[identity profile] batgirl-forever.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] starwarsficfest
Title: Kids Just Being Force-Wielding, Scheming, Always-Getting-into-Trouble-Like-Their-Parents Kids
Author: Latara the Ewok / [livejournal.com profile] batgirl_forever
Rating: G
Word count: 1600
Prompt: EU, Gen, the Solo kids: The Millennium Falcon, Dad's gonna kill us...
Characters: Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin Solo; C-3P0; Chewbacca
Summary: The Solo children try to be helpful during the preparations for their uncle's wedding.
A/N: Approx. 20 ABY, concurrent with the events of the graphic novel, Union. Written for the [livejournal.com profile] starwarsficfest, July 18th, 2008.

“Hold still, Threepio!” Jacen Solo ordered. “We gotta get you all clean for Uncle Luke’s wedding!”

It had been a pleasant enough afternoon for the Solo children aboard the Millennium Falcon. Well, as pleasant as possible, since their parents were helping Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade with wedding preparations, Chewbacca was up on the hull whittling away at the never-ending stream of repairs, and the persnickety droid C-3PO was minding them while they played their ten thousandth round of dejarik on the holotable. And the Solo children––twins Jaina and Jacen and younger brother Anakin––were bored. It was only natural that they wanted to help their busy parents by cleaning Threepio. Only probably was, they’d never cleaned a droid before.

It seemed easy enough––get a scour pad, a bucket of soapy water, and some oil to loosen the droid’s joints. As Anakin’s question had been, “How could it be much different than cleaning a human?”

Apparently, quite different, Threepio informed them. The three children were huddled around the squirming droid in the main cargo hold. Water sloshed around the deck at their feet, because Threepio had been so uncooperative they’d tackled and tied him down with the cargo restraints, overturning the bucket and sending soapsuds everywhere.

“Master Jacen, I must protest!” Threepio said. He flailed his arms, trying to bat the ten-year-old away. Jacen was trying to dislodge some debris from the droid’s neck with a blunt kitchen knife. When Jacen didn’t stop, Threepio appealed to his twin. “Mistress Jaina, I have served your family with dedication! Please, do not submit me to more of this torture!”

Jaina looked on with large, expressive brown eyes. She held a scour pad and a can of oil in either hand, and a smudge of grease ran across her cheek from the tip of her nose to just under her right eye. In a low tone, grave and disturbingly quiet for such a small child, she said, “If you’d stay still, this wouldn’t be so difficult.”

A bit removed from his older siblings, Anakin sat atop an empty crate, laughing to himself. “Jaya, have you been watching Dad’s spy dramas after bedtime again?”

She lifted her eyes slowly, and shook her head. Using that same tone, she said, “Of course not. Just like you haven’t been sneaking cookies before dinner.”

On the floor, Threepio rocked from side to side. “Master Jacen, if you don’t stop this instant––” Threepio didn’t finish, because his next rocking motion sent the knife straight into the seam where his head connected to his neck. With a wrenching pop, Threepio’s head sailed across the cargo hold to land in the now-empty bucket.

Three pairs of eyes and three mouths gaped open in shock. Jaina screamed, dropped her scour pad and oilcan, and ran to retrieve Threepio’s disembodied head. The water on the deck made Jaina slide to a stop, and she knocked the bucket over again. Threepio’s head rolled out, and splashed merrily along the deck into Anakin’s crate. The boy bit his lip, remaining motionless. Jacen stood frozen, knife still poised in his hand. The blood drained from his face.

“Dad’s gonna kill us,” he said.

Anakin hopped down from his crate, and with gentle fingers, picked up Threepio’s head. He turned the head in his hand to look into the unlit, golden eyes. “On any other day, Dad would say we’d done him a favor.”

“Dad’s not gonna kill us,” Jaina said, eyes glued at her feet. She raised her head slightly to look at her twin. “He’ll kill you. If you want, I could put you out of your misery nice and quick.”

“That’s not funny,” Jacen said. He finally dropped his arm. “I know funny.”

Jaina laughed once mockingly and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Like making jokes about space tape and the Force is funny.”

“But it’s true!” Jacen folded his arms. “It has a light side and a dark side and it holds the universe together!”

“You think we could use space tape to put his head back on?” Anakin asked. Closing one eye, he moved the head so, to his perspective, it was hovering over Threepio’s body.

Jaina crossed over to him and snatched Threepio’s head out of his hands. “Right. Like Mom and Dad wouldn’t notice that. Come on.” She turned, and started treading out of the hold.

Following after her, Jacen said, “Where’re you going?”

She said over her shoulder, “To get Chewie. He’ll know what to do.”

The Solo kids wandered outside in time to find Chewbacca climbing down the ladder off of the Falcon’s hull, a satchel full of tools slung over his shoulder. Jaina hid Threepio’s head behind her back before they walked up to him.

“Hey, Chewie,” she said brightly. “Whatcha doin’?”

At two and a half meters, the great Wookiee towered over the Solo kids, and having more than two hundred years of experience on them, knew something suspicious was afoot.

< I have finished repairing the sensor dish, which should fix the orange tint appearing in all the HoloNet images, > Chewie rumbled. He narrowed his eyes at them inquisitively. < What mischief are you three up to now? >

“No mischief,” Jacen said. “Just, uhm, we had a bit of a head-spinning experience.”

“Jacen!” Jaina whipped her head to look at her twin. “That’s not funny!”

“Jaya!” Anakin wailed, pointing a finger at his sister. In turning to talk to Jacen, Jaina had brought up her hands––and Threepio’s head––to shake them wildly at her brother. She now shoved the head behind her back again, and tittered nervously.

Chewie regarded them not so much in disbelief, but with an expression that indicated he had no idea what to do with the children. He shook his head, and said, < And why did Threepio deserve a beheading? >

“It was an accident,” Jacen said, and sniffed. “We were just trying to clean him.”

Anakin stepped closer, put on his most innocent face. He looked piteously at Chewie, and asked, “Can you fix him?”

< After the last time I had to put Threepio back together, I don’t believe he would want me to do so again. No, > Chewie replied, and began to pack up the tools strewn on his portable worktable.

“But you’ve got to help! You saw how much of a wreck Dad was this morning,” Jaina protested, eyes stricken with panic.

“And that wasn’t because of the bar fight,” Anakin added somberly, referencing the swoopie brawl that had unraveled the night before during his uncle’s unofficial bachelor party. “That’s because he’s getting his new clothes fitted today.”

< No, > Chewie said. < You three will have to face the consequences yourselves. How else do you expect to become responsible Jedi, otherwise? >

The children shifted around uncomfortably. Anakin wrung his hands behind his back, head resting on a raised shoulder, and Jacen stubbed the deck with the toe of his boot. Jaina remained in a defiant pose, balled fists pressed firmly to her narrow, pre-teen hips. Her eyes roved the glowpanels above, seeming to sift through scrolling lines of information.

“Okay,” she said. Her eyes remained focused on the glowpanels. She puffed a jet of air from her mouth, sending her bangs skyward. “Okay, then I guess we’ll have to tell Mom and Dad about what really made the kitchen flash-heater explode.”

Chewie, stooped over his worktable, ceased packing the tools away, and slowly straightened himself. He angled his head to look at Jaina, and in a low rumble said, < That’s blackmail. Neither can you prove it. >

“Sure we can,” Jacen said, and clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Anakin installed a hidden camera in the kitchen to prove his innocence that he wasn’t sneaking cookies.”

Anakin nodded. “I scrounged it out of parts I found at the Jedi academy.”

Warily, Chewie sniffed the air, as if he could smell lies. < If you had a cam in the kitchen, it would have been picked up on scanners. >

“Not a passive one that turns on when motion’s detected and only after I activate it remotely,” Anakin stated, and raised his chin proudly.

< That’s decidedly underhanded, > Chewie replied after a moment.

“Brilliant, too,” Jaina agreed.

Jacen patted Anakin’s shoulder. “Great job, little brother.”

Weighing the children’s counter-offer carefully, Chewie spun a hydrospanner absent-mindedly around on the worktable. < Fine, > Chewie finally growled, < I’ll fix Threepio––but you all will help. >

The three siblings gave each other approving glances, heads bobbing up and down in unison. Unofficial speaker for the group, Jaina said, “I think we can work out an agreement. It’s a deal.”

< Well? > Chewie said, ruffling his brow. < Go inside and start cleaning up your mess. I’ll be along in a minute. >

Not ones to argue with a being that could easily squash them, the Solo kids turned and made their way back to the loading ramp. While walking, Jacen put an arm around his sister’s shoulders, and said, “Y’know? I hope I don’t ever get on your bad side. You’ve got Mom’s skill for using leverage, but you’d probably resort to Dad’s style of blast first, ask questions later.”

Jaina reciprocated by looping her own arm around Jacen. “We’re twins. Not even a fleet of Star Destroyers could come between us––nor World Devastators, nor an army of Sith.”

The three mounted the loading ramp, and Jacen pondered this. “Yeah. You’re right. Even if we were on different sides of the galaxy, we’d still have each other.”

~ Fin.
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