*[Narration]Si came wandering out of the refresher on board ‘the stink eye’ only to find Klaus and heinrich peering through the hatch, each holding a machine, both of them giggling to themselves rather quietly, Mav had been on enough recon missions to know when something was a miss, and these two were most definitely up to something, tiptoeing up behind them she heard a click as Klaus behind to speak into a machine that she soon discovered, threw ones voice, and boy o boy, he could do the best impression of Sir Alec Guiness she had ever heard in her life, and she had heard some good ones, she made a mental note to get him an agent as soon as they had wiped the uni of sith…*

As soon as Klaus begin to speak she watched as Heinrich dangled a long stick over Goose, on the end was a bottle of Sunblock, very carefully heinrich mastered the bottle and began to write upon his legs, from her view point she was unable to see exactly what it was he was writing, but quick as a flash she was behind the large winged creatures and patted them upon the back…[/Narration]

Care to explain what you were upto?
*Tapping her green visor and pushing up her aviator glasses, she jostled her bum bag and adjusted her bermuda shorts as she waited for an explantion.*

The Emübereich had been caught in their prank; poor Klaus had nearly jumped out of his feathers. They turned to face Mia Maverick, who stood with her arms crossed and stern expression on her face. She tapped her foot as she waited for the emu to explain themselves.

“It was Heinrich’s idea, Herr Jedi, and *oof!*” the guileless Klaus began, but was silenced by Heinrich with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“I am sorry for the deception,” Heinrich interrupted, “but we were visited by the Force Ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He said he was pressed for time and wanted us to deliver a message to Herr Güse for him. We were only trying to duplicate the effect. Herr Güse would be sorely disappointed if he knew he had just missed seeing his hero…” Mav’s features softened; the story made complete sense. “And,” Heinrich continued, “We knew it would be a dangerous mission to face the Dark Side Cave, so we were writing ancient Jedi runes of protection on him.”

Heinrich knew there would be no talking Goose out of facing such a volatile and dangerous place as the Cave. It was chock full of evil and Sithly magics, hungry beasts, and *other* unimaginable horrors. It was actually ancient Sith characters that Heinrich had scrawled, in sun block, on Goose’s skin. They read: ‘Please don’t kill me; I am an idiot. And I don't taste very good either.’

*As Commander Cadix led the 3rd Company through he thick underbrush of the planet, they eventually came to see the glow in the window of the little home, and Cadix silently wondered to himself as to why the light was still on, so long after the death of the acclaimed Jedi Grand Master. No mater, he was dead and that was all the Cadix cared about. As he moved closer, he signaled for the 3rd Company to halt and then moved up closer with a section of 12 men moving with him, led by Sergeant Rukil.

They came to find the ship that had been reported in the orbit, along with some individuals conversing with a.. was that a Force ghost? And was that... Alec Guinness? No it couldn't be, Cadix concluded, it must have been some Jedi who had died, though he soon recognized it to be Obi-wan, a famous Jedi from the times of the Clone Wars. Moving closer, he would be visible to the group by now, and though his weapon was firmly placed in the shoulder, it was not yet raised to point at them, though as a trained soldier it could quickly become so.

Cadix had come to fear very little in this Galaxy and as he spoke, his face displayed the confidence, his scarred visage showing his experience and serious tone.*

I would highly suggest identifying yourselves before your are obliterated by a company of troops. *The unnerving part of the comment made by the Legion Commander was that the words were not even spoken in the tone of a threat, but instead in a matter-of-fact manner. One that would surely have caused any of his troopers, and many others in this twisted Galaxy to lose control of particular bodily functions.*

Burnt as kriff, Goose winced painfully as he stood. It had probably been a bad idea to put on the leopard print speedos to catch a few late afternoon rays, but now there was nothing for it. Except maybe a little bacta and some aloe vera. The sky had turned a deep red with the fall of dusk, and even though Goose felt like a glowing irradiated isotope, his skin was all gooseflesh (lol) in the cool evening breeze. He reached over, pulled on his fine satin smoking jacket, and stepped into his unlaced combat boots. Bending painfully, he pulled a chilled beer from the cooler and downed half of it in one hearty pull. With the can tilted just so, Goose happened to look towards a hatch on ‘The Stink Eye’ and there he saw Mia Maverick arguing with Heinrich and Klaus. Donning his straw cowboy hat, Goose waved at his friends.

“Come on down for a beer!” he shouted. “There are not even any mosquitoes out here! Bring the barbecue (don’t tell the Battle Cattle!) And some bacta! *ow!*” It hurt Goose to wave, so he stopped. The Emu descended from a cargo lift with shamed heads hung low; a scowling Mav stood behind them with arms crossed disapprovingly. She spoke first:

“Goose, these two have something to tell you…”

“I am so sorry, Herr Güse,” said Klaus, “but I am afraid that the force ghost you saw was…” A stranger’s voice suddenly interrupted.

“I would highly suggest identifying yourselves before you are obliterated by a company of troops.”

Goose was fully potty trained by the age of three (Best Jedi Ever, say thankya) so he did not lose control of his bodily functions. He did, however, register the soldier’s business-like tone. Goose did not take kindly to it as there was to be no business on holidays (it was even written in the Jedi Code… probably) and Goose was certainly on holiday. After all, it could even be his *last* holiday before his inevitable Epic Force Showdown with an evil Dark Lord.

“You there!” Goose hollered at the soldier. “None of that talk on a holiday, fella! It’s in the Jedi Code! Now, be civilized and come join us for a beer or two! There’s… um… enough for your buddies also…”

Goose began to count all the heavily-armed shadows that blended almost perfectly with the swampy terrain. Hmmm… thought Goose. His keen Jedi mind performed a wizard’s calculation, and he turned to Heinrich and Klaus.

“Better go get some more beer.”

"And I... uh... should probably put some pants on," said Goose.

It was glorious. It was breathtaking:

*A cargo ramp lowered from the belly of ‘The Stink Eye’ as Mia Maverick reappeared. Silhouetted by the landing lights and bathed in the mist of pressurised exhaust from the pneumatic lift pistons, it was like a rock video, a live wrestling match, a beer commercial, and a monster truck rally all rolled into one shining moment. Mia Maverick sauntered back down the ramp pushing the largest and most impressive BBQ grill that Goose had ever seen. It rumbled and shook the earth as it rolled heavily across the ground on two ridiculously wide steel tank treads. It was a wrought iron and shiny chrome masterpiece of industrial-grade mechanical ingenuity; the sheer design would give any hardcore swoop-biker a raging roger. Following behind, the emu carted several chests of ice that were filled to brimming with gleaming metallic tall-cans of frosty brew.*

In short, it was the best moment of Goose’s life. In that one shining moment, Goose had it all.

Goose woke up the next day facedown on his bunk, wearing only one combat boot, a pair of khaki shorts, and his smoking jacket. His head hurt, Best Hangover Ever, and he had wicked scum-tongue. Luckily, some kind soul had left a large pitcher of water on his bedside table, which he grasped with both hands and drained half in one desperately thirsty swig. As he set the pitcher down again, he looked at the clock and noticed that it was almost sunrise. Goose felt flutters of excitement stir in his belly; today he and Mav would face The Cave, just as Obi-Wan’s Force Ghost had predicted. It would be a shame to miss the sunrise of such an important day. Goose found his other boot, put it on, grabbed his jug of water, and headed for the cargo lift.

Once again seated in his lounger on the tarmac, Goose watched the sun come up through the lenses of his mirrored aviator sunglasses. As the first rays of sunlight broke from the tree-line, thick tendrils of evaporating dew rolled off the foliage. Strange swamp birds began to rustle in the tree-tops, squawking and calling out to each other. A new day had begun on Dagobah. Goose inhaled deeply, savouring the humid earthy air, and smiled.

The pitcher of water, accompanied by two extra-strength aspirin, had done the trick; Goose was feeling better. He had showered and changed into a fresh flight-suit, and was now seated on the edge of his lounger tightening up the laces of his combat boots. The bright morning light glinted off his mirrored sunglasses as he chewed on a toothpick; his brow furrowed as though deep in thought.

**Goose was fifteen and he had already been on his own for a few years now. The Masters at the Jedi Temple had long since concluded that Duk Duk Güse would never serve as a Knight; the heartbroken young lad had run off to find his own path to the Force. Raised as a farm-boy on Dantooine, Goose found himself alone and utterly bewildered in the lower-works of Coruscant after leaving the Temple. Until the day he met Uncle Creepy; once a great Jedi Knight who had fallen from grace… and into a bottle of scotch (he had earned the title ‘Uncle Creepy’ from the other space hobos who had seen UC perform miraculous feats with the Force.) UC had taught Goose how to drink like a trooper, how to gamble, and how to scam free passage aboard transport ships. He taught Goose how to make a shelter from garbage, and where the best soup-kitchens were, and in short, how to survive for free in a cold, uncaring universe.

A young Goose popped his head inside the large cardboard tepee, beaming ear to ear as he shook a full bottle of bourbon at his filthy master. UC was seated cross-legged before a small open fire, roasting a plump vermin on a stick. He looked up at Goose, his eyes gleaming with excitement in the fire-light, and smiled.

“That’s my boy!” UC exclaimed and reached out greedily. “Pazaak?” The boy nodded and placed the bottle into UC’s outstretched hand. “Good! Good lad, you have done well! And now, for your trouble, I will impart today’s Force lesson.” UC cracked open the bottle, took a long swallow, and set it down with eyes squeezed shut in a grimace, letting out a satisfied ‘ahhh.’ He popped open a single blurry eye and regarded Goose for a moment.

“If you know there’s going to be trouble ahead, you’d best know what’s in your pockets.”

Goose’s heart sank. He had spent three hours in the low-stakes Pazaak alley just to turn enough coin into a bottle of premium for his master, only to receive this trite, meaningless scrap of drivel.**

Goose had a sudden epiphany; he finally understood what UC had meant, so many years ago. He unbuckled his weapon belt and splayed it out across the top of a cooler. He went over the contents, cleaned and oiled his pistol and lightsaber, checked over his ammo supply (he had three shells left) and replaced spent munitions with fresh surplus. He placed a new power core into his father’s lightsaber and topped up the minutes on his prepaid comlink. Into the fanny pack, he placed: a travel mirror, extra hair gel, silly putty, a flashlight, a roll of string, a crucifix and some vials of holy water. He added a few ration packs, a comic book, a change of socks, and a med-kit. He made sure he had waterproof matches and a flare-gun. He would be ready to face The Cave.

As Duk Duk Güse finished preparing to face The Cave, there was a knock at his cabin door. Goose opened it to a frantic looking Klaus and a sullen Heinrich.

“What’s up, fellas?” asked Goose.

“Herr Güse! I am sorry, but we have lost Jedi Mia Maverick!”

“What!”

“Well, she is gone!” Klaus exclaimed. “We have gone to her room and she is not there. She left a note… with this.” Klaus raised a mechanical hand that held a folded piece of paper attached to the lightsaber he had given to Mav. Goose snatched up the note and read it:

Dear Goose,

The Force calls to me, and I must answer to my duty. I must embark on a super-secret mission, and I must go alone. I cannot say any more on this, because I have forgotten some of the details, but go I must. Please try not to do anything stupid and get yourself killed in my absence.

Your ally in the Force,
Mav

Goose carefully refolded the note and tucked it away in his flight-suit. He did not speak for a long time; the emu shifted uncomfortably until he finally spoke without looking at them.

“Mav had to go. It was nothing either of you have done, so don’t blame yourselves.” At this point, Klaus let out a relieved sigh. Goose continued: “She serves the Force, as I do, and was called elsewhere. Jedi stuff and all that. Come, boys, we have an evil cave to confront! Mav would want this…” Goose buckled on his returned lightsaber with a grim look of determination. “Let’s go. We need to be at the cave by precisely one o’clock!”

*The Fiannóglach Togorian ~ Togorian Ranger unit and Imperial General continue close watch on the old hut*