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At first, Hobbie thought the Ewok doll was hilarious.
Wedge had sent him a holovid of the Wraiths’ payback prank on Wes, and Wes had sent him the flight recorder audio of Wedge playing Lieutenant Kettch – luckily, as Rogue Squadron’s XO, Hobbie had his own office, so he hadn’t disturbed anyone by laughing until he cried.
He hadn’t seen the doll in person until Wraith Squadron had finished training and been sent off on their own. It was surprisingly lifelike – Hobbie had been on Endor, after the battle, and the doll certainly resembled his memories of real Ewok, down to the texture of its synthetic fur and the mischievous glint in its eyes.
Wedge probably thought that the whole naked-in-public thing would have permanently deterred Wes from leaving Kettch around, but Hobbie could have told him otherwise. It popped up in people’s cockpits, in the mess hall, in the front row of pilot briefings… After a few weeks, the Rogues had all gotten used to it, either ignoring the doll or absently moving it if it was in their way.
It wasn’t quite so funny as time went on, not to anybody except Wes, that was, and after about a month Hobbie really didn’t think too much about his leaving it around.
But here, he was drawing the line.
“Oh, no way,” said Hobbie, ducking out of the way when Wes went to kiss him hello. “No.”
Wes blinked. “Huh?”
“Kettch,” said Hobbie.
The Ewok doll sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, where it seemed to be looking right at him.
“What about him?” said Wes, leaning in again.
Hobbie took hold of his shoulders, pushing Wes firmly out of reach. “I am not doing anything while it’s in the room.”
“What? C’mon, Hobbie, he’s a doll.”
“A creepy, lifelike doll.”
Wes sighed. “Okay. I’ll put him in the closet.”
“That’s worse!” said Hobbie. “Then it’ll be like it’s watching us, but secretly.”
“That is…” Wes began, then sighed again. “Fine. I’ll put him in Wedge’s office. But if Wedge is in there, I’m telling him you told me to.”
“Fine,” said Hobbie.
“Fine.”
Wes still seemed a little grumpy when he returned without Kettch, but Hobbie was able to distract him easily enough.
They were both off-duty the next day and Hobbie woke slowly, resisting consciousness for a moment – until he saw the shape at the foot of the bed.
Kettch sat in the chair, now facing the bed, holding a sheet of red flimsi cut into a heart, with Wedge’s lopsided handwriting that read, Kettch loves Wes + Hobbie.
“What?” said Wes, groggily, then spotted the doll. “Sithspit, that’s creepy.”
Hobbie snorted. “Told you.”
THE END