Chapter 7AE

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'Droid and Master Bonding PT 2'

['Don't be too proud of this technological terror you've
constructed' - D.V.]

'Criminal Intent'

'Jumpin' Jiminy!'

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Still trying to play dead, the Dark Lord is about to hear the travails of his eldest daughter. Death has not come to rescue him. He braces himself.

Narrator:

'In the Core Worlds System, the people are represented by two separated yet equally dysfunctional groups, the kids who rehash stories about crimes of the heart and the parents who must listen to their whining. These are their stories':

(Gavel sound)

Location: Coruscant Middle City Park

A married couple strolls hand in hand along the Galaxies Great Mall. He carries a picnic basket in his other hand. Ch'hala trees line the path of the beautiful park. It is a bright sunny day. Birds chirp and children play tag on the lawn, some whizzing by on their surfer gliders. Friends greet one another at the famous monument of the arts commissioned by Romeo Treblanc.

The husband hears a voice from his past and nervously tries to hurry along.

"Hey, let's go this way. There's a live performance by the Galaxies Players at the band shell."

He tugs his wife by the arm. She does not understand the urgency.

"Okay…easy, Han. Since when did you start liking performance art?"

"The performers are entertaining…in their own way."

Someone is desperately trying to get his attention. The person is calling and waving their hands in the crowd of people who are also carrying picnic baskets.

"Pudgy! Pudgy!"

His wife furrows her eyebrows bemused by the name.

"Who in the world is Pudgy? They have to hear that; she's screaming loud enough."

"I don't know."

The caller shouts again and growing louder and closer.

"Indy! Indy! Hey you scoundrel don't walk away while I'm calling you!"

His wife Leia turns to her husband with a suspicious gaze. Han rolls his eyes after trying to play dumb. He releases a long sigh before turning in the direction of the person calling him. He is now face-to-face with his greeter. Leia watches with guarded curiosity. She is a lovely woman with chestnut hair, sparkling eyes, and a smile that reveals a fun personality. The freckles on her face make her appear younger than her actual age, a few years older than Leia. The woman approaches them with a slight swagger in her step. Beads of sweat pulse across Han's forehead on this cool afternoon.

"Well, if it isn't Han Solo in the flesh! Boy, it sure has been awhile."

Han smiles sheepishly as Leia waits patiently for an explanation.

"Hello, , I sure didn't expect to see you here."

"I be you didn't." Her beaming smile does not fade as she turns to Leia. She immediately extends her hand to shake. "Hi, I'm Marion, the old flame. Indy here is obviously too stunned to make a proper introduction."

Leia gradually warms up to Marion and introduces herself.

"Hi, I'm Leia…his wife."

Han comes in too late with the introductions.

"Uhm…Leia, this is Marion Ravenwood, Marion, this is my wife…Leia…yeah….ahem…"

Marion grins and gestures in Leia's direction.

"We've met."

Han is not amused by their joke.

"Yeah, I got it."

Marion notices that Leia is expecting.

"So when is the blessed event?"

Han and Leia give two different answers.

"In four months" "Three months"

Marion can see where this is going to cause problems.

"Pudgy was never good with dates. Well, whenever the date is, that's great…congratulations."

Leia responds before giving Han an icy stare.

"Thanks."

Marion playfully nudges Han.

"So, why didn't you invite me to the wedding, you old scoundrel?''

Leia is curious as well.

"Yes, Han, why didn't you invite her to our wedding?"

Han is on the defensive. He feels his masculinity being challenged by the two women.

"It slipped my mind. Hey, I'm not good at making lists and stuff. My parents invited most of the guests for our side of the family."

Leia counts on her fingers.

"Let's see…Lando was there… who is he? Oh yes, a friend. Chewie was there…friend…half your cohorts from Mos Eisley Spaceport were there…Professor Brody…How could you forget your former girlfriend?"

Marion watches as Leia challenges Han. She is enjoying this.

"Oh-oh…Pudgy's getting nervous."

Leia folds her arms across her chest.

"He should be."

"Hello, I'm standing right here."

"Relax, we're done with you."

Marion tries to change the subject.

"So, where are you heading?"

"We were about to picnic at the concert…."

Han tries to get Leia to move on but she is curious to get to know Han's old girlfriend.

"Why don't you join us? We have a whole barbecued duck. It's more than enough for three."

"I couldn't."

"I insist."

As much as Anakin tries to zone out during Leia's account of that fateful afternoon, he cannot help being drawn in by the story. He expresses his disbelief.

"You didn't!"

"I did!"

"Then why are you mad at Han?"

"I was calling his bluff. I didn't think he would invite her. So there we are, on the Great Lawn listening to The Tatooine Jazz quartet with the other woman."

"What happened to the performance artists?"

"What? Daddy, have you been listening?"

"I have no choice but to listen."

"No, you're not listening. If you were listening, then you would know it was a ploy to avoid Marion."

"So, who barbecued the duck?"

"I don't know…the store did."

"See? If you cooked it, she would have gotten food poisoning and you and Han would have been alone to enjoy the concert."

"Daddy, why are you still laboring under the delusion that I can't cook?"

"Okay, I apologize. What was for dinner last night?"

"We went out with friends."

"What did Han have for breakfast this past weekend?"

"He picked up something at the pub with his friends."

"What is he having for dinner tonight?"

"He said he would grab something at the Imperial headquarters dining room and I needn't cook. We're not exactly on speaking terms. Where are you going with this, Daddy?"

"See? The man cannot get a decent home cooked meal. What happened to all those cooking courses you took?"

"What cooking classes?"

"A-ha! The cooking classes I paid for so you could prepare a meal without burning down Coruscant or poison your guests."

"Oh, 'those 'classes."

"You can't cook I rest my case."

"Those cooking instructors don't know what they're talking about. Snobs! I made a Corellian soufflé and the instructor said it was salty and too tough. It was a perfect soufflé. I busted my ass making that damned soufflé for that course."

"And you bust everybody else's ass too! Who wants to argue about whether Adran Blake was a true Corellian-trained chef or if he can walk when he's teaching or walk when he's talking--?

"That was years ago, and that guy's an idiot! He made me nervous always pacing back and forth...And that phony Tarasinese accent! Bleu…bleu bleu!" She does an exaggerated imitation of the renown chef. Here father responds to her criticism.

"They can't all be idiots, Leia. You argue with everybody! You argue in the Galactic Senate!"

"I'm a senator; it's my job to argue."

"You've got one of the worst reputations in this town. The other senators complain about you. You always have to have the last word. Those cooking instructors have a job to do too. Nobody will work with you no matter how much I pay them."

"Are you saying that nobody in Coruscant will work with me?"

"Nobody in Naboo will either. I couldn't even get you a spot at the Cordon Bleu school in Theed County."

"Why are you bringing up past history?"

"Why are you in my house?"

"I can't go back home to a man I can't trust."

"Isn't it a little too late for that now?" He looks at her pregnant belly.

"He isn't the man I thought he was."

"I could have told you that years ago 'Miss Know-it-all.'"

"I was young and in-love."

"And did you listen to me when I expressed my objections about 'Dumbo'?"

""You were being a bully and you tormented poor Han before he had a chance to prove himself."

"You're joking, right? You were dissing him a moment ago."

Leia starts bawling. Anakin rolls his eyes. He rubs his temples.

"Must you?"

Leia grabs a tissue from a box on the end table. She blows her nose. Her voice is muffled as she responds.

"Musht I whot?"

"Must you cry at the drop of a hat?"

"I'm hormonal."

"Don't come near me then. I don't want to catch it. I believe the solution to your dilemma is to go back home to your husband."

"Daddy, you're not listening to me!"

"I'm trying, sweet pea, but you're behaving irrationally. Why did you invite this woman to your picnic? What was the intent?"

"I thought she would say 'no."

"But she 'did' say 'No'; you said so yourself."

"You don't get it do you?"

"Well, apparently I don't! I don't do psycho stuff like inviting someone somewhere then secretly hope that the person declines the invitation? Who does that nutty crap? Oh, Leia…" He sighs. "You want the number of my shrink? I really think you need therapy."

"I'm not crazy, Daddy."

"Then go home."

"Then Han wins."

"You're '*sithing*' me, right?"

Anakin lies back in his chair and covers his face. He whispers.

"Please let this be a dream."

Dinnertime –

Anakin sits at the head of the dinner table. He keeps looking at the clock and then the phone located in the alcove just outside the dining room. Han has not called. Artoo can be heard in the distance playing with Skippy the canine droid in the garden. Kris butters a roll. He senses the tension at the table. Isabel just wants a quiet family dinner without any theatrics. Threepio sets a bowl of freshly steamed peas in the center of the table.

"You forgot this, Madame. Vegetables are a very important part of a growing boy's diet." He pats Kris on the shoulder. Isabel joins the family at the table.

"Thank you for that, Threepio. It's been a busy day for me."

Anakin snorts a remark.

"Yeah, a day of shopping on Rodian Drive will do that to a person. What? Was that out of line?"

Threepio chuckles.

"Oh, Master Ani's making a joke! It's so nice to hear laughter at the table again."

Leia sits at the table, enjoying her meal as if nothing happened. Anakin catches his wife's attention then nods his head in the direction of Leia. Isabel stares at her husband thinking he has a stiff neck. Kris stares at both of them. He chuckles quietly, thoroughly amused by their non-verbal communication at the dinner table. It is his daily form of amusement being the only child still living at home. He does not count Ana-Lena who resides at the all-girls boarding school and who only comes home on holidays and alternate weekends. Still, he occasionally misses having his other siblings at home to witness his parents' antics. There is new hope however, the weekend is approaching and nothing says 'dysfunctional family dinner' like the Skywalker Sunday dinner.

For now, Kris watches as his mother refuses to indulge his father with their no-so-secret series of hand and head gestures. Anakin told his wife one day that her only shortcoming was that, she is not blessed with 'force powers' other than that, she is 'perfect'. She stopped speaking to him for a week. Since making that remark, Anakin treads carefully this evening.

Kris piles a forkful of roast shaak and rice into his mouth. His father decides to make an announcement at the quiet dinner table. Anakin clears his throat. His words come out tentative, almost conciliatory.

"Leia…I was thinking…if things get worse and you really have no other choice…we have plenty of room…you and the children can move in with us."

A fork drops on Isabel's plate. Kris stops chewing. Leia puts down the serving spoon. She has just taken a third helping of steamed peas. She is touched by her father's seemingly heartfelt tone.

Kris waits for the volley from Leia as he slowly swallows his food then picks up his glass of Juma juice.

"Oh, Daddy, that is so sweet of you; really?"

"No! Go home and work on this out! We're not a hotel or halfway house for single mothers. Are you insane?"

"You're mean! How could you be so cruel?"

"Heheh-heheh-heh! Yeah, I'm a stinker."

Kris wipes his mouth after spitting Juma juice, staining the tablecloth. Threepio panics.

"Oh, dear! That's going to make an awful stain." He hurries out of the room.

Isabel leaves her chair, walks to the other end of the table where here husband is sitting. She takes his cloth napkin and hits Anakin snaps it across his forehead.

"Ouch!"

"Didn't see that coming, eh? Your Force powers haven't given you clairvoyance enough to avoid that. Does it sting?"

"You could put a person's eye out with that."

"Cool, wasn't it? Luke taught me that."

Leia leaves her chair. She sounds hurt.

"I know when I'm not wanted. I'll leave. Happy now?" She takes the plate of uneaten food and exits the dining room. Isabel goes after Leia. Kris starts to get up from the table. Anakin sees him.

"Where are you going? You didn't ask to be excused."

"May I be excused?"

"No. We still have stuff to discuss."

"Oh…well, I'm okay."

Threepio returns with a dishtowel and a beaker filled with a salt-water solution.

"This solution will dissolve that stain in no time."

Anakin stops eating and watches as the droid toils over the tablecloth. Kris slowly steps away from the table as Threepio scrubs the wet towel into the tablecloth. Kris makes his escape.

"Master, I believe the stain is fading."

"Gee, thanks, Threepio. You've made the stain disappear as well as my family."

"I beg to differ, sir; you've done that yourself! There! All done. Will you be having dessert, Master?"

Anakin stares at the protocol droid long and hard. Artoo is in the garden teaching Skippy to rollover on command and spin in midair. They both stop after hearing a loud crash of metal inside the house.