The Summer Strikes Back, Part 8

The sun was just barely rising over Ocean View Island as Hank pulled into the dock. The moment they got in, Leia ran over to the pay phone booth at Ackbar's. Luke and Charlie helped Ben down the planks. “You're not breathing very well,” Luke gulped. “We've got to get you to Ocean View Courthouse as soon as possible.”

“I'll be...fine...” Ben looked up at the boy. “The Cottages...are more important. You have to warn the residents and evacuate, before the Imperials arrive. Call Kes. He has to be worried sick by now.”

“Evacuate?” Luke shook his head. “Uncle Ben, this is our home! Shouldn't we defend it?”

“Luke, there are children here. Older people.” Ben shifted against his nephew. “I told you what happened to the Jedi Knights when they took on the Imperials. They were slaughtered. I don't want that to happen to us.”

Hank emerged from the Falcon. “Look, old man, I don't care what you do. Charlie and I have to get going. We were supposed to be going on a fishing trip first thing this morning. Pay us when we get back.” He tossed Luke a jingling set of keys. “Here, kid. You need my truck more n' I do right now.”

“Hank,” Luke insisted, “can't you stay? You saw what we're up against. You live here, too.”

“Not for long.” Hank shook Ben's hand. “I wish you guys luck. As soon as you get in, call the cops. They'll deal with this better n' us regular people can.”

“I'll make sure they do,” Ben wheezed. He winced when he leaned over to shake Hank's callused hand.

Luke just pulled away. “All right. Take care of yourself, Hank. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it?”

Hank watched the quartet as they stumbled over to the parking lot. “Hey kid!” He called out to him. “Don't forget to catch a wave for me.”

Luke gave him a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Sure.”

“You're fuckin' crackers!” Charlie scolded. “The kid's right. We need to go back. There ain't no bloody way they're gonna get past those blighters on their own.”

His best friend just started loading wax boxes onto the deck. “What are you talkin' about? I know what I'm doin'.”

Charlie sighed. “Right, mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Leia met them at the entrance to Ackbar's, the plastic bag with the tapes and blueprints hanging on her wrist. “I called Bernadette Tomlinson Memorial. The ambulance for Uncle Ben should be here in about 10 minutes. Talked to Jyn, too. Cassian's better, but he'll still be out for at least another day.” She took Ben's arm. “I'll go with him in the ambulance, then call the City Council from there. The rest of you, get to the Cottages as quickly as you can.”

Luke gave Leia a hug, then gave his uncle a smaller one. “Take care, you two.”

Uncle Ben gasped when Luke squeezed him. “That's...quite all right. You get back to the Cottages, or the other residents may find themselves in the hospital with Cassian and me.”

His nephew nodded. “We'll do you proud, Uncle Ben. Come on, boys.” They headed to the battered red truck sitting in the empty parking lot while Leia and Uncle Ben settled down on the wooden and wrought-iron benches in the front of Ackbar's.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wedge! Wedge!” Luke zoomed across the lawn, ignoring the leftovers from the party the night before and the glimpse of a lobster scuttling across the porch. “Guys! I need your help! We're about to be annihilated!” He banged on the door as hard as he possibly could, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Wedge, Hobbie, anyone! I need help! We're going to die!”

A bleary-eyed Wedge stuck his head out of the front door. “Luke, I don't know if you remember, but some of us were involved in serious partying last night. I didn't get to bed until three o'clock in the fucking morning. Go fix something.”

Luke pushed between his door and the frame before he could slam it shut. Voices came up in the cottage and from the cottages closest to him. “Wedge, this is serious! The Imperial Gang's coming! They put Cassian and my uncle in the hospital, and now they're gonna kill us!”

He managed to force the door open as Hobbie, Biggs, Wes, and Deak stumbled out. “What's all the friggin' noise about?” Deak clutched an old flowered sheet around his body, though it still left little to the imagination. “I have company upstairs. Important company, if you know what I mean.”

“Guys, this is really serious!” Luke waved his arms. “The Imperial Gang is on their way. They could be here any moment! They know Jyn's dad stole something major. They tried to make my sister give it up, but she got it away. She's going to call the City Council and get it to them. They're not going to like that. In fact, they're going to hate it. They're going to kill us!”

“Whoa buddy, slow down!” Biggs rubbed his own recovering ribs. “Ok, you're serious. You're paler than those little crystal pebbles on the beach. Point is, what can we do about it?”

“First of all, we have to warn the other residents, especially people who have kids.” Luke gathered them around. “Then, we have to make a plan...”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bobby Fett's boat, the Slave I, landed on the beach twenty minutes later. “No offense, Mr. T,” Vader said as they landed, “but that's the closest I ever wanna get to you.”

“None taken, Vader.” Two of the men helped a wobbly Tarkin out of the boat. “Now, gentlemen, I want to see this done quickly and efficiently. Don't linger too long in one place. Beat the occupants, shatter a few lamps, then leave. We want to make an effective display, and the last thing we need is to be around long enough for the residents to call the police or sound any alarms.”

“Will do, Mr. T.” Vader hefted a baseball bat over his shoulder. “Ok, boys, you heard the boss. Let's bash their heads in.”

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, giving Vader's jacket and shiny helmet an almost eerie glow. He banged up the porch to the nearest cottage and banged on the door. “Open up! We're gonna knock your teeth in!”

A teen head with messy blue-back hair poked out. “Sorry, my dad said I'm not supposed to open the door to strangers.” The kid jumped back in, locking the door before Vader could mash his face.

“Hey kid, that ain't funny!” Vader banged on the door again. He could hear snickering and muttering from inside. “I know you're in there!” More giggling, and something...hissing? “Hey, I'm the only one who hisses around here!” He kicked at the door stop. “If you don't open up, I'm gonna break this door down! One...two...two and a half...”

The door opened before he got to the end. “Eat paint, dick wad!” Vader fell back as globs of sparkly gold and bright pink blurred his vision. Sabine grinned over her shoulder. “I got him, Kanan!”

“Good work!” Kanan stepped out. “Now sir, if you'd excuse me, my children both have work and need their rest, so...” He grabbed the green plastic welcome mat with the big fat daisy out from under his feet before Vader could react, sending the motorcyclist crashing to the weathered wood porch.

“You asshole!” Vader hissed. He stomped around back. “I'm gonna kill your whole family, starting with that little painter chick!” He was too busy stomping to notice the wire he tripped over. The moment he went over it, a bucket of paint – lemon-yellow this time – fell over his rear. “Fucking shit, this jacket's expensive!”

Kanan popped his head out the window. “Please watch your language. There are impressionable children in this house!” He quickly slammed the window before Vader could grab him.

Ezra's protest “But I'm not a little kid!” could be heard, even after the window closed. When Vader tried to open the window, Ezra flung it shut on his fingers. “What did I say about 'no strangers?'”

“Owwwwww! Kid, leggo!” It took two passing members of the Imperial Gang to pry his swollen digits out of the window sash. Their leader backed away, rubbing his sore fingers. “You guys deal with that house, but watch out! Those kids are fucking nuts!”

He jumped as an Imperial Gang member ran past him, screaming. “Gettit offa me! Gettit offa me!” An angry lobster with a wonky back leg had clamped on to his rear. Vader had to pry the fiend from around his buttocks, and even then, he barely avoided being clamped on himself before the critter ran back into the woods. “These people are INSANE! Who keeps attack lobsters in their back yards?” He looked up at Vader's helmet and sniggered. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”

Vader ran over to a window. “That little bitch!” The words “You suk” had been spray-painted onto his helmet, surrounded by little hearts and flowers. “I'm gonna murder her!”

That was when he heard the crash. Vader and the Imperial Gang member ran into the next yard just in time to see three guys scooped into a fisherman's net. “Shit! Get us down from here!” Motti screamed.

“Yeah!” added Jerrod. “I don't like heights! I'm gonna barf, man!”

Motti tried to ease away from him. “Don't hurl near me!”

“This is so dumb.” Vader pulled out a knife and cut the ropes, sending his men crashing to the ground. “Come on. I think this one is open.”

To Vader's surprise, the door was open. The most delicious spicy smell wafted from outside. “Gentlemen!” A tall Asian man with a short, shiny black crew cut in a flowered apron and plaid seersucker shirt stood on the porch. He carried a cane and didn't seem to look in their direction. “Welcome to our humble home. You came in good time. We need people to test our new sauce. I see many volunteers.”

Motti jumped up and down, raising his hand. “Ooh, me first!” He pushed past the man and ran in. The others followed him more slowly.

Steam rose from the big pot of bubbling red liquid on the stove in the tiny kitchen. “Gimme!” Motti grabbed the bowl offered by the slightly older, bulkier man with the wild dark hair and thick Willie Nelson mustache.

“Be careful, boy,” the older man warned. “Don't guzzle it. It's hot.”

Motti ignored him, gulping down most of the contents of the bowl in one swallow. He didn't even have the time to put the bowl down before his eyes widened and his cheeks turned redder than the sauce. “Water! I'm on fire! Gotta have water!” He flung opened the refrigerator, swigging down the contents the nearest olive-green Tupperware pitcher as fast as he could. He threw the pitcher into a table, then lunged for the older man, fists raised. “Motherfucker, I could have burned my tongue off! I'm gonna rearrange that slanty face of yours...”

He never got the chance. The man went into a martial arts stance, slamming him just under the neck with the side of his hand, then throwing him out a window. “I told you,” he yelled, “don't guzzle! It's hot!”

“Let's get that fucker!” Vader ducked away as his remaining boys went after the old man. One by one, he knocked them into the linoleum, or let them fly out the window. The blind man finished them off, leaving a pile of groaning bodies around him.

Even Vader had to take a step back. “Who the hell are you guys, Bruce Lee's homo relatives or somethin'?”

“Sorry, I was rude. Didn't introduce myself.” The older man bowed. “Baze Malbus, and my partner Chirrut Imwe. I teach Martial Arts on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings at the Booker Street Rec Center.”

“Shit, first the kids are crazy, now the homos.” Vader raised his knife. “Maybe you need to see the power of the dark side, man...owww!”

A cane came down on Vader's hand, sending the knife skittering under the table. “Just because I can't see, doesn't mean I can't hear.” Chirrut held his staff at ready. “You're racist and bigoted. A bad combo. Please leave, or we'll call the police.”

“Damn homo bastards!” Vader ran out. “Try callin' the cops on us!”

Two more Imperials came flying out the door of the next cottage as he stumbled down the path. Mr. Tarkin stomped out on his own accord. “And stay out!” Kes peered out the door. “My son is four years old! He needs to sleep!”

“I'm He-Man!” Poe yawned as he tried to hold up a brown and gray plastic sword that was almost as big as he was. “An' He-Man say 'no bad guys here!'” He poked the sword at Mr. Tarkin's rear. “Go away, Skeletor! Go yell at Moss Man an' Trap Jaw!”

“I'm a lawyer, Dameron! I can sue you for defamation and destruction of property!” Tarkin snarled to the closed front door. The front of his fancy suit was covered in something lumpy and yellowish. “And I do NOT resemble a jaundice-faced, incompetent animated warlord!”

Now Vader was snickering. “You watch cartoons, Mr. T? I didn't think you knew who Skeletor was.”

“They're something to have on in the background when I'm at the office.” Mr. Tarkin tried to brush the lumps off his suit. “I'm going to sue this entire complex! This suit cost me at least six hundred dollars at Barney's of New York.”

“They got you, too?” Vader pointed to his helmet. “I think Stick Boy an' his sister tipped 'em off.”

“Ya THINK?” Big Ozzie Ozzel was rubbing his toes. “I stepped on Legos and Hot Wheels at Dameron's house, man! Those suckers hurt!”

Vader grabbed his neck. “Next time, wear sneakers when we kill people, not flip-flops, you fat turd.”

Tarkin got between them. “Fighting among ourselves will do nothing. There's one last cottage. We may be able to stop them and cut the phone lines before the police arrive.”

Motti raised his hand. “I'm all for leavin' the area before the cops come, Mr. T. There's a lot of other stuff we could be doin'. Like rippin' off Jersey Food Mart down the street. I need some serious liquid refreshment right now.”

“Evacuate? In our moment of triumph?” Tarkin gave him one of his chilling smiles. “I think you overestimate their chances.” He directed Motti and Ozzie back towards the houses. “Cut the phone lines. And watch out for that lobster. It pinches.”

Ozzie rubbed his rear. “Tell me about it.”

Vader lead the Imperials up the steps and onto the porch. This time, he didn't bother with knocking. He just slammed the door until it went in. “Mr. T?” He frowned. “The joint's empty.”

“Well, it's not empty-empty.” Piett, somewhat older and better-dressed than the others, sat down on the ratty couch. He swiped a magazine from the table. “Last month's Playboy. You'd think someone would at least keep Esquire around.”

“Read later, skillet face.” Vader kicked at the table. “Kill things now.”

“Hey!” Vader turned towards front of the living room to his right for a fraction of a second...and found himself stumbling back as runny yellow liquid hit him dead in the visor. “That's not polite!” Luke dove out of his hiding spot behind the TV. “Didn't your mother ever tell you not to touch other people's property?”

“Eggs!” Shiny, white ovals came soaring over them as the Rogues all darted out, holding blue and gray cartons in their arms. Motti threw his hands over his head. “Boss, we're being egged!”

“Now, really. It's one thing in the families with children, but this juvenile behavior must stop!” Tarkin grabbed Luke's hand. “You're the one whose sister stole those tapes! Or at least, she and her friends did.”

Luke yanked his hand back. “My sister never stole anything in her life! You're the one who's stealing! You're buying all this property for less than it's worth, and you're just gonna drive everyone away anyway.”

“That's called progress, boy.” Tarkin took a napkin from a box he'd found in the refrigerator and started wiping the oatmeal off his jacket. “Your entire complex has done nothing but assault us. You could all be arrested for assault and battery.”

Wedge mashed an egg on Ozzel's back. “And you could be arrested for trespassing.”

“You!” Vader aimed his fist at Luke's face, slamming him on the porch. “You n' me, boy! Surfer against surfer. I've seen you with these doodle brains. I know you guys think you're hot shit.”

“You're not so great.” Luke glared at him. “All right. End of the summer, you and me!”

“Or all of us!” Wedge pushed alongside his friend. “We'll all take you and the Imperials on. It'll be a contest.”

“How about we really get the community involved?” Piett nodded. “We could sign up surfers from all over the island. It could be huge.” His tight face might have smirked. “We'll win anyway, of course. Mr. Vader is the best surfer there ever was.”

Hobbie dumped a glass of Coke over his head. “Aw, go dry off, ya tight wad.”

The fight was spilling out onto the porch, and then onto the front lawn. Luke, Hobbie, and Deak held onto Vader, walloping his arms and back. The sounds of sirens echoed down the street as blue and red lights flashed. “Boss, it's the cops!” Ozzel was already across the street. “We gotta get outta here, or we're gonna end up spendin' our summer in the slammer!”

“He's right.” Piett carried himself with more dignity. “We'll have to return when there's not so many people at home.”

“You're all staying right here!” Tarkin stood his ground, but the Imperials ignored him. “Empire Industries wants this property, and it's in our rights...”

“I ain't stayin' here another minute.” Vader was already dashing for the beach. “This place is fuckin' insane! If you wanna stay an' get egged and turned into a painting project, that's on you, Mr. T.”

“Boys! Get back here this instant!” Tarkin didn't have the chance to go after him. Leia and the nerds tumbled out of one police car. An Arabic youth in a dark apron and his taller, dark-haired, bespectacled friend jumped from another.

“Damn it! Vader's getting away!” Luke turned to the Rogues. “Do any of you have a surfboard nearby?”

Hobbie handed his red and white board from under the table to him. “Good thing I didn't listen to Kenobi's rule about no surfboards in the cottages.”

“Thanks!” Luke started after the retreating Imperials before Leia or the police could stop him.

Four of the Imperials, including Vader, had made it to the green and red motorboat. Luke tried to concentrate as he swum out in the chilly morning waters. He pulled himself up as a bitchin' wave came, pushing the Imperials further out.

As he closed his eyes and stood on the board, he seemed to hear Uncle Ben's voice on the breeze. Luke, trust me. Let go. Stretch out with your feelings.

The Imperials were all watching him. Vader saw him out of the corner of his eye, smirking. “Hey, little jerk's pretty damn good!” Luke took the wave along the coast, following the barrel right to the their boat. “He's better than good. He might even be decent. Maybe a contest ain't such a bad idea after all.”

“His name is Walker.” Fett side-eyed Vader. “Luke Walker. Ben Kenobi's nephew from Philly. He and his sister's down for the summer, helping the geezer out.” He started to pull on the throttle. “Isn't your last name Walker...or it was, a long time ago?”

Vader turned his visor on him. “I'd tell you not to call me that, ever, or I'll rip your intestines out, but you're driving.” Ozzel pulled a gun out of a trunk under the seats. “Yo, buddy!” The hulking man lunged for his hand. “Don't kill him! You want his blood to bring sharks?”

“The water's too friggin' cold for sharks.” Ozzel aimed his gun. “If we could just get rid of that little bastard...”

Ozzel's aim never hit its target. Luke came out of the barrel just as an explosion rocketed the water on the other side of the boat, sending spray in all directions. Luke heard the “Waaahooooo!” loud and clear from the deck of the Millennium Falcon as it raced across the water.

“You're all clear, kid,” Hank called over the side. “Now, let's get these jerks and go home!”

“Not today!” Vader yelled as Fett cranked up the juice on the Slave 1. “We're outta here!”

“Damn it!” Luke clutched his board as the Falcon drifted towards him. “Hank,” he called up to him, “they're getting away!”

“I think getting back to the cottages is more important.” Charlie threw down a rope. “How's your climbin', lad?” He lowered a net next. “Toss the board in this. We'll give you both a lift.”

Most of the residents were on the porch of Ben Kenobi's cottage when Luke, Hank, and Charlie finally made it back from Brentwood Marina. They had their arms around each other and were belting “The Eye of the Tiger” at the top of their lungs.

“You did it!” Leia bounced over to them. “You were amazing!” Her grin fell quickly. “Uncle Ben's going to be out of commission for a while. He has broken ribs, a twisted knee, multiple contusions on his arms and face, and a fractured ankle. The doctor says he'll be in the hospital for a week, but he'll probably be resting at home for the rest of the summer.”

“Here.” Hank opened his wallet and handed Leia the money Ben gave him. “Use this for his medical bills. I don't need it.”

Luke flung his arms around him. “Thank you, Hank. You are a good friend.”

Hank ruffled his hair. “I wasn't going to let you get all the credit and take all the reward!”

Leia beamed. “I knew there was more to you than money.” She lead the boys to one of the police cars. Wedge, the Rogues, and Chirrut and Baze were already telling their sides of the story to two officers on the sidewalk. “Officer Madine wants to talk to you. I've already told them about the kidnapping. They want your sides.”

“Hey Luke!” Wedge shook his shoulder as Hank and Leia told the red-bearded officer about her rescue. “How about a we have a special party tonight for all the Cottage residents? I think we owe ourselves one. It could be a picnic. Everyone could contribute. Folks who gotta work could bring their contribution to our place this afternoon.”

“I like that idea.” Luke grinned. “I think we have a lot of plans to make. All of us.”