Title: Back Together (4 of 6)
Characters: Wes, Hobbie, Jag, Tahiri
Summary: It's Ben Skywalker's birthday party. And it's Jag and Tahiri's turn to help Wes and Hobbie...? Oh noes...
Notes: This is the part that originally had the Worst Continuity Error OMGEVAR (TM), but it has been re-written so I don't cringe every time I even glance at this story. It's still not brilliant, but all in all, I guess this part's OK. I think it also started off my obsession with crack!ships. Wyn/Valin!
Words: 5662

Hobbie yawned and ran a hand through his blond hair, blinking at his face in the mirror. The door was buzzing insistently at him, but he was pretty sure it was just Wes, and so was ignoring it. If it wasn't, well, no harm done, right? Though he suspected that not many other people pushed door buzzers in the same rhythm as 'I'm A Little Ewok.'

With a sigh, he left the refresher and made his way through the cluttered living room to the apartment's door. He paused there for a moment, listening curiously - along with the door buzzer, there was a faint voice, singing something that Hobbie could just about hear.

". . . short and stout," it hummed. "Got my spear and ready to scout. Run through the forest, climb all the trees; making lots of friends with ease." There was a brief pause, for both the door buzzer and the voice, then it started again. "I'm a little Ewok. . ."

Hobbie shook his head, but couldn't help snickering softly. When he felt he could keep the amused smile from his face, he keyed the door open and leaned against the jamb. "Janson," he said, trying to sound irritated; it wasn't very hard. "What a surprise."

Wes brought his hand away from the door buzzer and back to his side, grinning. "Hobbie! No, haven't been waiting here long, just twenty minutes or so, you lazy Sithspawn."

"I might have been away," Hobbie pointed out. "Gone somewhere."

Wes raised an eyebrow. "At nine in the morning, on your day off? Yeah, right, of course."

Hobbie closed his eyes, just longer than a blink, then opened them again and glared at Wes. "If you know it's my day off, then why are you here at nine?"

"Plan," Wes said simply, pushing past Hobbie to enter the living room. He glanced round, then sat on the couch, leaning back comfortably.

Hobbie was getting quite used to instances like these. Over the past two years, there had been quite a lot of 'plans', of pranks - successful and otherwise - played on Kyp and Jaina, on Jag and Tahiri. But just because it happened often didn't mean he had to like it.

He sighed and pushed himself away from his leaning spot, letting the door slide shut behind him as he joined Wes on the couch. "What are we planning this time?" He winced: every time he said 'we', it was like admitting he was as guilty of the pranks as Wes. Which he wasn't, of course. At all.

Wes shifted and swung his legs up on the couch, letting them rest half on the opposite arm of the couch, half on top of Hobbie. He lay back, leaning his head on his hands against the edge, and closed his eyes. "Skycrawler's birthday party's today, and we're both invited. Han and Wedge are organising it, so it would be a crime for us to allow it to go exactly to their plans."

Hobbie frowned at the ease with which Wes had taken over his couch, and pushed him. With a shocked yelp, he hit the floor with a thud, landing in a scruffy heap. Hobbie grinned. "What about revenge on Kyp and Jaina? Messing with our lunch the other day wasn't very nice-"

"That's the fun of it, Hobbie," Wes interrupted cheerfully, scrambling to his feet and returning to the couch - this time, sitting. "We get to make the kid's party more fun and get our own back on Kyp and Jaina! Efficiency is our friend this time."

"Shouldn't efficiency always be our friend?"

"Ssh. Now, we have six hours before the party's due to start, which might be enough time to sort everything out. . ."

Hobbie sighed again. It might well be enough time, but even if it was, he just knew it wasn't going to go exactly to plan. Nothing ever did anymore - the kids were getting better at outsmarting Wes. "Do we have to do this, Wes? Isn't it about time we gave the kids a break?"

Wes stared at him blankly, then shook his head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that blasphemous suggestion, Hobbie. Now, come on. I'm thinking we need fake snacks, some foul-tasting beverage, and paint - lots and lots of paint."

Hobbie blinked. Paint. Why did these plans always involve paint? "Wes, do we-?"

Wes scowled. "If you ask that again I'm going to hit you. Now," he continued, his grin returning. "Let's get started."

Jag stared at the man standing in his doorway for a moment, then turned towards the living room. "Did you hear what he just asked us?" he called to Tahiri.

Tahiri poked her head out of the living room and shook it, studying him curiously. "No, what? And who?" she added.

Jag stepped a little to the side - just enough for Tahiri to see Wes and Hobbie standing in the corridor just outside the apartment, but not enough to let either of them enter. "He asked us to help them. With a prank. At Ben Skywalker's birthday."

Wes grinned and nodded at Tahiri. "It's going to be classic. And it's not just for Skycrawler's party," he continued, trying nonchalantly to edge his way into the apartment. Jag stepped sideways and blocked his way again. "I mean, I know you want to get back at Kyp and Jaina, right?"

Tahiri thought about that for a moment. "Well," she mused, "we never did get back at them for the Chancer a couple years ago. Or for locking us out of our own apartment last week," she added, frowning.

Jag looked at Wes sharply. "You're going to prank Kyp and Jaina? Today? At Ben's party?"

Wes glanced at him, an amused smile creeping across his face, a smile that irritated Jag. "Yes, yes we are. Why?"

"Nope," Jag told him, shaking his head. "Can't let you do that. Not today."

He didn't realise how quickly he had rejected Wes's idea, how abrupt it had sounded, until he glanced round to find everyone staring at him: Hobbie was frowning thoughtfully, Wes looked annoyed, and Tahiri was studying him curiously. He cleared his throat. "What?" he asked, trying to appear casual.

"Not that I want them to do it," Tahiri started, "but what's so bad about letting them play a prank on Kyp and Jaina today?"

"Well, it. . ." How was he going to cover for this? He couldn't tell them, because then they'd ruin the surprise. No, he'd have to make something up, and he'd have to do it quickly. "Well, they already owe us for the prank they played on us a couple weeks ago," he said quickly, indicating Wes and Hobbie. "We can't help them until we get revenge on them for that."

"Actually," Hobbie interrupted, "that one was Jaina's fault. She was the one who reprogrammed your ship."

"And I think you'll find that I never did get back at you for painting all the Yellow Aces' fighters blue," Wes added, staring pointedly at Jag. Jag stared back, knowing perfectly well that Wes was used to people painting the Aces' fighters. "I'll let you have that one as your engagement present, but only if you help us with this."

Jag couldn't help a soft smile at the reminder of his and Tahiri's engagement, and he glanced back to find Tahiri grinning. "Well..." No, he couldn't let them play a prank on Kyp and Jaina today. Any other day; not today. Unless... "OK," he conceded, nodding slowly. "We'll help."

"Great!" Wes grinned, and Hobbie sighed. "You won't regret it."

Nope - if he could twist this round successfully, Jag was pretty sure he wouldn't regret it at all.

Big. That was the only word Hobbie could think of to describe the hall in which Ben Skywalker's sixth birthday party was being held. Big, and crowded.

He looked round the groups of people again, but he hardly recognised anyone. It seemed as though Han and Wedge had invited half the galaxy - he guessed, if the expressions on Luke and Mara's faces were anything to by, the party was originally supposed to be a small celebration. But if you asked Han Solo to organise a party, well...he'd picked up more than just social skills from his wife, that was for sure.

Wes grinned and shifted the holdall he was carrying on his shoulder, bringing it round so he could reach into it easily. Hobbie stared at it suspiciously. Wes had insisted, after borrowing the bag from Tahiri, upon packing it himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what Wes had brought to the party.

Hobbie's attention shifted to Jag as the younger man caught up with them, bringing his arm up to pull Tahiri in to his side. "Where were you?" he asked Jag, curious.

"Hm? Oh...nowhere. So," he continued quickly, glancing round the hall. "What are you doing first?"

"What are we doing first," Wes corrected him. He raked through the bag quickly and pulled out a transparent plasteel container, full of - from what Hobbie could see - additional party snacks. He gave it to Jag. "Your first job is to distribute these. Just...mix them up with the regular snacks over there." Wes pointed at the right side of the hall, where a long table was set up with various dishes and plates of snacks laid out. After a moment, he also pulled a bottle out of the bag and handed it to Tahiri. "And, you know...spike the punch."

Hobbie noted the bottle contents with a grimace. It wasn't an alcoholic drink, since it was only Ben's sixth birthday - not that Wes was explicitly against underage drinking; he just didn't want to waste good alcohol on a six-year-old - but it was something that tasted infinitely worse. Especially when mixed with fruit-flavoured punch. Sane people just didn't add Tatooine berry water to drinks. In fact, sane people wouldn't drink it at all - there was nothing appetising about the berries you found on Tatooine, even if you were out in the desert with nothing else to eat or drink.

When the couple had nodded and disappeared in the direction of the buffet table, Hobbie turned to Wes and awaited his own instructions. There was a long pause - Wes seemed to be taking a moment to study everyone in the hall. Hobbie followed his gaze.

Over in the far left corner was a table set up with an old-style sound system, controlled by - Hobbie squinted - Valin Horn. The young Jedi seemed engrossed in his job as DJ, and Hobbie shook his head. Han and Wedge organising a party, Valin Horn as a DJ...what next? Kell Tainer organising the children's party games? Baron Fel - Baron Fel actually being invited to a party planned by Han and Wedge? If anything remotely as crazy as either of those was to happen, Hobbie knew he would be going insane.

"All right, kiddies," a voice shouted over the sound system, interrupting the bouncy music. "Time for a game of pin the ears on the gundark! All you kids get over to this side of the hall and we'll start."

Hobbie closed his eyes. No. No, that hadn't been Kell's voice. It absolutely had not been Kell's voice.

Who was he kidding? He was already insane from hanging around Wes for so long. Or maybe for hanging around Wes for so long in the first place. These prepositions were confusing.

"Games!" Wes cried excitedly, nudging Hobbie's shoulder. "Come on, let's join in before we start our part of the prank."

Hobbie opened his eyes and stared at Wes, ignoring the small children who crashed into him as they ran towards Kell and the corner of the hall. "Are you kidding me? Wes, the games are for children. Physical children, not people with the mental age of a child," he added.

"So?" Wes grinned. "It'll be fun! I haven't played party games in so long..."

Hobbie sighed. "I'm not playing pin the ears on the gundark at Ben Skywalker's birthday party," he told Wes firmly. "Or anyone else's birthday party, for that matter."

"Pfft...you're such a spoil sport. All right." He glanced round the hall one last time, then turned back to Hobbie. "We'll start our part," he said, pulling two cans of neon green spray paint out of the holdall, and handing one to Hobbie.

Hobbie held it up and studied it for a second. "I dread to ask what we're going to do with these."

Grinning, Wes made sure the rest of the paint was safely stored in the bag, and zipped it up. He found the nearest empty table, stashed the holdall under it and tucked the chairs in around it. Once it was well-hidden, he turned back to his friend. "Come on. Out there," he told him, waving a hand to indicate something outside the open doors.

Hobbie squinted as he looked through the doors and out into the street. Directly opposite the party venue was a large, stark grey building, a building Hobbie knew belonged to the Security and Interplanetary Logistics Liaison Yearly Accountants - the last word of which had foiled many of Wes's drunken attempts to make fun of the local government. "And, uh...what are we doing there?" He knew, if he hadn't asked, that Wes would have told him eventually anyway.

Wes grinned again and held up his own spray can. "Just a little birthday message for Bennie," he answered, his attempt at innocence failing miserably.

"On the side of a government building."

"Yes."

"The side of a government building which has a security force with a total sense of humour deficiency."

"Yes."

Hobbie nodded. "All right, just wanted to make sure we were both clear on that point."

"We are. Let's go." And Wes did so. Hobbie followed close behind, trying very hard not to get a bad feeling about this.

It didn't work.

Jag, having distributed the foam and plasteel party snacks amongst the real ones, was leaning against the buffet table and gazing out into the hall. Most of the children were at the far side, playing games with Kell and Face, while the adults - and the children who felt they were far too old for party games - crowded onto the dance floor in the middle of the room. The music Valin was playing was loud, and ruined any hope of eavesdropping on people's conversations, but Jag was content to simply watch for now.

He saw Tahiri approach out of the corner of his eye, and smiled softly. As she stopped beside him, he reached out an arm to hug her sideways, and she leaned against him. "Did you spike the punch?" Jag grimaced. He hated saying that. It sounded so juvenile. Well, it was juvenile.

Tahiri grinned up at him. "Yeah, done." She held up the empty bottle, then placed it on the table behind her and wrapped her arms around him. "That's it for us, isn't it?"

Jag shook his head. "We have to keep a close eye on Wes and Hobbie... We can not let them ruin anything for Kyp and Jaina today."

Tahiri frowned thoughtfully and looked up at him, her green eyes searching his. "Why? What's so bad about it today? You never did say earlier."

Jag hesitated. Could he tell her? What if she told Jaina? No, she wouldn't do that. . . But Kyp had made him swear not to tell anyone. . . "You'll find out soon enough," he told her instead. "Just trust me on this."

After another moment of studing him carefully, Tahiri shrugged and smiled. "All right, I'll trust you. I suppose it must be fairly important, then."

"Yeah..." Jag nodded and turned his gaze back to the dance floor. He could see, somewhere on the far side the hall, Kyp and Jaina dancing together in time with the music. He made a mental note of their current position, determined to keep Wes and Hobbie as far away from there as possible. Moving on, he saw Han and Leia, his sister Wyn, Luke and-

His sister?

Jag's arm slipped from Tahiri's shoulders as he stared back out to the dance floor, stunned. Yes, his sister was definitely there, talking to Valin Horn beside the sound system and giggling in a way that - for some reason - made him want to hit Valin. But how was Wyn here? He hadn't known she would be. But if she was here, then that meant his parents were, too. His parents were here, and they hadn't even told him.

"Um, Tahiri...wait here a second..."

Tahiri rolled her eyes and followed him as he made his way through the crowd towards Wyn. "Right, of course. Where are we going?"

He glanced sideways at her and smiled. "All right, come with me." He looked round again. "I saw my sister. . . My parents must be here, too."

"There?"

Jag stopped and looked in the direction Tahiri was pointing. Yes, there - his father was at the other end of the buffet table, a few metres from it, talking to his uncle. His mother was standing just to the side, watching both of them, an amused smirk on her face. As Jag and Tahiri approached them, they heard why.

". . . can't believe you told them that lie-"

"What are you talking about, Fel?" Wedge's confusion was tinged with amusement. "I didn't tell your son and his fiancee any lies-"

"Yes, you- fiancee!"

"Jag," Tahiri hissed, pulling him to a stop a few metres from the argument. "You did tell your parents about us, didn't you?"

Jag thought back to the last time he'd seen his parents. It had been a year ago... Tahiri had been with him - they'd decided to take a trip to Csilla together...so they knew he and Tahiri were together. But his last comm call... Let's see, that was maybe...two weeks ago... "No," he admitted. "Not as such, no. I haven't spoken to them since then," he explained quickly.

"Force, Jag..." Tahiri sighed. "Too late now. Let's go speak to them-"

"No, wait, I want to hear what they're arguing about." Jag grabbed Tahiri's hand to stop her interrupting the argument, and she looked back at him, an eyebrow raised.

"They're getting married?" his mother interrupted, a wide smile on her face. "That's wonderful!"

"Yes, but...no, but...now wait a second..." His father seemed flustered, having lost control of the argument so suddenly. "Yes, yes, it's great, but - Antilles - you told them-"

"I didn't tell them anything," Wedge cut him off. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"The Ewok pilot-"

Jag couldn't help but snicker at that. Oh yes. That had been an amusing conversation last year. Tahiri had brought it up casually at dinner, halfway through their visit, and it was the first time Jag remembered his father actually being flustered. "A lie," he had assured them. "An Ewok pilot? That's ridiculous."

His mother had frowned thoughtfully. "I'm sure I remember Wedge telling me something like that...something about Tetran Cowell..."

"I saw a show on the Holonet," Wyn had told them suddenly, "about a shuttle co-pilot in the Corellian system, and he was an Ewok, and--"

"Have you been watching Holonet trash again, young lady?" Jag's father had interrupted sternly. "I thought I told you..."

And the conversation had meandered off, turning into a discussion about the Fel children's awful habits. Tahiri had grinned the whole way through, ignoring Jag's sighs as she contributed to the discussion whole-heartedly.

Now it was Wedge's turn to grin and, glimpsing Jag and Tahiri out of the corner of his eye, he winked at them. "You mean Kettch? Now, how do you know he has anything to do with me whatsoever? I've heard of him, of course, but I can safely say that I would be the last to tell anyone else about him."

Jag's father narrowed his eyes and glared at his brother-in-law, but Wedge wasn't going to waver. A moment passed before he turned away and, eyes widening again, caught sight of Jag and Tahiri. "Jagged," he said, trying to force cheer into his voice to cover up for his loss in the argument. The fact that his voice was never cheery to begin with didn't seem to bother him. "And Miss Veila. Syal and I were just looking for you both..."

Jag nodded. "A pleasant surprise to see you here, Father...I believe you've heard our news?"

"I'm most put out that you didn't tell me yourself."

Jag met his stern gaze evenly. "And I'm most put out that you didn't bother telling me you would be here."

"Yes, well..."

"I'll be going," Wedge interrupted suddenly. "Things to do, people to see. Pranksters to catch," he added, nodding towards an abandoned plate of foam snacks beside him on the table. He hugged his sister quickly, then left before anyone could start another argument with him.

Jag let Tahiri handle the conversation with his parents and allowed his attention to wander for a moment. Wyn was still talking to Valin - the young Jedi seemed to be showing her how the sound system worked. He still felt that strange urge to hit the boy... Kyp and Jaina, though, had moved closer to this side of the hall. In fact, they were only a few metres away, at the edge of the crowd closest to the buffet table. Jag frowned. They were more clearly visible now...and, he realised when he looked round again, Wes and Hobbie were already back. This was going to take some tricky maneuvering to pull off, especially since he wasn't entirely sure what the pranksters were planning. But he could do it.

"I'll be back soon," he murmured to Tahiri, making his way towards the hall's entrance, and Wes and Hobbie.

He could do it.

Hobbie glanced sideways at Wes as they strolled nonchalantly across the dance floor and sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Wes was carrying a can of paint - orange paint. He was cradling it in his hands, being careful not to let any of it spill out. He had opened it back at the table his holdall was hidden under, explaining that it would be a lot quicker and would allow them to make a faster getaway.

Things that required them to make a fast getaway were generally bad, Hobbie mused.

The plan for this last prank of the day was fairly simple, Wes had explained moments earlier. The first part involved locating Kyp and Jaina: the couple were dancing at the edge of the crowd, near the buffet table, with a fair amount of space surrounding them. The second part would be to position themselves in a suitable location in the crowd - near enough to Kyp and Jaina that the paint would be on target, but far enough away that they wouldn't be able to tell who had thrown it. The third part was to throw the paint and then run away before anyone caught them.

The third part would cause the most problems, undoubtedly.

"Hey, look." Wes nudged Hobbie in the shoulder, then realised that it wasn't a great thing to be doing when holding a full and open can of paint. He glanced down and let out a sigh of relief when he saw that no paint had spilled out onto the floor - or his shoes. "It's Jag," he continued. "What's he doing?"

Hobbie watched Jag for a moment, then shrugged. "He seems to be heading this way."

"Why?" Wes had stopped now, about ten metres away from Kyp and Jaina. Jag was still moving towards them, and he whispered something to Kyp as he passed the couple.

"I don't know, let me just use my amazing Force powers to read his mind and find out." Hobbie pretended to concentrate for a moment, ignoring Wes's glare. "Oh, wait, that's right," he said after a few seconds. "I don't have any. I guess we'll have to wait until he reaches us."

"Hey," Jag greeted them quietly as he approached. He took a moment to study the two of them, then nodded at the paint can. "I'll take care of this part if you want."

Hobbie caught Wes's glance and shrugged. "All right."

"Wait, why?" Wes asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Jag smiled faintly, reassuringly. "Well, you're right, Tahiri and I owe you one. So if I take care of this part of the prank, then you can't get the blame for it, and we can call it quits. Right?"

As Wes nodded, Hobbie's own suspicions grew. "So you'll throw paint on Kyp and Jaina."

Jag nodded.

"Even though you said earlier that we couldn't play a prank on them."

Jag waved a hand dismissively. "That was earlier. I realise now that this is the best opportunity to play a prank on them, ever. Who could pass that up?"

"All right, Fel," Wes agreed. He handed the paint can over to Jag. "You have yourself a deal."

Jag flashed a rare grin. "Great."

"Remember," Wes added, "we had no part in this."

Jag nodded slowly, deliberately. "Of course, no part. You two just make yourselves comfortable by the table. Act casual, and no one will even notice you."

As he walked away, Hobbie's suspicion and his sense of dread grew stronger. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Wes?"

"Pfft." Wes shrugged and waved Hobbie over to the buffet table, picking a spot a few metres from Kyp and Jaina - prime viewing position. "I don't know why I didn't think of it myself. He's right: this way, we can't get blamed. We're just innocent bystanders." He winked at Hobbie and helped himself to some food - checking it was real before taking a bite.

"Hmm. . ." Hobbie couldn't help but be a little wary, still. His gaze followed Jag as the young man found a suitable spot, halfway between themselves and Kyp and Jaina. He supposed Wes had a point - it would be much easier to deny any part in it if they actually didn't have any part in it. . .

Suddenly, the music softened into a quiet ballad and the lights dimmed. Hobbie frowned and looked up in the direction of the sound system, where the lights were also controlled from. As a single beam of light brightened and focused on something near the buffet table, Hobbie thought he saw a grinning Han Solo standing next to Valin, controlling the light switches. His gaze was drawn to where the light landed, and his dread doubled and landed in his stomach.

It was on Kyp and Jaina.

"Perfect!" Wes hissed from beside him.

Hobbie didn't think it was, somehow. He especially didn't think it was perfect when, a second later, Kyp got down on one knee.

"Come on, Jag," Wes was whispering excitedly. "Throw the paint now!"

The chatter of the crowd quietened. Hobbie saw Kyp hesitate and glance over at Han, a slightly disbelieving look on his face. Then the younger man shook his head and looked back up at Jaina, whose eyes were wide. "Jaina," he started slowly, then stopped and swallowed. Despite the seriousness of the moment, Hobbie was faintly amused - this was the only time he had ever seen Kyp Durron nervous.

"You're my best friend in the galaxy," Kyp continued. "I love you with everything I am, and I wish - I hope you'll make me the luckiest man in the galaxy." He hesitated again. "What I mean is. . . Jaina Solo - would you marry me?"

The hall was absolutely silent. Hobbie had never known any of the party guests could actually be silent, but every single one of them had just proven him wrong. Obviously, they had all heard Kyp - he supposed that had been Han's intention.

A second of this silence passed, and then a grin spread across Jaina's face slowly. "Yes!" she answered happily. "Of course I will. I love you."

Just before the crowd started cheering, Wes hissed, "Now!" again, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear him. Hobbie - and everyone close by - turned to stare at him in disbelief.

"Wes, you are-"

Hobbie stopped suddenly; not because anyone interrupted him, not because the music started again - but because a canful of orange paint splattered over the two of them.

He blinked, twice. The crowd had quietened down once again, and everyone in the hall was staring at them. Hobbie stared back, and glanced at Wes. Wes stood frozen, orange paint trickling from his dark hair and down his face, soaking into his civilian clothes. The crowd's laughter seemed to wake him up, and he spun round to glare at Hobbie. A few milliseconds passed before he realised Hobbie was also covered in paint, and therefore unlikely to be responsible. Then he turned his gaze to the crowd, picking out the culprit instantly.

Hobbie followed Wes's glare to find Jag standing in the same location as before, holding the now-empty can of paint and grinning triumphantly. He gave them a quick mock-salute, shouted a "Yub yub!" at them and turned, running towards the nearest exit at top speed.

Hobbie could do nothing but blink.

A few hours later, the party was drawing to a close. Wes and Hobbie had made use of the building's limited refresher facilities to wash the paint off their faces and out of their hair, but their clothes were definitely ruined. Still, Wes was cheerful once again, assuring people that the whole thing had been staged and that no, someone had not just pulled a successful prank on Wes Janson. Some of the guests believed him; all the others knew at least one Wraith.

Ben Skywalker had come to them, almost bouncing off the walls with excitement, thanking them for "the bestest most funnest present I got!"

Mara, when she came to retrieve him, had been far less amused. "If you do something like this again, or even think of encouraging my son to do so, then. . ." She had trailed off, apparently remembering that threats weren't part of the Jedi Code, and settled for glaring at both of them as she pulled Ben away.

Kyp and Jaina had simply avoided them, but Tahiri had told Wes and Hobbie, when she'd come over to speak to them, that neither of them were particularly happy about the whole thing. Hobbie didn't suppose they would be; he'd be unhappy too if someone had ruined his marriage proposal with a prank. A voice in his head felt like pointing out that Kyp had drawn attention away from Ben's birthday in the first place, but he ignored it.

But the party was now over, and cleaning droids were ushering people out of the hall, insisting on getting to work right away. The crowd spilled out into the street, laughing and chatting to each other, milling around while waiting for friends and companions to accompany them home. Wes and Hobbie slowly made their way down the stairs from the building's entrance to the crowded street, freezing as Ben's voice cried out above the crowd cheerfully.

"Look, Mommy! On that wall! It's got Ben's name on it!"

Wes grinned at Hobbie and he sighed as he looked up, reading their spray-painted message once again. 'Sorry you're a year older, Ben,' it read. 'Unfortunately, old age comes to everyone.' That was all they'd managed to put - the paint had run out after that. Hobbie thought it was a bad enough sign that Wes even had bright green spray paint, never mind that he'd used most of it. He really should try to be less surprised at things like that in future, he realised.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a sharp voice from somewhere in the street addressed Mara. "Was this you?"

Mara's voice, when she answered, was colder than a winter's day on Hoth. "I think not, officer. You might want to try the double act up there."

The crowd parted slowly, allowing Wes and Hobbie a clear view of the security team in the middle of the street - and allowing the security team to see them. Wes and Hobbie stared at them for a second, and they stared right back, taking in the friends' paint-stained clothes and the holdall Wes carried - which, Hobbie realised too late, was open, the empty cans of spray paint clearly visible.

Hobbie turned to Wes and looked at him, not bothering to glare. "Today," he began in a tired voice, "has been a very bad day, and now it's about to get worse."

The security officers were at the top of the stairs now, and started leading the two of them back down to the street and the airspeeder there. "You're under arrest for vandalism," the officer told them grimly. "Anything you say can and will be used as evidence in your prosecution."

"Prosecution? For spray painting a message?" Hobbie shook his head in disbelief.

"What if we say it wasn't us?" Wes offered. "Can that be used against us?"

"Wait, wait," Hobbie warned him. "It might. I told you they had no sense of humour, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but when did I start listening to you?" Wes shrugged and grinned. "So we're being arrested. No big deal. Wedge'll bail us out. Besides, you know what?"

Hobbie sighed as they were bundled into the speeder, the crowd's cheering fading to a dull roar as the door slid shut behind them. "What?"

"It was still astral."

Hobbie stared at him, blinked, then closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat with a thud. "Of course," he murmured. "Astral."