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SWFF: Last of the Jedi Episode 16
By Marie Wadsworth
Friday, May 25, 2012
Not rated by the Author.
Luke and Trisha volunteer to see if the Alliance should go to Corscucant.
She landed the Kriegende Ritterin in the Alliance headquarter's hangar.
Steam misted upward from the remains of the ship's after burn. A hiss pierced the air as the gang plank lowered.
A brown haired, medium build pilot, dressed in an orange flight suit, holding a helmet under his arm, waited for her top side.
Her hair was restrained in a pony tail. She looked more like a girl than a woman. But he wasn't fooled. She was all woman. He could tell. She had all the bumps and curves in the right places. She knew how to swing those legs and hips as she strode down the gang plank. And her tight black outfit emphasized her slim, athletic body.
He was taken aback by her beauty. *Whoa! I think I'm in love.*
Trisha regarded him with interest. "You must be Luke's friend."
"That's right," he said stripping his beige glove from his right hand and stretching it to her. "Wedge Antilles."
Trisha shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Wedge."
His eyes were revited to a metallic cylinder at her waist. "Is that lightsaber?"
"It's an occupational hazard," she said wryly.
"You're a Jedi Knight?" Wedge said in surprise.
"Either that," her emerald danced with amusement. "Or I have an extremely high opinion of myself."
He laughed lightly. "I suppose I should take you to the meeting. That is if you still want to get involved."
She certainly did. She smiled, gesturing expansively. "Lead the way."
He entered the grand hall.
Many of the representatives stared at him as he moved to his designated seat in the chamber. They knew why he was here.
In mid stride he sensed something. He glanced over his shoulder.
Trisha was sprawled out in a very unlady like manner. Her black boots were crossed at the ankles. Her shapely legs were swung onto the table. His eyes followed the smooth, muscular lines leading to an exotic region of her body.
She smiled. *If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, then the mountain will come to Mohammed.*
Luke stared at her. He hoped he wasn't showing how glad he was she was there.
The focus shifted. Mon Monthma pounded her gavel on the podium. "This meeting will now come to order."
Luke quietly slid in his seat.
"Madam President, if I may I'd like to begin by addressing an issue we tabled last meeting," Kronos Eldin, the representative from Nirauan Adumar, said rising. His gaze drifted to Luke. "I see the party in question is present today."
Mon Monthma nodded.
Eldin continued, "I recommend the Alliance establish its new government headquarters on Coruscant."
"What for?" Ackbar gestured with his webbed hand. "The Sullustians haven't asked us to leave."
"You are correct, Admiral," Eldin agreed. "But does the Alliance want to perpetuate the rag tag planet hopping image it has, or does it want to be recognized as a legitimate government?"
Luke cleared his throat. "I'm not sure we should move to Coruscant."
Eldin regarded him. "Why not?"
"I have a bad feeling about it," he said quietly.
"Oh, come on," Trisha blurted out. "Moving to Coruscant makes perfect sense. Coruscant has a history of being the hub of government. If you establish yourself there you've got it made."
~Are you insane?~ Luke's blue eyes burned into her. ~ Even with its history, going to Coruscant is suicidal.~
She held his gaze. *You don't know that.*
He shook his head. ~ I know it's wrong. Coruscant is evil.~
*Are you sure?* She raised an eyebrow in his direction.
He swallowed. Maybe his feelings did reflect more of a personal prejudice than it did Jedi intuition.
"Then you would be willing to go to Coruscant and give us a report about whether we should establish a new government there?" Eldin said.
"Sure," Trisha said with a shrug.
She glared at him. *Are you trying to tell me something, Skywalker?*
He stood silently staring at her.
She shook her head. *I have to hand it to you, Skywalker, you never change.*
He frowned. ~I suppose you think I'm going to volunteer for this mission.~
Her eyes narrowed into cold slits. *I can handle myself.*
Of that he had no doubt but he couldn't let her go alone, especially not after the nightmare visions he'd had.
And it wasn't like she hadn't had these visions herself.
He sighed. "Madam President, I'd like to be part of this excursion."
"But of course," Mon Monthma said, approval in her voice.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. Her arms crossed over her chest, she looked pleased with herself.
He shook his head. He'd never live this down.
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