Doppelganger: Part 5
[Sometime before the Battle of Yavin]
Rand Ecliptic
“Why not?” he asked, throwing up his hands in frustration.
“This is my job, Derek,” she shot back. “I’m not going to up and leave it.”
“Who was asking you to?” he demanded.
“It just sounded like you were!”
“I’m not!” he said, putting both hands on top of his head and trying to keep from pulling his hair out in frustration. He lowered his voice. “Once we get out of here, we’re not going to have to worry about leaving our positions or anything like that.”
“You don’t know that,” she hissed. “You honestly can’t tell me that the Rebellion works that way, because you don’t know, Derek. No one really does. Besides, you think the Rebellion can afford to keep us together? They’re going to do whatever they have to do to win, Derek, and they can’t afford to consider personal relationships.”
“As opposed to here?” he demanded. “Where it hangs over our head every day, because some paper pusher could just simply decide that one or the other of us needs moved-mostly likely you, moving you down into a more denigrating position. Do you really want that to happen, Jeni? At least the Rebellion will take you seriously.”
“What I want is something certain,” Jeni said, sagging down onto the bunk. “Derek, the Ecliptic is getting ready to ship out any day now, and for all we know, I could be ordered to stay here at the shipyards. I want something sure, Derek. Maybe I’m asking for too much, but I want to know that one thing in my life is going to remain constant, and if there’s one thing in my life that I want to remain constant, it’s you.”
He watched her for a moment sitting there on the edge of Biggs’ bunk, her fall of glossy hair over her shoulder, fingers steepled together in stress. Without a word, he walked over to the wall and depressed the button that opened one of the drawers that belonged to him. The small blue box fit in his hand, and he took a breath before turning around and handing it to her.
Her gaze met his in surprise. “Derek-“
“Open it,” he said softly.
Her fingers were trembling, he thought, as she opened the box to reveal the ring, embellished with the patterns that were traditional for Ralltiir. It was an exact replica of the one his grandmother had worn years ago, the one she had sold during the Clone Wars to feed her family. The pattern and the story of her surviving through adversity had always entranced him, and he’d had it specially made down on Bestine. “Derek,” she said, her voice choked, “are you asking me to marry you?”
He glanced down at his boots. “Yes. I am.”
***
He laid on the uncomfortable hotel bed as night fell on Semsara. Snow was continuing to fall softly outside, and he couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling. Wes thought he was still asleep, because he’d flopped down here and passed out when he’d been dragged here by his friend, and he could hear Wes’ voice in a soft tone speaking to Inyri over the comm.
“I’m worried,” he heard Wes say. “I’ve never seen him like this, Inyri. I’m afraid he could be suicidal.”
He couldn’t hear Inyri’s response, just the higher-pitched voice, made slightly computerized by the comm. Wes’ rejoinder was too low for him to hear, and then his tone switched to an intimate one intended most certainly for Inyri’s ears alone.
It nearly made him sick, hearing Wes’ tone. He rolled over on the bed, turning his back to his friend, trying to block it out of his head, but he couldn’t, and his stomach turned until he bolted up from the bed and into the refresher.
Wes’ voice hurriedly cut off the conversation, and his friend’s shadow suddenly blocked the light streaming into the refresher. “Hobbie?”
“Something I ate,” he choked out.
“Not likely,” Wes said, his voice just a shade shy of being stern. “You haven’t had anything to eat.”
Hobbie wiped his mouth off with a towel and faced his friend. “I can’t eat.”
Wes slapped the lights in the refresher on. “Take a good look at yourself in the mirror. In the last twenty-four hours, you’ve suddenly taken on the look of a madman, Hobbie. I know you want to catch whoever did this, but you are destroying yourself from the inside.”
Hobbie glanced at himself. His skin was deathly pale, and his red-rimmed eyes stood out with the contrast only those with haunted souls had. “I can’t, Wes. I have to-damn it all. Damn it all!”
Hobbie found himself slammed up against the wall by his friend, the edge of the door coming into painful contact with his spine. “I’m not going to let you tear yourself apart over this, Hobbie! That’s not what friends do! You’ve kept me alive in times when I wanted to die, so for Force’s sake, let me do the same for you! But I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what the hell happened, and why you are so hell bent on doing this!”
“Wouldn’t you do the same if it were Inyri?” Hobbie yelled back at him. “That’s what she was to me, Wes! But she ran from me!” The words spilled out, reopening the wound that had slowly been being forced open by every minute they’d spend on Semsara. “When it came down to it, she ran. Because for some Sith-forsaken reason, she decided that being married to me would be too hard for her, and she ran from me, Wes! But I never stopped loving her, and she’s run from me again! She’s gone, and I can’t follow her this time.”
He bent over double, the pain in his chest nearly driving him to his knees. “Oh, stars,” he whispered to himself. He ran through every curse word he knew and some he didn’t in a hushed tone of voice, hoping to relieve the horrible feeling. The iron band around his chest didn’t ease, and he stumbled out of the refresher back into the room.
“You need to go back to Coruscant,” Wes said quietly from the doorway. “Finding the person who killed Jeni isn’t going to do any good for you, Hobbie, because this is killing you.”
Hobbie closed his eyes, unable to cope with that thought at the moment. “I have to do this for her, Wes. I have to know why. I never knew why. She never would tell me, but this-I have to know why.”
Wes spoke slowly. “Hobbie, maybe she wasn’t murdered.”
He shot up off the bed, glaring at Wes. “What do you mean?”
Wes stared at him unflinchingly. “I’ve been looking over the files we got from Duggan. Hobbie, everything she had was in order. All her banking, all her bills, everything was paid up. She even handed in her resignation at her job the day she died. Her pets were fed, and even her refrigeration unit was cleaned out of leftovers. All she didn’t leave was a note to explain why.”
“She never explained why,” Hobbie whispered. “She said she didn’t feel like it, so she didn’t have to.”
“I took a look at the security in the apartment building,” Wes said. “It’s not something a normal person could get past. And the autopsy reports match up, and so does every other detail except the marks on her wrist that you noticed. And those could have come from anywhere, Hobbie. Anywhere.” Hobbie watched Wes’ face grow stony. “You’re becoming delusional, Hobbie.”
Without a word, Hobbie laid down and turned his back to his friend, escaping reality into the darkness of unconscious sleep.
***
He woke up the next morning, his eyes looking out the window to see the snow resting on the ground outside. The pristine landscape of Semsara was almost unworldly, and the empty feeling in his chest wasn’t quite so painful, but just empty.
He got up out of the bed, and found Wes sitting there, looking sleepy as he drank a long swig of caf. His friend didn’t say anything, just looked at him, and Hobbie took a moment to get enough moisture back in his mouth to speak. “Go home, Wes,” he said softly.
“Not going to leave you here,” Wes returned.
“I’m not going to keep on,” Hobbie said. “But you’ve got someone waiting for you back at Coruscant, and I-I’ve got to take care of things here.”
“What kind of things?”
Hobbie closed his eyes. “I need to take all that stuff back to Duggan. Make the funeral arrangements. Those types of things.”
Silence reigned for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Wes said, finally. “I really am. I’ll stay here and help you get things wrapped up-“
“You’ve got to go get married,” Hobbie stated. He looked at his friend. “I’ll be back in time for the wedding, but I think I’m going to miss your bachelor party.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I can do this on my own, Wes. I’ve got to.”
Wes nodded, and Hobbie knew that his friend was just that relieved anyway. Wes had too many other things on his mind at the moment to deal with him-Hobbie had no illusions about that and knew that Inyri had long since replaced him as Wes’ best friend. “Go home, Wes,” Hobbie said again. “And I’ll be along.”
Rand Ecliptic
“Why not?” he asked, throwing up his hands in frustration.
“This is my job, Derek,” she shot back. “I’m not going to up and leave it.”
“Who was asking you to?” he demanded.
“It just sounded like you were!”
“I’m not!” he said, putting both hands on top of his head and trying to keep from pulling his hair out in frustration. He lowered his voice. “Once we get out of here, we’re not going to have to worry about leaving our positions or anything like that.”
“You don’t know that,” she hissed. “You honestly can’t tell me that the Rebellion works that way, because you don’t know, Derek. No one really does. Besides, you think the Rebellion can afford to keep us together? They’re going to do whatever they have to do to win, Derek, and they can’t afford to consider personal relationships.”
“As opposed to here?” he demanded. “Where it hangs over our head every day, because some paper pusher could just simply decide that one or the other of us needs moved-mostly likely you, moving you down into a more denigrating position. Do you really want that to happen, Jeni? At least the Rebellion will take you seriously.”
“What I want is something certain,” Jeni said, sagging down onto the bunk. “Derek, the Ecliptic is getting ready to ship out any day now, and for all we know, I could be ordered to stay here at the shipyards. I want something sure, Derek. Maybe I’m asking for too much, but I want to know that one thing in my life is going to remain constant, and if there’s one thing in my life that I want to remain constant, it’s you.”
He watched her for a moment sitting there on the edge of Biggs’ bunk, her fall of glossy hair over her shoulder, fingers steepled together in stress. Without a word, he walked over to the wall and depressed the button that opened one of the drawers that belonged to him. The small blue box fit in his hand, and he took a breath before turning around and handing it to her.
Her gaze met his in surprise. “Derek-“
“Open it,” he said softly.
Her fingers were trembling, he thought, as she opened the box to reveal the ring, embellished with the patterns that were traditional for Ralltiir. It was an exact replica of the one his grandmother had worn years ago, the one she had sold during the Clone Wars to feed her family. The pattern and the story of her surviving through adversity had always entranced him, and he’d had it specially made down on Bestine. “Derek,” she said, her voice choked, “are you asking me to marry you?”
He glanced down at his boots. “Yes. I am.”
***
He laid on the uncomfortable hotel bed as night fell on Semsara. Snow was continuing to fall softly outside, and he couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling. Wes thought he was still asleep, because he’d flopped down here and passed out when he’d been dragged here by his friend, and he could hear Wes’ voice in a soft tone speaking to Inyri over the comm.
“I’m worried,” he heard Wes say. “I’ve never seen him like this, Inyri. I’m afraid he could be suicidal.”
He couldn’t hear Inyri’s response, just the higher-pitched voice, made slightly computerized by the comm. Wes’ rejoinder was too low for him to hear, and then his tone switched to an intimate one intended most certainly for Inyri’s ears alone.
It nearly made him sick, hearing Wes’ tone. He rolled over on the bed, turning his back to his friend, trying to block it out of his head, but he couldn’t, and his stomach turned until he bolted up from the bed and into the refresher.
Wes’ voice hurriedly cut off the conversation, and his friend’s shadow suddenly blocked the light streaming into the refresher. “Hobbie?”
“Something I ate,” he choked out.
“Not likely,” Wes said, his voice just a shade shy of being stern. “You haven’t had anything to eat.”
Hobbie wiped his mouth off with a towel and faced his friend. “I can’t eat.”
Wes slapped the lights in the refresher on. “Take a good look at yourself in the mirror. In the last twenty-four hours, you’ve suddenly taken on the look of a madman, Hobbie. I know you want to catch whoever did this, but you are destroying yourself from the inside.”
Hobbie glanced at himself. His skin was deathly pale, and his red-rimmed eyes stood out with the contrast only those with haunted souls had. “I can’t, Wes. I have to-damn it all. Damn it all!”
Hobbie found himself slammed up against the wall by his friend, the edge of the door coming into painful contact with his spine. “I’m not going to let you tear yourself apart over this, Hobbie! That’s not what friends do! You’ve kept me alive in times when I wanted to die, so for Force’s sake, let me do the same for you! But I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what the hell happened, and why you are so hell bent on doing this!”
“Wouldn’t you do the same if it were Inyri?” Hobbie yelled back at him. “That’s what she was to me, Wes! But she ran from me!” The words spilled out, reopening the wound that had slowly been being forced open by every minute they’d spend on Semsara. “When it came down to it, she ran. Because for some Sith-forsaken reason, she decided that being married to me would be too hard for her, and she ran from me, Wes! But I never stopped loving her, and she’s run from me again! She’s gone, and I can’t follow her this time.”
He bent over double, the pain in his chest nearly driving him to his knees. “Oh, stars,” he whispered to himself. He ran through every curse word he knew and some he didn’t in a hushed tone of voice, hoping to relieve the horrible feeling. The iron band around his chest didn’t ease, and he stumbled out of the refresher back into the room.
“You need to go back to Coruscant,” Wes said quietly from the doorway. “Finding the person who killed Jeni isn’t going to do any good for you, Hobbie, because this is killing you.”
Hobbie closed his eyes, unable to cope with that thought at the moment. “I have to do this for her, Wes. I have to know why. I never knew why. She never would tell me, but this-I have to know why.”
Wes spoke slowly. “Hobbie, maybe she wasn’t murdered.”
He shot up off the bed, glaring at Wes. “What do you mean?”
Wes stared at him unflinchingly. “I’ve been looking over the files we got from Duggan. Hobbie, everything she had was in order. All her banking, all her bills, everything was paid up. She even handed in her resignation at her job the day she died. Her pets were fed, and even her refrigeration unit was cleaned out of leftovers. All she didn’t leave was a note to explain why.”
“She never explained why,” Hobbie whispered. “She said she didn’t feel like it, so she didn’t have to.”
“I took a look at the security in the apartment building,” Wes said. “It’s not something a normal person could get past. And the autopsy reports match up, and so does every other detail except the marks on her wrist that you noticed. And those could have come from anywhere, Hobbie. Anywhere.” Hobbie watched Wes’ face grow stony. “You’re becoming delusional, Hobbie.”
Without a word, Hobbie laid down and turned his back to his friend, escaping reality into the darkness of unconscious sleep.
***
He woke up the next morning, his eyes looking out the window to see the snow resting on the ground outside. The pristine landscape of Semsara was almost unworldly, and the empty feeling in his chest wasn’t quite so painful, but just empty.
He got up out of the bed, and found Wes sitting there, looking sleepy as he drank a long swig of caf. His friend didn’t say anything, just looked at him, and Hobbie took a moment to get enough moisture back in his mouth to speak. “Go home, Wes,” he said softly.
“Not going to leave you here,” Wes returned.
“I’m not going to keep on,” Hobbie said. “But you’ve got someone waiting for you back at Coruscant, and I-I’ve got to take care of things here.”
“What kind of things?”
Hobbie closed his eyes. “I need to take all that stuff back to Duggan. Make the funeral arrangements. Those types of things.”
Silence reigned for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Wes said, finally. “I really am. I’ll stay here and help you get things wrapped up-“
“You’ve got to go get married,” Hobbie stated. He looked at his friend. “I’ll be back in time for the wedding, but I think I’m going to miss your bachelor party.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I can do this on my own, Wes. I’ve got to.”
Wes nodded, and Hobbie knew that his friend was just that relieved anyway. Wes had too many other things on his mind at the moment to deal with him-Hobbie had no illusions about that and knew that Inyri had long since replaced him as Wes’ best friend. “Go home, Wes,” Hobbie said again. “And I’ll be along.”