Luke felt a cringing ringing inside his ears. It made him squint his eyes and cover his ears. His posture was strange, uncomfortable, like a man holding in the urge to relieve himself. Luke could hear the beastly sounds of battle. He could hear the clashing of weapons, the war cries and the moans of the wounded. These sounds were indistinct and far away, as if he were listening to them while hidden in a distant cave. But this was not the case. Luke was present in the battle; he was at the center of it with an axe in his left hand a machete in his right hand. Someone had handed him the weapons before they aligned themselves in position, ready to fight the enemy.
The enemy.
Luke felt a chuckle bubble in his throat. How could he consider the Captain as an enemy? Was this not the man who had
