This is a work of fan fiction. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No insult is intended and no profits were made from this story.

The Greater Antilles
Part Twenty-Two
by Verlaine

Meanwhile, on the other side of the island...

A young woman, dressed in a blue shirt and khaki shorts, lowered the sails of her boat, 'Rogue Seas.' When she had first heard of this year's gathering of the WAAS, she had returned to her native Chicago to bring her father's boat--renamed of course--around to the Pacific Ocean. Finally, after two months of sailing, she had arrived at her destination...or at least she thought she had. Her GPS had malfunctioned, so she had been forced to return to the forgotten skills of sextant and math to determine her location. Arithmetic had never been her strong suit, and algebra, such as this, was living hell.

After she anchored the boat off the coast in deeper waters, she got her kayak into the water and began to paddle ashore. Once on the beach, she began to walk around the island. Certainly she'd see someone. Five minutes later, she spotted three tiny figures playing in the sand, accompanied by several larger beings. As she got closer, the three minute creatures turned into Ewoks. They ran over to her playfully, and one clutched onto her leg. She picked it up, surprised at its light weight. Suddenly, one of the men turned around. "Emic, stop bothering people," he said, heading over to the newcomer. "He's not bothering me," she replied, tickling Emic's nose.

"Oh, well, in that case, keep him...he's not mine. By the way, I'm Wedge."

"I'm Verlaine. Nice to meet you," she said, clutching the Ewok with one hand and offering the other to him. "Where's Tycho?"

"Back up with the X-Wings, moping. No one will talk to him. Emic will show you the way."

"Thanks," she replied, putting Emic down. As she followed him through the trees, she spoke to him. "At last I've found someone shorter than me. It's so hard being 4'9". Everyone looks down on me, but I suppose they do that to you, too."

At last the two came into a clearing and Emic pointed over to a spot on the ground. There, leaning against a tree, napping, sat the man of her dreams. Verlaine was, for perhaps the first time in her life, speechless.

Continued in Part Twenty-Three