The Rebel League and the Death Ray, Part 3

Luke stepped into the interior of one of his favorite places. Every inch of the long, cramped room was covered in crates and boxes of comics. There were reprints, titles dating back to before the war. The racks on the walls were lined with the latest titles. Ben had everything. Horror and mystery comics by Gold Key, romance, Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge. He was tempted to see if there was a reprint of his favorite Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge comic, The Golden Helmet, around.

Charlie wandered to the back end, where several battered recliners and tables were set up for people to read. “If you don't mind, I'd like to relax for a while. All this rushing about has frankly left me exhausted.”

“Sure. Go ahead.” The young man shrugged as he browsed through one of the boxes. The voices of Ben and Rudy looking for Ben's old tape player behind his ratty plywood counter vaguely reached his ears. He was about to pull out one of the Donald Duck comics when something familiar caught his eye.

“The Jedi Knights.” He read the faded blue ink script on the paper tabs between comic collections. “I can't believe it! This must be the whole run.” Ben watched as the young man flipped excitedly through the contents, reading each title as he dropped it on the crate next to him. “The Hero Without Fear? He's my favorite! And the Purple Warrior! Oh, and Aalaya Secura, the Mistress of the Blade, and Yoda, the Grand Master. And there's even the one about little Caleb, who could turn into Captain Incredible. And the Negotiator...”

Ben smiled at Luke's enthusiasm. “I see you're a great fan of my work.”

That brought him up from the crate, clutching a ratty copy of Whiz-Bang Stories #11. “You wrote these? You're the creator of the Jedi Knights?”

“Actually, we all worked on them.” Ben sighed. “They're...about our exploits. We wrote them during and after World War II.”

That brought him behind the counter. He dropped his stack on the Formica top, then pulled up a chair. “You fought in World War II? And who's 'we?' The rest of your team?”

Rudy threw an arm around Ben. It barely reached his back. “We both did, shorty. In fact, we all did. Charlie was barely more n' your age then.”

His friend made a face. “Please don't remind me. I was traumatized enough with being involved with the war as it was.”

“I haven't used the name 'Negotiator' since before you were born, Luke.” The floor under Ben creaked as he leaned back in his chair. “Luke,” he added softly, “your father Anthony...he was the Hero With No Fear.”

“You're kidding.” Luke's jaw nearly dislocated from dropping so far. “My father wasn't a superhero. He was a foreman at the Mufasar Iron Works.”

Ben's breath drew in a bit at the mention of the Iron Works, but he just sounded annoyed when he continued. “That's Owen talking. His only powers are being stubborn as a brick and making quality furniture. He didn't hold with your father's ideals, or his abilities, for that matter. He wanted him to stay home and weld chair legs together, not run around and help the innocent.”

“I wish I'd known him.” Luke scooted closer as Rudy fiddled with Ben's tape player.

“He was the best friend I ever had, and an incredible partner.” The old man pulled a crate into his lap. “His powers were fire-based, mainly. He could create fire with just his hands, could blow it, could burn or heal anything in his path, depending on how hot he made the flame.”

An older Jedi Knights comic landed in Luke's lap. “There. Whiz Bang Comics, #3. That's where your father made his first appearance, when he was only 9.” The older man chuckled. “He was my sidekick then. Blazing Boy. We first called him Blazing Man when he came of age, but when that name was taken, he became the Hero With No Fear.”

“This is just...so much.” Luke paged through the comics, with Charlie peering over his shoulder. “I never dreamed that all of this was real.”

“Not only is it real, but you have those powers too, Luke.” Ben went to the back of the store, moving two crates and a box of back issues of The Fantastic Four. “I have something here. I wanted to give it to you when you were old enough, but your uncle said no. He feared it would distract you from your studies.”

Luke's eyes widened at the beautiful blue-bladed sword Ben pulled out of an old leather case. “Where did you get that? I know that sword. That's Blue Fire, the Hero With No Fear's Khyber Crystal blade. He slew Count Dooku of SITH and helped liberate Ryloth, France with that sword!”

“Well, this is one of them, anyway. He had the habit of losing them or breaking them. It's the last one he had, before...” Ben's voice caught in his throat as he handed it to Luke. “Well, my boy, go on. Give it a try.”

The moment Luke's hand touched the silver handle, he felt a...a jolt. Like something warm inside him, something long dormant, was finally awakening from a long slumber. Warm air and soft blue light circled his hands, eventually flowing over his body. To his shock, a blue light blew across the room like a tornado, sending boxes of comics flying and every single item on the counter and shelves onto the floor.

Charlie dove under the nearest table. “It's a tornado! Take cover!”

“No, it's...it's just me.” Luke's eyes were as big as blue porcelain saucers. He lifted the blue sword to the one sun beam coming from the dusty window in the back of the store. The moment the light hit the sword, it blasted into the counter, burning a substantial chunk of plywood and metal.

He jumped back from the beam in horror. “I'm sorry, Ben! Really, I am! My uncle should have a table at the shop that'll replace the counter, or I can make one...”

Charlie's lanky frame quivered under the table. “Is it safe to come out now?”

“Yeah, brave boy.” Rudy scooted over to retrieve his friend. “The light's gone.”

He scurried from under the table as fast as his long legs could carry him. “How did you do that, Luke? I didn't see you do anything like that before!”

“I didn't know I could do that!” Luke wailed, nearly falling into a chair. “This is so incredible.”

“Perhaps it's time we listened to that tape,” Ben insisted, “before something else happens with anyone's powers.” Rudy gave him a thumbs-up and hit the orange play button on the grimy cassette player. “I've been wondering what brought you here, besides buying comics.”

Luke put the sword aside and sat down next to Ben at the remains of the counter, avoiding the the smoking bits. “I'm wondering the same thing. They mentioned the message was really top-secret, like something out of a James Bond movie or something.”

“James Bond?” Rudy muttered. “More like Wonder Woman, shorty.”

The voice that spoke from the turning reels was the rich, warm contralto of a young woman. “General Kenobi,” she said with some urgency, “you served in my uncle Bail Ortega's unit with distinction during World War II. Now he calls on you for an equally desperate challenge. You must see to it that the plans for Vader's new Death Star weapon is delivered safely to my uncle at his mansion in Aldera Hills. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Negotiator. You're my only hope.”

“She has a beautiful voice.” Luke sat listening rapturously, his eyes never leaving the player. “She should be on the stage.”

“She's Force Girl.” Ben ejected the tape as it ran out. “A member of the Rebel League. You may have heard a bit about them.”

“The Rebel League?” Luke nearly fell out of his chair. “I've heard about them! They're the only people who fight against that Darth Vader character who attacked members of Coruscant City's council and destroyed and ransacked a lot of major tech and computer programming labs in Hosnia. Some of my friends say they've been personally rescued by them. Uncle Owen says they're meddlers, but I think they're brave. Vader would have caused a lot more damage if it wasn't for them.”

“No kidding.” Rudy patted the bag on his side. “The plans are right here on tape. They have some of those new, up-to-date computers with the square floppy discs insteada those big hard drive boxes. You wouldn't believe how many secrets you can store on these babies.”

The old man handed Luke the sword. “You'll learn the ways of the Force powers, lad. My abilities are mainly mental, and if you're anything like your father, you probably picked up a bit of telekinesis as well. I'll tell you more about it on the way to Aldera Hills.”

“Aldera Hills? That's all the way uptown!” Luke stood, checking his watch. “I've got to get home. I'm late enough as it is. I'll never hear the end of this from Uncle Owen.”

“I need your help, Luke. Force Girl and the Rebel League need your help.” Ben nodded at the tape. “I'm getting too old for this sort of thing.”

“Look, I can take you as far as Anchorhead Township,” Luke eventually admitted. “You can get a bus there to Aldera Hills, or wherever you're going.”

Ben just sighed. “I know you're worried about your uncle. You have family. You do what you feel is right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They'd barely gotten on the road in the Corvette when Luke heard the sirens and pulled aside. Three cop cars and a fire truck sped by them. “What's going on here?” Charlie asked nervously. “It looks more like a chase scene from a film than a day in a small town!”

“Fire. There must be. I wonder what's burning down?” Luke poked his head out the window as he turned his car onto Kirby Street. “I hope they're all right. Some of these buildings are pretty old. I know they don't have sprinkler systems.”

Ben's eyes widened as he poked his head out the front passenger side. “Luke, that smoke looks like it's coming from Palm Street! Which block do you and your aunt and uncle live on?”

“Shit!” Luke stepped on the gas, sending the car skidding around the curb and racing across Simon Boulevard. “If the fire spreads to the shop, it'll go up like a matchstick. Uncle Owen keeps a ton of flammable woodworking stuff down there, including most of the wood and furniture.”

Luke figured he was lucky that he didn't get a ticket, but at that point, he didn't care. Uncle Owen may have been stubborn and Aunt Bertha thought he was her little boy, but they were the closest things he had to real parents. The Caddy sped by a garbage truck manned by a couple of short guys in mud brown jumpsuits and three snazzy white Corvette Stingrays filled with men in white and black suits before nearly flying onto Palm Street.

He managed to wedge between two cop cars and a fire truck as he pulled up next to the shop. A thick plume of gray smoke wafted out of the roof as the local volunteer firefighter squad battled the flames that licked the windows. Luke shoved his way out of the car and pushed between people, looking for his aunt and uncle.

Aunt Bertha was sitting on a gurney, wrapped in a slightly ratty blue and green calico quilt. She held Uncle Owen's hand...but his squint would never look into her brown orbs again. Red blotches stood out from under the thin sheet, and his skin had the pasty look of newly-mixed whitewash paint.

“Aunt Bertha!” He stumbled into her arms. “Are you all right? What happened? Who did this to Uncle Owen?”

“Luke!” Bertha held him as hard as she could. “Thank god you're alive!” Her cherubic face was smeared with soot, but all Luke cared about was she was warm and alive. “I don't care what Owen thought of Ben. I'm glad you went to him.” Luke let her hold him as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

“They came two minutes after you left.”

He gulped back a sob in his aunt's arms. “Who? Who came?”

“The Shadow Men. Some people call them the Shadow Warriors. The Empire's men. I've seen their pictures in the papers.” She squeezed Owen's hand. “He told me to hide in the basement. I took the back way out as soon as I heard the shots. They were asking him about two men and a bag of tapes...”

“Aunt Bertha,” Luke took her by the shoulders, “we know about the tapes. They're in our hands. We're going to get them to the Rebel League. That's all I can tell you.”

The older woman gently chuckled, shaking her head. “Luke, I do read the papers. I watch the nightly news. I know all about Vader and his Empire. I know they want to take over the City. Owen liked to think he was shielding you and me from the world, but I knew better. No one can hide forever.”

“What are you going to do?” Tears burst in a flood down Luke's tanned cheeks. “Where will you go?”

“I have friends on the other side of town. I'll stay with them until things are settled.” Her smile was shaky. “I'm stronger than I look.” It fell the moment her eyes returned to her husband's form. “He would have wanted you to be happy, Luke. I think he would have understood eventually about you wanting to move out. About how you had to fly.”

Luke gave her one last hug. “I'll find who did this, Aunt Bertha. I'll find who ordered Uncle Owen killed, and I'll help Ben get those tapes into the right hands.” He thought of telling her about his powers right then and there, but a police officer tapped her on her shoulder to get a statement. She gave her nephew a kiss on his cheek and let the officer lead her away.

He was about to return to Ben when a towering young woman pushed her way over to him. “Hello? Mr. Lars?” Her scarlet tresses fell in flowing waves down her back, pulled back with simple clips. She wore a dark teal spring suit with black accents that brought out the emerald green in her eyes. Cherry-red lips hovered over a microphone tagged with a Channel 11 block. “My name is Mara Jadeson. I'd like to have a few words with you about the fire.”

“I'm sorry,” Luke muttered, pulling back. “First of all, my last name is Skylander, not Lars. I was his nephew. Second, I wasn't here when it happened. I was...visiting a friend.” He tried to ignore the hot flame rising in his cheeks and his heart thumping in time with “Undercover Angel” blasting from the pizza parlor across the street. “I don't know what happened here. Only what my aunt says.”

“I already talked to Mrs. Lars. She told me men in white and black suits shot her husband and burned her home.” Her pale aquiline nose sniffed. “I doubt that. She must have seen something else in all the smoke. It was probably one of those gangs that hang out down on Kirby and Simon.”

“No!” Luke glared at her. “My aunt wouldn't lie. If she saw Imperials killing my uncle, then I believe her. Besides, the gangs wouldn't have anything to do with us.”

Her crimson lips turned up in a smirk. “Maybe that uncle of yours owed them money.”

“Uncle Owen wasn't like that!” His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure she could hear it over the noise from the fire trucks and the music. “He owed the usual mortgage on the shop, but nothing worse than that. What are you doing here, anyway? Why don't you go chase an ambulance or something?”

She waved the microphone under his nose. “Is that all you have to say for the audience, Mr. Skylander?”

“Yes.” He wished he could blow her off the face of the planet. He settled for touching her microphone and letting a sunbeam fry it. She let out a shriek as the crackling energy caused it to smoke and dropped it, blowing on her fingers. “Now, go chase a real story and stop bothering decent, normal people!” He finally shoved away from her, wiping fiercely at his watery eyes. He didn't think she was cute at all. He did NOT. She was a meddling busybody with no respect for people who just suffered a huge loss.

Ben made his way through the crowd to the sobbing youth. “There's nothing you could have done, Luke, had you been there. You might have been shot or burned to death, too, and those tapes would be in Vader's hands.”

The boy wiped his stinging red-rimmed eyes fiercely with the back of his hand. “Teach me everything you know about these powers, Ben. I want to be as great of a hero as my father.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore Ben winced at the mention of his father being a great hero. “We're going to have to be more wary of women like Mara Jadeson. Not only is she one of the lead anchors on the Channel 11 Nightly News, but she's also Mayor Stephan Palpatine's ward and right-hand woman. Anything she finds out eventually returns to him.”

Rudy whistled, his blue eyes shining. “Too bad you pissed her off, shorty. She's cute.”

“She is not cute!” Luke flushed even redder. “She thought Uncle Owen owed someone money!”

“We'll deal with her later.” Ben lead Luke to the car. “Right now, we're going to talk to a young man who's done some work for me in the past. He owes me a favor. He may be able to help us.”

Charlie easily kept up with him, thanks to his long, skinny legs in their mustardy plaid bell-bottoms. “I' sure anyone you know would be a good, solid, trustworthy gentleman.”

The older man chuckled. “I'm not sure I'd call him that. He usually hangs out at the Mos Eisley Cantina on Kane Avenue.”