A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
It was dull.
Like, seriously dull.
Dull dull dull dull dull dully dulldulldull.
It was so immeasurably, incorrigibly boring and dull for everyone everywhere! So much nothing has been going on it's hard to keep track of the days. I mean yeah everything's pretty much wrapped up with the Compendium as far as conflicts are concerned, and there was that brief burst of chaos during Christmas, but in a galaxy famed for its thrilling conflicts this is a serious downer! Soldiers and civilians alike find themselves living life listlessly with hardly anything exciting to do. And you can imagine just how bad it is for the heroic Jedi, settling with domestic living once more.
But hark, my ears do pick up the subtle notes of intrigue on the stellar winds. Something fresh is fast approaching, and no doubt this'll bring some excitement into the lives of our heroes. As well as to so many others, huhuhu.
In a sector of deep space, on the border of the Unknown Regions and the Inner Rim, something thrums heavily in the void. Grand and imposing, yet veiled in shadow. Not completely lifeless, however, for there are subtle stirrings within its great innards. Various workers mill about in the dim interior, one of whom making their way to the command center. Stepping into the office, he makes his chirpy report.
"Everything's ready to go, boss."
A clacking of claw on cane acknowledges this information. In the dark, golden eyes gleam.
"Send the invitations. And hit the lights."
Shafts of light pour out from the structure mere minutes after the order is given. As it awakens, a myriad of golden specks shoots out and disperses in every direction, streaking off for worlds beyond.
It's all quiet aboard the famed vacation station Jawa Home. A dull sort of quiet, and not the relaxing and reflective kind. Little surprise considering that most of the guests are down on sleepy Ithor touring the great sleepy jungles as the interstellar resort sleepily orbits around. In the cozy administrative offices near the command center of the vessel there lounges the galaxy's Champion Cuddlers for two years running, Squishy and Sylvia. Doing their best not to be asleep.
"Nothing quite as soothing as going over quarterly visitor records," lies the Jawa as he reads a long list of past visitors. "Say, honey, did you get any calls from the kids?"
"Just one from Sally about arriving in the Rodian Sector safely," his lovely Ssi-Ruu wife answers as she files one of her formidable foreclaws.
"That's good. How long is she gonna tour there?"
"Only a week. Not much happening there as she put it."
"We should go out there in a few days to see her on stage before the season starts. Been awhile since we did that, and that's a parental thing to do."
"That certainly is. I'm sure she would be happy to see us."
"And the same for us in seeing her." Squishy tosses his scroll across his desk and looks at his beloved. "It just occurred to me, love of my life: I'm boooored!"
"So am I, Squishy," Sylvia sighs in sympathy. "But it's going to get very busy very soon."
"Only in regards to work. We haven't done any fun exciting things in a while. Like go on vacation."
"But you just said we should see Sally."
"I meant a vacation for just us two. An adult couple's getaway sort of thing."
"Oh. Well, did you have a specific place in mind?"
Squishy kicks up his little feet atop his desk and ponders. "You know, I haven't really thought of that…"
Meanwhile, thousands of light years away, the gleaming capital of the Republic that is Coruscant is experiencing its own dose of the doldrums. The millions of citizens mill about like zombies, and even drive around like zombies, following the set path of their daily routines with no thought whatsoever. No one looks up, smiles, giggles, or does anything remotely lively. And one long line of pedestrians certainly don't seem to care about marching off a ledge and into a massive meat grinder that makes them into sausages as a menacing guitar plays them to their doom. Yet why should they? All in all, they're just Bricks in The Wall.
Cooped up in their swank apartment, the darling couple of Will and Sara lay about, trying and failing to find some escape from their mind-numbing predicament.
"I'm so bored," Will sluggishly says from his sprawled position on the couch.
"You want to go somewhere?" Sara asks languidly from the kitchen counter, upon which she's draped over like a throw rug.
"Where do you wanna go?"
"I dunno. Somewhere."
Several dozen seconds pass with them just sitting collecting dust.
"You wanna call someone over?" Sara asks, not even raising a hair as she spoke.
"Who?"
"Someone."
"...Aight."
Will lifts an arm and reaches out for the holophone, and though it's clear across the room he doesn't bother lifting up anything other than his shoulder.
"Use the Force, dear."
Will follows his wife's advice and reaches out for the device, which flies off its holster and clatters along the floor halfway to him because that's honestly all the effort he put into that.
"D***it."
"You're gonna have to pick that up, Will."
"Yeah. Eventually."
The two sigh in despair and boredom, resigned to their fates.
Elsewhere in the great cityopolis, the military isn't faring any better against the inertness that plagues the planet. It's grossly apparent over at military HQ, where the Republic's most infamous general and his aid happen to be.
"Morale is at an all-time low, Sarge," reports the lanky Southerner Jennings.
"I'm fully aware of that, private," Chris grumps with a yawn. "It's been affecting me too. I was hardly a**ed enough to get my pants on this morning." Half-a**ed rather, as evidenced by his trailing pant leg.
"It's way worse than usual, sir. The men are dropping like flies from sheer boredom."
All around the maintenance bay they're in, crew and soldiers alike limp about or crumple over in lethargy. A few of them even drop from the upper catwalks, too numbed in spirit to worry about a messy landing.
"Even the,*yawn*, the Mega Man Boss Corps is finding it hard to stay motivated."
Indeed, as several of the colorful machine warriors mill about with vacant eyes. Bubble Man shuffles about half-powered down, not even bothering to notice the cargo truck landing on top of him. He explodes in Mega Man boss fashion, though with no victory music to accompany it.
Looking at the sorry state of his army, Chris yawns in disgust. "Something needs to be done, or this Republic is… is doomed. God I need some coffee or something."
A hospitality aid stumbles over holding a kettle of the bitter brew, only to trip and spill the contents all over the general's shaggy face. Even with boiling liquids scalding him, Chris makes no reaction other than, "You forgot the sugar."
He's then sugar-bombed by a different aid who's in the midst of a graceless fall from the rafters.
"Better."
Out on the humble but no less dullified planet of Corellia, the destructive duo that is former Sith Anna and mostly-agitated Copeland are hopelessly killing time in one of their many hideouts. Or killing flies in Anna's case, lazily shooting lightning from her fingertips at whatever pesky pest happens to fly in through the nearby window.
"Casually murdering these insects is doing nothing for my mood, Alex," she laments, zapping a butterfly. "Do something to entertain me."
"I cook your meals and clean your house, woman. I refuse to be your entertainer as well," Copeland groans from his spot hanging over the back of a chair.
"Normally I'd deck you for uttering such insolence to my face, but I'm frankly too out of it to get up from this chair." After thinking for a moment, she turns her eyes and finger toward the tall Jedi and fires off a speck of lightning, instantly jolting him into spasms that knock him right out of his seat. As he twitches on the floor, Anna sighs glumly. "Still nuthin'…"
The lawless sectors of space stifles with this monstrous malaise as well. On a dirtball of a planet somewhere between Kessel and Kashyyk, the local criminals and riff-raff really aren't in the plundering spirit, instead wasting away the day performing maintenance on their contraband spacecraft, jabbing each other depressingly with shivs, or wallowing away on drink and bittersweet memories. In one grimy cantina in the middle of a dusty outpost, a certain Jedi/occasional bounty hunter wallows especially hard at the bar. Not even his drink or his fantastic hair can lift his spirits, or his cheek from the countertop.
"You still owe me that tab, Jo," the barkeep drones, leaning on his beatin' broom.
"I'll pay it when I got me some bounties," Jo slurs, not even bothering to move his head.
"Why aren't you out getting bounties then?"
"No one's motivated to put any up."
"I'm gonna have to kick you out, then. Can't have ya leechin' my wares."
"Whatever."
The barkeep lacks the energy to do the deed himself, but luckily he has a handy button that summons a bouncer droid to do it for him. In under a minute Jo gets tossed out onto the sunbaked dirt road outside the cantina. Limbs asprawl and looking up into the yellow sky above, Jo simply huffs in lament.
"Bother…"
With our galactic heroes at their lowest point—some quite literally—a most miraculous occurrence occurs. From his earthen resting spot, Jo's skyward gaze catches sight of a glimmer, followed by another, and then several dozen more. A golden sheet of paper flutters down and lands on his face while more sheets descend upon the road and surrounding buildings. On Coruscant, citizens witness hundreds of gilded flyers rain down and into just about every building and establishment, including Will and Sara's apartment, and even outside military HQ. Two sheets blow into Anna and Copeland's hideout on a convenient breeze, and several dozen sheets have made their way into the ventilation system of Jawa Home.
Yes, throughout the Republic and without warning, thousands of golden flyers fall from the skies of many planets and spread across their respective surfaces (save the extremely hot ones: they burned up instantly). In cities, in streets, in river valleys and mountain ranges, land and sea, paper rained down like some freak meteorological event, which to be fair is rather common in this wacky galaxy. But what isn't common is how the minds of the people were stirred and, suddenly filled with curiosity rather than indolence, take to the outdoors to find out what the fates have given them.
And the exact contents of these golden sheets rouses the citizens into song, the likes of which have never before happened in the history of the fair Republic.
Citizen1: What are these pamphlets?
Citizen2: How they all come our way.
Citizen3: I find them quite pretty.
Citizen1: But what exactly do they say?
Citizen5: It appears to be an opening.
Citizen4: An invitation.
Citizen6: Made out to one and all.
Citizen7: It's sure some way to advertise.
Citizen2: Do you think it's for a ball?
Citizen4: Naw: it's for a casino, far off in space.
Citizen5: A fashionable den for sin and wealth.
Citizen1: But offers plenty entertainment galore.
Citizen3: To rejuvenate one's mental health.
Citizen1: I say, darling, we should give this place a look.
Citizen6: It sounds pretty interesting, that's true.
Citizen3: I can try my luck at gambling!
Citizen7: At least it's something for us schlubs to do.
Indeed, they're flyers announcing the grand opening of a far-off, ritzy casino station, complete with coordinates and coupons for various restaurants and entertainments on offer. Just like that, there's something for everyone to do! And none took to this with more earnestness, more endeavor, more jubilation, then our heroes of the Republic!
(Cut to Jo, who springs up onto his feet as a jaunty swing number plays)
Jo: Now here's something fresh and new
For this handsome guy to do.
A break from this abysmal rut,
To get on out and work my strut.
Some games of chance, a dip in the pool.
Perhaps even pick me up a gal or two. Look out!
(He yowls, running/tapping/snapping his way down the street as excited residents come pouring out in his wake. Cut over to Will and Sara who are up and pouring over the golden flyer.)
Sara: A hip new resort? Restaurants aplenty?
It's loaded up with every amenity.
Will, do you know what this means?
Will: Yep, and I do declare,
Both: We're getting ourselves straight on over there!
(Fly over to a positively thrilled Anna, in her thickest Broadway thug accent)
Anna: A brand new venture, all for the takin'.
(Zip over to an equally excited Squishy, though nowhere as gangster)
Squishy: It's been too long in the making!
Anna: So let's pack up and get on our way.
Squishy: We should fly on over there today!
(That's enough prerogative for everyone to rush for their nearest space port and/or private ship. Jo's dancing about through his own local space port)
Jo: Oh I've got this feeli~ng: it's left me reel~ing. It's a high I just can't ignore.
(Turn to Will and Sara packing)
Sara: It'll no doubt be thrill~ing.
Will: Lord be will~ing.
(Cut to Squishy)
Squishy: Just imagine what's in store, hee hee~!
(Now over to Anna heading for her ship with a concerned Copeland in tow)
Copeland: Don't ya think we're being a little rash?
Anna: Psah my man, nothing of the sort!
Copeland: Our finances aren't exactly fit for gambling.
Anna: It'll just be a little. You know, for sport.
Copeland: I just think we're courting trouble—
Anna: You keep whining and this fist you're gonna court!
(Copeland groans and falls in line. Meanwhile, Sylvia expresses her own misgivings as we cut back and forth among our heroes)
Sylvia: But honey this sort of thing is so abrupt,
Sara: Make sure to pack your toothbrush.
Sylvia: When we've even barely read the thing,
Jo: That's my clearance card, if you please.
Sylvia: I'm sure it's nice, but we really should consider,
Anna: Which of these boots makes me look fitter?
Sylvia: I mean, with all the work we need to do,
Will: Here's some trunks for the swimming pool,
Sylvia: Not to mention the next round of guests to come—
(Squishy leaps up and dances atop the desk to a blare of trumpets)
Squishy: I hear your concerns, my lady love;
They're not the sort to just shirk and shove.
Business is important, but it's not our place to dwell.
Taking breaks is what keeps us well.
For there'll be time for you, and time for me,
And time for our business family.
But just before this tourist rush,
Let's have fun between just the two of us.
C'mon, yaddya say?
(Sylvia considers during the lull in instrumentals, then nods)
Sylvia: Alright. But we'll need someone to look after the station.
Squishy: Ha Ha, that's my girl! (Claps excitedly) And I have just the man for the job.
(Out in the corridor, Sylvia's brother Steezy is walking by reading one of those fliers and stops when Squishy pokes his head out)
Squishy: Hey Steez my man, you're in charge of Jawa Home. See you in two days, pal. (Squishy pulls Sylvia along as Steezy goes rigid)
Steezy: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—
(With the band rising up again, we turn to Jo making final preparations for liftoff in his ship. As he's getting in the pilot's chair, he lets those vocals rip)
Jo: Gettin' myself excited, I just can't hold it!
(Over to Anna making her own flight preparations)
Anna: Gonna get off this ground lickety-split! (Takes off though Copeland hasn't been able to buckle up)
(Will and Sara rushing out of their apartment lugging luggage)
Sara: C'mon, Will, we're gonna miss our flight!
Will: It's a private ship so just be cool, alright?
(To Squishy and Sylvia making their departure)
Squishy: Long time relaxation, here we go!
Jo: Let's get on up and start the show! (Takes off)
At Republic Army Headquarters, a military aide runs into the hangar where Chris and Jennings are, waving a datapad in panic.
"General! Reports are coming in that most of the planet is leaving en masse, something about a new resort opening somewhere. People are flying everywhere, clogging trafficways and disrupting all military and emergency response channels. The entire police force has been overwhelmed. It's sheer pandemonium out there; what are we going to do?"
The air becomes heavy and tense as Chris contemplates this dire situation. After some agonizing seconds, he turns to reveal a straw hat, sunglasses, floral lei and massive smile adorning his head.
Chris: SHOOOOOOOOORELEEEEEEEEEAVE!
Entire Base: WA-HOOOOOOO!
Suddenly the entire base erupts into chaos as all personnel, including the Mega Man Bosses, begin to leap and gallop towards whatever exit they can find. The ones with flight capability blast off and launch for the stars in a marvelous synchronized formation of uncontainable joy that streaks across the sky like some speed-induced rainbow euphoria. In fact, that's pretty much the shared mood of everyone getting ready to enter hyper drive, their prows pointed at to one singular destination.
Everyone: We're on our way, we're on our way,
To the other end of the galax~ay!
There's good times ahead, we can't deny,
So don't let this fun pass on by!
It'll be great! (It'll be grand)
It'll be stupenderissimo!
New kicks, new thrills, new possibilities,
All await at this fine new Casin~OOOOOOOO!
CASINO NIGHTS
A Steve Warz Special Event!