Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, and I'm not making any money off this story. Now that the legal stuff's dispersed with . . .
Synopsis: Who ate the cookies in the cookie jar? Was it you? Not me, couldn't be. It was Jacen.
Section: Humor
*word* [indicates emphasis of word] [indicates thoughts]
Author: Asyr Sei'lar
Title: Midnight Raid
Leia glared at everybody in the kitchen. "All right," she said, the menace in her voice extremely apparent to everyone, "who ate the crab cookies I made for Admiral Ackbar?" Jaina and Jacen shifted uneasily. Luke looked at his shoes. Han coughed into his closed palm. Anakin ignored them all and continued reading from his datapad. "Was it you, Luke?" she asked her brother, a well-known midnight raider of the fridge. "Not me. Couldn't be. It's probably Han," he answered, brushing sweat off his forehead. "Han?" she asked, glaring at him. He was the *other* well-known midnight snacker of the family. He put up his hands and gave her his best hurt/innocent look. "Not me, darling," he answered. Leia sighed. She could never stay angry with him when he had that expression on his face. To cover up her feelings, she glared at her children. "Jaina? Jacen?" The twins glanced at each other and said unanimously, "Wasn't us. We hate crabs." Luke concentrated on the Force to find clues to the midnight raider's identity, but by simple deductive reasoning and observation (in other words, looking at the floor) Jaina pointed at a crumb trail. "Let's follow it," she yelled as she ran out the front door. The others were a few steps behind her. The trail led them through the war room. Jaina paused to look around for a minute. She saw Ghent at one of the consoles. "Hey, Ghent," she said. "What are you up to this time?" The slicer didn't answer, but all of a sudden all the computer screens shut off. She sighed. "You crashed the computers again, didn't you?" The slicer frowned. "I can't help it. The upgrade I designed for these computers just isn't working. But that alone couldn't cause a computer crash. Some bozo put a virus in the computer system, I bet. Just wait 'till I get my hands on whatever slicer . . ." "Come on, Jaina," Jacen yelled at his sister as the rest of the family raced into the war room. "Gotta go," she yelled at Ghent as she raced toward after her brother. "Hope you can fix the problem." Jacen now outdistanced the rest of the family. he thought. Intent on the trail, he didn't notice the dark-haired man exiting General Airen Cracken's office until they collided. "Ooof!" Jacen fell hard on his backside. "Watch where you're going!" snapped the man. He rose and glared at Jacen. "What are you doing here, anyway?" "I was . . ." Jacen never finished as General Airen Cracken himself, head of NRI, walked towards them. "Mr. Solo," he acknowledged. He frowned at the dark-haired man. "I don't believe I know you." The man glared at Jacen again. "I was just passing by when this big lummox ran into me." Jacen frowned. "You came out of his office," he noted, wondering why this man had been in Cracken's office if Cracken didn't know him. Cracken's face hardened. "He's a spy," he concluded. "Detain him!" The man was about to run, but Jacen tripped over his feet trying to chase the man and fell on the spy. Both went down. Jacen was trying not to throw up from the second blow to his stomach. Cracken's shout had alerted some nearby guards and they surrounded the two downed men. Jacen was now on his knees, dusting off his pants, but the spy was still sprawled on the floor. "Get up, slowly," said one of the security guys, motioning at the spy with his blaster. As Jacen rose, Cracken slapped him heartily on the back, nearly toppling Jacen again. "Well done," he said. "You might get a medal for this." "I'll settle for getting my breath back," Jacen wheezed. The rest of the family charged in and Jacen waved a brief good-bye at Cracken as he joined them. The trail wound its way into Rogue Squadron headquarters. Sounds of pilots talking, astromechs beeping, and the rumble of ships' engines filled the entire hangar bay they passed. Luke spotted his old friends from Red Squadron—now known as Rogue Squadron—Wedge Antilles and Wes Janson. "Luke!" Wedge called out, waving at his old friend. Luke grinned and jogged over to where the two pilots were. "Wedge! Command of Rogue Squadron certainly agrees with you," Luke said. "It doesn't, actually," Wes Janson put in. "He's just become more sadistic than usual." Luke laughed. "Sure, Wes. Getting back at you for your pranks?" Wedge laughed, and Wes grinned mischievously. Luke sobered. "Wedge, Wes, did you see or hear anything unusual last night here?" They shook their heads. "Not us," Wes admitted, "but Corran felt a disturbance in the Force. At about the same, Inyri swore she heard some type of animal in here." Luke nodded. "Thanks, guys," he said, not noticing that Wedge was not with them anymore. A sudden yell pulled him out of his thoughts. A bucket of water had doused Wes, leaving him dripping all over the floor. Holding the bucket was a triumphantly-smiling Wedge. Another pilot—Luke saw it was Corran Horn—grabbed a spray bottle and put whipped cream all over Wes. His wife, Mirax Terrik, slid some whipping cream down the back of his shirt. He yelped as the cold substance slid down his bare skin. "It's revenge time!" declared Inyri Forge. The Rogue Squadron pilots converged on the hapless Janson. Luke hid a grin as he ran to catch up with the rest of the family. He caught up with them in front of the Senate Chambers. Taking a deep breath, Leia pulled open one of the heavy doors. Inside, the vast, silent room echoed their footsteps strangely. No meetings were scheduled for that day because it was the weekend. Well, they weren't completely alone . . . A black-and-white furred Bothan stood near the chair Leia usually occupied during Senate sessions. He was staring at the floor . . . Leia thought. "Councilor Fey'lya?" she called carefully. The Bothan looked up, startled. "Is something wrong?" The Bothan hesitated for a moment, pulling together that dignity all his species were noted for. Especially when it came to political dealings. Borsk Fey'lya looked at her coolly. "I am fine, Chief of State," he said. "However, Vermin Control should check the Palace more thoroughly." "Vermin Control . . . ?" Leia was not quite following. "There was a . . . *creature* running through here last night," Borsk said in a tight voice. "I was retrieving some materials I had left at my seat. I heard a noise. I went to investigate and . . . something ran through the door." "I see," Leia said, not seeing at all. "I'll be sure to warn them to be on the lookout for a large animal." "Madame President," he said, grasping her arm, "it is large, and very dangerous. It poses a threat—" "I said I'll warn Vermin Control about it," she said, steel in her voice. He tried to say something, but she cut him off with a punch to the chest. He went down, breathless. she thought, a trace of guilt in the stream of satisfaction flooding her. "Leia, what . . . ?" Luke came up behind her. "I felt the dark side of the Force . . ." He glanced at the fallen Fey'lya. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "I see," he said neutrally. "For all those political maneuverings, for all the trouble you gave me," she muttered under her breath in satisfaction, "this is what you get." Han appeared from behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Shall we continue?" he asked. She nodded and the family continued on. Jaina and Jacen noticed the smile on Luke's face, but didn't have time to ask about the source of his amusement before they began moving again. They ran past a residential area and back into New Republic Starfighter Command headquarters (lots of headquarters, what can I say). Han Solo stopped without warning, nearly tumbling him over as Leia plowed headfirst into him accidentally. "Han?" she said hesitantly as she glanced at what he was staring at. A striking brunette in a flight suit was sitting patiently in Ackbar's waiting room. Leia started to push her husband along the corridor. "Come on, Han," she grunted. "We've got a mission, remember?" Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away from the female pilot and blushed slightly. "Right," he said determinedly, covering his embarrassment. Leia rolled her eyes and muttered something sounded suspiciously like an exasperated "Men!" The trail wound its way back to their apartment, entering through another entrance. In they went, following the trail, going where no trail (except this one) has gone before. The trail abruptly ended at the door to Jacen's room. "Jacen . . ." Leia growled, a note of warning in her voice. "It wasn't me, Mom, I swear!" Shaking her head, she entered the boy's room, looking at the menagerie of cages and pets he kept in his room. One cage in particular caught her eye. There was a vornskyr in it, with pink-and-white crumbs all over its snout. Han snorted. "I should have known," he said sarcastically, shaking his head. "Jacen, did you buy a more secure look for his cage like I told you to?" "I did," Jacen said, speaking rapidly. "He must have figured out how to open this one, too." Leia glanced at the lock. "Jacen, you didn't exactly buy a good one," she noted. She looked at her son. "As punishment for this whole little incident, you're going to bake crab cookies. And they'd better be good." Looking at the stubborn, hard, angry expressions on his parents' faces, he knew there was no chance he was going to get out of *this* punishment.
