All Bets Are Off - Chapter Two
"You had us, Janson," scoffed Lyrena Vitrk, "until you named the holo."
Wedge turned to look at the curly-haired leader of Green Squadron. She and her posse of pilots and techs were gathered in the mess hall for lunch, where Wes was detailing his idea to hold a holomovie night in the massive Hoth base hangar complete with traditional holoflick snacks and, of course, cocktails.
"I'd rather stay in and mend my socks than sit through Stag Night on Coruscant," groused communications specialist Evie Touvi. "Males seem to think that crap is funny, but most females hate it. And the Greens outnumber you by at least eight or nine votes."
"Told you Stag Night was a bad choice," Hobbie frowned at Janson.
"And don't even think about adding those ridiculous old 'Three Saps' shorts to whatever you show!" Lyrena added in a warning tone. "Why guys find them hilarious is beyond me." She turned to smile sweetly at Hobbie. "Please pass the sauce, Derek."
"Gods, those are the worst," technician Synja Quasik groaned and rolled her eyes. "So lame!"
Wedge caught the exasperated look that Wes angled at him across the table and, as the females at the table all hummed and murmured in agreement, Janson released a defeated-sounding puff of breath. "Okay, okay, Touvi. So what do you propose?"
"Anything with Whit Lacroy," Touvi sighed.
"Oh, yes! I'd watch him read the flight simulator handbook," Synja offered with a dramatic swoon. "He is kriffing gorgeous!"
Wedge groaned. "No way. His smarmy rom-coms are as much a non-starter for us as the 'Three Saps' are for you," he opined. "There's gotta be something that would make everybody happy."
"What's goin' on?"
Appearing over Wedge's shoulder from the commissary line, Han Solo plunked two trays of food onto the table and dropped down onto the bench across from Wedge.
"Wes wants to throw a holomovie night," Lyrena replied, scooting over to give Han room to sit. "You starving, Solo?" she gestured toward the two trays.
"One's for—." he didn't need to finish. Leia arrived, close on his heels, and set a tumbler of water first onto Han's tray and then her own.
"Good! Finally, a voice of reason," one of the other female pilots said, nodding to the princess. "Leia, we're putting together a holomovie night…."
"We're—?" Wes groused. "There's no we. The Rogues are putting it together, not Green Squadron."
"For goddess' sake, Wes, you know you can't pull this off without help. Without us," Vitryk waved a hand toward her all-female crew, "there'd be booze and nothing else."
"She has a point," Hobbie acknowledged wryly.
"So, Leia," Lyrena continued, "These primitive beings want to show Stag Night on Coruscant."
"That's a funny one," Han chimed in, popping a veggie chip into his mouth.
"Of course you'd think so, Nerfherder," Leia replied, punctuating her opinion with an elbow to his ribs.
"See, that's the problem," Wedge started to explain, watching as Leia casually moved the pickled paricha root from her plate onto Han's, and the Falcon's captain shook veggie chips from his bag onto Leia's dish. "We need to come up with something that appeals to everyone."
"This could be fun," Luke offered enthusiastically. "How about a musical that everybody knows? We can all sing along!"
Wes fixed Skywalker with a cold, hard stare. "You are embarrassing your Squad members, Commander."
"What?" Luke exclaimed. "Who doesn't like The Wizard of Oliu?"
"Janson has a point, Kid," Han rumbled, wincing. "People bustin' out singin' and dancin' in the middle of an asteroid field? C'mon!" He frowned, and then looked down the table at Derek. "Hey, Hobbie, pass the sauce."
"How 'bout a horror movie?" Hobbie threw out, handing the bottle of red sauce to Solo. "Something like Galactic Spiders: Giant Webs of Terror."
"Ooooh, that might be too scary for some," Leia said with a sly grin.
Wedge caught her furtive, teasing glance at Solo, heard his mumbled, but amused retort—smartass—and watched as Leia, stifling a smile, swayed slightly in her seat. Utterly fascinated by the new dynamic between them, Wedge realized that Solo must have nudged the princess' knee with his own under the table, and Wedge now found his attention riveted to them, agog at their unusual interactions. Ordinarily, a goad like that from the princess, followed by Solo's immediate retort, would have comprised the opening salvos to an extended battle that would have escalated until one or the other of them stormed off. Not…whatever this was.
Synja ticked off her thoughts. "No war stories. No sappy romance. No frat-boy nonsense. How about just good old-fashioned good guy versus bad guy adventurous fun?"
"And it has to have a happy ending," Evie adamantly voiced.
"I've got it," Luke exclaimed. "Marauders of the Ancient Crypt!"
"Good one, Skywalker!" Synja cooed.
Similar sounds of agreement rose from around the table, indicating a general consensus. Wedge looked on as Wes started chatting with Synja and Evie, assigning tasks that would bring the event together, and then leaned across the table in Solo's direction. "Hey, Han…."
Wedge lowered his gaze, snagged the last veggie chip from his plate, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, staring down at his now-empty tray, still pondering the seismic shift in dynamic unfolding across the table—when he felt Wes gave his shin a solid kick.
His head shot up, and he angled his head to glare at his friend. "Hey!" he blurted. "What the—."
Wes gave a quick jerk of his head at Solo and the princess. Wedge followed Janson's gaze to find his fellow Corellian's attention was focused on Leia who sat with her body angled toward him, her hand resting lightly on his sleeve.
"You've got sauce," he heard Leia murmur to Solo. The tip of her tongue wiggled at the corner of her mouth. "Right there."
Janson elbowed Wedge and snickered, but Wedge couldn't tear himself away. Han was mimicking Leia's motion now, sweeping at the wrong side of his mouth with his tongue.
"No," Leia repeated the action, this time with a swipe with her finger, "other side."
Han finally licked at the right spot, "Got it?"
Leia nodded casually, and then took a bite of her sandwich, tuning back to the table conversation.
"Solo," Janson called out again, this time gaining the Corellian's attention. "You think you can find a copy of Marauders for us when you're out on a run? And, maybe some holoflick munchies?"
"Shouldn't be too hard," Han shrugged, turning his attention back to his food. "Must be a million copies out there. I'll put Chewie on snack duty. The Wook can track down grub during meteor showers."
"Great!" Janson crowed. "We'll set a date as soon as Han secures the flick. Finally, something to do around here besides freeze our asses off!"