Title: Galactic Retirement Home Summary: The SW glue-factory. She had just finished popping her false teeth into her mouth. She used to have such a nice mouth and face, but the ravages of time had caused her gums to recede and her own teeth to fall out. Sometimes she wishes Han Solo and Kyp Durron had never come into her presence. Stress caused by the two of them, the Jedi and those insufferable warlords had clearly done this to her. If only her Wilhuff were alive, he would have protected her and her figure. She looked over at her room-mate and kept wondering how this woman was still alive; then she thought that this morally wretched Hapan had some miraculous beauty secret. she must have it too. The East Wing of the retirement home housed the trouble-makers and those who couldn't get along well with others. "If you try to tell me about another artistic movement on Corellia, Dantooine or anywhere else, I'm going to have to hurt you." Thrawn frowned. "So I'm suppose to sit here in silence, then? Perhaps you would like me to walk you through the idiocy that got us all here in the first place." "Don't you dare! I love how they call this place a retirement home when its really a prison!" "I have some pull with the head of this facility if you would like to be transferred," the Chiss offered softly. "And to think I actually requested for you to be my roomie," Kyp Durron sneered. "Don't you have some model of a Star Destroyer or something to paint? Shoo. Go back to your side." "You know they have you on those anti-psychotics for a very good reason, don't you?" "Thrawn. Shut. Up." "But Dad! I no do those!" "Right after you came about, you damn stupid freak, I should have realized I was going to lose." Yellow eyes bore into Triculous. "You waste of genetic material." "But Daddy!" "Go into time out. Now!" Darth Sidious sighed and wanted to pound his head against the nearest wall. He hated his retarded son. In the common area, a twenty-two-year-old Ben Skywalker handed his father a present. "Something I'm sure you'll enjoy." Luke opened the small box and his eyes brightened. He emptied out the small item into his open hand and looked at it. "Is this what I think it is?" "Yes. Your grandson's first lost tooth, Dad, or should I say Grandpa?" "What do you mean I can't see him?" "Rules are rules; I don't make 'em, so complainin' to me won't do any good," replied the nurse. She frowned a bit, though, she always had liked this petite woman. "Visiting hours for the East Wing don't begin for another hour. You can visit your husband then." "Any luck, Mom," her fourteen-year-old son asked. "We have another hour to wait, Zeth," replied Jaina Solo-Durron to her dark-haired son. "And keep your temper in check. I will not have a repeat of what happened when we went to the circus last week." "I'm too old to go to the circus, Mom!" "You know that isn't what I mean," Jaina admonished him. "You single-handedly wrecked their entire performance and last I heard that particular circus company had to file for bankruptcy due to all the lawsuits." "Well, maybe next time Uncle Jacen can actually take us somewhere I'd like to go to. I don't care about his little brat or for Aunt Tenel." He snickered. "Two nights ago I had a rather nice dream about that cursed little Hapan princess." "How did you kill her this time?" "Force lightning right into her head. I'm sure Dad would approve." Jaina frowned. How she hoped that Kyp would be properly medicated when they visit him within the hour.