Title: The Winds of War 2
Author: Shana Nolan
Rating: MCCXIX
Summary: Grab those weapons, Grrls. And grab your bags, Diebin.
Disclaimer: I own no one, and prolly not myself either. Don't sue. (yep, the shortest disclaimer in history

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"So, do you think it's wrong that we left without telling them?"

Shana, leaning back in the seat, moving a piece across the board, shrugged. "I left a message with Crow. And a note tacked on the outside of my door that says, and I quote, 'Students-- new transfers automatically default to frosh level. General-- wow, you remember where my office is? Crow-- if you're reading this note and not inside this office working, you're a pasta strainer. Other staff-- on Alderaan; 3 guesses, first 2 don't count. Edmund-- touch anything in here and you'll find Revolutionary France more peaceful. General Max-- saw the family, they say hi, don't tell Darry any rope burn jokes. X-- what are you doing in plain sight?! Commo-- you're late! What, was Rome burning again?'"

Diebin, using her Naboo guard rook to take a pawn, smiled. "Better than I did."

"So what did you do?"

"I pushed my chair in, readjusted my tiara and left."

"What about Normal Al?"

Diebin snorted. "Duh. We're going to Alderaan. George is there. I even have the approved EA form."

"So basically you left him and his accordion to fend for himself on campus, huh?"

"Yep."

Shana raised an eyebrow. "If he plays the Titanic song, you may have sweep his remaining pieces into the gardens for fertiliser."

Adjusting her catsuit, the other Ho nodded.

"So, girls, how ya doing back here?"

Diebin grinned, enjoying the way the belt hung off the pirate's belt. "Inventing new Ho rules for your chess board thingy. Wanna play, Han?"

He leaned against the metal wall, making both Hos pause. "Like what?"

"Oh, like for every move a boy makes, a Ho makes three."

Han raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"Oh, yeah," Shana pointed at the little Padmé action figure, "the point is to capture the Queen, not the King, and she still has her kick ass move-anywhere moves. The King is..."

"Bantha poodoo," the catsuit clad Ho chimed in.

"Okay. Well, that works, I'll be in the cockpit if you ladies need me... for whatever."

Walking uneasily out of the bay where the two HSU escapees had camped out, Han paused, looked their way, and then walked the rest of the way back.

"I love the smell of jealousy in the morning."

Diebin snorted. "Speak for yourself. If I wasn't so set on kicking your ass in this game, I'd go show him what a cockpit is really for."

"Sounds good to me. Jedi Knight threatens King."

"Hey! Fine. Queen takes Gungan pawn and threatens Jedi Knight at the same time. Hahah!"

"Hey now! Don't make me get medieval on your ass with Mace's lightsabre."

Diebin glanced up. "New rule?"

Shana shrugged. "Why not."

~*~

Judy stumbled in, carrying a saltshaker, a jock strap hanging off her head.

"Whoooaaaah, that's clean, right?"

The bartender shot Dorotea a dirty look. "If it isn't I'm taking a Lysol bath."

Both turning around as a door flew open and a rush of leather flew by them, they blinked as soon as they realised that they were staring at the Dean.

In a Xena outfit.

"Caeryn?" Judy hesitated, pulling the support garment off her head and sitting down on the couch, trying to forget the whoop of triumph the WC boys let out when their ammunition hit her.

Tugging at the leather ends, pulling them a little further down to cover her ass, Caeryn smiled. "I'm going to help General Max win this war."

"By making his loincloth seem too tight?" Dorotea drawled.

Wincing as she adjusted the armour, hoping that one wrong move wouldn't accidentally make her an Amazon, Caeryn shrugged. "We'll drive those boys back to where they belong and banish the evil little Hades-wannabe back to the sand ball where he came from! Ayeyeyeyeyeyeyeyeyeyeye!"

And with that she bolted out the door, brandishing one of Emmy's spare tiaras like a round killing thingy.

Judy blinked. "Wonder if she wears that for the General."

Dorotea seconded the blink. "Which one?"

~*~

Han's voice echoed over the intercom. "Okay, ladies, we're here."

Gathering the accordion case she filched from Normal Al and dragging it across the deck with effort, Diebin pointed at the stack of other luggage. "You going to be able to carry all that?"

Shana, sliding her Versaci jacket back on and yawning, nodded. "Sure, most of them are empty."

"Empty?"

"Yeah, for the return trip back. What? You think I'm packing lots of stuff when I get to go shopping on Alderaan?"

Diebin nodded, starting to turn the corner, snagging the accordion case on an exposed girder. "Damn hunk of junk! Gimme!"

Shouldering the two empty duffel bags and leashing up the bags with wheels, Shana strolled by. "Need help?"

"No," the other Ho grunted, "I need... a... aaaah!" Falling backwards as the girder snapped, the accordion case landing in her lap as she sprawled out on the deck, Diebin growled and took the moment to study the ceiling of the Millennium Falcon. Served her right to let the sexy, sauntering space pirate convince her into having him escort them when they had a perfectly normal transport with complementary meals booked.

"You okay? That thing looks heavy."

"Yeah, well you know Al. Nothing but the best for his instruments. This is the bomb-proof model."

Shana paused, picturing someone intentionally setting dynamite under an accordion. "We really need a better secretary pool."

Diebin grunted, heaving the monstrous case off of her. "You're telling me?"

~*~

"I am not a catapult!"

Emmy growled and pointed a finger at the Bot. "It's either that or a pasta strainer."

Crow's ping-pong eyes widened. "Bombs away!"

~*~

Dande, Lynn, Lynn's dark skinned guy, and Dande's OMG-could-you-be-taller guy stood just behind Cal, Vocab Man, Tom Servo and Tasha.

The little red Bot shook an arm at one of the WC boys. "I plug my nose at you, you son of a window dresser! Tttthhbbb! Ptthhhbb!"

"Take that, sissy boys!"

"Grrr!"

Cal brandished his Big K lightsabre.

"Somehow, this isn't what I expected from a battle scene."

Dande scooted a little closer to bulk of Germanic male. "Half dressed sweaty guys, weapons, and dramatic music in the background, what more could you ask for?"

Lynn looked around. General Max had his yummy armour on, shouting orders to the frosh Hos, and her own choice of gladiating male was still 65% nekkid. "What music?"

The two guys exchanged looks. "Shouldn't we be helping?"

The Wench retrieved a remote control from somewhere in her billowy (and yet still clean, despite the battle) dress, pressing a little button, the swell of a trumpet fanfare filling the air suddenly.

"Let's go help Maximus."

"No!" Dande suddenly shrieked, latching an arm around the bodybuilder looking chap, his posture undisturbed by her sudden attack. "You can't go! You have saved me from the tower and I will now save you from the terrors of battle! I have grapes!"

Lynn, appreciating the sudden inclusion of the wind section, nodded her head. "Oh, this music. It's nice."

Tom's voice rose up over a particularly inspired flourish of violins. "I wave my private parts at your aunties, you cheesy lot of second hand electric donkey bottom knnnnnnnnngggotts!"

~*~

Standing on the sidelines, his arm crossed over his impeccably de-linted waistcoat, the dark haired man watched as the battle ensued, the Hos currently throwing "momma's boy" insults at the attacking WC boyos.

"Mister B, aren't we going to join in?"

"Of course not Balders, we could be hit by some of those disgusting knickers, and I for one have enough issue touching the ones I get paid to wash."

The walking excuse for a Brillo pad shifted his feet. "Oh, but don't you want the glory of saving a damsel in distress so you can be famous like that chap with the long hair and beard dressed like a monk?"

The butler's eyes narrowed at his dogsbody. "Firstly, the usual 'damsel in distress' is the one screaming 'podrace that, asthma boy.' Secondly, the man who you are referring to died. I have no intention to do that, Baldrick, but if you're volunteering, I'll get you a lightsabre."

"Do they come turnip coloured, Mister B?"

Edmund sighed and watched as a vat of screwdrivers was poured down on a particularly irate batch of WC frat boys. "There's got to be something better to do than stand here and watch the reenactment of the village idiot's pissing party."

"You could always go lookin' in that diamond mine they got."

Money hungry eyes widened significantly. "The diamond mine..."

"Right jolly amount of sparklies there, I've heard. Bet you could buy back that throne of Sardinia with 'em."

"Oh forget Sardinia, Baldrick, I've got better plans. We'll get their diamonds, buy Estrogen County and market it as the hottest thing next to fire. People will pour in and spend their cash and I'll be stinking rich."

"Isn't fire rather hot, Mister B?"

Pausing to consider the shortest way to dispose of a body, Edmund shifted his gaze to the serf at his side. "About as hot as your brain is runny. Now let's go while they're still distracted."

~*~

This was getting suspicious. Wanker College was totally abandoned, and there was neither sight nor sound of his wandering apprentice. Something was wrong, and his bad feeling had elevated to a level two horrible feeling after searching through the empty dorms.

General Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed, and gritted his teeth. Surely he was never this bad an apprentice. He never wandered off to take up some cause...

Then again.

Opening a door and finding himself in a complex that could only be the sports area, three times larger than the library, art and music wings, of course, he froze when he hit the locker room.

Nothing could smell this... unholy. Holding his breath and stepping over the stack of damp, puce coloured towels, he came upon an open locker, a pair of sneakers hanging dejectedly off the lock, a bunch of pictures taped to the metal wall.

Daring to take a closer look, the General's gaze hardened. He knew these pictures. He knew the girls in these pictures.

They were his girls. They were coveting his girls here.

Yanking the cut out publicity shots form the brochure and folding them up so he could stash them in a secret betcha-didn't-know-he-had-one pocket, he stalked out of the locker room, through the football field, beyond the baseball diamond, past the Olympic sized pool, the basketball hoops, the lacrosse/soccer/rugby/field hockey area.

Getting within sight of the gates, he paused. His Padawan had to be here-- it was just a matter of finding him.

And, in the meantime, any pictures of his girls. His Hos did NOT belong anywhere near the WC, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

~*~

Standing near the left flank of the HSU... legion, the OG shouted orders to the Hos. "Advance the line! Raise your, er, shields so you won't get hit!"

Kymira raised an eyebrow, waited a few minutes and blocked her face with an economy sized Nutella jar.

Caeryn stormed into view suddenly, her leather skirt flying behind her, "Make way! We'll get these bastards yet!"

The student Hos paused, observing the new look of their Dean as she came to a stop next to Maximus, using the proximity to get a good look at the cut of his lacerna.

Pausing to savour the cut of the leather bustier, the OG reminded himself that he had more pressing things to do. "Can I help you?"

"Well, yes," she started, "you could take off your clothes and we'll all be happy."

The Other General pursed his lips, his comment cut off as a pair of jockeys landed between his and Caeryn's feet. "Defend yourselves! Counterattack!"

"I love it when he gives orders." Unhooking the spare tiara from her waist, the Dean brandished it, watching as a fresh round of undergarments came flying into their ranks, pulling her arm back...

Watching as a pair of leopard skin patterned boxers was caught by the glittery boomerang and sent back over to enemy lines, using a hand to quickly wipe a tear of pride from his eye, Normal Al broke into the Xena: Warrior Princess theme.

~*~

Slinking back into the admin building, avoiding the pair of Hos as they bickered over one of the parts of the timeshare agreement, Xanatos pushed the stray locks from his face as he eyed the hallway. If he could make it there, he could find an office, call his corporate jet and dodge this little colonial war before he got marched back out into it.

"We've discussed this."

"No," Dorotea began, "this little clause about weekly medical checkups superceding all other arranged times is..."

"Clever? Brilliant?" Darry supplied, her eye barely catching movement off to the right.

"Devious. Can't I teach him new tongues in the library?"

"Only during sanctioned times."

Breaking from his eavesdropping, the grey side rogue wandered down the hall, considering which door to open and find a phone behind. His midnight blue eye drawn to a note plastered on one door, he paused to read it, suddenly hearing sounds from behind it.

Perfect. If he had a hostage they would certainly let him off the grounds. Opening the door and stepping in, Xanatos froze in his tracks. Sitting at the huge desk, making faces at the computer monitor as he hit buttons frantically on the little controller, was a guy dressed like a Roman Emperor.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. Who are you?"

"Friend of the student affairs director. You?"

"Friend of the clinic manager... and librarian."

Sticking his tongue out a little as he slammed down on a button, the younger dark one in the room ignored Xanatos as he walked to the desk and picked up the phone, his leather trousers glinting in the light from the fireplace.

"Your name?"

"What?"

"What's your name?"

Xanatos pushed hair out of his eyes to stare at the game playing 19 yr old. "Xanatos. You?"

"Commodus."

The fallen apprentice nodded as he dialed out, waiting for the ringing of the phone in the jet hangar. Greeted by silence, he hissed.

"Test that might, you stupid ninja!"

Xanatos looked up, meeting the other's eyes.

"Oh, sorry, just playing Mortal Kombat."

Still getting nothing from the phone, slamming down the receiver, Xanatos took a chance. "Phones are out, huh?"

"That other college cut them," the emperor said, pounding on the controller again.

"They've cut my ties to my Corporation? Oh, this is intolerable." Suddenly getting an idea, the grey one smiled. "Want to help me stop these WC freaks?"

"It involve violence and defeat on the enemy's behalf?"

"Probably."

Quickly setting down the controller, turning off the computer, the black armoured emperor hopped off the chair and walked out in front of the desk. "Let's go then."

~*~

"Diebin! George miss Diebin!"

Running full speed up to the ramp of the Falcon, tackling the catsuited Ho in a crushing hug, the jungle king bounced them around happily. "George! miss! Diebin! George! miss! Diebin!"

Diebin, trying to not get dizzy, shot her fellow Ho a help-me-or-die look.

Standing non-chalantly on the ramp, breathing Alderaani air, Shana smiled and crossed her arms as she spotted the tall figure, trying not to laugh as he hurried over, setting a hand on George of the Outer Office's shoulder. "Let her breathe, man."

Setting her down, he nodded his head and grinned. "George miss Diebin."

Diebin staggered back over towards the ramp, clutching one of the support legs. "He's been working out."

"Probably not how he'd like to," Shana murmured, striking a pose as her former secretary looked her over. "Hello David. How's Alderaan?"

"All the better since you arrived. Bail says to take the guest rooms in the big house, and that dinner will be ready at sundown."

"Diebin get big room. George show Diebin."

Walking cautiously down the ramp once more, lugging the accordion case, the Ho flashed a smile. "Big room?"

"Big cave room, room for lots of vines to swing on."

"Okay, so this does have potential." Handing the case to George, Diebin rolled her eyes as the jungle king hefted it easily, walking unencumbered. Following the loinclothed ass as it returned back to the house, she waved. "See you later!"

"Did you bring everything?"

Shana waved back. "Only if you missed me."

Adjusting the blue silk shirt, the former secretary nodded. "Still fawning after the General?"

"Hos don't fawn, and I'll take that as a yes. Besides, which one?"

David paused. "There's more than one?"

"Of course. What, you haven't seen the movie yet?"

"What movie?"

Grabbing the satchel and one of the wheeled cases, Shana patted his hand. "Well, there's this guy named Maximus, half dressed, sweaty, looks good in leather--"

"And the difference between him and the first one?"

"Max baby isn't Jedi, duh. He's a General turned slave turned gladiator turned hero."

"Oh."

"And there's the rat bastard with the great eyes and hair, not to mention the really cool armour."

David rolled his eyes.

"Oh, and Lucilla. She's a Ho. Cool clothes too."

"Is she half dressed?"

There was a pause. "Compared to the guys? Nope."

"Dammit. Are you sure I have to see this?"

"Yes, whiner boy."

"Ho."

"Thankyouverymuch."

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