ｅｕｐｈｏｒｉａ • one-shots and imagines

surrender - luke skywalker - part one

- For @northernlion196 -
(a thousand apologies for its lateness; I've been in writer's block ...)
((also there will be a part two for this))
♡

The first thing I heard was the screams.

They were terrible and all at once. Like a great wave of agony that passed, and then silence. Why or how I heard it, I didn't know nor care.

It was not until later that I had found out about the Empire's newest deed: the desolation of Adleraan. And that was when I decided.

I was done serving the Empire.

I had no clue in my head on how I was going to get away. I certainly couldn't fly a ship, but my hand was all right with a blaster. I thought for some time when the idea came to me. The detention level; the Empire must have captured some pilots at some time. After getting past maybe a few stationed troopers, I could persuade some pilot to fly me out in exchange for their freedom. The idea didn't seem too overused, so I went with it.

The elevator door slid open, revealing a comm room with three troopers - and a head officer. I immediately straightened as all eyes went to me. Thankfully the ivory-white plates sectioned around my slight form had been recently straightened. I said through my helmet much too quickly, "Er - I was sent down to the detention level to - er -"

So much for getting past a few troopers.

Just as one of the higher officers took a step towards me, an elevator to the left swished open, releasing a strange warbling whine. Out stepped two more troopers - one looked more like me in stature; I was a bit too short for anyone to take me seriously - leading a great walking column of brown fur.

The grim-looking officer took his cool glance off of me and approached the interesting trio. "Where are you taking this ... thing?" he asked skeptically, eyeing them up and down. The towering thing gave a growl.

"Prisoner transfer from block one-one-three-eight," answered the shorter one in a voice that was much too kind-sounding behind that helmet. I frowned, not realising as I took a slight step forward. Something wasn't right.

"I wasn't notified. I'll have to clear it," the officer answered briskly, stepping back to his comm. He began punching in numbers. I seemed to have been forgotten. In a matter of moments, I saw one of the new troopers unfasten the thing's cuffs, and it threw its hands up with an angry howl. He grabbed the trooper's rifle with a jerking motion.

"Look out! He's loose!" the taller trooper cried.

"He's going to pull us apart!" the other added, leaping to the side. The two began blasting at the thing, I realised, with horrible aim. Their shots bounced off the walls.

The officer and his men were momentarily dumbfounded, but before they could do much of anything, the two troopers fired a barrage of blasts at them, taking them down with swiftness. The shorter one turned, his blaster aimed at me. I threw myself backward, my own weapon raised, but all of a sudden, my newly-reformed and independent mind made a decision for me.

For the first time, I tore off my helmet without being told otherwise. I released a mane of unkempt, choppily-cut dark hair that gathered around my shoulders and face and stared at them through a pair of grey eyes.

"Wait!" I semi-shrieked at him, hands raised. He faltered in his steps. Both of them now had weapons pinned on me, and the thing behind them didn't look too cheery either. I lowered my blaster. "Wait," I repeated. My mouth tried to form words out of stuttering.

"I'm not a Stormtrooper," was the first thing a blurted. "N-not anymore."

"And you're making this decision now?" drawled the taller. He seemed really ready to shoot me and get out. Definitely not a Stormtrooper. Way too sarcastic.

"No," I said carefully. "After what they did to Alderaan, I ... you could say they lost a soldier."

The shorter one's hand loosened on his blaster. I could see he was about to lower it when the taller one said angrily, "We can't trust anyone on this forsaken lump of -" He was interrupted by frantic buzzes and voices from the intercom, asking the status of this detention level.

"If you're looking for someone down here, I can help you find them," I said quickly. I wasn't in a dying mood, and these people looked like they had a way out. "Before they send up more troopers."

The shorter one spoke again in that weirdly-comforting voice, "The princess. We need to find her cell." He paused. "Uh - you aren't the princess ... are you?"

A look of confusion crossed my features.

Never in my life had someone mistaken me for a princess.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and waved my hands around. "Eheh ... no. I'm not - well - there's - I'm not a princess," I finished. "But I can find her cell." Before the taller one could shoot me, I slid over to the comm machine and scanned through the camera footage. The yammering on the intercom grew louder, and I gestured to the taller, who grunted in irritation and grabbed his blaster from the great furry beast behind him. "You might want to deal with that before they send up more goons," I said swiftly as the shorter edged over to stand behind me. Surprisingly, despite his not-so-towering height, he was still an inch or so taller than I was. I frowned to myself. Was I that short?

I picked out the princess's cell easily. I remember her when she was 'escorted' onto the space ship. She seemed very similar to me in several ways, or similar to who I was. My sarcasm had faded after the training. "There," I said, jamming my finger towards the screen. "Twenty-one-eighty-seven. Go get her before - well - just go get her."

"Thank you - uh - ?" he asked.

Confused by his thanks, I realised he was inquiring my name, and the fact that the only one I had was a small collection of capitalized letters and number. I racked my brain for a name, any name, that might suit me.

"North," I blurted. "I'm - my name is North."

I could almost hear him grinning under his helmet. "Thanks, North." With that, he sprinted off down the corridor.

Behind me, the taller one had removed his helmet, revealing a masculine face with a mop of dark hair. Everything about him seemed suave, like a man who did some sneaky work for his living, and my thoughts immediately named him 'Thief Boy.' He pressed the intercom button and, using a rather odd form of an official tone, said to the line, "Everything is under control. Situation normal." The big furry thing padded around in the background, nudging some of the fallen troopers.

"What happened?"

"Uh, had a slight weapons malfunction. But, uh, everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now. How are you?"

I almost snorted until the comlink voice's answer.

"We're sending a squad up."

"Uh, uh, negative, negative," Thief Boy said, frantically pressing some buttons. "We have a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. Large leak ... very dangerous."

"Who is this? What's your operating number?"

Thief Boy whipped around towards me. "How the hell do you hang up?" he hissed. I tried to hold back my laughter about their - our - situation and shrugged. I held up my blaster and gestured to it. He took it literally, grabbed my weapon, and blasted the comlink.

"Boring conversation anyway," he muttered, tossing it back to me. "Luke! We're gonna have company!"

I caught my blaster and readied it. This was going to be fun.