Content Harry Potter Miscellaneous
  • Previous
  • Next

Neenie held out a piece of ration bar to Chinna. "That’s right," she coaxed as the Ewok moved closer, "come on."

"Seezyu ga vootha," said Chinna, clambering up on the log and taking the ration bar from Neenie’s hand. Neenie took a bite herself, then pulled off her helmet.

"Gah!" Chinna scooted back, eyes wide, her spear out in front of her. "Datse cari elma elma atsa!"

Neenie hid a smile. "Look, it’s a hat," she said, holding it out so Chinna could see it. "It’s not gonna hurt you. You’re a jittery little thing, aren’t you?"

"Zoh udju beef anith incoo eachu," Chinna said, sidling distrustfully up to the helmet. Then her ears perked. "Too innis cummins," she whispered, her head turning towards the undergrowth in front of them. "Hie towmo..."

"What is it?" Neenie asked.

A blaster bolt sizzled past them and hit the log.

That would be what. Neenie tumbled backwards off the log, pulling her own blaster as she went. Chinna had disappeared completely. Another shot came from the same direction. Neenie squinted, trying to make something out. Who’s shooting—

A slight noise behind her made her turn her head carefully. A stormtrooper had his blaster pointed straight at her head. "Freeze!" he barked.

She froze, hands where he could see them.

"Come on, get up," the trooper said, prodding her with his gun, his other hand out. She gave him her blaster as another trooper appeared out of the woods. "Go get your ride," her captor ordered, "and take her back to base."

The second trooper snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir!"

Movement near her feet made Neenie look down. Chinna was crouched under the log, her spear at the ready. "Cotcha!" she cried, stabbing the stormtrooper’s shin with it.  

The trooper looked down. "What the—"

Neenie snatched up the nearest thick branch and slammed it across the back of his head, diving after his blaster as it fell from his nerveless hand. The other trooper, already mounted on his broom, kicked off from the ground. Neenie caught him with a quick shot over the tree trunk, then swore under her breath as he collided with the other broomstick, setting it on fire.

I could have gotten back to the others that least I’m still alive, and free.

Chinna slid out from under the log. "Eura koods tafvae ter," she said in awe, looking at the downed trooper.

"Thanks," Neenie said, motioning Chinna closer. "Come on, let’s get out of here." Where there’s two troopers, there will be more, especially when they don’t report in...

Chinna grabbed Neenie’s hand. "Gumoo itmi, yub yub," she said. "Yub yub!"

Neenie hid another smile as she was led off into the underbrush.

I think she’s having too much fun with that line.


Darth Malius approached the Emperor aboard the Death Star.

"I told you to stay on the command ship," the Emperor said, a bit of heat penetrating his usually cold voice.

"A small Rebel force has penetrated the shield and landed on Hogwor," Darth Malius reported.

"Yes, I know," the Emperor said calmly.

Darth Malius took a deeper breath than usual. "My son is with them."

"Are you sure?"

"I have felt him, my Master."

"Strange, that I have not." The Emperor steepled his fingers. "I wonder if your feelings on this matter are clear, Lord Malius."

Malius raised his helmeted head. "They are clear, my Master."

"Then you must go to the Sanctuary Moon and wait for them."

Malius took a step back, surprised. "He will come to me?"

"I have foreseen it," the Emperor said with a small measure of satisfaction in his tone. "His compassion for..." He paused, looking thoughtful. "...for his friends will be his undoing. He will come to you, and then you will bring him before me."

Malius bowed. "As you wish."


"Drake! Drake!"

Drake scooped up the padded helmet he’d last seen on Neenie’s head and hurried towards Ron’s voice. Hairy, Threelo, and Emtoo were all standing around something with Ron—

A charred and destroyed broom. All too familiar a sight near here.

"Oh, Master Drake," said Threelo worriedly as he caught sight of what Drake was holding.

"There’s two more wrecked broomsticks back there," Drake said, pointing. "And I found this." He tossed the helmet to Ron.

"I’m afraid," Threelo said, fidgeting nervously, "that Emtoo’s sensors can find no trace of Princess Neenie."

"I hope she’s all right," Ron said, running his hand along the inside of the helmet.

Hairy sniffed the air and growled. Time to be an idiot, Drake translated. He grinned and winked at Hairy, who barked at him, then started off in the direction of the smell.

"What, Hairy?" Ron said, turning to watch his friend go. "What? Hairy!" He followed at a half-run to keep up with Hairy’s longer striders, Drake and the two droids behind him, Emtoo whistling nervously as she rolled.

Hairy hurried up to a stake in the ground with a tiny, shining golden bird tethered to it. Drake stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, then realized that of course, Wookiees ate tiny birds like this.

There’s something odd about that, though.

He filed it for future thought.

"I don’t get it," Ron said, staring at the bird, which flapped its wings desperately trying to get away. "It’s just a little bird, Hairy."

Hairy reached for the bird.

"Hairy, wait, don’t!" Drake shouted as he suddenly saw what this was going to do—

Too late. Hairy snapped the tether that held the bird to the stake, and a thick net of vines shot up from the four corners of the clearing and engulfed them all, dangling them several feet above the ground. Hairy dropped the bird, and it whizzed away, making him moan.

"Nice work," Ron said, shoving a Wookiee paw out of his mouth. "Great, Hairy, great! Always thinking with your stomach!"

Hairy’s response was untranslatable but rude.

"Will you take it easy?" Drake said, squirming to see if he could get an arm free. "Let’s just figure out a way to get out of this thing. Ron, can you reach my lightsaber?"

"Yeah, sure." Ron started maneuvering towards Drake.

Emtoo, in the bottom of the net, extended her little buzz-saw and began to cut through the ropes. "Emtoo, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea," said Threelo nervously. "It’s a very long droooo—"

The ropes snapped. The five plummeted to the ground.

Oof. Drake sat up groggily, aware of a number of small warmths in the Force around him. A small pointed thing intruded itself upon his vision.

What is...

He traced it to its source and found a teddy-bear-like creature holding it steadily pointed at him. And another beside that—and another—

They’re all around us.

And they’re cute.

"Hey!" Ron said angrily, pushing one of the tiny spears away from his face. "Point that thing someplace else."

The creatures—Ewoks, Drake remembered now from his briefing—jabbered among themselves briefly. Then the one who’d been threatening Ron resumed his posture.

"Hey—" Ron went for his blaster.

"Ron, don’t," Drake said quickly. "It’ll be all right."

Ron gave him a dubious look but let go of his pistol, which was quickly snatched up by an Ewok. Another took Drake’s own blaster and his lightsaber.

"Hairy, give them your crossbow," Drake directed. Hairy howled unhappily but let go of the weapon. The Ewok holding it hefted it as if to see how heavy it was, then chittered quietly to herself for a moment and stroked Hairy’s shoulder calmingly before hurrying away. Hairy watched her go, sudden speculation in his eyes.

"Oh, my head," moaned Threelo, sitting up.

A gasp went up from all the Ewoks, and the chattering talk broke out again. Threelo looked around and spoke a short phrase in what sounded like the same language, but in his prissy droid voice. The closest Ewok to the droid dropped his spear and bowed profoundly, lowering his furry body to the ground. The movement spread until Threelo was the center of waves of bowing, chanting Ewoks.

"Do you understand anything they’re saying?" Drake asked.

"Oh, yes, Master Drake!" Threelo said happily. "Remember that I am fluent in over six million forms of communication."

"What are you telling them?" Ron demanded.

"Hello, I think. I could be mistaken. They’re using a very primitive dialect. But—" A flutter of awe entered the golden droid’s tone. "—I do believe they think I am some sort of god!"

Emtoo gave the series of ascending beeps that was her laughter, and Hairy agreed with a sound like gargling with gravel.

"Well, why don’t you use your divine influence," Ron said with a tone that suggested he was holding to sanity by a very slim margin, "and get us out of this?"

Threelo drew himself up proudly. "I beg your pardon, General Solo, but that just wouldn’t be proper."

"Proper?" Ron swelled visibly.

"It’s against my programming to impersonate a deity."

"Why, you—" Ron started to get up, his hand raised.

Ewoks barked in alarm, and Ron was surrounded in an instant by a circle of spears. He held up his hands in surrender, smiling ingratiatingly. "My mistake," he said. "He’s an old friend of mine."


Far away, aboard a Rebel starship, five people groaned.

"They’re dead," Commander Nigilles predicted over his comlink. "Individually and collectively, they are dead."

"Not yet," said Admiral Lupar in his curiously echoing voice. "Where there’s life, there’s hope."

"Spare me the platitudes, Admiral, please. How do you think they’ll get out of this one?"

"They are resourceful. We wouldn’t have sent them on this mission if they weren’t."

"Resourceful doesn’t mean they can work miracles."

"Just watch," said General Calrissian, her voice dreamily content. "You’ll see."

"I sure will." Sirius took a drink of his caf and returned his attention to the screen. The procession of Ewoks, with Threelo carried on his throne and the other four adventurers tied to poles, had just reached the Ewok village. "Here we go..."


"What did he say?" Ron demanded of Threelo, nodding towards the small gray Ewok dressed in formal regalia, who’d been chattering with a larger reddish one. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the red one had taken Hairy’s crossbow out in the forest...

"I’m rather embarrassed, General Solo," said Threelo, ducking his head, "but it appears that you are to be the main course at a banquet in my honor."

Ron snarled. This is not the way I wanted my day to go.

A drum started beating, and all the Ewoks turned to look in a certain direction. Ron craned his neck around and felt his heart stop. Hair loose and lovely, dressed in tanned hides, apparently perfectly all right—

"Neenie!" he shouted at the same moment as Drake.

Neenie hurried towards them, but was blocked by several ranks of Ewok spears.

"Your Royal Highness!" Threelo said as Hairy howled a greeting and Emtoo whistlebeeped.

"But these are my friends," Neenie told the Ewoks blocking her. She looked over at the golden droid on his throne. "Threelo, tell them they must be set free."

Threelo spoke a few words to the gray and red Ewoks, who chattered back at him for a moment. Then the red one turned and waved at the other Ewoks, who started to pile wood underneath Ron.

"Somehow," Ron said through gritted teeth, "I got the feeling that didn’t help us very much." He sucked in a breath as he noticed a lighted torch being passed through the crowd. This is about to get very hot...

"Threelo," Drake spoke up. "Tell them that if they don’t do as you wish, you’ll become angry and use your magic."

"But Master Drake, what magic?" the droid said worriedly. "I couldn’t possibly—"

"Just tell them," Drake cut him off.

Threelo jabbered a few words at the Ewoks. The gray one stepped forward, skepticism plain on his face. Ron risked a glance back at Drake—the kid had his eyes shut and seemed to be concentrating hard on something.

"You see, Master Drake, they didn’t believe me," wailed Threelo. "Just as I said they wouldn’t..."

Ron whipped his head back around as Threelo’s voice changed pitch. "What-what-what’s happening! Oh! Oh, dear! Ooohhhh!"

The crude wooden throne, with Threelo still on it, was hovering above the dais, rotating in place. Ewoks screamed and fled in terror.

"Put me down!" Threelo cried from atop the throne. "He-e-elp! Master Drake! Emtoo! Somebody, somebody, help!"

Ron grinned to himself and wondered if anyone else had noticed that the quavers in Threelo’s voice sounded much more like someone trying not to laugh than someone in mortal terror.

"Master Drake—Emtoo, Emtoo, quickly! Do something, somebody! Oh! Ooohhhh!"

The big red Ewok—whose body was rather more curvaceous than Ron had first noticed—shouted orders at some of the others, and they ran towards Ron and the others. Ron tensed, but all they did was cut his feet free, then his hands. He sucked in a breath with the pain of returning circulation, but who cared about that when Neenie was waiting right there?

He ran to her and kissed her, vaguely hearing an "Ooooh" from the watching Ewoks. Drake was there a moment later, his arms around both of them.

Behind them, a vengeful droid squeal made Ron turn to look. Emtoo, welding arc extended, was chasing down an Ewok, screeching angrily. Neenie followed his line of sight and laughed, as did Drake a second later.

Hairy was surrounded by a group of Ewoks, including the red-furred chieftainess, as Ron realized she must be. The Wookiee reached down and scooped her up, setting her on his shoulder, and she snuggled down there and rapped his head lightly with one furry paw.

Threelo’s throne settled lightly onto the dais again, the droid looking distinctly frazzled. "Thanks, Threelo," Drake said, grinning.

"I—" Threelo would have been panting if he’d had to breathe. "I never knew I had it in me."


Laughter and cheers rang through the flight deck of the Rebel starship, causing several pilots to turn and see what the top brass were all so happy about.

"They’ll have the shield down by the time we get there," said Mon Letha in satisfaction, nodding. "I think we’ve seen all we need to. Thirty minutes to the rendezvous point—we should be getting ready."

"I’m on my way up now," said Commander Nigilles’ voice over the comlink.

"I should be on the bridge," said Admiral Lupar.

"I’ll go with you," General Dadine said, squeezing the Mon Calamari’s hand. "Tactical support."

"And I need to get the Hawk ready." General Calrissian saluted the other officers, and had her salute returned. "May the Force be with us."

"No kidding," said Commander Nigilles. "We’re gonna need it."

  • Previous
  • Next

Author Notes:

Little by little, we're getting there...I know what you all want to see, so please be patient. It's coming, I promise!