- - Need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness
I now know the depths I reach are limitless.- - Reptile
I stormed down the corridor to the hanger, and stood looking around uncertainly. I hadn’t planned to leave so soon, but I also hadn’t expected Wedge to go mental. My astromech, Spot (named for a blue splotch of paint on his dome, courtesy of Wes Janson), whistled questioningly.
"Get her ready, Spot. We’re leaving." He knew me well, and chirped unhappily at my tone of voice. I ignored him and began my walkabout, inspecting the fighter from front to rear. As I stomped around to the back, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My storage compartment isn’t shut right. Someone’s been messing with my X-Wing. I glanced around; no one looked guilty. The mechanics all had their heads in ship innards and no one else was around. Likely nothing was missing, but still... I opened the compartment.
And screamed bloody murder as a... thing leapt out at me. I only saw its sparkling eyes before I turned and attempted to scramble up the nearest object, shouting, "Everyone stay back, it’s a rabid Ewok!"
I was startled by a rumble of laughter from my makeshift perch, and realized that I’d wrapped myself around Wes. He slipped his arms around my waist to keep me from falling. His chuckle was echoed by the other occupants of the hanger, who shook their heads mirthfully and went back to their work.
"I see you’ve met Lieutenant Kettch." I twisted to look over my shoulder and saw that my attacker was a stuffed ewok in a New Republic flightsuit.
"Son of a hutt! Wes, I almost had a heart attack!" I pounded my fist against his shoulder and slid my legs from around his waist.
"So did Wedge, first time he saw it." He looked so gleeful I couldn’t help but laugh.
"Wes, you’re incorrigible. Um, you can let go of me now."
He grinned. "Is that an order, Commander Zurek?"
"That is an order, Lieutenant Janson."
"Does it count if you’re on leave?"
"Wes."
"Yub yub, Commander." He let go of me, then picked up the toy and dropped-kicked it across the hanger. "So, are you running off to have fun or will you bunk here tonight?"
"Much as I enjoy rubbing your nose in my freedom, I’m leaving now. Wedge has the data I had to bring, so there’s no reason to stay."
He frowned, an expression that did not suit his handsome face, then patted my head. "Well, you run along now. And be careful. Don’t get your feet wet." I laughed and climbed the ladder to my cockpit as he continued. "Wear warm clothes. Don’t talk to strangers."
"Who’s stranger than you, Wes?" He grinned again as I put on my helmet and waggled my fingers at him, then gave a little wave and wandered off.
I settled back and checked the data scrolling across my screen. "Awright, Spot, how does she look?" He twittered an all clear, then blatted his opinion of Wes’ maturity. I shook my head, feeling my spirits lift. Everyone should have an astromech with attitude.
Everything checks out, bag’s stowed, ewok’s gone, I just need clearance. I called up to the tower and tried not to feel remorse for leaving a friend in need. After all, Wedge obviously didn’t think he was in need.
"Negative, Commander. You are not authorized to leave base."
"ExCUSE me?"
"You are not auth..."
"I heard you the first time. By who’s order?" I knew the answer; I just needed to hear it in order to justify the extreme damage I was about to cause.
"Commander Antilles, ma’am. Just a moment ago."
Uh-huh. For a second I had to fight the urge to open fire on his X-Wing. Better to open fire on him.
Spot warbled mournfully as I popped the hatch and leapt down. "I know you like Wedge," I called back. "Don’t worry; I’m not going to kill him. I’m just going to wing him."
My head pounded as I retraced my steps to Wedge’s office. I was going to absolutely flay him. Back down the hall, around the corner, at least this time I knew where I was going. I hung a left...
And crashed right into Wes. Again. I was getting tired of this. He held me at arms length and laughed. "It looks like you’re bound to end up in my arms. I can live with that."
"Where is he?"
"Who, Wedge?" He got a good look at my face and frowned. "What’s wrong?"
"That insufferable, arrogant, egotistical CORELLIAN won’t let me leave!"
Wes took a step back and looked guilty. "I think it’s my fault. He asked where you were and I said you were leaving, and he, um, he got kind of mad."
"Where is he?"
Brave Wes; he draped his arm over my shoulder and tried to calm me down. "Listen, Soral, it’s probably not a good idea to talk to him right now." He tried to guide me back the way I came, keeping a firm grip on my shoulder. "I’ve got your room assignment here and..."
"Wes," I stepped very close and laid my hands flat against his chest. "I want to see Wedge. Right. Now."
"He’s in the simulator."
I stepped back. "Show me."
"He’s in a really foul mood. He needs to blow off some steam, and I don’t think you’re going to help." Poor Wes, he was as nervous as a kid trying to avoid a fight. I should have left him alone.
But I didn’t. "Look, you’ve got his bad mood stuck in a sim, and my bad mood in your face. Choose."
Wes turned and led me down the corridor. "Just don’t weld him in there or anything, OK?"
- - - - -
Ten minutes later, my mischief was done, and Wes showed me to my room. His expression was glum. "Wedge will think I did it."
"That’s fine with me," I smirked, then turned serious. "Wes, what’s wrong with him? Has he lost his mind?"
Wes threw himself into a chair across the room and was silent for a moment. "Listen, Soral, I know it’s none of my business, but you and Wedge... was there something between you?"
"Why do you ask?" Belatedly, I realized how guilty I sounded. I glanced at Wes’ face, expecting to see his ha!-caught-you look, but saw only a mixture of sympathy and... something unfamiliar.
"I thought so," he nodded. "He’s been acting wierd whenever your name is mentioned."
I flushed an ugly mottled color. "What has he said?"
"He hasn’t said anything," Wes mused, steepling his fingers and peering at me through them. "It’s what he doesn’t say. No ‘Hey, how is she?’ or ‘Gee, I wish she’d make us some more of that seasoned mynock, it sure was delic...’" he broke off as a pillow hit him right in the face.
"Shut up! It was better than that Tauntaun Wedge made!"
"This is true," Wes answered agreeably, and threw the pillow back. "He just doesn’t say anything. Ever since we were back on Coruscant..." he trailed off and had the grace to look embarrassed--he’d seen Wedge turn his back on me there.
I sat slumped on the bed. "Is he acting this way with anyone else or am I just lucky?"
"You’re just lucky. The funny thing--now, I may be overstepping here, so feel free to throw more stuff at me--is that you aren’t behaving any different. You didn’t know there was a problem, did you?"
Bravo, Wes. Once again I’ve underestimated you. "I knew there was on Coruscant, but I hoped he’d gotten over it by now. Anyway," I waved the matter away, "how’s your life, Wes? Who are you stringing along now?"
"Who, me?" he asked, mock-indignantly. "I don’t treat people that way, unlike someone I could mention." He stopped, his face turning red. "Oh no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound that way."
I buried may face in my hands and laughed hopelessly. " S’okay, Wes. I don’t know why I’m so upset about it. There really wasn’t much there anyway."
Wes shot up from the chair and stalked toward me. Taking my face in his hands, he forced me to look up at him, then said, "Do not let him hurt you, Soral. It’s not right."
For a second I stared into his deep blue eyes, dark with anger and concern, and felt his emotion wash over me warmly. Then I rose, wrapped my arms around his waist, and kissed him. He stood shocked for an instant before his body responded and he pulled me closer. Someone in the back of my mind began screaming at me, and I tried to silence her as the kiss deepend.
I had a sudden image of the door opening and Wedge walking in. A tiny part of me insisted that it was none of his business, my life was mine alone. The rest of me knew better. He would be hurt. After what happened earlier, he’d take it as a personal affront, and he would be right. I wanted to hurt him.
My senses reeled as Wes traced my lower lip with his tongue before demanding entrance. My lips parted for him, giving him control, letting him take what he wanted. His mouth left mine and trailed down to my throat, and I threw my head back to make room as he kissed the flesh above my collarbone. My hands drifted up to the top of his shirt and toyed with the top button...
Suddenly Wes pulled away, breathing heavily. "I can’t do this."
"Wes..."
"No, Soral. Not like this. You’re hurt; you don’t know what you’re doing. I can’t do this to you." He took my hands and thrust me away from him. "I need to leave now."
I fought to control myself. "Wes?" He turned. "This doesn’t change things between us."
Wes smiled gently, relieved. "No, this doesn’t change things."
I waited until the door closed behind him, then curled up on the bed in the fetal position. The screaming woman in my head wouldn’t be silent, but now it seemed that her screams had dissolved into jagged laughter.
- - - - - - -I laid on my stomach on the bed in my temporary bunk, reading a bad digitized novel. I couldn’t get my mind off what I’d tried to do. It was one thing to turn to a man in pain, another thing entirely to do so in anger. To use one friend to hurt another... that's a new low. Lost in these thoughts, I started when the comm by my door beeped insistently.
"It’s not locked."
By my chrono he must have gotten vaped four or five times before he finally gave up and came looking for me. As he entered, I felt a sick knot form in my stomach, born of rejection and a vague feeling of guilt. I knew he was watching me, but I chose to ignore him and see just how pissed he could get.
His helmet whizzed by and crashed into the wall by the bed. I rolled over and leveled a calm gaze at my cranky guest.
"Hey, Wedge."
He glared at me. "I hope you’re happy. Janson’s peeling tubers for the next week."
"Not his fault. He bent under a stronger will."
"What did you do to the sims?"
I yawned, as though the conversation was boring me to tears instead of tearing me apart. "I caused a tiny mechanical failure to happen at, shall we say, strategic moments? I thought you should be prepared in case it happened in battle."
Wedge practically spit out his objection, "I seriously doubt that my X-Wing will ever announce the futility of life and send itself spiraling into a planet!" He paced back and forth as I tried not to laugh. "What the hell were you thinking?"
I launched myself off the bed toward him. "What the hell were _you_ thinking, huh? How dare you order the tower not to let me go?"
"You walked out on me."
I gaped. "Of course I did! I had no reason to stay!"
"I asked you to," he hissed.
"You did not ask--you threatened. Who in the seven hells of Kessel do you think you are? I am not your subordinate."
"I thought you were my friend."
That stopped me cold. There was that tone again--that absolute ‘kill-me-now’ desperation, last heard when I sat like a loyal puppy at his feet and got kicked for my trouble. Maybe he was trying to reach out; maybe he was just going to push me away again. My ego couldn’t handle being cast off for the third time in one day. I was unable, and unwilling, to stop the heated words that rushed from my lips.
"Fuck you, Commander. You don’t want a friend, you want me on my back." For a second I really thought he might hit me, and I flinched away from him for the first time in years. His eyes widened in recognition, then he stepped back and I pressed on. "When I act like a friend, you push me away, then expect me to lay down whenever you need some attention." That I’d expected just that from Wes didn’t occur to me.
"I’ve never done that."
I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, no? Not on Coruscant? Not here?"
Acknowledgement flashed in his eyes, but Wedge held his ground. "You walked away from me on Coruscant. You did it here."
"I don’t walk out on friends unless I’m pushed, Wedge. You turned your back on me. You made it very clear that my concern was unappreciated." I struggled to calm down, to stay rational. "Wedge, tell me what’s wrong; we’re friends.... I care about you."
At this, his face closed up, as if my words made him want to hide. He shook his head and palmed the door controls. I wanted to scream, but settled for the most biting tone I could muster. "Fine. You can turn around and walk away. Again. And you can march your scrawny ass right down to the control tower and tell them to let me go."
I started for the door. Instead of stopping me, as I’d expected him to, he only reached for his comlink and transmitted new orders to the tower, then straightened to attention and saluted.
"Good flight, Commander Zurek."
I hated him. How does he do this? How does he manipulate me--and why do I let him? My vision blurred as I raised my own hand and fought to keep my voice steady. "Thank you, Commander Antilles."
Then, for the second time that day, for the second time in my life, I walked out on him.