Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas

All the OCs and Unfictionalized Character Transition Support are copyright me!

As I drove through the unfamiliar suburbs in my company-rented car, I couldn't help but worry about everything. Never before had my job taken me out of the New York City area before. Before that day, I'd only been an office-only counselor for fangirl-summoned incarnations of Star Wars characters.

Then again, I'd worked for USTC (Unfictionalized Character Transition Support) for two or three years. With a profession like this, you're always traveling.

Anyway, I make more than most 26-year-olds.

Hey, if it weren't for the built-in GPS I'd be lost already!

I finally pulled into the driveway in the early evening. The papers my boss gave me say the family is fine with me parking there, luckily. Probably because we might sue if the car gets damaged while parked in the street.

The house itself looked average enough… two stories, a small front porch.

I walked up to the door, but before my fist managed to make contact with it a dog began barking very loudly.

A middle-aged woman, wearing a t-shirt that advertised an amateur theatre troupe, opened the door. For some reason the dog (a golden retriever) stopped barking the second she did so.

"Hello, I'm Charlotte Johnson. Are you Mrs. Bradley?"

"That's me. You're here about those people that showed up last week, I presume?"

I nodded.

"Do come in, then."

The woman led me into a living room of sorts. Two couches and one armchair surrounded a coffee table. Both couches were occupied, but the chair wasn't. I carefully sat down there.

On one couch sat the ex-fictionals. Worryingly, Luke Skywalker had his arm around Leia Organa's shoulders in a rather romantic way. Han Solo had a sullen look of annoyance on his face.

On the other sat a young man who gave the impression of a kid forced to dress-up for church; a glasses-wearing teenage girl with a far-too-cheerful expression on her face; and a balding middle-aged man wearing glasses.

"This is Ms. Johnson. She's the lady from New York who's going to help everyone get used to the three… characters who showed up," explained Mrs. Bradley, sitting down between the teenage girl and the middle aged man.

"I think some introductions are in order. Everyone say you're name and something nice about yourself." I sounded like a kindergarten teacher, but this stuff was the standard protocol.

Everyone stared at me.

"Well… I'll go first. My name is Ms. Charlotte Johnson and my favorite food is chocolate."

"My name is Kathy Bradley and I own a golden retriever named Butterscotch," said Mrs. Bradley

"I'm Mr. Bradley and I collected spaceship models as a kid," said the middle-aged man.

"My names's Emily Bradley and I love the Star Wars franchise," said the teenage girl.

"I'm Ethan Bradley," said the young man, not looking up from his iPhone.

"Han Solo. I pilot a ship called the Millennium Falcon."

"I'm Princess Leia Organa and I was an important part of the rebel alliance." She seemed quite annoyed.

"My name is Luke Skywalker, and I'm from the planet Tatooine."

"Right. And first things first we need to know the last thing that happened before you three appeared here. Mr. Skywalker, would you like to start?"

Everyone looked expectantly at Luke Skywalker.

"Well, we'd just gotten back on Han's ship, the Falcon. That monster Darth Vader had just killed Ben Kenobi."

Tricky… hasn't even made it through Episode IV.

"So, the most important rule in these situations is no unneeded spoilers," I explained, carefully taking a folder out of my shoulder bag. "We're going to find any copies of the movies and any Expanded Universe books, so I can hide them until I know they're ready to find out what happens next. Since I'm the only trained professional, I'm the only person who can judge whether a spoiler is needed or not. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded mutely.

I took a sheet of paper out of my folder. It was a list of important points to make at our first meeting. I knew I'd missed something...

"We need to know our goals. Do we want Mr. Skywalker, Miss Organa, and Mr. Solo to get their own jobs or be out of the house by a certain date? Or just as soon as possible?"

"Isn't it too early for that? Why, they've only been here for a few days!" said Emily.

"I'm sure they want to leave, after all your excessive fangirling," muttered Ethan.

"I think we deserve a say in this, Ms. Johnson!" said Miss Organa, standing up and stalking over to me.

I forced myself to smile politely. "You will. I was asking everyone about this."

"Can they stay here for a few weeks?" asked Emily.

"Since they have no way of getting jobs for a while..." I glanced over at the owners of the house.

Miss Organa retreated to her place on the couch, apparently realizing nothing she could say at this point actually mattered.

"Yes, they can stay for up to a year," said Mr. Bradley.

"Hopefully we won't need that much time. It takes up to six months for my company to prepare all the paperwork to make them unfictional US citizens, which includes the name-change process. Some basic lessons in 21st century terran technology and American social conventions are also a must. I'll evaluate you three tomorrow, so we can start the adapting process tomorrow."

I was about to end our first little meeting when I remembered something...

"There's a certain spoiler I've got to say right now. Miss Organa and Mr. Skywalker are siblings, so they should avoid a romantic relationship of any kind."

Within seconds they were sitting much farther apart, no longer holding each other's hand. Luke Skywalker's face had turned bright red.

"I told you to be more grateful for me, sweetheart," muttered Mr. Solo.

"Any more questions?" I asked.

Nobody responded in any way, so I continued to speak. "If possible, I'd like the adult terrans to leave. Speaking with only the ex-fictionals and teenage terrans is often a good idea. It often helps the ex-fictionals understand the popular culture of the era."

Mr. Bradley glanced at his wife. "If it's fine with you…"

She nodded, and then they left the room.

Ethan sighed dramatically. "Did you really need to tell Luke and Leia that they are siblings? If you hadn't told them until a few years from now, they would've had a bunch of inbred children. It would've been funnier than those Rocky Horror Picture Show Riffraff/Magenta incest fanfictions."

Mr. Skywalker, Miss Organa, Mr. Solo, and Emily all looked confused.

"What the hell is he talking about?" asked Han Solo.

Oh, dear. "Another thing I forgot to mention… the Internet is currently off-limits for the ex-fictionals. For one thing, you could learn unnecessary spoilers. But you could also find what we call 'fanfiction'. I'm pretty sure none of us want to find out what happened when somebody tried to write a Han Solo/Luke Skywalker m-rated romance. Rule 34 also tells us that somewhere there exists a story where Darth Vader and the Emperor do some very naughty things."

That shut everyone up quite nicely. I think metaphorically I scarred all the minds of all five of them… except perhaps Ethan, who seemed like the sort who already found out what dirtiness lurks in the hearts of quite a few computer-savvy teenagers.

"That's really scary," muttered Miss Organa.

"What do young people in this world do for fun?" asked Mr. Skywalker.

"That's a good question. What do you think, Emily?" I said, once again sounding vaguely like a stoned kindergarten teacher.

"They watch movies a lot. Well, my friends do," said Emily.

"Movies?" asked Mr. Skywalker.

"They're like holodramas," I explained.

Part of my 'ex-fictionals counselor' training had involved translating fictional concepts to terran equivalents. Those hours of reviewing boring glossaries had really come in handy later on.

"Ooooooh, maybe Ally and Katy could watch The Phantom of the Opera with us! I'm sure Leia would think Gerard Butler was really cute in that movie," Emily said cheerfully.

"That monstrosity of a badly done musical is an insult to the film industry. Maybe we could watch a proper film. Jurassic Park, maybe?" replied her brother.

"Are there any films you both agree on?" I asked.

"Star Wars," said Ethan dully.

"And Back To the Future!" Emily added.

That movie would make a good introduction into American popular culture. Before I could reply, of course, Ethan spoke again. "That doesn't count. You only like that movie because you think that the actor who played Marty McFly is cute."

"At least it's a mainstream movie you both like. So we should use this movie as part of our first semi-formal lesson in popular culture," I said.

"So you're going to teach us about 21st American popular culture? That's what you're here for?" asked Miss Organa.

I nodded. "To begin with. We'll also begin teaching you about terran technology, which in many cases aren't too far from your own tech. You better be glad you're not from Middle-earth. My friend Sophie Blythe works with those people, and they can barely understand anything more advanced than a frying pan."

Ethan's phone buzzed. "Mom just texted. She says that she's ordering pizza, if that's fine."

"Ask her if you're allowed to watch movies and eat at the same time? Pizza isn't that messy and we need the ex-fictionals to begin learning as quickly as possible," I said.

"Can you please not call us 'ex-fictionals'?" asked Han Solo.

"Sorry, it's just standard company terminology. What should I call you, Mr. Solo?"

"Don't call me 'Mr. Solo', it makes me sound old. You can call me Han," he said.

"Princess Leia? Should we refer to you by your full title, or what?" Mr. Skywalker asked, presumably trying to be helpful.

"Just call me Leia, since the princess bit takes to long to say. But that doesn't mean you don't have to respect me. Though my home planet of Al-"

"Stop right there, Leia," I interrupted her. "Your home planet never existed in this part of the universe. We can't address any of you by titles bestowed by organizations from your galaxy. Not only are they not valid, it'll draw attention to the fact that you aren't terrans."

"So, I'm no longer an important leader of the Rebel Alliance?" asked Leia, her tone of voice bordering on sulky.

I took a deep breath. "Okay…. this is where it gets tricky. There are two 'yous' now. The Leia Organa sitting in this room right now isn't an important leader of the Rebel Alliance. But the Leia in your galaxy is doing exactly what the timeline says she should be doing."

"It's a bit like Clara Oswald in series seven of Doctor Who, right?" said Ethan.

"Sort of," I replied.

At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Bradley came into the room with the pizza.

"If it's alright with you two, I think we're going to watch a movie while we eat," I told them.

"Why?" Mr. Bradley asked.

"Because we need to begin introducing the guests to terran popular culture. Your children appear to agree on the 1985 film Back to the Future. I having a feeling that if we pick a movie they don't both like, we'll suffer two hours of complaints."

"Oh, I liked that movie when I was a teenager! Michael J. Fox was so cute as Marty McFly!" said Mrs. Bradley.

I was starting to see a recurring theme here. The girls in the Bradley family only seemed to like movies if they found the male actors 'cute'. Hopefully Emily didn't have a huge crush on Han Solo. That sort of thing always made these cases more challenging (according to my boss, at least).

I hope I survive this…

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