All Bets Are Off - Chapter Six
"Oh look, there he is now. Hey, Threepio," Janson called. "Tech droids all set to hang the holoscreen for tomorrow night?"
Wedge looked up to see C-3PO scurrying through the hangar as quickly as his gold-jointed legs would allow, a flat parcel cradled in his stiff metallic grasp. Wedge watched as the droid turned his unwavering gaze to him and Wes, but didn't slow his pace.
"Yes, yes. It is all arranged according to the plan you provided," Threepio declared as the two Rogues fell into step with him. Now, if you please, sirs, I must deliver Princess Leia's clothing to her on the Millennium Falcon. She will be late for a meeting because of the impossible behavior of Captain Solo and his dysfunctional equipment."
Wes snorted a laugh as they walked along. "I bet Han wouldn't like to hear you call his equipment dysfunctional."
Wedge snickered. "What happened, Threepio?" he asked, and then added with feigned sincerity, "Can we help?" He wanted to give the droid the impression they cared, and not that they simply wanted to know why Leia needed clothes brought to the Falcon, and what "dysfunction" was the cause.
"Thank you, Commander Antilles, for your generous offer of assistance. But I believe I am quite capable of fulfilling this task." He gave his best droid version of a scoff. "If Captain Solo had not fallen asleep before he attended to the Princess' needs, this assignment would not have been required."
"Never figured Solo for a guy who couldn't take care of the Princess' needs," Wes hooted.
Wedge held back a chuff of laughter. "And why does the Princess need a change of clothes?" he managed in an even tone.
"Because of Captain Solo," Threepio intoned, his disdain for the Corellian evident in his emphasis on Han's name. "Somehow, he managed to soil Her Highness' garments, and then failed to restore them properly, because his ship's autovalet proved to be as faulty as the rest of his haphazardly engineered vessel! The Princess was forced to shower aboard his ancient starship to remove the evidence of her unfortunate experience, and she was unaware that her clothing remained befouled. Now, she requires a full complement of fresh clothing. And what is Captain Solo doing? Why, he is slumbering!" Threepio shook his stiffly-jointed head as he walked, servomotors whirring. "Impossible man. And, of course, I am called upon to save the day once more."
As he finished his tirade, the trio arrived at the Falcon. The droid uttered a farewell to the Rogues as he scurried up the boarding ramp.
"Huh." Wes gave a grunt as he and Wedge turned and strolled back across the hangar to their ships. "There's a story there, friend."
"I'll bet," Wedge acknowledged. "But probably not what your depraved mind is thinking."
Still, Wedge was curious. He mulled over what it could be, his brain whirring with scenarios ranging from the plausible to the unlikely, and then gave up. It was pointless trying to figure it out on his own, and there was no need for that—not when there was someone who could always be counted on to get the straight scoop.
He parted ways with Janson in the Rogue's section of the hangar, and as the Tanaaban trotted off toward his ship, Wedge pulled his comlink from his pocket and hailed Luke.