AUTHOR'S NOTE: I left the EU behind many years ago. Like a certain red-headed Jedi in this story, I thought I'd catch up on what happened since I left.
Suffice to say, this is my reaction.
I don't own them. If I did, this story wouldn't need to be written.
Spoilers though the Legacy books. From a certain point of view.
He feels a disturbance in the Force.
It's a feeling with which he is intimately familiar.
When Alderaan was destroyed. At the time he thought the hollow pit in his soul and the taste of despair in his mouth was an aftereffect of taking his first journey off-planet. Or a reaction to his first hyperspace jump. Or just Han's questionable piloting skills. He knows better now.
When his sister was trapped, his best friend frozen in carbonite, and one of the most hated beings in the galaxy opened up his mind to the truth about his parentage.
When his father died in his arms.
Today's disturbance doesn't come anywhere close to those as a galaxy-changing, or even life-changing, moment.
But, gods, is it LOUD.
He puts down the datapads. They were getting a bit difficult to read, anyway. Any day now he'll have to increase the screen resolution. Vanity is not becoming in a Jedi, he mutters under his breath, but it's still inconvenient getting old.
It's not hard to locate the source of the disturbance. She sits at the comm unit, having an animated conversation with their youngest offspring. When she feels him approach, she says goodbye and swivels in her chair to face him.
"That was Ami."
"I know. I think half the Force sensitives from here to the Unknown Regions know."
"She was refused admittance to the Drunken Bantha last night. When she showed her ID card, the door attendant said everyone knows there are only two people with that surname left in the galaxy, and she didn't look like a Ben or a Luke." She crosses her arms. Her body is still dancer-thin and deathly graceful. Her eyes still shine like emerald suns. And her temper, generally triggered by other people's shortcomings, is more scathing than ever. Especially when unleashed on her children's behalf.
He has a bad feeling about this.
"I've had it with those holodramas and flimsiplast novels! It's one thing when they kriff with my life, or even yours or Leia's. We're adults. But for Ami to be told she doesn't exist, just because some credit-grubbing holodrama producer thinks limiting us to only one child creates a, quote, better story…!" Fury burns bright across their bond, scalding his senses. He watches her fingers. He doesn't think that she would attempt a Force choke, she's of the Light after all, but it doesn't hurt to observe.
"Anger is…" He hides his smile, knowing what she will say next.
"Stuff it." Right on cue.
"The holodramas are just make believe. Fiction. Made up stories. They're not real. Ami was being teased. She needs to stop rising to the bait." It's a well-known fact their daughter looks like him, but reacts like her mother. Unfortunately for Ami, her hot emotions make her an easy target for pranks. Fortunately for Ami, she was raised by two loving parents in a home filled with Light. Their daughter was never coerced into concealing her fiery interior behind an exterior wall of ice while serving as the Emperor's Hand.
Perhaps that's why his wife indulges her temper from time to time. Growing up, her façade could show no cracks. And she is adept at controlling her emotions when she must. When it is important.
He'll gladly put up with the occasional disturbance in the Force if it keeps memories of her childhood far away.
She sighs. A lock of hair still more red-gold than silver is batted from her eyes. "I stopped paying attention to the holodramas soon after our marriage. When it was painfully obvious that the facts weren't gong to stand in the way of what they wanted to put on screen."
"I thought the Hand of Thrawn two-parter was pretty decent."
"It was one of the better miniseries by far. For the most part."
"But?"
"But. Like I'm going to get engaged without being kissed first, much less anything else. I still can't believe they portrayed me as someone who would buy a landspeeder without taking it out for a test drive. Several test drives."
"Landspeeder? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"You know what I mean."
"I know the landspeeder was very well used by the time we made ownership official, yes. You always did want to be the death of me."
She laughs, rich and full-throated. It warms his soul, fills in yet another hole. "That's the only holodrama I fully approve. The Thrawn Trilogy. Got almost everything right."
"Almost?"
"That idiotic black leather catsuit. How was I supposed to use the 'fresher in that thing?"
He lifts an eyebrow. She narrows her gaze, but the blush on her cheeks gives her away. She knows he knows she bought a replica of the costume at an Endor Day Celebration. Even wears it for him sometimes.
"Anyway." She clears her throat. "One, maybe two—"
"Survivor's Quest?"
"Fine. They lucked out and put out three decent holodramas. It still does not condone the lack of respect and utter disregard for our family shown by the nerf-herding producers!" The heat rises anew in her Force signature.
He shrugs. "When it comes to choosing which battle to fight, somehow storming a holodrama production office pales next to renegade Imperials, renegade Jedi Knights, renegade smugglers, renegade New Republic officials…"
"But now these…expansions," she hisses the word, "are affecting our children." Her eyes glitter like those of a predator on a moonlit night.
"What does Ben say?"
"You don't remember what happened at the Academy? When the other students spliced together all the embarrassing scenes they could find of holodrama Ben as a baby?"
Right. The wall of the Academy student lounge still bears the scar from where the holoprojecter smashed into it. Ami isn't the only child who resembles their mother's temper. "That was years ago. I'm sure he's past it."
Her mouth twists into a smirk. "Owen told me, now that the holodrama Ben is older, our Ben finds it quite useful for meeting girls. 'Hey baby, wanna go out with the real life inspiration for last night's episode?'"
She waggles her eyebrows and they laugh and laugh. It's a dead-on impersonation of their second son pretending to be their first-born.
"And Owen? What's his view?"
"Oh, you know Owen. Not much bothers him. He says they're of no concern unless one of the physically impossible events they depict, like a moon crashing into a planet, really happens. " She rolls her eyes at the preposterous idea. "He's happy to be left off screen. Lets him fly under the radar."
He nods. At least one of the kids has his temperament. Thank the Maker. As Threepio would say. "So really, this is about Ami being refused admittance to a cantina. A cantina, by the way, she's too young to be patronizing in the first place."
"No, it's not." But she relents. "Yes, it did start when Ami called me. But then I did some research on the 'net." She turns back to the comm unit and pulls up a screen. "Look. I've been written out of the holodramas."
"What?" He bends over her shoulder to take a better look. "According to the latest episode guide, you're…" His breath hitches, stops.
"I know."
"How dare they!" His anger blazes like a hundred supernovas, casting his wife's earlier display of temper far into the shade.
This is HIS life, HIS family. If some womp rat-faced holodrama producer thinks she can play with his loved ones like so many dolls made of flimsiplast...he will replace her thoughts with new ones. Painful ones. All the fires of Mustafar will not serve as enough punishment! The rage builds, his vision narrows until all he sees is darkness and fear. Holodrama producer fear.
A flood of cooling empathy cuts across his senses as his wife sends calm strength through their bond. The darkness recedes. His pulse slows its racing, his fingernails cease digging deep in his palms. Slowly, he comes back to himself. Back to the Light. Back to his love.
He struggles to catch his breath. Getting older also means recovering from a brush with the dark side takes a bit more out of him than it used to. He thought he had left all of that long behind him. No wonder holodrama watching is said to be bad for one's health. They're definitely banned from his home from now on.
"I'd suggest we sue, but when you and I got engaged Leia explained what I was in for." She watches him with a rueful expression. "Sorry, love. I had time to absorb it. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that."
He shakes his head. Pulls her out of her chair and into his arms, where he can feel her heart beating against him and her breath on his cheek.
"It's only make believe." Devious amusement dances in her eyes. "Fiction. Made up stories. It's not real."
He kisses her. He has never been happier to eat his words.
"That," he lets out a string of Huttese swear words so foul even his wife is taken aback, "contract we signed. But the Rebellion needed the credits. Leia thought it was just for a one-off holodrama. We didn't realize until it was too late that we'd signed away the rights to our lives, our ancestors' lives and our descendents' lives."
"Your sister is a very wise politician. But even a Bothan would be no match for a Dug-spawned holodrama producer."
He nods. Holds her closer.
The comm chirps. She glances at it. "Speaking of your sister, that's her."
He loosens his grip on her slender waist with reluctance. "She must have felt my distress."
"I think every Force sensitive from here to the Unknown Regions felt it." But she smiles, and brushes her lips against his jaw. "I'll talk to Leia. You should consider going into a deep Force meditation, block out all external stimuli."
"To cleanse away any aftereffects from touching the dark side?"
"No. Because I'm about to fill her in on what the holodramas have done to HER children. And that's one disturbance you might want to miss."