Turn the Tables ch22

  Luka had no idea what hour of the night it was. Lio had fallen asleep beside him as he continued working on a blueprint draft. The mounted lights in the mine had become dimmer than usual and the strongest source of light was now Luka’s tablet. Its white-purple light cast shadows on the mine wall behind him.

  Quick, precise strokes of the stylus pen made the curve of an archway. Gradually, a rather alien looking building came to life on the screen. Luka paused every now and then to look over his work. He jumped slightly when Lio took a deep breath. The young boy mumbled incoherent words and Luka couldn’t help but smile. Lio, although sometimes a pest, was one of the few well-behaved younglings Luka looked after.

  Luka sighed and returned to his draft. Moments later he heard the all too familiar boom of an explosion. Lio started awake, his eyes wide. Luka jumped as well.

  “Wh-what was that?! Luke, what was that?” Lio asked, terrified.

  Luka looked toward the hall, the direction the explosion came from. In a matter of seconds he heard screams and shouts. He put his tablet aside and got to his feet, reaching for his rifle.

  “. . . Luke?” the young boy asked again, beginning to panic.

  Luka glanced at him. “Stay here, Lio.” He told him as he headed toward the main den, where he thought the explosion came from.

  “But-” the small voice protested.

  “Don’t move, Lio. Please.” He left the room. Lio obeyed and remained where he was in the hangar.

  In the main den, all the rebels had awoken and were engaged in a fight against a force of Loyalists. The explosion had blown away a good amount of the rock that surrounded the tunnel entrance as well as claimed a few nearby rebels. A Loyalist cried out in pain from several shots to his body.

  Luka decided to check up on the other younglings first before going out to fight. He ran down another corridor and turned again and entered the fair-sized room where the younglings and their supervisors stayed. They all turned their attention to him when he came in. The instructors were also in the room. The head instructor stepped toward him.

  “Luka, it’s good to see you’re alright. Listen,” the head instructor started. Luka looked up at him. He continued. “You and the rest of the supervisors will need to stay here with the younglings and look after them. The other instructors and I need to eliminate our attackers.”

  Luka nodded and in a flurry of sound and voices, the instructors took up their weapons and left the room. A few supervisors were holding panicked younglings in their arms. One of the younglings, a female, walked up to Luka and tugged on his shirt.

  “What’s going to happen?” she asked in a tiny voice when he looked down at her. He shook his head, letting her know he didn’t quite know what was to happen.

  Another male supervisor spoke up from across the room. “Obviously they’re Loyalists. Bloody bastards, that’s what they are.”

  “Sush!” scolded a female supervisor with spiral curled antennae. She covered the ear spots of the youngling in her lap. “Watch your language!”

  The male shrugged.

  One of the young Irkens hugged his knees to his chest and rocked himself back and forth. Tiny whimpers escaped his lips. The female pulled him close to her and tried to comfort him.

  Luka’s eyes suddenly widened. Lio was still in the hangar! Quickly but cautiously, Luka dashed out of the room, ignoring the calls from the other supervisors for him to stay. He had to get Lio first. He ran down the corridor and stopped the hall that led to the hangar. He heard voices and shuffling feet. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. They had already made it to the hangar, but the noise from the den hadn’t ceased. Peeking around the corner, Luka found that the soldiers weren’t looking in his general direction and took the opportunity to slink into the hangar and crouch behind a parked ship, rifle in hands.

  There he waited for the soldiers to pass, and in time they did. Luka remained absolutely quiet as they passed by him. He waited until he guessed they were far enough away before he emerged from his hiding place.

  “Lio?” he whispered. He walked about the room quietly. “Lio!” he called in a whisper again.

  His answer was a faint moan of agony coming from across the room. The instant her heard it he swore he felt his squeedlyspooch do a somersault. He made his way toward the cry and couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Lying before him was Lio. The boy was gripping his gut and was curled up in a fetal position. Luka dropped to his knees and let his rifle fall from his hands. He carefully picked up the young Irken and held him in his arms. Lio opened his eyes and looked up at his supervisor. Weakly, he called Luka’s name. He reached up and clutched Luka’s shirt in his small hands.

  The boy’s own shirt was bloody. A bullet had ripped into his abdomen and the young boy was bleeding. Luka cradled him in his arms and tried to keep from crying. He knew he was much too late. Even if he did remove the bullet right away it wouldn’t mean the youngling would have any more of a chance of surviving. The boy called his name again between labored breaths.

  Luka hushed him gently. “It’s okay, Lio. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.” He tried to say as truthfully as possible. He held him close and began to rock him from side to side. Lio closed his eyes and was soothed by the sound of Luka’s heartbeat. An organic melody he was so familiar with. Its relaxing tempo seemed to take all the pain away from him.

  Luka had completely forgotten about the battle in the other part of the mine. Tears streamed down his face as he continued rocking Lio. He wished this had never happened. Here, in his arms, an innocent soul was being slowly snatched from him. One thin thread that, when pulled, unravels all the others. He felt that slight tug on the thread as Lio’s breathing because heavier and shallower and his grip loosened.

  Lio tried to keep a tight grip on Luka’s shirt. He found it harder to breathe with each second that passed. He was afraid of the end, but he tried to concentrate on his supervisor’s steady heartbeat, a battle drum whose constant beating was muffled by the cavity in which it pounded triumphantly. He felt his pain waning soon and his breaths became softer and shallower. He didn’t even realize his grip on Luka’s shirt had vanished and his hand now rested at his side. He became lost by the soothing melody and the gentle swaying.

  It was as if the boy only fell asleep in his arms. The rest of the world didn’t matter to Luka at the moment. He was here with Lio, solacing him in his last moments. He closed his eyes and held the young Irken close as he leaned from side to side.