last golden rays of sunlight slide over his face. “This is downright peaceful. I might not want to leave in a couple of days when the rescue team gets here.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Phanan laughed, a wheezing sound that was still entirely mirthful. “You’re sure the emergency signal went out?”
Face smiled. “I’m sure.”
There was quiet again, then, “Hey, you still have the shelter kit in your hold?”
“With the big waterproof ground-cover?” said Face. “Yeah. Why?”
“I think I’m starting to get used to the itch, and I really don’t want to spend another night cooped up in my X-Wing. I was thinking we could suspend the ground-cover between the S-foils of both our fighters, and we could put our bedrolls underneath.”
“Just like camping!” said Face, grinning. “I always wanted to do that when I was a kid, but, well…”
“I know,” said Phanan, and patted his knee. “We’d better get going on our X-Wing fort, then.”
Face rose and offered him a hand up. “Thanks, Phanan. I don’t think I’m sorry we landed here anymore.”
“I-” his wingmate began, then sneezed.
“Maybe a little sorry,” Face amended.
THE END
Current Mood:
Author: Ami Ven
For: Lysha (reconnoiterer)
Prompts: ‘dead wrong’ & ‘wide open spaces’ & ‘everyday magic’
Word Count: 1,021
Fandom: Star Wars (Expanded Universe)
Character(s): Face Loran, Ton Phanan
Setting: vaguely between Wraith Squadron and Iron Fist
Summary: Face and Phanan make an unexpected landing.
Back to Nature
“I said I was sorry.”
Phanan didn’t move. He was sitting on a rocky hill, just beyond where they’d landed their X-Wings, watching the sunset sink below the horizon, and Face paused, still at the base of the hill.
“Look, I get that you’re mad at me,” he said, “which is fine, I understand, this whole thing is entirely my fault. And you can sit out here as long as you like, I just need to know you’re still alive over there. Okay?”
“I’m still alive,” said Phanan.
At least, that’s what Face thought he’d said. Phanan’s voice was harder to understand with his nose stuffed up the way it was.
It had seemed like a good idea to land on a habitable world, rather than risk running out of fuel somewhere out in space trying to reach the Wraiths’ temporary base. The New Republic database called the planet Aldress and reported that it had a small agriculture-based population, mostly human. But if anyone still lived on Aldress, they were clearly on the other side of the globe, because Face had walked until local noon on the first morning after they’d set down and he hadn’t spotted any sign of civilization.
And, of course, Phanan was severely allergic to something that was growing or blooming or pollinating nearby - as well as to the bacta-based anti-allergy medication standard in all New Republic first aid kits.
Face couldn’t blame his wingmate for not speaking him since he’d accepted the lunch ration Face had brought out to him, seven standard hours ago. So, Face had let him be. He’d triple-checked the emergency beacon on both of their X-Wings, then inventoried everything else they had aboard. Between the two of them, they were actually well-off, as far as supplies went, and could easily survive for even the full week it might take the slowest rescue shuttle to reach them.
He gave Vape orders to rebroadcast the emergency signal on the hour, every hour, but to otherwise shut down and conserve power, and his astromech beeped a short-sounding agreement - even the droid seemed a little annoyed with him. Face had sighed and repacked their gear securely in the holds.
“Okay,” said Face, now. He moved forward a few steps, choosing his way carefully up the steep, rocky hill, but still at least an arms’ length away from his wingmate. “Okay. I said I’m sorry, and I meant it.”
“I know,” said Phanan, finally turning. His flesh-and-blood eye was nearly swollen shut, the skin around it just as pink and puffy. There was a sort of whistling noise every time he breathed in, and every exhale had a worryingly wet sound. But his movements, when he turned, were steady, and although he’d pushed up both sleeves of his flight suit, he was itching the slightly-pink skin of one wrist somewhat idly. He regarded Face with a level expression and the other man relaxed, just a little - Phanan didn’t really look angry.
“You do?” said Face.
The other pilot managed a smile. “I’m sorry, too. It’s really not your fault we’re here, and it’s not your fault I’m allergic to everything here. So, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, just because I was feeling miserable.”
“Well, thanks. Are you feeling any better?”
“No,” said Phanan, with a snort of laughter. “I itch all over and I can only breathe through one nostril.”
“Ah. Then maybe I should-”
“Face,” his wingmate interrupted, still smiling. “Come here.”
He walked up to the top of the hill, then Phanan grabbed his elbow and pulled him down on the grass beside him.
“Look,” Phanan said. “Don’t talk. Just look.”
The rocky outcropping where he’d been sitting rose a few meters above the field below, the rest rolling away in gentle waves. It was covered in some kind of flora, long fronds of variegated greens, dotted with tiny purple flowers. It was almost sundown and the sky was a riot of colors - pink, orange and yellow darkening into lilac, indigo and star-spangled black.
“Oh, wow,” breathed Face.
Phanan grinned. “It’s something else, alright.”
The two men were silent for a moment, except for the whistle of Phanan’s breathing, then he continued, “After you left this morning, I got to thinking. I’ve been in the Rebellion so long, living in hangars and bunkers and capital ships, that I think I’d forgotten that places like this exist.”
“And this is what we’re fighting for,” added Face. “The Empire would just see this - all of this - as… as resources. Some general or moff would decide this planet had strategic advantage, and probably no sentient being would even set foot on it before they destroyed it all. They’d send droids to raze this valley for a landing pad or weapons factory, or something equally standard-issue gray.”
“Probably,” his wingmate agreed. “Then nobody would get to see this.”
“That would be a shame,” said Face. He closed his eyes, letting the last golden rays of sunlight slide over his face. “This is downright peaceful. I might not want to leave in a couple of days when the rescue team gets here.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Phanan laughed, a wheezing sound that was still entirely mirthful. “You’re sure the emergency signal went out?”
Face smiled. “I’m sure.”
There was quiet again, then, “Hey, you still have the shelter kit in your hold?”
“With the big waterproof ground-cover?” said Face. “Yeah. Why?”
“I think I’m starting to get used to the itch, and I really don’t want to spend another night cooped up in my X-Wing. I was thinking we could suspend the ground-cover between the S-foils of both our fighters, and we could put our bedrolls underneath.”
“Just like camping!” said Face, grinning. “I always wanted to do that when I was a kid, but, well…”
“I know,” said Phanan, and patted his knee. “We’d better get going on our X-Wing fort, then.”
Face rose and offered him a hand up. “Thanks, Phanan. I don’t think I’m sorry we landed here anymore.”
“I-” his wingmate began, then sneezed.
“Maybe a little sorry,” Face amended.
THE END
Current Mood:
