Star Wars: The Next Generation (Gap)
by Helm Boy


Disclaimer: Of course they are owned by someone else and I am just entertaining myself without hope of remuneration in any galaxy no matter how far away.
Summary: A fairy tale fantasy thingo. Sort of.


In a nursing home in a galaxy far, far away...

"Hansy?"

A bored boy walked into the room, scanning it for crazy old ladies, and stepped up to a really old man sitting in a wheelchair.

"Yeah? What, Grandpa?"

"I need my water bottle."

The boy picked it up and handed it to the old man who took it into his claw-like hand.

"Hansy?"

"Yeah, Grandpa?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I knocked out the Death Star?"

"Yeah, Grandpa." //About 47 million times.//

"You know, Hansy, they gave credit to the wrong person."

"Yeah?" //zzzz//

"They said that Luke was the one but really, I was."

"No kidding. Well, I got homework, Grandpa," he said, sidling away.

"Anyway, it was just me and Darth Vader..."

Pause.

"Hansy?"

Pause.

"Damned kids. What the hell would they know?"

Sigh.

//The good old days. Shit. They sucked as badly then as they do now. Lordy, I wish I was a young kid again. I'd show them. I'd show them all...//

ZZZZZZZZZZZ...

STAR WARS REDUX: The Untold Story...

Swash! Buckle!

"Look! Its him! Han Solo! Our god and savior!"

People look up from squeezing tomatoes and dickering for chickens to goggle at the manly form of their god and hero, Han Solo.

"Fear not! I am here! I am ready to right wrongs! Fix evil doers! Kick Empire butt!"

"Hey! Kid!"

"Yes, righteous old lady. How can I help you?"

"Hold this sack." The righteous old lady begins to fill it with potatoes. Meanwhile, in a duel to the death, Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and professional virgin destroys the Death Star.

Three hours later in a cantina:

"Fill 'em up, boys," Luke said expansively as he swaggers to the bar. "I just offed another death star."

"Han! My friend and good comrade! Long time no see!"

Wookiee sounds: //He's been bagging spuds down at the A & P.//

"What did he say, Han?"

Han turns to fresh-faced young hero after giving death ray stare to Wookiee.

"He said I was too busy being a hero around here to mess with small potatoes like death stars."

"Gosh, Han, you really are a daring-do kind of guy. I'm so lucky to have you as a best friend."

"You sure are," Han said, slipping his arm around the nice waist of his adoring younger friend. "In fact, I would like to show you something I've wanted to show you for some time. How about we go upstairs and 'talk'. Hmmmm?"

"Sure, buddy of mine," Luke said, his eyes shining with affection and something else.

Up the stairs they go and into a room which Solo promptly locks. Tossing the key over his shoulder he strips until he is naked. Luke's eyes get big as can be with wonderment and surprise.

"My goodness, good companion, how naked you are." He walks to the keyhole and looks out. No one is around. Turning he gazes at Han's manly form.

"Better to feel you with, old chum," Han said.

"My, what a big ... thingie you have," Luke said gulping. //Hmmmmm.//

"Better to do... thingies with my dear."

Solo moved closer until the younger man was backed flat to the wall.

"So, Luke, show me yours," Han said his eyebrows waggling like a slut.

"Okay," Luke said brightening to the idea.

Han stepped back and walked to a nearby chair sitting and splaying his legs wide.

//Heh-heh-heh...this is *too* easy.//

For a moment Han sat watching Luke as he rummaged in his pockets for something. Frowning he pondered the naivete' of the younger man as he scratched his belly. All he wanted to do was get laid. Surely, *surely* they taught *that* in Jedi school.

Just then Luke stood straight up and grinned.

"Ta-da!"

"Wha?" Han asked sitting forward. He peered into Luke's hand and stared at a jar. He looked up and stared at a block head. Sitting back he mused on his misfortune to want to boff a dunderhead.

"Well?" Luke said grinning.

"Well what?" Han replied disgust filling his voice.

"Well, what do you think?" //Hope.//

"Its a jar." //Confusion.//

"Yes. I can see that." //Duh?//

Luke moved forward and sighed. "I love this jar, Han. Do you understand?"

//No.// "Yes." //No.//

Luke smiled a dazzling smile. "I knew you would understand."

//Shit.// "Thanks."

"Your welcome," Luke said suddenly pulling off his shirt. "Now, lets fuck."

Clothes flew everywhere and the next thing Solo knew he was on his hands and knees playing "horsey" with his bestest little buddy. They had sex on the floor, they had sex on the bed, they had sex in the bathtub of the seedy room that Solo rented.

Sex. Sex. Sex.

Lying on his back, his legs some place behind his ears, Han Solo stared at the ceiling as the young Luke Skywalker made mincemeat of his ass. Pounding like a sledgehammer on an anvil, the young Jedi knight made a point of showing the mercenary young stud muffin a thing or two about the force.

"Lu--uu--uu--uke?"

"Pant. Pant. Pant. What?!"

"Whe--ee--ee--en do--oo--oo I ge--ee--et on to--oo--oo--p?"

For a moment the younger man stopped and then he looked into the dark eyes of his love slave.

"Top? Since when are you a top?"

"I am *so* a top," Han replied, his dignity as offended as could be. "Let me show you."

"Let me finish."

"Oh. Okay."

With that the dynamic duo, scourge of the Death Star pounded their way into the history books.

Ten minutes later...

"So, where do you get this idea that I will *ever* let you top, Solo?"

Han looked over at the younger man, puffing a cigarette and leaning languidly against the back of the bed. He sighed.

"Turnabout is fairplay, Skywalker," Han said lamely.

Skywalker snorted and took a drink from the bottle of bourbon he found under the bathroom sink.

//God, I hope this is bourbon.// *Swig*.

//*I* will *never* tell him that isn't bourbon.// *Sigh*.

Skywalker put down the bottle and snuffed the cigarette out in his belly button. Crawling up the bed until he covered the mercenary with his entire body, he peered down into Solo's blood shot and entirely turned on eyes.

"I know that you do the top/domination thing to get the girls even though I know you are a crossdressing, submissive, flagellating pile of sissy boy. *I* on the other hand play the clear-eyed, hope-filled, transcendent hero- kid for the preteen set when you know I am a leather-wearing, boozaholic, fetish-biting, rent-boy chasing, fez-loving, raging homo- queen."

Solo gulped as he felt the hot breath of the lips so close to his. He was totally in thrall of the younger man, the dominant-topping-bear/ leather/knuckle walker currently rubbing himself all over his own glistening body.

//Hurt me. Baby.// "You don't scare me."

//Give me time, rent boy.// "We'll see."

With that Luke rose and walked to the closet and whipped out Solo's valise. Solo rose and cried out, "No! Please!" //Yes! Yes! Yes!//

Opening the valise he tore out the garment and accouterments inside and threw them at Solo's feet.

"I rest my case."

Solo rose and walked slowly to the younger man, their chests heaving with mutual passion.

"Put them on." //Slave.//

"I don't have anything for you." //Darling.//

"Doesn't matter. Call me Master." //Or Ted.//

"Yes, Master." //Ted.//

In seconds Han dressed and returned to the room dazzling the languid young stud lounging on the bed sucking on his hookah and scratching his flat stomach. At the entrance of the vision he called Solo his cock stood at attention in a salute.

//Mercy.//

"How do I look?" Solo asked nervously smoothing his frock.

"You look good. Come here, Han. Now." //Hurry.//

"Um," Han stammered nervously. "I have one little request, Master." He actually blushed.

"What, slave?" //God. He can still blush. Rowrrrllll...//

Han smoothed the huge skirt of his gown and pushed his tiara up with his wand.

"Call me Glinda."

*POUNCE*!

[We cut here for taste. After all it is not often that a religious figure of some stature is caught boffing a storybook figure. I will suggest some light reading for you while you wait for the festivities to com--, I mean conclude. How about "War and Peace" or "Travels With Charley"? Or, if you prefer a more science fiction selection, I personally recommend "Pathways" by Jeri Taylor. I cannot begin to tell you how much it means to me to have *the* definitive Star Trek book, canon if you will, to use for reference. Of course, none of the mothers of the main characters are named *and* Caldik Prime *never* happened *and* Chakotay's spirit guide is a *snake*! *A fucking snake*! But, I digress. Back to the story...]

"Hand me that needle, slave."

Han Solo handed his lord and master the needle to his heroin fix. Sitting on the floor, his tiara wrapped around his neck, he reviewed the last two hours of his life with a renewed sense of wonderment.

He had found his one true love. They both liked crinolines. Luke like to top, heroin, bourbon from the bottle, playing 'horsey', leather, self-mutilation, *doing it* on motorcycles and 'role playing'.

Han, on the other hand, liked getting it in the ass, screaming like a dog, spanking, wearing girl's underwear and calling Luke 'daddy'.

They were a match made in heaven. If there was one in this f*****g universe which I don't think that there is. But, I digress.

"So, what now?" Han asked changing into the bunny suit that he had made from bathroom towels and the curtains at Luke's request.

"We give them what they want. You be the wiseassed, mouthy creep in tight pants and I will be the younger, better looking, wonder bread, foolhardy boyish hero."

//I'm getting screwed here.// "Okay."

AND SO IT WAS.

Ahem. Back to the nursing home...

"Hansy?"

The gnarly old man, Han Solo, called out to his grandson. The boy, leaving nearly as soon as he had arrived, was no where to be found.

"Damn. Damned kid. What now?"

Just then the sounds of a walker and scuffs could be heard and a bent over gnarly old man joined Solo.

"'Bout time, you old fool," he snarled at the new arrival.

"Buzz off, Solo, or I'll make you sorry you were born," Luke Skywalker intoned menacingly or at least as menacingly as he could without teeth.

"With what? Your dick?" Han Solo cackled and howled. "If you tried I'd have you arrested."

"What for, you old fool?" Skywalker answered back snippily as he settled in the rocker next to his long-time partner and lover.

"Assault with a dead weapon," Solo said cackling.

Standing in the shadows, shaking his old fuzzy head, Chewbacca sighed. What a wild trip it has all been. Hobbling over to the fire he lowered his old ragged butt into another chair. Sighing with delight he relaxed to slip into a nap.

For a moment it was silent and then Solo poked Skywalker.

"Hey!"

"*What*?!"

Solo smiled. "Did I ever tell you how I blew up the Death Star?"

//Damn.// "Where the hell is my light saber?!"

Chewbacca pulled bits of hair off his ragged- assed coat and stuffed them into his ears, leaning back in his chair and anticipating another day in paradise at the old folks home.

TBC?


The end. Sincere apologies to anyone who loves the above characters. They just needed a make- over. :0)

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