this chapter is a work in progress, and as such will be updated regularly
As his starfighter approached the lobby access gates, Luke activated the com to call the control room
"Stealth-X to Meridian control, request docking clearance for conference hall podium, over."
After the tell-tale clatter of a man falling out of his chair and getting drenched in caf, the control room replied "Meridian control to Stealth-X pilot, please activate your transponder next time. Your docking clearance is granted. Control out."
After half an hour or so, Luke had wandered off to find a caf dispenser. Almost as soon as he turned the corner, two men, both dressed in rebellion-era flight suits dashed out from behind a colonnade carrying a large satchel and, after checking the coast was clear, they disabled the fighters astromech droid by placing it the wrong way up in a locker before leaving a nearby bin on the top of the container.
With the droid out of the way, the satchel bearer and his partner in crime quickly set about placing booby traps in the fighter's cockpit. Unfortunately for the two pranksters, the caf dispenser in the corridor outside the conference centre had been unjinxed by the maintenance team by the time Luke arrived, and so he returned to find Wedge Antilles hard at work, planting dyebombs, fartpads and even slugthrower caps in the cockpit, while Tycho added the standard adornment of red stripes with a sprayer and a stencil, determined that no Rogue piloted craft should be without its stripes.
After a brief period of laughter, Luke managed to stop, and proceeded to lecture them. "I know it looks like an X-wing, Wedge, but it takes ten droid hours per minute flown to get that thing operational again. The last person to set off a blasted smoke bomb was forced to clean every circuit with a toothbrush by the hanger supervisor." Even after Luke's tirade, they looked little more repentant than a group of starfighter academy pranksters caught sabotaging an instructor's craft.
"So, what I am going to do is as follows; I will go get another cup of caf while you untrap my fighter. Even one solitary cap will result in both of you being made to saniscrucb the cockpit, supervised by a Wookie. Any Questions? No? Good. And Tycho."
"Yes, Master Skywalker?"
"Please finish the paintjob, then make sure you let Artoo out of that storage bin. Then run."
After Luke had gone for a second cup of caf, Wedge set to work untrapping the cockpit, while Tycho, taking Luke's advice, legged it as soon as he removed the bin. To his extreme credit, he got a full twenty metres before Artoo caught up with him, and began using his ronto prod in chastisement.
After both Ben and Vestara had discovered Ben's extreme negligence in forgetting to disconnect the shock pads in Vestara's stuncuffs, they adjourned to the main lounge area, discarding the cuffs into a cupboard for later modification.
After booting up the holo, they were surprised to discover that their acquittal was no longer main headline news, but was simply connected to another case.
"...and we conclude our court coverage with news from the prosecution of 8 former jurors, including disgraced former journalist Javis Tyrr, who are all charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice and Juror Misconduct. All eight of the accused have pleaded guilty to the charges against them. sentencing will be tomorrow. whether or not their intended victims will be in court remains to be seen. alia copak out"
"Ves," Ben asked once the news had sunk in, "would you be amenable to a celebration?"
"What do you have in mind?" she asked
"A meal at a nice little restaurant, maybe low energy lighting and candles on the table."
"Are you old enough to be allowed to buy drinks here on Coruscant?"
"Who's going to ask a robed up Jedi if he's allowed to drink?"
"Very devious."
He smiled."I have to keep up with you." He kissed her gently, before leaning away to snag his comlink.
~0~
Luke broke high, circling in onto the T-65 from above and behind, relying on his craft's stealth abilities to avoid being detected by Wedge, his opponent, either visually or on sensors. This was the first time the Jedi master had advanced beyond the quarter-finals in the Rogue sim-dogfighting tournament, due to the raw skill element being far more important and necessary than it was in a live dogfight, where his force instincts could level the battlefield. To his frustration he didn't begin to approach having the sheer combat hours any of the more 'experienced' pilots boasted, despite being one of the greatest combat flyers in the galaxy.
Easing onto his target carefully, he was astonished when the Correlian threw his starfighter into a dive, twisting around until he was almost directly targeting Luke. The Jedi master twisted his figher to one side, spiralling around a stream of bolts before sending his own slashing through the vintage fighter's shields, tearing apart the cockpit, before the simulator faded to black, indicating mission accomplished.
Hauling himself out of the head to head simulator, he was greeted with a stein of lomin ale, along with a TIE Defender ion cannon emmitor, mounted on a Alderaanian teak base. Somehow, the trinket had ended up as the squadron championship trophy. Then he was pulled into the crowd, and lost track of time.
~0~
Settling into one of the booths in a small, up-market restaurant called Gav, Ben shared a secret smile with Vestara, followed almost immediately by a lecherous wink, to which she responded with a coy smile, a flirt of her hair, and a wink of her own.
The starter was a selection of Mantellian crustations, served with a light white wine. The meal was progressing along planned lines, until Ben suddenly twisted a chunk of prawn of his girlfriend's fork, aiming it, along with a dozen other chunks of the same kind, into a suddenly conjured evidence bag, just as he hit the emergency button on his comlink and spoke into it.
"Security, please." He said, before pausing. "Hi, I'm in the Gav, seafood restaurant up in the manari mountains area, and I think someone just tried to poison me and my girlfriend. I just managed to stop her eating a Mantellian fire prawn. Yes, she is human, and so am I. On your way, thanks. We're the corner booth at the back of the restaurant."