Beyond - Legends Sithspit! - A series of humorous quickies (Updated March 13 - Kell Tainer; Demolition Boy, Sir!)

Disclaimer:
Star Wars is George Lucas's sandbox so he's the Mighty Poobah. Some characters belong to Aaron Allston or Michael Stackpole, though. I don't even make a single credit out of them.


Sithspit! - Part I

Morning. Daylight. Head hurts. Mouth like Sarlacc pit. Stomach not well.
I don't dare to open my eyes. It's way too early to even think about it. I grab the pillow and put it over my head. Time for another shut-eye ?


Two hours later ?

I can't say I feel any better. My innards still feel like a Rancor's been playing with them. The Ewoks in my head are still partying, their big drums still rumbling in the foggy night between my ears. My thoughts are beginning to drift to the small box with headache pills in my fresher, but I'd have to get up to get them. Rise? Rise now? Not a snowball's chance on N'klon. I'd rather do the Death Star trench run in a DIE Wing right now than getting up. Err ? wait. I'd have to get up to do that so strike that thought.
What the hell have I been doing last night? It's all a maze, a thick fog which covers my memory and leaves only tiny pieces, single pictures open to my mind's eye. Oh right ? yesterday was the Pilot's Party celebrating the end of ? The end of what? What were we celebrating? Sithspawn, I can't remember. I swear I won't touch a drop of alcohol when I survive this headache.

Peace! Now I know what we've been celebrating. The end of the war against the Empire, us surviving against all odds ? and something else. There was another reason for celebrating. I know ? I can remember the toasts to Luke. Oh right ? his engagement! He's going to marry ? I know he mentioned the name. Now if I could remember ? Red hair, green eyes, fiery temper ? Mara Jade!
Phew! Good catch, Luke. She's quite a looker, but I'd rather wrestle with a whole bunch of Corellian Sandpanthers than deal with her temper. She's more volatile than a volcano just before the explosion. This should prove to be an interesting marriage ?

As for the rest of the night ? Nothing. I've drawn a complete blank here. I remember trying to flirt with a few women, but ? Women. I can feel some warm body pressed into my side. Obviously the evening ended quite nicely for me. Now the question is who she is and what does she look like. Is she going to be blonde, brunette, raven haired? Maybe another readhead? But hopefully not as fiery as Jade?

Suddenly she stirs. "Oohh ? My head," she moans quietly.

Odd. That voice sounds familiar. I open my eyes and twist my head. And suddenly, unexpectedly I find myself staring into troubled brown orbs ? Oh no!

"Forge?"

"Janson?"

And then ? in unison: "Sithspit!"


Ooops!

 

Yeah, "Sithspit!" alright ...

I really really need a Wes/Inyri icon or something - I just love those two together.

Great description of the morning-after-the-party feeling, and I hope you will continue this - in general, and especially this scene!

If you do update PMs, I would like to get one, please!

Ys, Fia

 

Oh the repressed attraction! Priceless!

 

Fiana_Novarr - I have to disappoint you somewhat. Those little scenes have no connection beyond them being manifestations of the evil part of me .

TheCrazyRodian -

And without further delay part II ...


Sithspit! - Part II

The dark clouds hovering over the outskirts of Coronet City were a mirror for her own mood. She barely managed to keep herself from smashing the door upon entering her appartment. Inside she wanted to yell, to scream, to smash something and to kill somebody - preferably one of these morons form Corellian Customs.
Twice! Twice they had gone through her ship, scanning all panels, putting their noses into her papers and cargo manifests and even going through her private belongings in her Captain's cabin! Argh!

She flicked on the lights in the main corridor, flung her jacket across a chair in the corner and stormed into the main living room. It was late, midnight had already gone by hours ago, but she didn't feel like going to bed. No, her destination was a different piece of her furniture - a punching bag hanging in the south-western corner of her living room. She needed to vent some anger and steam or she'd do something to her belongings she'd regret later. How could these Kowakian monkey-lizards in their ridiculous uniforms dare to put their noses into her most private belongings?
Just behind the threshold to the living room she stopped and smacked the light switch with her right hand. The room remained dark. "Oh great," she grumbled and moved deeper into the room, rounding the sofa and approached her holovid screen.

She'd barely grabbed the remote control when she felt someone step right behind her. It wasn't Kolot - the person was taller than her and definitely humanoid. An icy fist clamped itself around her heart. She'd been found. In spite of her care Imperial or New Republic Intel had found her.
But how? She'd been so careful when slicing her new persona into Corellia's databases. She'd made sure that her Shuttle's signature and ID had been changed completely. She knew she hadn't made a mistake ... Wrong - she had made a mistake. She'd sent a message to Myn. Either it had been intercepted or ... or Donos had given it to his superiors. After all he had more reasons to hate her than anyone else. A sudden sadness conquered her senses - Myn still hated her, hated her enough to sentence her to death.

When she felt two strong arms surround her petite frame from behind her survival instincts kicked in. Her right elbow buried itself into the abdomen of her attacker and she was rewarded with a satisfying 'Ooof!'. Kirney grabbed the man's left arm, hunched her back and threw him over her shoulder. The man landed headfirst on her couch, legs dangling over the back of the piece of furniture. She knew the impact wouldn't put him out of action so she simply grabbed the nearest object within her reach, rounded the low table and smashed the thin-skinned porcelain vase across the back of her attacker's head. The man - who had managed to rise to his knees again - slumped forward onto the couch and went still.

Kirney turned around and switched on the holvid screen for a little more light in the room. She turned and found her attacker sitting on his butt, his hands covering the back of his head. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The man turned his head and Kirney felt her eyes pop out of her skull. "Nice way to greet a guy," he mumbled rising shakily to his feet.

Kirney's voice was anything but steady. "Myn?" Just then she realized she'd wrecked one of her vases - on his head. "Sithspit!"


Ooops!

 

Oh Lara/Kirney/Gara/do-we-even-know?... if you really want him, breaking a vase over his head might not be the best way to tell him so.

Another great one, Thor!

 

-t-:

Very nicely handled, both those vignettes... subtle (sleepy! ) characters, but all clearly, honestly themselves...

Good job!

Is there more?

- The Imperial Ewok

 

Poor Myn-baby. Poor, poor baby. How mean.

Aber richtig toll geschrieben! Is it weird that I can say that better in English than in my native language?

Great update, I'm waiting for more, and I'll reading your other stuff until you post again.

Yeah for pilot!fics! *needs "jumging around like a kid" smilie again*

Grüßla,

Fia

 

Mea culpa for not getting back to all of you, but I've been a way for a day or two. To placate any potential anger directed at my person here's the next part (Yes - you can count that as a bribe ).


Sithspit! - Gavin Darklighter

"And you're sure you can handle this?"

Gavin rolled his eyes at his wife and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I've had to deal with Iceheart, Zsinj, Thrawn, Krennel, pirates and whatever megalomaniacs the galaxy could throw at me. I think I can handle my own sons."

Sera giggled lightly. "Ah, but this is Kan and Ande we're talking about - not your ordinary Imp or Warlord."

"True, but I've also survived years with Wes Janson in the Squadron." He twisted his head and looked at his boys who were captivated by the new holovidgame he'd bought them yesterday. "See? They're busy playing."

Sera arched an eyebrow. "You're spoiling them, you know?"

"Nope. That's Battle Strategy for you." Gavin grinned.

His wife blinked. "Battle Strategy?"

"The two eternal rules of dealing with Wes Janson. Rule 1: If Wes is busy he can't plot pranks. Rule 2: If Wes is busy but still can plot pranks he's not busy enough."

Sera laughed and pulled him down for a kiss. "I'll be back around six. Remember to keep them out of the kitchen."

Gavin winced. "Yeah, yeah. I still don't know why I had to clean up their mess, though."

"That's Battle Strategy for you," Sera mocked. "I figured it would be easier to teach you to keep them out of the kitchen than teaching them to keep out themselves." She bent down and picked up her bag. "See you tonight."

Gavin blew her a kiss and watched the door close behind her. He sighed and threw a quick glance in the direction of his sons. They were obviously totally oblivious to the world around them, captivated by the new holovidgame. He sighed again and shuffled to the eating table in the corner of the living room. Time for a bit of paperwork.


Two hours later ...

"I'm hungry," Ande told his brother and put down the gamepad.

"Me, too," Kan agreed and twisted his neck to look at his father who was still sitting at the eating table with his usual 'paperwork frown' creasing his forehead. "Dad looks busy."

"Then we shouldn't disturb him." A smile lit Ande's features. "Let's make pancakes!"

Kan grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Then both boys crept towards the kitchen door keeping the couch and other pieces of furniture between them and their father.

CLANG!

Gavin jerked up from his report at the sudden noise coming from the kitchen. He glanced quickly at the spot where his sons had been sitting some time ago. Now it was deserted. A feeling of dread filled his innards as he made his way to the kitchen door quickly. "I have a bad feeling ..."

He didn't finish the sentence but buried his face in his hands as he caught sight of the chaos in his kitchen. Flour was basically everywhere, an overturned bottle sent drops of milk down to the floor where a puddle of nerf milk had formed already, jam and honey were smeared across the surface of the worktop and around the mouths of both boys ... Gavin concluded a battlefield was tidier than his kitchen at the moment.

"Uh-oh!" Kan blanched as he caught sight of their father. "Err ... Dad ..."

Gavin put his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here?"

"Making pancakes," Ande announced proudly and put one of the somewhat misshapen things on a plate. "Want one?"

He had to fight the smile forming on his lips and forced a stern expression on his face. "When your mother sees the chaos here you're going to be in big trouble."

Both boys exchanged an alarmed glance. They hadn't thought about this.

"When is Mom coming home?" Kan asked worriedly and glanced at the chrono on the wall.

"Right about ...," Gavin began and looked at the chrono himself. His eyes went wide as the device was showing the numbers '17:56'. Oh no!

Just then he heard the main door open and the call of his wife: "I'm home!"

"... now,"

 

Those are good. I like the first one he best so far, but the other two are very funny too.

jacky

 

Love it! Just what I needed this morning!

 

*punt*

 

*puts out new bait*
I know there are readers. I've seen footprints


Sithspit! - Airen Cracken

Now you've gone and done it, Cracken, the tiny voice inside his head accused.

He's my son, he thought vehemently. As his father I have the right to know who he's dating.

The voice - which sounded remarkably like his wife - wasn't to be silenced. And that does include putting a tracker in his clothes and bugs in his apartment?

"Well, I can't have an agent stalking them, can I?" Cracken shook his head and picked up the datapad from the desk. He'd had work to do and he couldn't afford to waste time dwelling on necessities, however unfortunate and unsettling they might be. "I'm talking to myself," he sighed. "Must be me getting old."

"I'd rather say it's called 'conscience'," someone retorted from the door.

Cracken jerked his head up and saw Face Loran leaning against the doorpost. "Ever heard about knocking?"

"I did. You were obviously distracted, Sir."

Cracken frowned. "You're skirting the edges of insubordination, Captain Loran. You better explain yourself."

Face stepped closer, snapped to attention and placed a tiny duraplast box on the General's table. "I've been asked to deliver this to you, Sir!"

Cracken glared darkly at Face, but chose to remain silent. He picked up the box and lifted the cover. A flimsi greeted him and he winced as he recognized the distinctive scribble of his son.

You and I are going to have a chat over lunch tomorrow. In your office. You pay. Pash

Cracken frowned, lifted the flimsi and paled. Below the flimsi the remnants of his bugs and trackers filled the bottom of the box. "Sithspit!"


Ooops!

 

That might be my favorite one of all!

 

First to say sorry for disappearing, but I had no chance to access the boards at all for a few days. They just refused to load
But as it looks it didn't matter. I had thought there were more people reading this. There were too many traces for just one reader


Sithspit! - Kell Tainer

A Sullustan war reporter of the Clone Wars had once said: "Vengeance is the best and most effective spice of them all. It can turn a military ration bar into the Galaxy's finest and most cherished delicacy and ordinary water into the sweetest sunfruit juice."

Kell agreed wholeheartedly.

He was sitting at his worktable in the appartment he and Tyria had been given after their wedding, soldering metal parts and electronical components into place, connecting electric circuits and cables into an intricate pattern.

He allowed himself a malicious smile. His victim would never see it coming. Finally this war would come to an end making him the undisputed king of practical pranks of the New Republic's armed forces.

"What is that?"

He looked up to see his wife standing in the door. Her expression was a mix of dubious interest, exasperation and resignation.

"That, my dear wife, is the patented 'Kell Tainer Ketchup Bomb'. Maximum blast range is five meters, but within that range everything and everyone will get a full ketchup shower."

Tyria sighed and glanced at the ceiling. "Force grant me strength. Don't tell me you're still having that childish prank feud with Janson."

Kell shot up, dropping his tools in indignation. "This feud isn't childish ..." Too late he realized he'd dropped the strip of tin-solder right into the middle of his bomb's innards. Two circuits - which had no business being connected at this moment - were connected all of a sudden. Tainer paled instantly. "Sithspit!"

SPLATTER


Ooops!

 

Wow!


I just found these wonderful little stories. I love it! Each of them is absolutely hysterical (I especially loved Wes' and Kell's moments.) Sithspit indeed (and can I add, Yub, Yub) Great job on all of these, and I'm so glad there are more stories for some of the X-Wing characters. Gotta love the Rogues and Wraiths. I really hope you write more of these. Keep it up!

 

Oh don't worry - as long as I get ideas I'll probably shell out more of these snippets. In fact the next is ready, the one after that in the planning stage

 

*lovingly hugs the poor baby pilots*

Fun, though. This is so Kell - And oops, indeed! More soon?

Grüßla, Fia