Mel and Janice are owned by whoever bought them from MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures and Star Wars is owned by G. Lucas. I dont intend to infringe on anyones rights and Im not making a penny off it. Im just havin a good time. Kinda at their expense.
Sanity: I have no claim on it after writing this.
Explanation: The devil made me do it. It was the violent movies, the rap lyrics, a bad piece of sashimi... Go with it, Im tryin to shirk responsibility here. Furthermore, I would like to say that this ditty fell out of my head after trying to explain the concept of crossover fanfiction to my beloved. She is a kind and gentle soul who doesnt understand anything Xena outside of the eye candy aspect of it, but puts up with me in any case. Shes swell. Perhaps we all would have been better off had I decided to go to sleep afterward and not stayed up getting overly punchy and writing this.
Language: Off color... If this kind of thing offends you, you wont enjoy this story. Stick to Cooking On High, its much more charming.
Thanks: Once again, thanks to Ume for being a swell beta babe. Even if she's baffled by my bardic behaviors, she's keepin' an eye out for my usage and punctuation.
Subtext: I dare you.
A Royal Burden
Mel and Janice/Star Wars and, well, you tell me - Crossover
by Creme Brulee
They told her there would be a reward in it if she could get some spoiled rich dame out of a big metal sphere and get her to safety. Piece of cake.
No one mentioned that the sphere thingy was the size of a friggin moon and crawling with Scorn Droopers. She hated Scorn Droopers. They looked down their nose at you every chance they got. Snotty bastards, the lot of em.
Theyd infested the galaxy and were known as the most color coordinated set of nasties ever to hold power. They were white humans for the most part, even though some of them sounded like black humans. This was an acoustic anomaly created by their voices reverberating off the insides of the helmets they all wore, all except one of them. He wore a pointy hood. The Scorn Droopers followed every dictum this crazy old goat gave them.
Janice Solo positioned her trusty cargo ship to sneak into the sphere through the garbage chute, a giant pipe that stuck out of the back. Most people wouldnt think that a sphere had a front or back, but Janice considered the garbage chute side the back, because that was the side opposite the planet Potedia. That place was such a dump that no one would face it on purpose. She piloted the ship in as the trash was being released into Potedias none too pristine atmosphere, and landed undetected. Oldest smuggling trick in the book.
Janice suited up, grabbed a shit load of weapons, and headed out the hatch with her trusty, seven foot tall, furry companion, Chicklet. Thats when she noticed that the two guys whod hired her, an old fart and young crop duster from Tatooie, had left the ship too and were trailing after them.
Where the hell do you think youre going? Janice asked.
Were going to help you free the Princess. Fluke, the young crop duster answered.
Like hell you are Farm Boy. You and gramps get back on the ship. Last thing I need is one of you getting your asses fried in a laser burst or by one of those light beacon things. Now move it, I dont have a light year to waste talkin' to you.
The two men slunk back onto the ship. Janice rolled her eyes and signalled Chicklet to follow. Men! Always tryin to get in the way.
Janice and Chicklet skulked through the corridors of the sphere, eventually locating the Princess cell. The Farm Boy had accessed the spheres computers. He wasnt completely useless. Hed guided them through the ship until theyd located the detention center. And then the shooting began. Thats the part that Chicklet and Janice always liked best.
Once all of the guards in the cell block were dealt with they opened the door that was sure to have the Princess, Janices meal ticket, behind it. They entered and spotted a figure reclining on a bench at the back. The woman unfolded herself and stood to her full height.
Shit Chicklet, shes almost as tall as you. Janice gave the toga-clad, lanky brunette a good long stare.
What are yall starin at? The woman asked in the dialect common to the nobility of the Southern Quadrant.
Nothin much Princess, and if you dont want to be fried with a laser blast, I suggest you move your ass. Its about to be under fire.
Who are you?
Were your rescue party, so lets move it.
Princess Meleia was no fool. She knew an opportunity when she saw one. She also knew trouble, but as this ragtag duo were her only chance at escape, she chose to take fate by the balls and twist. Get out of my way. She brushed past the two blocking the door and was about to enter the hallway when the short obnoxious woman in the droid armor yanked her back. Just in time to keep her nose from being removed by the laser bolt that flew past.
What the hell was that? She asked, her accent growing more faint as anxiety gripped her.
Pulse from a laser rifle, I expect. Janice rolled her eyes again and pushed the woman toward Chicklet. Stay put for a second, sweetheart. Ill take care of this.
And she did. If there was one thing Janice was good at, it was getting out of a scrape. Shed had a lot of practice, because shed been in so many... or if you really wanted to get picky, because shed caused so many. But people were rarely so particular once shed saved their asses from one. The princess, however, proved more difficult to impress.
They left the cell block and scurried through the corridors of the station. Janice was talking to Fluke on a small intercom, trying to figure a way back to the ship that might also leave their skins intact. The princess was getting impatient. She pushed past Chicklet saying, Would someone get this walking carpet out of my way? Hasnt anyone told you theres a hormone therapy for that condition?
Chicklet howled in indignation. Was it her fault she had slight hair growth issues? People could be so mean. Thats why on her planet they were usually used as fertilizer or the occasional snack.
They made it back to the ship and were ready to take off.
That was too easy. The princess stated. They let us go.
Well youre full of encouragement, arent ya? Janice asked. Do you even realize that we just saved your naggin ass from those goons? And that was a big help back there, screaming bloody murder when that guy shot your hair off. It had also been amazing to watch the princess return the volley of laser fire and take out near half a battalion of Scorn Droopers while dousing the flames shooting out from the sides of her head with her free hand.
Hold on to your seat sister, this bitch (the pet name Janice gave all of her ships), is ready to move. And they hyper-drived that baby out of the garbage chute and were off in a flash.
Was it hard to get out? Were there a lot of guys you had to kill? Was there a lot of blood all over the place when you blasted all of the cell guards? Fluke asked, his eyes aglow.
Janice shot Chicklet a look. Nah, but there was this ugly dude who came rattling up to us in black blast armor and a cape yelling something about the force and a guy named Owe Me One. I blew his ass away. Fool was crazy.
The others stared at Janice. Then looked at each other and shrugged. No one could make any sense of the mysterious encounter with the man in black.
They were making good time. If all of the instruments were telling the truth and the bucket of crap Janice called her ship held together for another five light years.
Janice was monitoring the instrument panel and making sure Fluke didnt get any funny ideas about touching anything.
So Fluke, Janice said. You think a woman like the princess and a woman like me...
No. Fluke gave her a look.
Why not? Janice wanted to know. Sure, she wasnt the most respectable choice for a princess. But she was only talking about a quickie in the broken compartment of the cryo chamber, not eternal bonding.
Because its perverted, thats why not. Youre both women.
Janice stared at Fluke and fingered the blaster at her hip. Fuckin provincial shit. She thought. Goddamned crop dusters still think its the friggin 21st century. Once I have my reward, his ass is the first to get blown away.
Fluke got off his snotty, bigoted rear and went into the other compartment, hoping to get a peek at the princess ample cleavage. Shed shed her toga and was wearing something people from the Southern Quadrant considered more comfortable. That it made the people around them less so, was their own problem.
Janice kicked back in her seat and was getting ready to enjoy a sip of her favorite Burgundian fire juice when the princess walked into the compartment and pushed Janices feet off of the dashboard where shed been resting them.
Damn it to hell! What are you trying to do? Janice yelled.
Yall are so crude. The princess scolded. Cant you act civil, even for a micro second?
Yeah, possibly. Like when Im standing in front of the gates of hell waiting to explain how I ended up there because this privileged shit stormed into the cockpit and pushed my feet off the controls of my ship that I was trying to steer around a fuckin asteroid that was flyin right up my ass!
With that said, Janice repositioned her boot on the controls, just in time to avoid the extra large asteroid theyd come upon as the ship had slowed out of Hyper-Sensitive Space.
Oh my! The princess breathed as she bent forward, craning her neck to watch the asteroid fly past.
Janices mood was remarkably improved by the view. As the princess leaned over on the dash, Janice was treated to a display of the princess royal orbs. Hot damn! She exclaimed.
The princess turned her head to look Janice in the eye, but couldnt make eye contact because the pilots eyes were firmly affixed elsewhere. Well, I declare!
You should. Janice agreed.
The princess stood. Janice smirked and took a swig from her canteen.
Are you drinkin and drivin? Meleia asked.
Why no maam. Janice answered truthfully. Were on auto pilot now. I just needed to fly her for a minute while we made the switch into Banal Space drive.
Oh. Whats that youre having? The princess inquired.
Two hours later. Fluke walked into the cockpit again and was shocked to the roots of his provincial hair to find the princess rolling on the floor with the short and crabby pilot. At first he thought theyd got in a fight, but then he noticed that neither one of them was wearing any clothes. And he still might have thought it was a fight, because hed never seen women fighting out in the dust fields of Tatooie, but the princess kept yelling, Oh yes! Yes! and Janice yelled back, Ice Princess, my ass!
They reached their destination. Janice had collected her reward and said goodbye to her motley group of passengers. She was getting ready to blast Fluke in the ass when the princess came up behind her and gave her a big squeeze. Nearly gave Janice a heart attack. That woman had a grip you wouldnt believe. She also talked faster than a laser blast in Hyper-Sensitive space and was midway through a sentence before Janice had been spun all of the way around.
And this is her, Momma and Poppa. Aint she cute? Shes the pilot that saved me from the Scorn Droopers! Shes short, but feisty and has a mouth on her thatd make a veteran pilot blush. But I expect thats just rough training and Ill have her cleaned up and on a leash in no time!
Of course you will Precious! Poppa said. Momma looked like she was mid aneurism.
Meleia, you are not bringing another... That, into our Habitto Pod! Momma exclaimed. I wont permit it! Last time you were rescued by a sleaze from Diogoba 2, she stayed for three months, ate us out of pod and home and stole the holographic maid when she left.
But Momma, Janice is different. Cant you see? Im in love! Mel turned to the now pale Janice and lifted her in a loving, but crushing embrace. And while Janice was readjusting to the pressure to her ribs she realized that she too was fond of the princess in her own way. Especially since her hair had stopped smelling of singed swamp rat.
Look Mel. Janice said. I can see Im not welcome. I think itd be better for everybody if I high-tailed it on outta here.
It was a self-sacrificing gesture on Janice's part. Shed heard that those Habitto Pods could be pretty swank. She wouldnt have minded getting to see the inside of one. And she thought Mels last rescuer must have been an insane bitch, because there was no way a holographic maid could do half of what Mel was capable of. Janice wasnt about to admit how she knew that for a fact.
Not on your life, little woman! Mel exclaimed. Youre mine now. We did the Southern Quadrant mating ritual. Were bonded. You wouldnt last ten nano seconds if you so much as stepped out of my hearing range.
What the hell are you talking about? Janice asked.
Mels Momma, being of Southern Quadrant royalty, took that moment to faint.
Mel pouted. Dont you even remember?
You mean when we drank cheap liquor and rolled on the floor?
No! Of course not!
Janice was relieved. If thatd been the case, shed be bonded to a third of the women in the North Eastern Quadrant.
When I took your hand and put it here, then you put yours... Mel reminded.
Meleia! Her father scolded from his kneeling position next to his unconscious wife.
Is that what that was? Janice asked. Itd been a new experience for her. She hadnt minded it.
Well, of course! Now were bonded forever and ever. If one of us tries ta leave the other, well, lets just say it aint pretty.
But I thought you said, forever and ever? Janice sounded disappointed.
Well sure darlin, til one of us tries ta leave. Then the strain to the morphic field that makes up the bond snaps it and the recoil... like I said, it aint pretty. Mel shivered.
Well, shit Mel. Howm I gonna look for the Xena Scrolls then? Besides being a smuggler and an all around pain in the ass - Janice was an archaeologist. The Xena Scrolls were Janices burning passion. Though she had to admit that she was burning pretty bad for Mel too.
With me, o course! Mel chided Janice. Whod you expect was going to read them for you?
I can read em myself Mel. Im not daft.
Oh, and I suppose they teach Ancient Earth Greek in Crabby Old Pilot School?
Well, shoot. No. Janice hadnt considered that. I guess Ill need you after all. Its a good thing were bonded though.
I cant pay you anything and the works hell. I havent had an assistant stay on a dig for longer than two nights.
And they lived very happily, by fits and starts, ever after.
Note: In my version of the Star Wars story, Obi-Wan survives. Because Alec Guiness is too cool to kill off. And in retaliation for G. Lucas always giving his female characters those wussy assed guns (like Sigourney Weaver doesnt look credible with large amounts of weaponry attached to her person...), I made all of the male characters secondary and only Chicklet, Janice and Mel get to use the guns. So there.
This is a cry for help.