#evilmousetober23

[myevilmouse]

from @dankfarrikdrabbles -tober prompt list...

“You aren’t drinking your caf,” Lando remarked, taking a seat across from his friend.  The mess hall reeked of the stuff—a bracing aroma tinged with sweat and energy.

“I hate caf,” Luke said.  “Bitter.  Boring.”

“Try this.”  Lando’s fancy tastes extended to beverages.

Luke reluctantly accepted his proffered mug.

“Go ahead.”  The kid had never had hot chocolate?  “Today’s your lucky day.”

Scoffing, Luke took a sip.  And then another, eyes widening.

“Why would anyone drink caf with this in the galaxy?” he asked, amazed.

Lando laughed.  “Unrefined taste buds, Luke.  C’mon, I’ll show you how to make it.”

space bros

[myevilmouse]

“You always do that,” Din commented, gesturing at the two glasses on the table.

“Offer you a drink?”

The Mandalorian nodded.

“Hospitality,” Cobb grinned.  “Yes, always gonna buy you a snort, even if you don’t want my spotchka.”  He shook the bottle of radioactive-blue liquid happily.  “And who knows, maybe someday you’ll surprise me.” 

Leaning across the table, he tapped Din’s helmet with a gloved finger. 

“I can’t take it off,” Din said flatly.

“Would you like to?”

The question surprised him, and Din looked from Cobb’s easy-going smile to the bright glow of the spotchka before he answered.

“Sometimes.”

[myevilmouse]

Mara hated babysitting. 

Luke had put the twins to bed, and then, exhausted, conked out on the sofa three nanoseconds after.  Only baby Anakin was left to handle. 

Two minutes ago, he’d been strapped into his highchair, happily munching fistfuls of bucknoodles.  But now, chubby fingers were pushing his sippy cup ever closer to the tray’s lipped edge, eyes twinkling with mischievous intent.

Mara tsked in warning, shaking her head.

 “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Undaunted, Anakin shoved with a delighted giggle. 

Mara’s Force reflexes were fast enough—barely.

“Living up to your name, huh?” she sighed. 

Mara Jade babysitting ^^

[myevilmouse]

“Mara’s attending tonight’s gala?”

The words escaped in unmistakable complaint before Luke could stop them. 

His twin let them hang there, the silence loud with told-you-so satisfaction.

“It’s not too late, let’s go,” Han said, straight-faced.  Apparently a tacit agreement not to tease in place.

Luke sighed.  He hadn’t packed formalwear, planning a quiet night before tomorrow’s tactical meetings.  But, not the for the first time, his brother-in-law displayed almost Force-sensitive intuition.

“Borrow mine, just like after Yavin, remember?” he grinned.  “Leia stocks my closet with lots of fancy threads.”

“Thanks, Han,” Luke smiled. 

“That’s three you owe me, kid.”

[myevilmouse]

“I’m not saying I didn’t like it,” Mara insisted.

“You didn’t have to!”  Luke flung a hand at her plate.  “You barely touched the Covado salad—and you love Ithorian.  You had exactly two bites of Bilarian casserole.  The braboli—from my last trip to Ryborea—was the only success.”

His wife tried to argue.  “I love your cooking!  You know I do!”

With a humpf, Luke leaned back in his chair.  “Not tonight.”

“Pregnancy messes with taste buds.”  Mara reminded him. 

“No kidding,” Luke smiled tiredly.  “I’ll order delivery.  Fried klak as usual?”

“Thanks, farmboy.  Just three more weeks.”

[myevilmouse]

"I see your defeat, like many arms surrounding you in a cold embrace." 

The creature's prophecy hadn’t kept him awake, but now, as steely appendages wound tightly, the behemoth testing the durability of his ribcage, breath leaving his lungs, now Grand Admiral Thrawn remembered it, cursed it, and wondered what clues he’d missed, what strategies he’d overlooked in his confidence --his hubris-- that could have undone whatever Bridger was doing now. 

This mysterious Force... was it really this unpredictable? Or was his imminent death and failure of his mission due to his inability to not just see, but to believe? 

[myevilmouse]

“Ben won’t come out of his room,” Mara said. 

Her tone was, to Luke’s hearing, deliberately even, nothing to read into the words except stark fact.

“I shouldn’t have let him go on the mission, that’s what you mean?”

“Not what I said.”

“What you meant,” Luke repeated.

“It’s the Sith coven all over again,” Mara said.  “Sometimes I wish Ben hadn’t inherited your reckless optimism.  We can’t save everyone; he should know that by now.”

“That’s a hard lesson to learn,” Luke admitted.  “Even for me.”

“But a necessary one,” Mara retorted.  “Now go teach your son, Master Skywalker.”

This drabble is sort of a sequel or cousin to three from my #yearofluke2023 drabble series, for April and May and June, which Mara refers to here.

[myevilmouse]

It was a good dream, filled with sensual perfume and flavors, senses normally not commanded by Thrawn’s subconscious.  He stirred, luxurious sheets confining.

The dream’s thread unraveled, trailing a path of warmth through his body.  Blinking awake, Thrawn rolled to his side.

Arihnda Pryce’s bare shoulders peeked above the covers, facing away.  Asleep.  Maybe enjoying her own dreams.

Impulsively, Thrawn slid one arm beneath hers, the other around her waist, wrapping Pryce tightly to his chest. 

“Why’d you wake me?” she murmured.

“Just because,” Thrawn answered, placing a kiss on her nape, then settling his head to share the pillow.

gorgeous art by @blackmonitor