Dear Reader,

Don’t ask me where this came from.  Maybe I should lay off the chocolate. 

As always, I own nothing, Mr. Lucas owns all.  I’m broke, so don’t bother to sue.

Love,

ChelleyBean

Plaything of the Gods:

Monkey Wrench

In the beginning there was nothing, until the Voice of God spoke “Let there be light” and it came to be.  And the Voice of God commanded there to be planets and stars and galaxies, and these things, too, came to be.  He divided the heavens from the earth and He sculpted continents amidst the oceans.  He brought forth creatures to populate the air and the lands and the seas, creating them with wondrous variety.  He created intelligent beings to rule over all his creations, beings sculpted in His Own image, and called them ‘Man’.  He stood and looked at all that He had made, and He found it most pleasing.

“And the prat has been beaming like a proud father ever since.” 

Lucifer, Lord of Lies and Ruler of Hell, sat upon his ebony throne, glaring into the darkness that surrounded him.  Contrary to the popular belief of many of the race of man, he was not a beast of fearsome appearance, nor was he red skinned with a tail and horns.  Lucifer was beautiful, for he had been the most comely of all of God’s angels.  He had once been the highest amongst them all and well favored by the Creator.  In time, he had come to feel that he, not God, should rule all, and he had gathered a following of those who agreed with him.  They had waged a war in Heaven, only to be defeated and cast out of Paradise.  And when he had been cast out, God did not mar his beauty or scar his face.  He had allowed Lucifer to remain as beautiful as he had been in Heaven.  This was further punishment for the fallen angel, for there was no one to appreciate his noble visage here.

He had come to detest men.  They were His favorites, His precious children.  He placed them above even those who had served him since before the beginning of time.  He gave Man beautiful worlds on which to live and graced them with countless blessings, and still they were never satisfied.  They were greedy, petty and spoiled.  On the other hand, they were easily manipulated.  He was planning to use them in the war that he hoped would give him the Throne of Heaven and enable him to throw God down out of Paradise.  To his frustration, however, the war was not going well.  Every time he thought that he was about to win a major victory, one of His faithful would undo all of his hard work. 

The Creator didn’t even seem to put forth a great deal of effort.  He made Lucifer’s defeats look so simple, so easy.  That such a frail and corrupt race as Man could hold in their hearts the will to cleave to their maker seemed an impossibility.  With the modern age, it was hoped that Man would lose its champions, that gone were the days of Abraham, Job and Peter.  It was not to be, however, for there always seemed to be one of them, one of the Humans, willing to take up the yoke He set before them.

With a snarl, Lucifer got up from his throne and paced the dark room, anger evident.  His last full attempt had been a short, angry little German by the name of Hitler.  With that one, he had even gone after His Chosen, the Hebrews.  Millions of them had been shot, hung or even cooked to death.  But that plan, too, had failed.  The rest of Man had banded together to strike Hitler’s forces down. For a brief time, the waves of anguish and lament had been like sweet wine, but in the end, Man had triumphed again.  God had triumphed again.  It was ever infuriating. 

He had tried striking Him down from countless angles.  Man was present on numerous worlds in numerous galaxies.  He had tried many of them, but he had found that Terra was particularly vulnerable, the men there more easily corrupted.  It was such a trouble spot that He had even sent His Own Son to them to set them back upon the correct path.  It was a major weak spot, but even so it held firm.  No matter what tactic he had used, He always had someone amongst these pathetic creatures who would rise to the call.

How as He doing it?

With another snarl, the Dark Lord turned and went back to his throne.  He snatched up the glorious cloak resting there and draped it over his shoulders.  With purposeful strides he marched towards the door to his throne room, but as he approached the archway he twisted it with his thoughts so that it did not take him to the corridor outside.  Instead, he walked through it and entered a room without endings or walls, filled with miniature models of galaxies and stars.  This was His workshop, a place not technically within Heaven and where he came when he wished to speak to the Creator.

“You are troubled, Morning Star.”  God’s voice had the ability to surround you and enter inside you at the same time.  It grated on Lord Satan’s nerves and he gritted his teeth.  “Are your schemes against me not going well?”

God moved amongst the models.  He was of a beauty far grander than even Lucifer’s, so grand that even the Host had difficulty looking upon him.  It was a terrible beauty that would strike men dead should they look upon the face of God.  The Dark Lord lowered his gaze least he become enraptured by Him. 

“You know well how my plots fair.”

“So I do.”  He stopped and adjusted a star that hovered over a random galaxy, thereby setting in motion changes upon a planet within that galaxy that would result in a new ecosystem, capable of supporting carbon based life.  “You have been stewing over your failures, Fallen One.”

Lucifer said nothing.  He glared at the moving models of stars and planets from underneath a lock of honey gold hair.  Then, abruptly, “Why do you bother with them?  They are nothing compared to the likes of us, and yet you bestow so much upon them.”

“Nothing?”  The Creator stopped, pondering a vibrant, green world that was so tiny that only the eyes of a higher being could have picked it out.  “They are not nothing.  You are blind if you cannot see their allure.  I made them in My image, a moment of vanity, but they have proven time and time again that they are worthy.”

“But what makes them worthy?”  Lucifer waved his arms wide to indicate the room and its many models.  “You give them free will, you give them souls, and you give them worlds filled with all they will ever need to survive.  You pamper them and they always turn on You.”

The constant serenity of God irritated him.  Even now, throwing the truth into His face, The Creator did not raise his voice.  “Not always.  Did we not both see that when you challenged me to take away all the blessings I had bestowed upon Job?  I tore down the life of one of My most faithful, and still he praised Me.  They know who I am.  They know Their God.”

“Well you don’t have to sound so smug about it.”  The Prince of Lies flinched, aware that he sounded like a petulant child.  He turned his glare back to the planets.  “How do you do it?  How do you keep thwarting me at every turn?”

“Because I am God.  I know all, long before it happens.”

“Yes, yes.  Creator of all.  Father of all life.  The greatest power in the universe, I’ve heard it all before.  But don’t you ever long for a challenge?  Don’t you ever wish that you could be surprised, just one time during your existence?”

“I cannot be surprised.”  He changed the tilt of a nebula. 

“Of course not.”  Glittering black eyes flicked unseeingly from galaxy to galaxy when a thought struck him.  “What about that which has already happened?  Who are we to be constrained by such trivial things as time?”

“We are not held by such constraints.  One day for you and I is like an eternity to mortals.”

“Exactly.”  This just might work.  “I believe that I could come out the victor if I altered something that already happened.”

“You are wrong.  I would still win.”  Again with that blasted serenity.

“Let us see then, shall we?  I will change an event that happened in the past and we shall see how it alters the outcome.”

The Creator was silent for a moment, as if pondering this.  Dare Lucifer hope that He was actually concerned it just might work?  Then, finally, “Very well, You may change a moment in history.  Which moment will you alter?”

The possibilities seemed endless.  Eagerly, the Prince of Darkness looked to the galaxy where Terra lay nestled amongst the stars.  So many possibilities.  This was the first world, the first place where He had created man, although He had reached back further into the past a time or two to add some of the annoying race on other worlds as well.  He could reach back to the day during the Week of Creation and stop the creation of Man, but that would only delay Him for another day before He made them anyway.  Perhaps he could stop Noah from completing His ark, or stop the heart of Mary when she was but a babe in her cradle, but these, too, would only delay Him.

Perhaps he was putting too much emphasis on Earth.  There were so many other galaxies to choose from.  He let his memory wander of the numerous attempts to gain a foothold in this war between himself and Creation.  There had been so many promising mortals, so many who had been willing to wallow in evil and sin for nothing more than a little power during their lifetimes.  He would need to choose one who had the potential to eventually reach outside of his or her own galaxy.

A name brushed across his memory.  Palpatine.  He recalled the withered monster quite well, and even with a little fondness.  Now there had been a tyrant!  Such promise, such willingness to crush the weak and the righteous beneath his heel.  In that galaxy, He was call The Force and he had been known as the Dark Side of that same power.  Lucifer had granted the so-called emperor many boons and much power; enough that he even managed to corrupt a few of His loyal servants.  It had looked as though Satan would win that particular campaign until He had interfered in the guise of a mere boy who just happened to be the son of Palpatine’s most trusted servant.  He could alter the birth of that boy, snuff out the male child and let only the girl survive.  He could even change it so that the mother never escaped her husband and both children, for they were twins, were raised under the watchful eye of Palpatine and their father.  But no, He would only choose another champion.

He pondered on the history of the galaxy.  The girl had fallen in love early on, with someone wholly unsuited for her.  The boy had pined for her, not knowing she was his sister until towards the end, so he had been focused upon his goal.  He had been willing to go to any lengths to please the girl.  Romance, however, was a tricky thing.  Lucifer could easily manipulate using greed and avarice, but love was harder.  Human hearts were so very fickle.  But perhaps he wouldn’t have to make the boy fall in love with anyone.  He didn’t even have to bring love into the equation.  He just needed to tamper with the so-called Rebellion a bit.  Shake them up by adding or subtracting from the whole.

Adding, that was the key.  By removing someone or something, he only delayed matters.  He would simply choose another vessel.  But if a person or thing was added, then everything would shift and change around it to accommodate.  But what to add?

Lucifer found his gaze wandering back towards Terra, and a thought formed.  “What about a little mix and match?”

“You have decided then?”  God stopped fiddling with a star and turned to face his challenger.

“Yes, I have.”  Now he dared to look Him in the face, forcing himself to stay focused so that he did not become ensnared by His beauty.  “I have chosen my moment in history, but I will need something from the present.”

The Creator tilted his head to one side, and then nodded.  “Very well.  What do you need?”

Lucifer stopped by the galaxy that held Terra.  Such a wonderfully simple collection of humans could be found on Terra.  They fought amongst themselves for the silliest of reasons and went from total devotion to complete hatred in the blink of an eye.  So easily manipulated and toyed with.  He couldn’t use someone who was dedicated to himself, for that person would be too easily detected.  Someone loyal to Him would be all too willing to join the Rebels in their fight.  He needed someone neutral, someone who had no loyalties one way or another.  A soul that was lost because he or she believed in nothing.  Satan’s eyes focused through the many stars, turning their attention towards Terra, and searched.  The Americas would be the best place to look, its people having grown jaded and lazy.  On the off chance that the boy could be tricked into falling in love and therefore distracted from his purpose, he would need a woman, someone his age or younger and with comely features.  She would need to be intelligent as well, or the boy would become bored with her too easily.  He concentrated on the more than six billion lives there and found his quarry.

“I shall remove one person from Terra, someone not overly important.”

“All of My children are important.”  There was no anger, just a simple statement of fact.

“Of course, I know they are important to You.  Still, I’m not going to take one of Your saints or prophets.”  He held his hand out over the galaxy and a tiny ray of light shot to his hand.  He closed his fingers over it.  “Aria St. Claire.  An unassuming girl, barely out of her first year of college.  A whiz with computers, more than average musical ability, not unattractive.  Raised in a family where she went to church every Sunday, but like so many ‘intellectuals’ of her generation, she doesn’t really believe that You or I exist.”

“I know who Aria St. Claire is.”

“Of course you do.  You know everything.”  It was said a bit mockingly as the Dark Lord sauntered back over to the galaxy he had chosen.  This was one of the ones that He had turned back in time to seed with Man.  Now Lucifer turned back the clock until he found the time he wanted.  The boy He had used as his champion had just destroyed the first Death Star and the Rebels were looking for a new base of operations.  “I will add her here and we shall see what will become of it all.”  He dropped the Terran girl carefully onto the place where the Rebel fleet was positioned, a tiny beam of light streaking towards a point in space that only higher beings could see.  A wooden shoe for the cogs.  A monkey wrench for the machine. 

This was going to be interesting.

~***~

Most of the fighters were in good working order.  Wedge glanced over the duty roster again, noting that Red and Gold squadrons were about to come in from patrol.  The fighters scouted a bit ahead and to the sides of the fleet, making sure that they didn’t run into any surprises.  Once they reached the rendezvous point, they would wait for the Princess, Solo and Skywalker to get back from the scouting mission, hopefully with a suitable location for a new base. He hadn’t wanted Skywalker to go.  He would have rather kept the boy here, put him through some drills and start teaching him military protocol.  Whether the boy wanted it or not, he was going to find himself in a command position.  After firing the shot that blew up the Death Star, he was more than just a pilot, he had become a symbol.  That farm boy was going to do more for morale of his pilots than a dozen victories. 

He was just about to order Green and Blue squadrons to suit up and get to their fighters when he detected the scent.  It smelled like the air during a lightening storm, but that wasn’t possible in the depths of space.  Frowning, he looked around and then heard a sizzling, crackling sound.  Techs were starting to point towards him, and he realized they were pointing behind him.  Wedge turned around and saw what looked like the air itself starting to break and burn, tiny bolts of lightning danced in the space of a corridor, flashes of light that grew more and more numerous.  As though from a great distance, he heard what sounded like some kind of engine, and then everything exploded into a brilliant light.

Wedge threw himself to the side, out of the way of the explosion.  He felt a rush of air as something large flew by him.  The entire bay seemed to shudder as something impacted hard off to his right.  Shouts of confusion and fear were all around him and someone came to his side, inquiring if he was all right.  Wedge looked up, did a quick, personal inventory and nodded before getting to his feet.  He turned, pulling his blaster pistol from its holster, and looked at what was once an orderly stack of supply crates.

Something large and red was now buried amongst the crates.  It had lights that looked more like great, red eyes and was emitting a foul smelling gas from a small pipe.  He could tell that the body was metal and it looked vaguely like the tail end of a speeder, only it didn’t appear to be fitted with repulsors.  Instead, primitive wheels could be seen.  Around him troops were aiming their blasters at the thing, prepared for an attack.  Wedge signaled them to back up, and then motioned for two of them to move with him.

They approached it cautiously, not sure if it might be rigged to explode or if Imperial assassins might not leap from it.  Wedge nodded towards one of the men.  “Pull those crates aside, let’s get it uncovered.”  A few people moved forward and began to clear away the supply crates.  Now they could see more of the strange machine.  It had a closed top with glass windows and was built so that it would cut down on wind resistance.  It certainly wasn’t a space worthy vessel. As the crates were pulled away, Wedge could see that there was someone in the front compartment of it, someone who wasn’t moving.

He moved up closer and spoke firmly. “Get out of the speeder with your hands up.”  There was no response.  Dark hair was obscuring the glass.  He tried it again, repeating himself, and again there was no response.  With a nod of his head, he indicated or the two men close to him to keep their blasters ready then holstered his own.  He studied the panel and noted that it seemed to have a primitive sort of handle mechanism.  Cautiously, he reached out for it, slipping his fingers underneath, and pulled. 

The panel swung open and the person inside leaned out.  They didn’t fall, apparently held in by some kind of strap.  A slender arm fell out, pale skin with a metal bracelet at the wrist.  Wedge reached out carefully and felt for a pulse.  He found it, steady and rhythmic.  Moving slowly, he knelt down and pushed the thick hair aside while straitening the person back up.  The stranger was a woman, no more than 18 or 19 from the look of her, with a small cut by her temple where she hit her head against the inside of the vehicle.  “Ma’am?”  He shook her shoulder gently and watched as her face scrunched in an indication of pain accompanied by a barely audible moan.  

“Alert the medical bay; tell them we’re bringing someone in.”  Wedge reached down and pulled a utility knife from his boot.  Quickly, he severed the strap and freed her, catching her as she murmured a protest of pain again.  “Get me a lift to move her with.  You three, keep your blasters trained on her, but don’t fire unless she proves a threat.”  The three soldiers to his side nodded in understanding.  The lift was brought over and the stranger was lifted onto it.  Wedge and the three temporary guards moved with it as they had a droid direct it towards med bay.  Let the droids patch her up first, and then they would find out just who she was and just where she had come from.