*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

~*~The Salsa Band played a lively tune~*~

"Are you really my ride?"

Tipping his hat, the tight driver's uniform fitting the tall man like a glove, noting the woman before him sizing him up, he nodded to himself. Definitely one of the future HSU students "Yes, I'll be taking you to Ho State University."

DebLei hesitated. Sure, she knew the place was great, but they sent a Bentley to get her? Wasn't that a bit...

And then she remembered that this was the General's bunch of grrls... outlandish wasn't a word they took offence at.

Which could explain why she had transferred there as soon as she got the application for it.

"Alright, let's go. Can we stop by someplace for some food though? I forgot to eat earlier."

The driver grinned as he hefted the suitcase in, closed the trunk and opened the back door of the sleek black British vehicle for the future senior class Grrl. "No need, there's Nutella and a bottle of champagne back there."

Deb grinned as she settled into the plush black leather seats and reached for a wine flute. Yep, this was the place to be.

~*~One of the horns broke into a solo, bringing the joint to its feet~*~

"I'm not wearing this for the picture."

"Well, you certainly can't wear nothing for it."

Caeryn crossed her arms. "Well, okay. But can the General?"

Ban paused. "Can the General what?"

The Dean shook her head, it seemed obvious enough to her. "Can the General wear nothing?"

"Ooooh. Of course."

And then, after exactly three nanoseconds of imagining said vision of exquisite perfection, both Grrls swooned into puddles of hormonal goo.

~*~The guitar was less than perfect, and his Santana riff just -wasn't- working~*~

"Yes, you heard me. Fifteen bushes, at least two years old, if I see one sign of infestation I'm ramming the bushes, thorns and all, up your ass.... I'll fax the list of registered hybrids to you, and you better not give me tea crosses for florabundas! I know the fraggin' difference. No, I've never considered telemarketing... of course I'm being pushy... I just lost a garden to a stunted little teddy bear thing! You have an Ewok clause?... really... yes, I do have the receipt for the original bushes... proof that an Ewok did it?... how about a confession from the overgrown rodent... you'll send a representative here and settle this up?... well, thank you, this was less painful to you than I had thought it would be..."

Leaning into the office, distracted momentarily by the huge and shiny claymore hung near the door, Judy waved at Shana, grabbing her attention. "Hey, have you seen Sugar?"

Looking up as she set the comm back down, the Queen of Paperwork flashed a brief, slightly sociopathic, smile.

"No, why do you ask?"

~*~And with a crash of cymbals~*~

"Dande, can I have a minute here?"

Freezing and then whorling around, her skirt gathering at her ankles with feathered grace, the Mastah chick smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course, my dear Dieben, whatever you need."

"Within reason," Dieben added under her breath. Even Hos had limits. "Can I possibly, hopefully, generously ask you to warm up to the General?"

Dande appeared as if she were about to faint. "But my loyalty is to my dear, beloved Master! I could never let my eye wander!"

Right then and there the catsuit clad secretary vowed that if she ever had a romance novel within reach, she'd burn it. "No, I'm not asking you to give up the tall one, I'm just..." Dieben threw her hands up in the air, stalked over to her desk and pointed at the paper copy of the heavily guarded appointment book. "He was committed! He has issues! He's missing appointments, he's not acting like himself and when I fondled his ass this morning and he didn't even pin me to the desk! All because of you... your... devotion to.... to that.... Jedi!"

Dande stepped back dramatically and looked as if she'd been struck by a rather large truck. "Stop shouting, Dieben."

She huffed and pouted her lip out. "I'm not shouting! Alright, I am! I'm shouting, I'm shouting, I'm—"

Dieben's rant fell silent as one of the General's Fooz Ball Trophies fell off its little shelf and conked her squarely in the head.

Dande blinked.

~*~The audience got up to dance~*~

Strolling into the rather large garage around the side of the main campus building, Jael pointed at the line of vehicles. "There's Caeryn's, and Shana's, and Darry's, and... hmmm... Emmy's is missing... oh, there's the bike."

Tasha's jaw fell open. "Oh please tell me that's his."

Jael grinned. "Hell yeah."

Decked out in black, aston green, champagne and unpainted shining metal, the Triumph Thunderbird classic glinted in the garage lights, beckoning the grrls to adore it. "That's not a motorcycle, that's sex on wheels... "

The Geek Artist nodded excitedly. "You got that right, and you should see him in the leather..."

"Oh, my..."

With a clack and a hum, the garage door began to open, and the purr of a well tuned car, headlights flooding the area. Pulling into the empty space on the other side, the Bentley rumbled to a stop, and the driver stepped out, circling the vehicle.

Tasha 's jaw continued to hang. "And that?"

"Is his preferred method of enclosed transportation. Isn't is schweet?"

Opening the door and letting his passenger out, the driver waved at the two Hos having vehicle envy, waiting until DebLei cleared the door to close it behind her and walk to the trunk.

Walking up, grinning like the Grrl that just spent an hour eating Nutella (which she did), Deb waited until Tasha's jaw reattached itself. "Sizing up his engine, grrls?"

Jael grinned and snatched the bag from the driver's hand. "Always. Transfer?"

"Senior class."

"Oooh, the -good- dorms."

There was an evil grin shared among the trio in the garage.

~*~But the singer appeared to have laryngitis~*~

"Geez, yeah! Move on in, there's still some bottom floor ones... those are the best."

Perched in the Student Affairs Office, Deb, Jael, Shana and Space Dog were relaxing. The three women were knocking back caffeine, jumping topics like crazy, Space Dog working ardently at a toy under one of the Edwardian side tables.

"When do we sign up for classes?"

"Well, seniors get priority registering, and you don't need the 100 level courses. We gave you credit for those transfer units, and the General seemed intrigued, so there may be some... opportunity in that. Once the department chairs," Shana coughed in Jael's direction, "come up with their course listings, we'll get y'all set up."

Jael looked around innocently.

Space Dog grumbled at her toy.

"Sounds good."

Pausing to acknowledge the knock at the door, Shana raised her eyes. "Oh, David, perfect. Here, put these the rest of the way through and get Deb a room. One of the good ones."

Crossing the room, his goatee freshly trimmed, his hair combed back into a ponytail, the blue silk shirt accenting his not quite azure blue eyes, David caught the eye of the new Grrl examining him with a sharply raised eyebrow. "Is there anything you need?"

Deb blinked and immediately turned to the sub-Dean, who had her heeled boots propped up on her desk. "'David?'"

Shana glanced at Jael, who glanced at Space Dog, who glanced out the door. "Oooh, that's right.... this is for you." Pulling a paper from one of her drawers, she handed it across the desk with a pen. "Read and sign it, and I'll give you a tour later."

Examining the paper closely, Deb hesitated. "Non-disclosure statement?"

Jael did her Waif-Dande impression by throwing her hand against her forehead and feigning faintness.

"Dande can't know about it, or him," Shana pointed at the really tall secretary moving behind her chair to dig into a file cabinet, "for that matter, otherwise she'd go a bit weird on us."

"Based on what I've heard, shouldn't that be 'weirder?'"

Jael snickered.

Once again caught up in the odd terms, Deb pointed to the third section, "'Will not construct counterfeit Yoda beanie babies to sell on the black market?'"

All parties, including the superhero animal with the chew toy, winced.

"It's, um, a long story."

"I'll bet. I don't suppose you've cornered the market on the legit ones?"

Shana shuffled some papers around, trying to look busy.

Jael pointed at Space Dog, who raised her head, a rather mangled and slobber covered Yoda Beanie Baby with one arm missing wedged in her jaws. "Kinda."

"Oh, works for me then." Signing quickly and handing the paper over, Deb found herself staring at the secretary again. He couldn't be from the clone machine... could he? A rescue? A refugee? A former sex slave turned to office work?

Her reverie was broken when Shana stood, setting her boots down a little too hard on the trap door, sending a resonating clack through the floor. "Ya know... why don't you take her to her new flop, David. Give her a tour."

The secretary nodded. Got him out of filing, anyways.

Also standing, Deb smiled, but the smile quirked a bit when she realised, as the blue shirt clad man came around, he literally towered over her. Like by a foot. Maybe she would have to look into bigger boot heels...

Jael waited until the pair had left, David beginning to talk about all the different buildings, his voice bringing a mildly wanton smile to Deb's face as they walked down the hallway towards the exit.

"You're awfully calm now, weren't you just recently raging over a small furry creature?"

There was a mildly disturbing nod from behind the desk as Shana settled back into her leather upholstered chair. "Jackson and Perkins is kindly replacing my roses after they have the 'Ewok Clause' verified, and I'm halfway to done with all this paperwork."

"Halfway?"

"Yesterday I was one eighteenth, but I guess rage is good for this stuff."

" I guess so," Jael agreed.

Her hair slightly askew, Dieben staggered into the office. "Have you seen Wicket?"

Jael raised an eyebrow.

Space Dog stopped mutilating the Yoda toy.

Shana smiled slowly, a glint coming into her eyes. Clasping her hands together and setting them on the desk, she nodded. "Let's see, the last time I saw him was when I stuffed him rather unceremoniously in a small closet with Sith cat Sugar."

Dieben blinked. "Ah, okay, just curious."

Space Dog barked.

Jael wrinkled her nose at her faithful furry companion. "No, you may not go and watch."

Space Dog went back to her chew toy, now working hard at ripping the other arm off.

~*~Somewhere a record company executive was seeing dollar signs~*~

The taxi pulled up at the gates, admitting a figure clad in very bulky armour. Finding his shoulders catching on the door, he yanked until he broke loose of the vehicle frame, reaching back for his blaster.

As an afterthought, he handed the money over to pay for the ride, slamming the door and staring at the large gates before him

Inside was a job. Inside was a goal.

But for some odd reason there was no ominous rumble of thunder to announce his arrival.

Picking up the blaster and aiming it the general direction of the sky, he squeezed off a shot.

Ricocheting off two stars, a ring of a planet and the neverending-story-solution asteroid, finally striking the sound effects guy square in the shoulder, the blast had its desired effect.

A crash of thunder rumbled through the area, and even though no one could see it through the huge and bulky helmet, the newly introduced bad guy smiled.