Sobering Reality (1/1), Star Wars
Title: Sobering Reality
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Wedge Antilles, Luke Skywalker, with a brief cameo from Han Solo and Chewy
Rating & Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1050
Genre: Angst, Gen
Summary: Wedge knew that war was indiscriminate with its victims.
Author's Notes: Written for
gelbes_gilatier who gave me the prompt: Star Wars, Wedge Antilles, I fought the war but the war won. This is my first Star Wars fic so, er, you'll have to forgive me if this is a bit rough around the edges. I would have never gotten anywhere without the Wookieepedia so yay for them. Set after the events of A New Hope.
Of all the people Wedge expected to see in the cantina, Luke Skywalker was not one of them.
It had been several days since the young pilot had destroyed the Death Star; a few hours ago he had received a medal of Princess Leia herself. And yet, he was nursing a drink next to his newly repaired R2 unit.
Wedge walked up to his table, his own glass of Corellian ale in hand. "You mind if I join you, Boss?"
Luke shook his head. "I'm probably not good company though," he warned.
Wedge looked at the young man. At the ceremony, Luke had been all grins, even getting Princess Leia to return the gesture. What had happened to make him so morose?
As if he picked up on his thinking (and maybe with all the rumors of him being some kind of Jedi, he had), Luke looked down into his mug. "Did you realize that we are the only two who survived out of the entire Red Squadron?"
Of course Wedge did; that was his main reason for coming to the cantina in the first place. Sure they had secured a huge victory against the Empire, but at a high price.
Luke shook his head and continued before Wedge could respond. "I can't even go back home. The stormtroopers destroyed it when they were looking for R2 and 3PO."
The droid beside him whistled forlornly.
Wedge took a long swig from his cup before speaking. "War isn't easy, Luke, but what you did to the Death Star...well, let's just say that you offered the Rebellion hope. We're one step closer to defeating the Empire."
They were quiet for a few minutes, then Luke looked up at the pilot. "How do you deal with it?"
Luke's question was so honest and earnest that Wedge wished he had a better answer to give him. "I come down to a place like this, drink until I forget why I came in the first place. Then, I move on." He shrugged. "It's not the most original idea, but it works."
"Han gave me similar advice," Luke commented, giving a half-shrug. “I don’t know if it’s working.” He emptied the contents of his cup.
“Well, I guess even smugglers can be right every once in a while,” Wedge replied.
“Hey! Han saved my life on the Death Star,” Luke said defensively.
“It’s nothing personal, Boss,” Wedge rushed in. “They just make it hard for an honest trader to make a living out here.”
“You were a trader before?”
Wedge nodded. “Couldn’t make a living being legit. So I joined the Rebellion,” he answered, falling back on the story he had told everyone since the attack on Gas Talon.
Since the death of Mala.
Wedge frowned. More alcohol was in order. He gestured for the bartender to bring another round of drinks to him and Luke.
*************
Wedge wasn’t sure how long he and Luke had been in the Cantina, he only knew that based on the buzz in his skull, it was time to call it a night. Luke, it seemed, had other plans.
“You sure you want to finish that drink, Boss?” Wedge asked as Luke sloppily picked up his half-full glass.
Luke grinned widely. “Jedis can’t get drunk.” He tilted his head back and slammed the rest of the drink down.
Wedge was no expert in the Force, and he certainly didn’t know if Luke was some kind of Jedi, but there was one thing he knew for sure: Luke was absolutely drunk.
The young man moved to stand. He stumbled into the table next to them, which was thankfully empty. Wedge reached out and grabbed his bicep to steady him. Maybe it was a bad idea letting the young man drink so much.
“Come on, you need to sleep this off,” Wedge said. “I’ll take you down to the barracks.”
Luke shook his head. “No. I’m going to the Millennium Falcon. Han said I could stay there if I want.”
Wedge thought had heard rumors that the smuggler was leaving town after the medal ceremony. Something about an unpaid debt. “You sure he’s still around?”
Luke nodded. “Yeah, he’s not going anywhere.” He seemed awfully confident about that.
The two men started walking in the direction of the hangars. “Any reason why you don’t want to go down the barracks?”
“Ben’s there,” Luke stumbled slightly.
“Ben?”
“Ben Kenobi. I mean I know he’s not there. He died to save me. Save us. But he taught me a lot about the Force on the Falcon,” Luke explained, his mood suddenly shifting to morose. He shrugged. “I don’t feel so alone there.”
Wedge didn’t know quite how to respond to his mood shift, so he was grateful when they stepped into the hangar and saw the Millennium Falcon as Luke said they would. On the platform was a Wookie who looked excited to see Luke. He ran inside the ship.
Moments later, Han Solo came running down the ramp. He assessed Luke quickly. “What did I tell you, Kid? I don’t care what that old man told you, the Force doesn’t keep you from getting drunk.”
Luke gave him a grumpy look. “It does. I’m not drunk.”
“Whatever you say, kid.” He looked at the Wookie. “Chewy, get him on board. The kid needs to sleep this off.” For the first time he seemed to notice Wedge standing there. “And, uh, thanks for looking out for him.” It was clear verbal appreciation wasn’t in the smuggler's skill set.
Wedge nodded. “No problem.” He raised his voice slightly. “And Luke, tomorrow you and I can start working on assembling some new members for a new Squadron.”
The young man nodded. “Thanks, Wedge.” He turned around and let the Wookie lead him away.
Wedge started making his way make to the barracks as best he could with the world still spinning slightly. It seemed unfair that it seemed Luke’s destiny to play a pivotal role to the Rebellion. The kid’s innocence had been refreshing to see.
But Wedge had learned that war was indiscriminate with its victims--Mala, the innocent people of Alderaan, the majority of the Red Squadron--and that in every victory there was the bitter taste of defeat.
Fandom: Star Wars
Characters: Wedge Antilles, Luke Skywalker, with a brief cameo from Han Solo and Chewy
Rating & Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1050
Genre: Angst, Gen
Summary: Wedge knew that war was indiscriminate with its victims.
Author's Notes: Written for
gelbes_gilatier who gave me the prompt: Star Wars, Wedge Antilles, I fought the war but the war won. This is my first Star Wars fic so, er, you'll have to forgive me if this is a bit rough around the edges. I would have never gotten anywhere without the Wookieepedia so yay for them. Set after the events of A New Hope.
Of all the people Wedge expected to see in the cantina, Luke Skywalker was not one of them.
It had been several days since the young pilot had destroyed the Death Star; a few hours ago he had received a medal of Princess Leia herself. And yet, he was nursing a drink next to his newly repaired R2 unit.
Wedge walked up to his table, his own glass of Corellian ale in hand. "You mind if I join you, Boss?"
Luke shook his head. "I'm probably not good company though," he warned.
Wedge looked at the young man. At the ceremony, Luke had been all grins, even getting Princess Leia to return the gesture. What had happened to make him so morose?
As if he picked up on his thinking (and maybe with all the rumors of him being some kind of Jedi, he had), Luke looked down into his mug. "Did you realize that we are the only two who survived out of the entire Red Squadron?"
Of course Wedge did; that was his main reason for coming to the cantina in the first place. Sure they had secured a huge victory against the Empire, but at a high price.
Luke shook his head and continued before Wedge could respond. "I can't even go back home. The stormtroopers destroyed it when they were looking for R2 and 3PO."
The droid beside him whistled forlornly.
Wedge took a long swig from his cup before speaking. "War isn't easy, Luke, but what you did to the Death Star...well, let's just say that you offered the Rebellion hope. We're one step closer to defeating the Empire."
They were quiet for a few minutes, then Luke looked up at the pilot. "How do you deal with it?"
Luke's question was so honest and earnest that Wedge wished he had a better answer to give him. "I come down to a place like this, drink until I forget why I came in the first place. Then, I move on." He shrugged. "It's not the most original idea, but it works."
"Han gave me similar advice," Luke commented, giving a half-shrug. “I don’t know if it’s working.” He emptied the contents of his cup.
“Well, I guess even smugglers can be right every once in a while,” Wedge replied.
“Hey! Han saved my life on the Death Star,” Luke said defensively.
“It’s nothing personal, Boss,” Wedge rushed in. “They just make it hard for an honest trader to make a living out here.”
“You were a trader before?”
Wedge nodded. “Couldn’t make a living being legit. So I joined the Rebellion,” he answered, falling back on the story he had told everyone since the attack on Gas Talon.
Since the death of Mala.
Wedge frowned. More alcohol was in order. He gestured for the bartender to bring another round of drinks to him and Luke.
*************
Wedge wasn’t sure how long he and Luke had been in the Cantina, he only knew that based on the buzz in his skull, it was time to call it a night. Luke, it seemed, had other plans.
“You sure you want to finish that drink, Boss?” Wedge asked as Luke sloppily picked up his half-full glass.
Luke grinned widely. “Jedis can’t get drunk.” He tilted his head back and slammed the rest of the drink down.
Wedge was no expert in the Force, and he certainly didn’t know if Luke was some kind of Jedi, but there was one thing he knew for sure: Luke was absolutely drunk.
The young man moved to stand. He stumbled into the table next to them, which was thankfully empty. Wedge reached out and grabbed his bicep to steady him. Maybe it was a bad idea letting the young man drink so much.
“Come on, you need to sleep this off,” Wedge said. “I’ll take you down to the barracks.”
Luke shook his head. “No. I’m going to the Millennium Falcon. Han said I could stay there if I want.”
Wedge thought had heard rumors that the smuggler was leaving town after the medal ceremony. Something about an unpaid debt. “You sure he’s still around?”
Luke nodded. “Yeah, he’s not going anywhere.” He seemed awfully confident about that.
The two men started walking in the direction of the hangars. “Any reason why you don’t want to go down the barracks?”
“Ben’s there,” Luke stumbled slightly.
“Ben?”
“Ben Kenobi. I mean I know he’s not there. He died to save me. Save us. But he taught me a lot about the Force on the Falcon,” Luke explained, his mood suddenly shifting to morose. He shrugged. “I don’t feel so alone there.”
Wedge didn’t know quite how to respond to his mood shift, so he was grateful when they stepped into the hangar and saw the Millennium Falcon as Luke said they would. On the platform was a Wookie who looked excited to see Luke. He ran inside the ship.
Moments later, Han Solo came running down the ramp. He assessed Luke quickly. “What did I tell you, Kid? I don’t care what that old man told you, the Force doesn’t keep you from getting drunk.”
Luke gave him a grumpy look. “It does. I’m not drunk.”
“Whatever you say, kid.” He looked at the Wookie. “Chewy, get him on board. The kid needs to sleep this off.” For the first time he seemed to notice Wedge standing there. “And, uh, thanks for looking out for him.” It was clear verbal appreciation wasn’t in the smuggler's skill set.
Wedge nodded. “No problem.” He raised his voice slightly. “And Luke, tomorrow you and I can start working on assembling some new members for a new Squadron.”
The young man nodded. “Thanks, Wedge.” He turned around and let the Wookie lead him away.
Wedge started making his way make to the barracks as best he could with the world still spinning slightly. It seemed unfair that it seemed Luke’s destiny to play a pivotal role to the Rebellion. The kid’s innocence had been refreshing to see.
But Wedge had learned that war was indiscriminate with its victims--Mala, the innocent people of Alderaan, the majority of the Red Squadron--and that in every victory there was the bitter taste of defeat.