Star Wars: Hope Fails

Chapter 6: Anger

Sarna lit his old Oxyflash blow-torch. It had seen better days. But Sarna had an eye for quality and this torch has lasted for, oh... 30 years now. It "kept lighting while the rest were dying." Sarna loved the Oxyflash's slogan. It was true. But only so long as the torch fuel lasted. And torch fuel was expensive. He would soon have to roll another costly barrel out of Ship's brig where it was stowed. Sometimes he imagined that he'd never collect enough salvage to make sufficient retirement money. Hopefully Ship could mine ample ore on this trip to pay for more torch fuel. Stumbling upon the recently-destroyed Yavin 4 may be the jackpot Sarna had been praying for.

The X-Wing's ruined S-Foil consisted of an alloy which the Imerial Military needed desperately. They were in the business of building up their forces. And ship-grade metals sold on the recycling market for a premium. Sarna should at least be able to pay for this year's licenses and registrations for Ship with this X-Wing.. maybe. Hopefully.

"You cost me a lot of credits, old girl" Sarna lamented to the aquisition area ceiling.

Ship was offended, "Sarna, sir, I am here to serve. If I cause a financial burden, I urge you to wipe my memory and.."

"Oh, shut up," Sarna grumbled. Ship always played the humanitariun card. "What's the going price for Tungstranium?"

"As always, sir, the Imperial refineries offer the most: 10 credits a ton."

"Oh, hell" Sarna shook his head. The Empire was slowly making it impossible for him to stay alive! 10 credits a ton wouldn't be enough for him to retire. It would barely fund another salvage expedition.

He recalled better times when he had worked for the Nubian Ship Works. He installed cabin interlocks for their space freighters when he first started working as a teenager. In 20 years he'd proved himself up the assembly line to the engine shop. Before Palpatine, he'd earned enough to live comfortably. Since Palpatine, the Ship Works closed down and Sarna steadily lost creature-comforts. Now he lived off the fluctuating price of salvage aboard Ship.

"Guess I better get this cut up," Sarna reasoned.

"That's my ship!" exclaimed Luke Skywalker. He was still buttoning his orange flight suit when he tripped over some junk fuel pods on his way to Sarna. He landed in a heap with the shoulders of his suit hanging off. It occured to Luke that he should be embarrassed but he was too keyed-up. "How in blazes do you find your way through this junkyard?" He climbed to his feet.

Sarna turned, lower lip puffed, and regarded this loud intruder. Turquoise-framed welding specs covered his eyes. In his gloved fist, the blow-torch spat a hissing blue flame."Those pods are worth money! Probably ain't the smartest to run in here."

"I need to get back to the Death Star! They're going to kill the.." Luke froze. " ..Princess.!"

Sarna's eyebrows raised. "Great. I found a crazy floating in space," Sarna grumbled and turned back to the X-Wing. He applied the torch to the aft of the lower left S-foil. Orange sparks fountained as the flame burned through the Tungstranium wing. Then Sarna couldn't breathe.

Luke stretched his arm toward Sarna, fingers splayed in a knarled clutch. "Where is my blaster?" 

Sarna impulsively turned toward Luke; he grasped at his involuntarily constricting windpipe.

Luke gripped Sarna's throat and leaned close. "And where is my father's Lightsaber?"

Sarna dangled on his tip-toes at the end of Luke's arm. "The cockpit..!" He gagged.

Luke dropped Sarna on his butt. "Take me," he commanded.

--

Luke glared through the cockpit viewport. Ship hovered at the edge of a belt of new asteroids, mining them for precious ores. Asteroids that until recently were a moon on which the Rebel base had been. Luke was the sole survivor of the Rebellion against the evil, galactic Empire.

Sarna rubbed his throat. He was catching his breath in the Captain's chair. "Thanks I get for helping somebody. I fish you out of space, patch you up, and you choke the wind out of me,"

Luke felt numb. He shook his Lightsaber. "You were going to sell this."

Sarna said nothing but his expression said "Yep."

"Weren't you?!"

"Only if you didn't have a say in the matter! I didn't know if you was even gonna wake up!" Sarna coughed up a lump of black phlegm and spat it on the deck. "You some kinda Jedi?"

Luke froze. Was he? Obi-Wan said he was or could be. But the Death Star..? It destroyed Yavin 4. Luke was supposed to stop it. Would a Jedi have stopped it? Luke frowned. Yes. Yes a Jedi would have prevented the Death Star from destroying Yavin 4. And saved the Rebel Alliance. Saved Princess Leia. Luke was no Jedi... "No," he admitted. "But I will be."

Sarna shook his head. This poor kid's seen some serious action. He stood up. "Well you better figure out how you're going to eat first. I ain't got only enough rations for myself."

Luke spun from the viewport. He was both calm and enraged. "Well then you'll just have to drop me at the nearest port where I can get my ship fixed."

Sarna let loose a raucous barrage of laughter. "I'm on expedition - it's a one-way trip!" He eyed Luke knowingly. "I don't make enough credits to just turn this money pit around all willy-nilly. Anyway I'd be mighty surprised if you found a starship mechanic brave enough to try fixing that pile of scrap."

Luke needed revenge. The Empire destroyed his dream. Darth Vader murdered his true love, Leia, and the nearest to a dad Luke knew, Ben. Vader killed Luke's father. And this Jawa-sized grease ball was laughing about it. Luke's blaster leaped from his holster to his fist. He leveled it at Sarna's head. "Stop. Laughing." Luke was icy as a coiled snake.

Sarna looked down the blaster's barrel. This kid was serious. He chuckled, "Go ahead and shoot, boy. I ain't got nothin' to live for 'cept more misery aboard this crate!"

Ship was deeply offended by now. "Sarna, I have only ever served you. What more can I give of myself that would make you happy? I suffer uncountable indignities from your cruel tongue.."

Luke turned to the ceiling as if it were the source of Ship's electronic voice. Sarna saw his chance and stealthily removed a pry-bar from under the Captain's chair.

".. Yet I continue to humbly obey your every wish although I never receive credit..!"

"Shut up!" Luke roared at Ship.

Sarna swung the pry-bar for all his old shoulder was worth. Unfortunately, the crazy kid lit-up his Lightsaber - almost as if it were alive itself. Sarna didn't even realize what happened until pry-bar halves clattered onto the deck.

Unfazed, Luke turned to Sarna. His eyes a fiery red. "Do not try anything like that again."

"Alright." Sarna kept his calm and smiled slightly. "Do it, Ship."

A stun blast pulsed from the cockpit wall behind Luke. He spun and deflected it with his saber - his fire red eyes calm and focused. But before he could turn back to Sarna, two more blasts came at him from both sides. He was unable to block them and they knocked him to the ground, unconscious.

"He seems very dangerous, Sarna, sir," Ship opined.

"Guess I better empty the torch fuel out of the brig," Sarna grumbled.