Story Challenge #10: 4th November 2003
A five minute fic, starting with the word "Time--"

News
A 5-minute SW ficlet by Morgan D.
Plot suggested by Ptyx

v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v

"Time to admit the truth, my friends! Councillor Organa has dreadful taste. And I'm not talking about the horrible dress she was wearing at King Otrezze's reception!"

Laughter erupted, loud and hardly spontaneous. Maybe not everyone had qualms about the green gown that Leia had worn at the ball offered by the monarch of Dod'ahnnar to celebrate the peace treaty with the New Republic. Maybe not everyone remembered it, even if the event had been broadcast to a good part of the galaxy; it had been already a month since then. Or maybe not everyone thought she had bad taste at all.

The laughter died all too quickly, but Kolch Drahsyr didn't seem fazed by this. "Of course, I've been told that Captain Solo is in fact quite easy on the eyes. That's the opinion of true experts on the matter — my two teenage daughters."

That managed to attract much more sympathy from the audience to the talk-show host. Luke Skywalker, however, raised a finger toward the button under the screen, as the chortling sounds echoed in his already throbbing head. One light push with the Force, and silence would fall upon him once more.

Silence would not change the facts, though.

"Isn't it amazing?" asked Drahsyr. "When I came here this morning I had this entire show planned. We would be discussing the new policies on intersystems syndicates with Vice-Councillor Seah Yagam..."

The public clapped politely. Luke just stared at the off button, longing for oblivion.

"...and talking with actress Anig ErSile about her latest performance in the Imperial Theatre..."

More enthusiastic clapping. Luke, who had actually seen Ms ErSile's play, pointed his finger with much more determination.

"...and also hearing the most astonishing predictions from Prophet Odkam Ried, who honours us with his presence here in the Daybreak with Kolch Drahsyr."

Clapping that barely muffled some rooting. Luke closed his eyes, seeing the button in his mind...

"But guess what?" Drahsyr exclaimed. "None of our guests wants to talk about any of this stuff anymore. After all, who cares about economy, culture, or the future of the galaxy? Those are insignificant issues after the latest announcement from Ennocma Werceci: Captain Han Solo of Corellia and Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan are getting married!"

Frenzied clapping, whistles, screams, hubbub. Luke's hand dropped to his lap, heavier than three thousand banthas put together.

A beep. Luke clicked his comlink on. "Skywalker here."

"Luke, you asked me to call you... The Millennium Falcon has just landed."

"Thanks, Wedge."

Luke didn't move. Didn't turn off the precious button below the screen. Silence wouldn't do him any good anyway.

Instead, he should listen to the audience's laughter, let it ring in his ears and heart until he became deaf and numb. Maybe Drahsyr would be smart enough to tell the most ludicrous of all jokes ever: the one about the Jedi Knight that fell in love with his sister's fiancé.

Maybe then the audience's rude laughter would finally convince him to let go of his pointless, selfish hopes.

v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v