When I wake up, I'm lying in bed. I get up as fast as my throbbing head will allow and look around. In the 'sitting' area of the quarters Luke and I share, Tych is sitting on the sofa. He looks up when I enter.
"You okay?" he askes.
"Okay?! Hobbie SHOT me!"
He nods. "I know. And if he hadn't you probably would have strangled Wes."
"Good! Did I cause any permanent damage?"
"No, you didn't. Oh, by the way, Zev found Luke. He's-"
"Is he alright?!"
"-in bacta right now."
"Bacta?! He was hurt?"
"Solo said that when he found him, the whole left side of his face was torn open. No one knows what could have caused it, and so everyone's worried because he appears to have been clawed, which leads to the conclusion that some critter out there thought he'd make a good dinner-but the claw marks are so big, whatever it was has to be bigger and stronger than a Wookiee on steriods."
Clawed? The whole left side of his face torn open? My head swims and I feel sick. "Other injuries- those were the only injuries?"
"He had a concussion and some frostbite, but that's it. The medics say he'll be find. The main worry is his face. He may lose some muscle-nervous control and he'll definetly have scars for the rest of his life."
"Can I see him?"
"They'll let you into the med center, but he's still in bacta. He won't get out for another hour."
I sit in the bench in the med center, staring at the bacta tank two meters in front of me, staring at its inhabitant. I stare at the small, lithe form that is so delicate, yet carrying a hint of power. I stare at the once-angelic face, the high cheekbones, the jaw, the nose, the smooth, tan skin. Well, the skin that *was* smooth. Now it's horribly blemished by hideous, deep cuts all up the left side of the face. I shudder and a hand falls on my shoulder. I look up. It's Han Solo.
"Hi, yourself." He sits on the bench next to me and follows my gaze to Luke.
"You know, I'm almost scared."
"He was acting so...weird when I found him."
"Well, when I found him, he was just lying in a snowdrift, not moving. I ran over to him, afraid he was dead, but other than the cuts on his face, he didn't look hurt. He was just lying there with this look on his face. He looked like he'd seen he'd seen something at once horribly grotesque and incredibly beautiful. He kept repeating, in this, odd, raptured voice, 'Ben...Yoda...Dagobah' over and over again. Now, I know who Ben was- Kenobi. And there's a planet in the Meridian sector, I think, called Dagobah. But who or what Yoda is, and the significance of the three, I don't know."
"Huh. That is weird."
As we watch, the med droids hoist him out of the sticky-tank and towel him off. They dress him and put him on a bed. I glance at Han and he gets the point and makes an exit. Except for the indifferent droids, Luke and I are alone. I sit on the edge of the bed, stroke his hair, his face, gently turning his head to look at the scars. As I look at them, a chill runs down my spine. The hand or paw that held the claws that made them must be close to twice the size of mine. He stirs fitfully under my hand and says, softly, almost piteously, "Ben?"
His eyes open and I shrink back out of reflex- they are rolled back in his head totally.
"Wedge? What are you doing here? I thought you were on Coruscant, for Tycho's trial."
"Coruscant? What trial?"
He blinks, but his eyes stay rolled back.
"Where am I?"
"Oh, that's right. Is Callista alright?"
"You know Callista."
"No, I don't. I've never heard the name in my life."
"But we-" he breaks off confused. "What's going on? What's happening?"
"Uh... we're on Hoth. You went missing last night and Zev-"
"Zev? Zev died years ago Wedge!"
"No, he's still very much alive. Anyway, you were attacked my some creature- it clawed you across the face."
"Oh that's right. The wampa."
He touches his face, gently, and his eyes clear, abruptly, and I swear, they are brighter then I've ever seen them.
"Wedge, what was I saying?"
"I don't know, and you were making no sense whatsoever."
"It made sense to me-then. Now, I'm baffled by all the pictues."
"Yes, pictures. I saw all these pictures."
"All sorts of things. I saw you, older, in a dress uniform with rows of medals and stars on your collar. You were at a trial, in the witness stand. Tycho...Tych was the accused. What of, I don't know. I saw you... the dress uniform, older still, with more medals. There was a woman on your arm, wearing a wedding dress and a veil. The two of you were all smiles. I saw you, later, in civilian clothes, holding a baby. You came up to me and say, 'See? My daughter! Iella and I have a daughter!'I saw me, looking in a mirror, and my hair is grey and my face is lined, with both wrinkles and scars-horrible scars. My eyes look haunted and I'm dressed all in black. I'm getting dressed, and I put a glove on my right hand to protect it- it's prosthetic..."
I gape as his voice trails off into nothingness. Just then, the door
opens and Han walks in. He says, "Howya doin', kid? You look strong
enough to pull the ears off a gundark..."
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