with valuable assistance from Josh C. :)
I found a seat while everyone settled down to go back to the movie. I was still smarting from where Kristy had punched me in greeting, and I still wasn't sure if the force of the blow had meant she was glad to see me. It had been a while, after all. Everyone - except Syl, of course - looked that little bit older, a little more careworn. It looked good on them.
But there were rugrats. Quite a lot of them. A few I recognised from Thayer and Becki's family photos, but not all of them. I wasn't used to having so many small figures running around in the Batcave - some unused part of my brain was trying to tell me that the Ewoks were loose again. But given that at least one of the parents had a lightsabre, it wouldn't do to treat the kids like I might treat Ewok warriors. Plus they'd probably cry more.
I found a spare space to sit to watch the movie, but it was clear the kids weren't aware of the quality of the cinematic gem that was playing on the screen. I was something new in their world, so I was worth exploring.
One of the older kids - Becki's oldest, Riehn - walked up to me and announced loudly that he was a prince.
"Is that so?" I asked him. He nodded a lot, so I stood up and did my best courtly bow. I'm sure that in the annals of competitive courtly bowing I'd probably only rate a mention as what not to do, but it seemed to satisfy the young prince. It didn't, however, satisfy the other kids.
After all, the reasoning seemed to go, they all knew Riehn and there wasn't anything particularly special about him. So if he got a bow, clearly the rest of them were entitled to one as well. Or several, as it turned out. I doubt the practice did my bowing any good, but I did more bowing in ten minutes than I had in the last ten years.
That's when one of the other kids - I'd seen her hanging around Josh and Lenka, so she might have been theirs - shyly confided in me that her daddy could do magic. I nodded seriously, and told her that I couldn't, but I prepared my party trick.
"Not even a little?" she asked.
I shook my head, popped my eye out of its socket, and pretended to polish the front of it while saying, "Not even a little bit. No magic at all." And I put my eye back in as if there was nothing unusual about it. (Harder than it may sound - the contacts always sting a little when they re-engage.)
She stared at me, open-mouthed, for a bit, and then went running over to Josh and Lenka.
I spent the rest of the movie as a walking novelty and a bow dispenser, popped my eye out a few times more, and looked bewildered at the suggestion that my eye ever came out of its socket. It seemed to keep the kids entertained, anyway. The children progressively became more tired as the movie rolled on, however, and I was actually able to watch the Vader-Luke lightsabre fight in its entirety. It was strange to see the special-effects lightsabres on a big screen - at that size, I could spot the tiny differences from a real lightsabre. The sound effects were still spot-on, though.
The movie ended and the lights came back on, showing the carnage fatigue had wrought on the junior contingent.
Thayer declared that it was clearly bedtime for the children, and that they'd have to watch Jedi some other time. Kristy looked around at the wreckage of the picnic and said, "I guess we should clean this up."
"Crispy and I'll get it," said Cochran. "You can help on rugrat patrol." Syl and Becki were already corralling the more mobile children, while Thayer and Mike scooped up some of the sleepers.
I knew that tone of voice. That wasn't the 'I'm volunteering you' tone of voice. That was the 'I'm going to be saying nasty things to you, shortly, and we're going to pretend I didn't' tone of voice. I was in for something, I just didn't know what.
*************
"You've got some great kids, there," I said once we'd been left with the cleanup. We were going to talk anyway, so I figured I'd lead with something nice.
"Yeah," he said, smiling slightly. "I'm a lucky man." One-on-one, I had more of a chance to size him up. He seemed different from how I remembered him. He'd ditched the cockiness he used to have, and replaced it with a serenity I'd not seen in him before. He was in excellent shape, still, and I had no doubt he'd be capable of blinding bursts of speed, yet he was thoroughly relaxed. No, it went deeper than relaxation. He was part of the world around him. I got the impression he could stand still in broad daylight and people would just ignore him as part of the scenery. Not because he was unremarkable - he hadn't shrunk any - but just because he moved with humility and awareness.
He was a Jedi.
It's quite the fashionable thing for underworld figures out in the galaxy to have a tame Jedi to show off, who can tell truth from lies and maybe even kill you with their brain. For the most part, those so-called Jedi only have a tinge of Force ability, but that's still more than most people are used to dealing with. But having met actual Jedi, it's hard to keep from feeling a little sorry for the posers. I'd lied bald-facedly to some of those truthfinders before, and they hadn't been able to pierce my facade, mainly because they didn't impress me.
Cochran wasn't a poser. He was the real deal, and if I tried lying to him he'd know. He might not be able to figure out the actual truth if I didn't tell him, but he wasn't about to be fooled.
"So, you're back," he said, and a part of my brain had to add from outer space. Dis's taste in music can leave a mark.
"I'm back," I said. "Thayer asked and I couldn't say no." I crouched and began sweeping up crumbs of what might once have been cake.
"Must have been tough to tear yourself away," he said, while apparently intent on mopping the floor. "Where have you been, anyway?"
Oooh, subtle. He asked casually but we both knew it was anything but casual. "Hither and yon," I said, though, because I wanted to sound casual too. "My official job description is 'self-funded asset', I believe," I said. "Basically, I'm a bounty hunter, sometimes a merc, but I'm expected to report on developments and stuff."
"Infiltrating groups as well?" he asked.
"Sometimes," I said, and cut to the chase. "And yes, they're expecting me to report on you guys as well."
Cochran paused in his mopping and turned around to face me. "You were planning on telling us, weren't you?"
I gestured at the movie screen. "I wasn't about to interrupt the movie." All crumbs collected, I stood up. "I remember berating Brad about this sort of thing back when this all started, and I didn't want to become a hypocrite."
"Back when this all started, we were just kids," said Cochran. "These days the stakes are higher."
I was going to make some flippant remark about how stopping the Empire taking over the Earth was pretty high-stakes, but he was looking at a bunch of discarded toys on the ground. His meaning was clear - it wasn't just ourselves we were risking these days. Not that I had any kids of my own, but I wasn't about to start risking other people's kids, either.
"All the more reason to be clear about what's going on," I managed. "It wasn't my intention to leave you guys in the dark. If this means I get excluded from planning or whatever, then so be it. I have to feed something back to the NRI or they'll send someone else, and you might not see the alternative coming."
"Better the devil we know, huh?" he asked. "Just how loyal are you to the NRI, anyway?"
Man, no pussyfooting around, there. "About as loyal as you were to the US government," I said. "I wasn't in a position to steal a jet fighter, though." I wondered if I was telling the truth, but I didn't feel like I was lying.
His eyes flashed at that reminder. "Less than that, I think," he said mildly, but I didn't need the Force to feel him stamping down that brief burst of anger. Way to go, Crispy, piss off the Jedi, of all people, when you're supposed to be winning him over.
"You're probably right," I agreed, trying to pour oil on those troubled waters. Not like the oil that got set on fire when Cochran crashed the jet fighter BRAIN SHUT UP YOU'RE NOT HELPING.
"How soon do you have to give a report?" he asked.
"A few days. Right now there's atmospheric interference. Terrible timing."
He smiled as he caught that blatant lie, and nodded approvingly. "Good. That'll give us some time to figure out what to do with you."
If life had a soundtrack, there would have been a jarring chord after that sentence. "Can you try and make that sound a little less ominous?"
"Nope." His eyes sparkled, just a little, but I still wasn't assured he wasn't going to have me tied up and thrown in a cupboard. Probably not. Maybe.
"Thanks." That, too, was a lie. I grabbed a half-full crate of toys and began to increase its fullness.
"How's the stormie, these days?" He asked.
"Integrated," I said. "No split personality any more. He was always me, but I'm more than just him. And I stay that way."
He took that on board with a grateful nod.
"One last thing, though, before the others get back," he said.
I waited for him to go on, and when he didn't, I said, "Yeah?"
"She's made her choice, and it's not you."
Ow.
I didn't have to ask which 'she' he was talking about. The same 'she' who'd ambushed me outside the Batcave by screaming "DON'T KILL ME!" The same 'she' who I'd shared literal, actual, while-you-were-sleeping dreams with. The same 'she' who'd shrugged off me nearly beating her to death like it wasn't even a thing. The same 'she' I'd walked some kind of astral gauntlet to save. The same 'she' who'd jumped into the arms of a pilot.
Yes, I know I didn't have any claim on her. Yes, I know that I should just get over her and move on. Yes, Cochran, I even know that she's made the choice, and I am painfully aware that it wasn't me. I know that carrying a torch for so long is unhealthy and unproductive. I know this because I've done it and it really, really sucks, and I'd almost put it out of my mind until you reminded me. Argh.
"My head knows that," I told him. "It doesn't seem to have a vote on the matter. Logic isn't part of it. Wish it was."
I straightened up, carrying the now-full crate of toys, and nearly threw it away when he clapped me on the shoulder. I'd had him tracked as metres away, but he'd crossed that distance without tipping me off at all. I'm not good with those sorts of surprises.
"You can't solve problems by running away from them," he told me. "Take it from someone who knows."
I nodded, trying to get my heartrate down. I didn't trust myself to speak because I was pretty certain my voice'd come out in a squeak.
"It's good to see you again," he said. "After all, with you around, we know who's going to get hurt first."