To Be or Not To Be
Title: To Be or Not To Be
Summary: Wedge has been in a funk and Wes, Tycho, and Hobbie finally deside to do something about it.
Rating: PG
A/N: For Bitwhizzle whose prompts were 1) Insomnia 2) Nerfs 3) Waffles. Hope you like. Many apologies for this late entry. And many thanks for Virusq's patience and helpful ideas.
“You want me to do what?” Wedge Antilles’ chair flew back with such force, that bounced of the metal wall with a loud clang! Beside him, Tycho Celchu winced.
Wedge crossed his arms over his chest crossly and stared at the two pilots sitting in front of his desk.
Hobbie Klivian sighed and sent a sour glance at his companion, “It was his idea,” he jerked a thumb in Wes Janson’s direction.
Wes scowled at his friend but didn’t reply.
Wedge sighed and shared a tired look with Tycho. He fumbled briefly for the chair behind him and sat back down wearily. He barely resisted the urge rub his nose. “What are you planning again?”
Wes grinned, “A skit.”
“A skit.” Wedge said dubiously. Tcyho raised an eyebrow.
Wes ignored Hobbie’s quiet groan of dismay, “Yeah,” he replied cheerfully, “a three-man skit, actually.” Wes pointed at himself and Hobbie for emphasis. “All we need is one more person.”
Wedge finally rubbed his nose and sank back into his chair, “And you want me to do it.”
Wes grinned wider, “Yeah.”
If it was possible, Hobbie’s expression became more mournful and Tycho’s eyebrow went higher.
“Something we should know about, Hobbie?”
Hobbie opened his mouth but caught the glare Wes sent him and abruptly shook his head.
Wedge sighed again, “Fine, but I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I.” It wasn’t a question and the look on Hobbie’s face confirmed it.
Great!” Wes stood up and thrust a couple sheets of flimsi in his face. “These are your lines. We’ll be doing the skit at Fey’lya’s hoity toity bash he’s throwing for all the other councilors.”
Wedge’s eyes widened with horror. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Wes smirked, “Nope. See you in a week, Wedge.”
The door slid shut behind Hobbie and Wes with a muffled thunk. Once they were gone, Wedge glanced over his lines, “Tycho?”
“Yeah?"
“Please tell me this not what I think it is,”
“Yup,”
Wedge placed his head in his hands and moaned. “I’m doomed.”
***
Before he knew it, the week flew by and suddenly the dreaded night was upon him.
Wedge stood in the dressing rooms with his wife, Iella, who could not stop grinning. “Stop looking so pensive, Wedge, you’ll do fine.”
Wedge really wanted to plant his face in his hands but he couldn’t without disturbing the white makeup that had been smeared generously on it. His lips felt heavy with the bright, gaudy red lipstick.
Wes poked his head through the curtain that separated the room from the stage. “All right, it’s almost our turn,” he pulled his head back and glanced Wedge, grinning. “Ready?”
Wedge glowered, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Behind the curtain, Wedge heard the music swell to a crescendo then die down to a stop. Applause filtered through the red curtain and Wedge felt his heart start to pound in anticipation.
Koyi Komad came out with Shalla Nelprin and upon seeing Wedge, they burst into a fit of laughter, “Oh this I have to see,” Koyi finally gasped, they giggled and moved aside to let Wedge pass through the curtain.
Bright lights suddenly assaulted his eyes and he blinked several times to adjust. A dark blue skirt swished around his legs and above that was a brow vest covering a light blue shirt, complete with fake breasts. He clutched a brown waking staff with a curve and was followed by three small droids meant to be nerfs.
There was a moment of silence and suddenly the audience burst into laughter. In the crowd, Wedge spotted Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Face Loran, and several other Rogues and Wraiths.
Wedge swallowed, mortified; he was going to kill Wes after this, oh yes he was. Swallowing his fear, he sashayed across the stage swinging his hips (like Iella and Mirax taught him, to their delight) garnering more laughter. At the far end of the stage was a small hut with room enough for two inside. Wedge made his way toward the hut with Wes narrating the play in the background.
As Wedge made his way toward the hut, his three nerf-droids suddenly started to bleat in terror and he turned? From the same entrance, Hobbie emerged completely dressed in black. As he slunked his way toward him, Wedge let out a high, greatly exaggerated, pitch shriek, “Oh, no!” he cried shrilly, “It’s a raider! Somebody save me!”
And on cue, Wes darted out from the other entrance, drew his prop sword shouting, “Fear not, Fair Lady, I shall slay this wicked devil and rid thy place of him.”
Wedge barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Wes lunged toward Hobbie and they put on an impressive fight. At length, Hobbie suddenly cried out in pain and collapsed, fake blood staining his front. “I am slain!” he cried, and fell forward. In a puff of smoke, Hobbie vanished.
There was a smattering of applause and Wedge threw his arms around Wes, “My hero!” he said cheerfully. With a gleeful flourish, Wedge planted a wet kiss on Wes’ cheek, leaving a red smear of lipstick. Wes turned a beautiful shade of crimson.
The audience loved it.
***
Back in the dressing room, Tycho stopped Wes with a stretched out hand, grinning, “Pay up, Wes.”
Wes scowled, “Cheater,” he dug into a pocket and pulled a 20 cred chip.
Wedge blinked. “Wait a minute,” he glanced at Tycho, “you knew about this beforehand?”
“Yeah,” Tycho pocketed the chip, “I thought it was a good idea. Especially after the last mission.” He grimaced, “Morale was low, and you were stalking the corridors at ungodly hours.” Tycho shrugged, “Anyways, Wes and I approached Princess Leia about it and she was all for it. It was easy getting Fey’lya to host the party but we didn’t know if you would actually say yes.”
Wedge stared, “Let me get this straight,” he said slowly, “you planned this based on the presumption that I’d actually say yes?”
Wes exchanged a look with Tycho and Hobbie, “Well, yeah,” Wes fidgeted, “you’re not mad?”
Wedge smiled slightly, “On the contrary,” he sighed, “This was one of the days I’ve had in weeks.” Wedge gripped Wes lightly on the shoulder, “And I thank you for it.”
“Well, then,” Wedge clapped his hands, “What say we ditch this joint?”
There was a hearty chorus of yes.