The Rebel League and the Death Ray, Part 2

Luke Skylander turned up “Blinded By the Light” as he climbed into the front seat of the van. He swore he heard voices behind him as he was finishing out his dog-eared copy of Revenge of the Sith Knights #2. He nearly jumped a mile as a short man leaped into the passenger's seat, followed by a much taller and thinner fellow with a sallow horse-like face.

“Kid, we need your help.” The shorter man clutched a slightly singed white bag. “This is big, kid. We have to get this to the Negotiator. We were told he runs a comics shop on Kirby Street in Tatoonie.”

The young man's eyes widened. “I know that shop! Old Ben MacKenner owns it. I bought all my Jedi Knights comics from there. Which,” he added in annoyance as he tugged at a couple of what Rudy thought were magazines under him, “you are sitting on! They don't make those anymore!”

“Jedi Knights?” Rudy lifted himself enough for the blond kid to retrieve his precious comics. “You're into that, kid? Aren't you a little old for that? Besides,” he added with a cough, “that series ended twenty years ago.”

“I know guys who are older than me who read comics, and Mr. MacKenner is ancient.” Luke made a face. “Look, I have to take the van back to my uncle's. I just finished the last furniture haul of the day. After I give it to him, I'll take you to Mr. MacKenner's.”

The taller man put up a hand. “We meant no offense, lad, and we appreciate the ride.” He pulled what appeared to be a battered notebook covered in scrawls from under his behind. “By the way, my name is Charles Thompson, but most people refer to me as Charlie. You may do the same.”

“Yeah, blondie.” Rudy shook his hand while they waited for a red light. “Rudolph Detonski. Call me Rudy. It's a lot easier to say and makes me sound less like a reindeer.”

Luke gave them his sunny smile. “Luke Skylander.”

Rudy raised an eyebrow. “Any relation to Anthony Skylander?”

“He was my father.” The sunny smile dropped. “He died in a knife fight right after he came home from the Korean War, or so my uncle says. I never knew him.”

“That name,” Charlie began as he rubbed his long chin, “sounds oddly familiar...”

Rudy elbowed him. “That's because we were in his unit, remember? Snips called him Skyguy, but we usually called him Tony. He was a great guy,” he added, too quickly, “and one of my best buddies.”

“You're going to have to tell me all about him later.” Luke turned onto a dusty street lined with slightly wilted palms and mellow brick and stucco shops. “Uncle Owen and Aunt Bertha won't talk about my parents. They say my mother died giving birth to me. I didn't know her, either. I don't even have any pictures.”

“You're a lot like him,” Rudy decided. “Same wavy blond hair and blue eyes. Your smile is more like your mother's, though. She was...she was one of the good ones. Smart, gorgeous, sweet as a honeysuckle.”

Two college textbooks on engineering and a heavy book on piloting an airplane were wedged under the passenger seat. “You're attending university, I see, young Luke.” Charlie smiled approvingly. “Good for you. Have you decided on your major yet?”

Luke sighed. “Not really.” He hadn't entirely decided what he wanted to do with his life. He loved building, sure...but he also loved fantasy. If he wasn't tinkering with his uncle's van or his ancient 1950's Cadillac (it was the only thing at the used car lot he could afford), his nose was deep in the latest issue of X-Men or Justice League or Spider Man or science fiction novels with titles like The Hostage of Zir or Moonstar Odyssey. Someday, he wanted to write his own comics...or at the very least, he wanted to fly, either as a cargo pilot or in the army. If he couldn't fly a plane, he'd repair them. Anything to get him in the air!

He pulled in alongside the boxy brick building and waved to the grizzled man in the shapeless coveralls coming out of the shop. “Uncle Owen! I got the money you wanted from Mr. Carter. He was really weird about it. Sometimes, I swear that man is from Mars or something.” He handed him the purse with his uncle's half of the day's take.

“That man is always making excuses.” He frowned as he flung open the passenger side door...and two bodies tumbled out. “What in the hell is this?”

Rudy, having less leg, managed to get untangled first.”Uh, yeah, hi, Owen.” He gave the man his friendliest smile. “Long time, no see. Didn't realize this was your nephew. He's a good kid. He was nice enough to give us a ride.”

“Detonski.” Owen glared at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with those nutjobs back in Coruscant.” He turned his angry face on Luke. “And what are you doing picking up hitchhikers?”

“With all due respect, sir,” Charlie tried to explain, “it was really our faults. We needed a ride and jumped into the nearest car. It was quite wrong of us.”

Luke shrugged. “I didn't mind driving them. No harm done.”

“Gentlemen,” Charlie went on in his most fastidious accent, “we don't have the time for argument. We're hardly hitchhikers. It's of the utmost importance that we find a comics shop on Kirby Street and talk to its owner.”

“I know that shop!” Luke's grin almost split his face. “I can drive you there. Ben's kind of like a hermit, but...”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Have you been wasting your money on comics again? I've told you to focus on your studies. The Negotiator is just a character, not some hero. Real heroes don't hide behind masks and swords.”

“Uncle Owen,” Luke started, “I am focusing on my studies! Comics are just a way for me to relax, that's all.” He stuck his chin in the air. “And The Negotiator and the Hero Without Fear are real heroes, Uncle. In the comics, they saved thousands of lives during World War II and the Korean War.”

“So you say.” His uncle waved his hand in his face. “I want you to stay away from that shop. MacKenner is just a crazy old man, and the Negotiator is a fake character from a dumb kid's book. I don't want you in that part of town. There's drug deals that go on there. You could get shot, or mugged, or murdered. That's where your father...where he died.”

Luke's eyes shined. “Do you think Ben might have known my father?”

“Just forget about it.” Owen made a face. “Let these two take the bus down there, if they want to get killed.”

“We don't have time for that!” Charlie wailed. “This is of the utmost importance to national security, sir! People's lives may be in danger!”

While they were arguing, Rudy had edged over to the van. Luke turned around, just in time to see him jump into the driver's side. “Hey!” He ran over, just in time to see the van swing away from the curb and head down Palm and around the corner.

“What's he doing?” Charlie screeched. “He doesn't know where he's going!”

“Plus, he just stole my van!” Owen added angrily.

“All my Jedi Knights comic books were in there!” Luke added in a near-whine.

Owen turned his glare to Luke. “How did he manage to do that, boy?”

His nephew's tanned cheeks turned scarlet. “I may have left the keys in there when the guys fell out.”

“Mr. Skylander,” Charlie went on hastily, “if I may apologize for my companion, Rudy has always been a bit of a problem. Even I can't understand his logic at times. I think it might be his age.”

“We may be able to follow him in my car,” Luke insisted. “Just let me change and get a few things.” Luke rushed upstairs to the apartment as Charlie settled down next to the counter in the well-stocked shop.

On the way out, he nearly ran into Aunt Bertha in the kitchen. Her fingers moved deftly across her bamboo cutting board as she chopped onions and boiled bow-tie pasta for her spring pasta salad. Luke's mouth watered as he pulled on his jacket and snitched two Crunchy Jumble Cookies with chocolate chips and Rice Krispies.

“Luke,” she said without looking over her shoulder, “if you're going to snitch from the cookie jar, give two to your uncle, too. He needs the energy as much as you. He still has two chairs and a side table to work on tonight.”

“I won't forget.” He hoped he didn't see him snitch a third one and stick it in his pocket. “Aunt Bertha,” he added quickly as he swallowed his cookie, “what would you say to me moving out on my own? Almost everyone I know has their own place. I'm the only one still at home.”

“I'd say it's about time.” She turned around to him in her plaid shirt and blue jacket, smiling warmly. “You've grown up so fast. I remember when I held you in my arms for the first time. My heart just melted. And now...college. I'm so proud of you, Luke.” She warmly ruffled his hair...but her smile fell. “The one you have to convince is Owen. He had hopes that you'd stay and take over the shop. He only let you go to college to begin with for the business courses.”

“Hey!” Luke tried desperately to smooth down his already-messy golden mane. “Aunt Bertha, why won't he let that go? I'm not interested in business. I want to build things, fly planes. I could join the Air Force. I just turned 19 in April. I'm of age.”

Bertha sighed. “We'll talk to him about it later, all right? You just be careful out there.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing out there, anyway?”

“Driving a few friends across town.” He started backing away before he had to explain anything else. “I'll see you later! Won't be long!” The older woman just shook his head as he bumped into the counter and stumbled out the back door.

When he emerged downstairs twenty minutes later, he sported an old plaid shirt over a Howard the Duck t-shirt, bell-bottom jeans, and sneakers. A set of keys jangled in his fingers. “Uncle Owen, I already told Aunt Bertha where I was going. I'm going to take the Caddy. I'll be back as soon as we find Mr. Detonski.”

“You do that, boy.” Owen sighed. “You know I worry about you, Luke. You and Bertha are all the family I have left since my father died. I know all the crazy stuff you do with Biggs Darkman. I'm well aware of how you got the dent in the Caddy.”

“I'll be all right, Uncle Owen.” Luke climbed into the slightly dented 1957 Cadillac on the curb with a sigh. “I won't be racing anyone for a long time. Brian joined the army. He's at the Naboo Air Force Base. He might as well be on another planet.”

“I've told you, studies first. You're going to make something of yourself, Luke.” Owen poked his head in as he turned the motor. “I want you back in a half-hour or less.”

The engine starting nearly drowned out Luke's sigh. “All right, Uncle Owen.”

“I'm sorry about all this,” Charlie started again as the Caddy swung down Palm towards Ditko Avenue and around a shadowy corner to Atlas Boulevard. “We do need to find the Negotiator, but not by taking other people's property.”

“It's my fault. I shouldn't have left the keys in the car.” Kirby Street, with its older brick buildings filled with dingy stores and trash-strewn lots, came into view. Luke saw the back-end of a familiar brown van. “There he is! If I can get there in time, we might be able to cut him off.”

Luke swung the Caddy just as the van turned down an alley lined with metal trash cans between a Mexican grocery store and a gift shop that, from their window, mainly dealt in toys of a sexual nature. He leaped out, followed by Charlie, as Rudy got out of the van.

“Where do you think you're going?” The younger man with the thick blond hair glared at him. “My uncle's livid about you stealing my van.”

“Look, shorty, I have to get to the Negotiator.” Rudy waved the bag. “It's important!”

“I'm sorry,” Luke began, “but he's a character in the Jedi Knights comics. He doesn't exist.”

“He might not,” squawked Charlie, “but those men out there do!” He pointed to the nine young men in frayed jeans and dirty jackets with “Tusken Raiders” spelled out on the back, sporting what looked like ancient goggles and masks they probably stole from Fury Army Supply Store on the next block. They carried knives in their pockets and baseball bats over their shoulders.

Rudy groaned. “Great. Of all the times to have left my tools in the van!”

“Now, hold on fellas,” Luke started, putting up his hands. “We don't want any trouble.”

“You're in our turf now, shrimp.” The tallest and the strongest took a swing at him with his bat. “Get lost.”

Luke barely managed to duck away, grabbing the top of a trash can and throwing it at one of the men. It did knock him the ground, but two more jumped at him. “Well,” he admitted sheepishly to Rudy, “it always worked for Captain America.”

“Yeah, shorty,” Rudy grumbled as he ducked under one of their legs, “but you ain't Cap. Right now, anyway.” He kicked one man in the rear, barely missing the knife coming at him.

Charlie was hidden behind two trash cans. “Oh, hurt them! Don't let them get near me! I'm too young and handsome to die!”

“Ehh, they wouldn't want your skinny ass anyway, you coward.” Rudy flung over two trash cans onto them before one grabbed him by his collar and shoved him into the wall.

Luke had found an old mop in the trash and was trying to use it a weapon. This was everything he'd dreamed of, fighting crime and cleaning up the city...but it was harder than it looked! The punk moved fast. He managed to sweep his leg under Luke, knocking him to the concrete and breaking the mop in two.

“Say uncle, dickhead.” The gang leader was just about to stab him when what sounded like a voice through a megaphone blared through the alley, accompanied by a cop siren.

“All right!” The crisp English accent growled. “Tusken Raiders, you are under arrest! Come out with your hands up!”

“Shit!” The tallest jumped away. “The cops!” He stumbled away from Luke, nearly tripping over one of his men. “Let's get the hell out of here!”

Luke was still seeing stars when a hand reached behind his back. “Careful there, lad. You've had a busy day. You're fortunate to be in one piece.” Old Ben MacKenner, clad in tan slacks and a long, shapeless brown sweater that looked more like an old robe or cape, helped him to his feet. Deep blue eyes stared intently from under silvery brows and silver hair.

“Ben?” The youth leaned against the van, rubbing his head and squinting. “Boy, am I glad to see you. We could have been killed!”

“The Jutland District is not to be traveled lightly.” Ben joined Luke on the hood of the van. “What brings you out here, lad? I'm not expecting the new Avengers and Ms. Marvel titles for another three days.”

Rudy emerged from the wall, rubbing his own back. “It was my fault, Negotiator. I sort-of swiped Owen's van. I've got a message for you from Force Girl and the White Queen.”

“Negotiator?” Luke's eyes widened, and his mouth nearly hit the van. “You? You're the Negotiator? But Uncle Owen said he doesn't exist!”

“He doesn't. Well, not anymore.” Ben sighed and put his arm around Luke. “I think we'd better discuss this inside. The Raiders will run when they hear a police siren, but they'll be back, and in greater numbers.”

A pair of wide amber eyes poked out from behind the trash cans. “Is it safe to come out now?”

“Yes, Charlie.” Rudy made a face. “You can stop being a coward now. The Negotiator scared all the nasty gang members away.”

Charlie emerged from the cans, brushing the banana peels and old newspapers off his yellow plaid shirt. “Mr. MacKenner! What brings you to this god-awful spot?”

Ben sighed. “We'll explain that inside.”