Beyond - Legends Re-Gifting: the Antilles Girls Strike Back!--COMPLETE

Title: Re-Gifting: the Antilles Girls Strike Back
Characters: Myri and Syal Antilles, Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian, assorted Rogues, parents, Leia Organa Solo, and Ewoks
Genre: Humor
Timeframe: 31 ABY, about 2 years after the Sekot Accords

Myri & Syal Antilles decide that something must be done about Wes Janson...

Inspired by @Onderon1's Wooing of Myri Antilles and the OTP Holiday challenge #3, this bunny bit hard and came together fast.

* * *

“WES JANSON MUST DIE!”

Myri Antilles hurled the elaborate gift box across the room, watching as it crashed to the floor. “I don’t care if he DID save Dad’s life a million times! He is a dead man!” Her sister shut and sealed the door quickly.

“Ssh,” said Syal. “You don’t want anyone to hear you!”

“I don’t care! He has ruined my birthday.” She slumped on to the bed, too angry to cry. Syal sat beside her, completely understanding. Thirteen was a very big birthday. It was supposed to symbolize one’s ascendance to adulthood. And this birthday was particularly important, to her. The war against the Vong had ended just a short time ago, they were in a new home on Corellia, their parents’ homeworld, and Dad had taken a long leave, at least a month. A month with Dad at home was the best present she could have ever dreamed of. She’d heard that he was thinking of retiring, so he’d be home permanently. That would be amazing, if he decided to do it.

Her birthday party was a good reason to celebrate all of it; the end of the war, the new house, the start of a new life and, hopefully, a peaceful life. She’d gotten wonderful presents. From Uncle Tycho and Aunt Winter, there was a beautiful and expensive necklace of silver set with moongems, custom made by an Alderaanian exile designer. Aunt Mirax, her namesponsor, had given her a gift certificate to a full spa day at one of the fanciest salons in Coronet City, a perfect way to celebrate the start of womanhood. And then Wes Janson had ruined it all.

“Don’t forget my gift!” he’d said, dropping a large box in her lap. Her heart sank.

Wes Janson gave the worst birthday gifts ever. With trembling fingers, she’d unfastened the box. She could feel her sister’s eyes on her, full of horrified anticipation. She’d taken a deep breath, and slowly pulled out…the skirt.

If it had just been a skirt, it would have been fine. The cut, short and swingy, was very stylish among girls her age. But the fabric… the fabric was a flexible flatscreen, projecting an endless parade of Ewoks. They were dancing and marching all along the hem.

“Push the button in the waistline!” urged Janson. “Go on, push it!” Myri exchanged a horrified look with Syal. Touching that button was absolutely the last thing she ever wanted to do. She shot a pleading look at her mother, who was giving her The Look. There was no other option. Myri pushed the button.

The Ewoks were singing, in high pitched, squeaky voices, something that sounded like “Yubnub.” She couldn’t hit the button fast enough to shut it off. Syal’s mouth was hanging open, appalled.

“Yub, yub!” sang Janson happily. Myri looked at her parents. Their smiles were frozen in something resembling pleasure, and they were both giving her The Look. The Look which meant “pretend to be thrilled or suffer the consequences.”

Myri reached deep inside herself, dredging up whatever acting skills in her bloodline hadn’t been passed along to her father’s sister. “It’s…it’s…” Her mind raced, frantically searching for some inoffensive word. “It’s really unique.” That was the best she could come up with. She could feel the pitying looks of her family and friends, all piercing her like locator beacons. “I think I’ll try it on right now!”

Grabbing the box, she’d fled to her room. And now she was never coming out of it. Not until she found a way to destroy him.

Syal picked up the box, looked inside, and made a face. “It could be worse,” she said.

“No, it couldn’t.”

“Yes, it could. Remember…the vest?” Myri winced. Syal glanced nervously at the closet. “I have…dreams…about the vest.”

Last year, Syal’s birthday gift had been a vest, sleeveless, made out of some sort of brown furry material, and a hood with furry little round ears on it. The hood had a sort of leather cowl stitched to it, like the ones worn by Ewok warriors. For one moment, for one horrible moment, everyone believed that it was the actual skin of one of the creatures. Syal’s acting skills weren’t up to Myri’s; she’d screamed in horror and thrown it across the room. It had taken Janson nearly fifteen minutes to calm everyone down and explain that it was synthetic fur, but by then it was too late. Syal spent the rest of the day in her room, in hysterics. Myri had found the vest, and put it in a box, which she buried at the very back of her closet. Syal spent weeks having nightmares that the vest had come to life and was trying to get out of the closet to come after her.

Myri looked around the room, and frowned. She had never realized before just how much Ewok crap there was. And with only two exceptions, all of it had been a gift from Wes Janson. “What in the Seven Hells is with this creepy Ewok obsession?” she said.

“I don’t know,” said Syal. “He’s always given us Ewok stuff.”

“Well, that ends now!” Myri went into the closet digging out the box with the vest. Syal looked alarmed. Myri stuffed the skirt in there, and went around the room. Every music box, every figurine, every holonovel, windchime and plushie, the slippers, the posters, the model Ewok hut with the toy Ewok family…everything depicting the inhabitants of Endor went into the box.

The only things she left out were the two cups that had been gifts to her and Syal from the Ewoks themselves, a trip to Endor with their parents when she was very small. And the cups weren’t shaped like Ewoks. They were lightweight, carved from the husks of some type of large nut, and the Ewok artisan had somehow imprinted or dyed the images of native leaves on to the surface before polishing them to a high gloss. They were beautiful, handcrafted works of art which seemed too special to actually use. She kept spare creds in hers.

“What are you going to do?” asked Syal, pitching in to help.

“Burn it.”

Syal shook her head. “I don’t think you should be polluting the skies of our beautiful homeworld with any of this stuff.” Myri considered.

“Tie it to a beacon, borrow Dad’s X-wing and shoot a couple of torpedoes at it?”

“Too complicated." Syal’s eyes widened as the last item was crammed into the top of the box. “Wait! You’re not taking Lieutenant Kettch!”

“Oh yes. He’s done his duty to the Republic and retires with honors. NO MORE EWOKS!”

“SSSShhhhh!!!” Syal looked nervously at the door.

Myri clamped the box shut, eyed it, and then turned to the door. “This is war. By the time I’m through with him, Wes Janson is going to wish he’d never heard of Endor.”

Syal jumped to her feet. “What are you going to do?” she demanded. “You can’t just tell him off!”

“No, no,” said Myri. “This is war. To fight a war, first, you need Intel.”

“Intel?”

“And Uncle Hobbie owes me a present.”

 

I think this is what my mother is going to do to me if she ever gets fed up with me - get rid of my Teebo plush toy, Mighty Mug, Endor globe, Paploo on a speeder bike and a bunch of action figures.

And this has got to be one of the strangest things I have ever read.

And now I want a skater skirt with Ewoks on it. I'm the target market for both the skirt cut and the pattern.

Say, if this is a challenge entry, please do post in the OTP thread. I do not see an OTP here, unless it's an abstract thing involving Wes' Ewok fetish (I'd keep the female woklings away from him).

 

Can't wait to see how this turns out......

 

I would take whatever Ewok related gift Wes would give me.

 

Bwahahahaha! I approve of this fic

This promises to be absolutely hilarious -- it was actually hilarious from the very first line. I can perfectly imagine the two horrified teenagers who just. don't. get. Wes Janson's sense of humour...

Although when I got to this:

... it began to sound less like sense of humour and more like a fetish

I watched the thread and I'm waiting for more. I want to know what "intel" Uncle Hobbie will provide.

 

You can have too much of a good thing, Force Smuggler. I suspect he doesn't realize just how much Ewok stuff he's given them. The girls have reached their limit.

Ah, but the cups didn't come from Wes; they were gifts from the Ewoks. I figure the family visited on one of the anniversaries, and that is when the girls got those lovely gifts.

This is a little alarming!!!

And for Cowgirl Jedi 1701, Findswoman, Chyntuck and Mira_Jade, who are wondering what happens next...well...here it is (there's only one more after this):

* * *

Myri was proud of her acting skills as she returned to the party, with an uneasy Syal in tow.

“It’s a little small,” she said. She turned to Hobbie and gave him a hug. “Sorry, you were about to say something when I took off?” She looked at the small, flat package in his hand hopefully. Unlike his friend, Hobbie Klivian gave wonderful, thoughtful birthday presents, possibly to make up for the other disastrous ones given by Janson.

“I didn’t have a chance to give you my gift,” he explained. “I hope you like it.” Myri unfastened the package, peeked inside, and squealed with genuine delight.

“OHMYGOSHAREYOUKIDDING???!!!” She bounced up and down, and hugged him again, as tightly as she could. “OHMYGOSHTHISISAMAZING!!!!! YOUARESOAWESOME!!!!!!!!!”

“What is it?” asked Syal, craning her neck to look. Then she squealed too. “AAAACKOHMYGOSHYOU’VEGOTTOBEKIDDING!”

“I know!” Myri turned to her parents, beaming. “Tickets to the UniDirection concert! They’re playing here in Coronet in two months! And these are fourth row seats!” She turned to squeeze her other namesponsor again. “You give the best gifts ever!”

Hobbie was blushing, ignoring the look of reproach that Myri’s father was directing at him. Wedge had just figured out who would have to escort the girls to the concert. “Well, I try,” he said.

Iella Antilles, Myri’s mother cleared her throat. “Anyone hungry? The buffet’s ready.” The guests laughed and chattered as they moved towards the food. Myri exchanged a speaking look with her sister, and they hung back.

“Uncle Hobbie, can we ask you a question?” she asked sweetly. He should have been warned by her tone of voice, but the smell of barbecued smoked nerf ribs no doubt distracted him.

“Sure thing, sweetheart, what’s on your mind?”

The girls looked at each other again. “What is this creepy obsession Uncle Wes has with Ewoks?” asked Myri.

Hobbie frowned. “Obsession?”

“Every birthday, every Solstice, every single gift giving occasion, we get Ewoks. Why Ewoks?”

Hobbie squirmed. “Oh…well…” He sighed heavily. “I guess he just does it to bug your dad.”

“Why would it bug Dad?” asked Syal. “He doesn’t have anything against them, as far as I know.”

“No, no…” Hobbie took a deep breath. “It’s…okay. Originally, I think it was because Wes was jealous. And now he just gets carried away.” The girls exchanged glances.

“Why would he be jealous of Dad?”

Hobbie cast a longing look towards the buffet, and looked back at the girls. They were both giving him a particular, expectant Look, which he was used to seeing from his former squadron leader, but which was rather eerie on the faces of two pretty teenagers. He sighed.

“Okay,” he said, “most of this is second hand, but…Wes missed the celebration after the Battle of Endor.”

“HE missed the celebration? I thought YOU were the one in the bacta tank!” said Syal.

“I was! Like I said, this is second-hand…” Hobbie leaned back. “So, Endor, after the battle…they say it was beautiful, the way the bonfires were shining through the trees…but you’ve seen what it looks like.”

Syal nodded but Myri shook her head. “I don’t remember, really,” she said. Hobbie considered.

“I guess you wouldn’t. It looked beautiful, they say. Magical. And the Ewoks…well, they were handing around some sort of hooch they’d brewed up. I don’t know what it was; something made from plant sap or something? Anyway…your Dad took one sip, because he’s, you know, careful. He said his whole mouth went numb, so he spit it out discreetly and switched to Whyren’s. He had a flask tucked in his pocket, from a bottle he’d been saving for the end of the war. But Wes…well, you know what he’s like. He’s NOT careful.” The girls nodded. Hobbie shook his head.

“Wes passed out cold and he was out for over a week. Someone got some incriminating holos of him tucked up in bed with a bunch of Ewoks…” The girls were shocked.

“He didn’t!” said Myri.

“No, he didn’t,” said Hobbie. “Like I said, out cold. I’m telling you, they could market that stuff as a surgical anesthetic! The Ewok healer was worried about him, and didn’t want him getting hypothermia as night wore on, so she brought him back to her own hut, and tucked him up in the sleep furs. Some of the others who had a bit too much were put in next to him, so she could keep an eye on all of them…Anyway…” Hobbie looked towards the dining area. “He had to put up with a lot of ribbing, and of course your Dad was getting a lot of the attention, because he was the one who fired off the torpedo, so…He likes to tease Wedge with the Ewok thing.”

“Really,” said Myri. Syal could see the wheels turning in her sister’s head. “He’s upset with Dad because he missed a party?”

“Uh, well…” Hobbie shot another look towards the dining room. “There was also the propaganda thing.”

“What propaganda thing?” asked Syal. This was new to her.

“With the Death Star and the Emperor gone, the Alliance wanted to drum up support, establish the credibility of the New Republic, you know, so they decided to send the Hero of Endor around on a propaganda tour.”

“The Hero of Endor?” asked Myri, raising an eyebrow. It sounded so corny.

“Don’t call him that. He hates it. Luke Skywalker might’ve been a better choice, but he disappeared, doing something related to the Jedi or something. And your Dad had been at the end of two Death Stars, so…they put a dress uniform on him and sent him on a tour to raise money and support for the reestablishment of the Republic. Tycho couldn’t go along, because someone needed to run the squadron. I was still in a bacta tank, and Wes…”

“Floor of an Ewok hut.”

“Got it in one.” Hobbie squirmed, and edged towards the sounds of chattering diners and the smell of barbecued nerf. “It was the usual, kissing babies, buttering up politicians, making speeches…nothing that exciting. Better him than us, frankly. Not my idea of a reward. Except for Miss Nebula.”

“Who was Miss Nebula?” asked Syal.

“Does Mom know about her?” added Myri.

“Oh, it was a beauty pageant. Your Dad was tagged to crown the winner. 2,300 beauty queens in skimpy swimsuits from all over the galaxy, competing for the Galactic title. I don’t think Wes quite got over missing that.”

“So we are surrounded by Ewoks because Uncle Wes is jealous that Dad got to put a fake crown on a half-naked stranger?” asked Myri. Hobbie looked nervous.

“Well I’m not sure I’d say—“

“Isn’t that a bit juvenile?” asked Syal.

“Um, well we are talking about—“

“I mean, if the Ewok people, who knew nothing about the Rebellion, hadn’t joined forces with General Solo and the Pathfinders to take down the energy shield, that Death Star would probably still be operational, the Emperor would still be on the throne, and we wouldn’t be here. Isn’t it disrespectful to make them into some sort of joke?”

Hobbie turned red. “Well, now, hang on,” he said. “It’s not the way it—“

“Uncle Hobbie’s right,” said Myri. “It’s just innocent fun, a way to blow off steam, right?” She flashed a dazzling smile up at her namesponsor, and looped her elbow through his, leading him into the dining room. “So what other stories do you have about Uncle Wes?”

“None that I’m drunk enough to tell you two!”

“Okay, what other stories do you have about Dad?”

That night, as they got ready for bed, Syal looked over at her younger sister. “The day didn’t end so bad, right?”

“Mmmhmm,” said Myri, grinning. “And I have all the ammunition I need.”

“What now?”

“Wait for the right time, and call in a favor.”

 

I don't think he's being malicious to the girls; I think he's just thoughtless. He's figuring the Ewok stuff will rib Wedge but the girls are young and Ewoks are cute so they'd enjoy it. He's lost track of how much stuff there is and the fact that the girls are getting older. I see Hobbie as being a bit more observant.

But yeah, Myri has something in mind...

 

I can perfectly imagine that post-Endor party situation, plus the Miss Nebula thing...

But I also wonder if someone isn't getting it wrong here. Wedge didn't seem particularly upset about the Ewok gift, but he clearly didn't like the concert tickets so much. Father and daughter appear to have a different idea of what makes a gift cool.

And now to see what Myri is up to. As a daughter of Rogue Squadron, it's bound to be full of mischief!

 

THAT TINY WEE FONT HURTS MY EYES I NEED TO CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK WITH NO PUNCTUATION PLEASE DO NOT DO IT EVER AGAIN OR I CRY CAPS LOCK TEARS RAKGHOULS WILL COME FOR YOU OKAY OKAY

Ahem...

That story, I can totally see how the holos can be misinterpreted. But just like Findswoman - I don't think that the girls should have ever been a part of this, so...roll on, revenge of whatever kind.

On the other hand...looks like the boyband (LOL, "UniDirection") isn't well-received by Wedge?!

Hmmm.

And the tacky gifts, send them to me. 10/10 would use.

 

Well, I can't think of many parents who would be enthusiastic at the idea of spending a night at a pop boy-band concert surrounded by shrieking teenage fangirls... None that I'm acquainted with, anyway.

Sorry, Ewok Poet; the formatting has been really funky for me. I'll try a different font for this last post, maybe that will help? It looks okay on my computer, so I can't see it, myself, but I'll try larger.

Yes, you would probably love the Ewok collection. Different strokes for different folks!

Yes. Yes it is. Really, being a dad is probably a cinch for our favorite Corellian...after all those years dealing with Wes!


So, the bad news is, this is the last post. We are finito! And the girls call in little help...

* * *

Three weeks later…


“I cannot believe they made you a General.” Hobbie Klivian shook his head as four aging pilots walked down the corridor towards the banquet room.

“Ah, but notice they waited until after he announced his retirement?” said Tycho Celchu. “They’re not completely mad.”

Wedge Antilles chuckled. “So what are you going to do with yourself, now that you’re retiring?” he asked, having been pondering that same question himself. “Are you going to rebuild the bar?”

Wes Janson, newly appointed General of the Starfighter Reserves, shook his head. “No, no. I think I need to expand my horizons. I’m going to open a nightclub.”

“A nightclub?” Tycho was intrigued.

“Yup. Let’s face it, the bar never attracted the right sort of people.”

Wedge frowned. “What do you mean, ‘the right sort of people’?” he demanded.

“Pretty young things in skimpy clothing who fawn over him,” translated Hobbie.

“Ah. Of course.”

“I’m thinking of calling it ‘Aces High,’ and being a General will be a bonus, a good way to attract customers.” Janson’s three friends seemed dubious, but they’d arrived at the door of the banquet room where Janson’s retirement party was about to start. Wes hesitated.

“Should I let you all go in first, so you can jump out and yell surprise?” he asked.

“Why?” asked Hobbie. “It’s not a surprise party.” They pushed him through the door.

Wes spread his arms, beaming. “Here I am!” he said. “Let the par—“ He froze. The others peered around his shoulder, staring in disbelief. There were the Rogues there, past and present, a few members of Wraith Squadron, his Tierfon Yellow Aces, friends, and family members, standing in small clusters around the room.

And Ewoks. Lots of Ewoks.

A large banner draped along one wall declared it to be “WES JANSON’S HOME FOR LOST EWOKS.” There were toy Ewoks of plush, and carved out of wood or molded from duraplast. There were posters and music boxes and windchimes. There was a tiny Ewok village with miniature Ewoks going about their daily routine, and a colorful holovid of some show for children, playing near the center. Lieutenant Kettch was propped up on a chair, with several battle tabs and decorations pinned to his plush fur. There was a massive cake, decorated with leaves of frosting, and small Ewok heads of sticky gumpaste peering out from behind them.

To one side was a not-quite-life-size mannequin of Wes, wearing slippers shaped like Ewok feet, a flat panel skirt with a parade of Ewoks marching around the hem, singing in squeaky voices, and a truly hideous hooded vest of fake fur with small round ears stitched to the hood.

Wedge Antilles glared at his daughters, who returned twin looks of wide-eyed innocence that they’d perfected when they were three. Wes looked at them, too, stunned. Myri smiled sweetly. Before anyone could say anything, there was a small flurry of motion at the door. Leia Organa Solo entered the room.

“I can’t stay, Wes,” she said, “or should I say General Janson? But I wanted to congratulate you on a long-overdue promotion and to thank you for—“ She broke off, noticing the Ewoks for the first time. “What is this?”

The four senior pilots stared at her, lost for words. Myri came forward, clearing her throat.

“It’s a retirement gift, ma’am,” she said. “An addition to Uncle Wes’s Ewok collection.”

Leia looked at him. “You have an Ewok collection? I had no idea.”

Winter Celchu glided forward to stand next to her husband. “General Janson is a great admirer of the Ewok people, and has studied their culture extensively,” she said serenely. Tycho turned to his wife, staring as if he’d never seen her before.

Leia beamed. “But this is wonderful!” she said. She turned to Janson. “What with all the destruction and chaos of our war with the Yuuzhan Vong, our relations with the Ewoks have been very much neglected. There was one human settlement, which has diminished to a trading post and the Republic’s last representative went on medical leave last year and won’t be able to return. Cal Omas is looking for a new ambassador to the Ewok people, since they will still be particularly vulnerable to exploitation, now that the galaxy is undergoing such upheaval. You’d be perfect for the post! I’ll send him a message tonight.”

Janson blanched. Wedge’s mouth fell open as if to protest. Hobbie choked, and Tycho looked over at the Antilles sisters, who were listening to all of this with polite interest.

Leia favored Janson with a quick hug, and smiled and waved to the room as she left, leaving everyone to contemplate the complete breakdown of diplomatic relations with their small, furry allies.

In the pandemonium that followed, Winter sidled up to the two sisters. Syal looked up at her.

“How can we thank her for helping us?” she asked.

“Oh, she enjoyed being in on the joke,” said Winter. “No one believes she has a sense of humor, not even her own family. It’s nice when she has a chance to just be a regular person once in a while. She was actually really happy that we asked.”

“When should we tell him the truth?”

Winter shook her head. “Sometime next week, he’ll get a letter from the Diplomatic Corps, regretting that they are unable to offer him the post at this time, and wishing him the best of luck in his future endeavors.”

Syal smiled. “And the word ‘Ewok’ will never pass his lips again!”

“Let’s hope not,” said Winter.

Myri leaned back against the wall, and folded her arms across her chest with satisfaction.

“Yub, yub, Uncle Wes,” she said.


THE END

 

Just desserts. Speaking of which, they are gonna eat that cake, right?

 

Well, Wes may have lost his appetite, but I'm sure the girls will enjoy every crumb!

I don't think ANYONE can! Technically, only Leia & Winter were in on the joke, but I'm sure that nearly everyone in the room was a victim of Wes's jokes at one point or another, so yeah, I bet they were looking forward to the punchline!

Glad you liked it!

 

I absolutely LOVE how you had the Antilles girls beat Wes at his own game!

Good grief, the girls had all that in the back of the closet? No wonder they were so upset with Wes.

The scene where Winter and Leia turn up was everything. The reactions from the four buddies (especially Tycho's baffled look at his wife) was priceless.

And the idea of letting him marinate for a few days...

Awesome job!

 

Thanks, Chyntuck! I imagine the next few days will be spent with Wes desperately trying to extract himself...

 

Now, those girls should have outright said that they had some powerful friends and that Wes Janson was going to regret it. Because the extent to which they went to make this *real* was jaw-dropping. From what I know about Endor post-ROTJ in the Legends continuity, you got every single detail right and since that's the *reality* of the world Wes is living in, I can totally see that he would be legit worried about how believable Leia's speech was.

And he kind of deserves it for more than his Ewoks jokes. The womanizer thing at his age just couldn't have gone unpunished. Like, hey, dude, who do you think you are, Lando?

And a little detail I liked very, very much is how the girls practiced that innocent look since they were three. BWAHAHAHAHA.

 

It is good to have friends in high places. And you just KNOW that those girls probably have Daddy & half the squadron wrapped around their little fingers. And for the record, no Ewoks were harmed in the making of this fanfic.

 

I've been meaning to sit down and read this for awhile and I finally got the opportunity to do so and I'm glad I did, It seems Syal and Myri inherited the Rogue shenanigan gene and used it well!

I loved Hobbie recounting of the beginning of the whole Ewok obsession and Winter and Leia's appearance at the end!

 

Thanks, Mira_Jade and Briannakin! This bunny came out of nowhere & grew fast. I'm glad everyone enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Tormenting poor Wes is really rather fun...