Title: Do You Take Accredit Cards?
Author: Delphi (and a teeny tiny bit of Darry's shite added)
Warnings: Bonus crossover silliness
Disclaimer: The General and a few others belong to George, the quotes belong to Shakespeare, and us grrls, of course, always and forever belong only to our wonderful selves :)

~*~*~
By the pricking of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes…
~*~*~

There was a wall. In the wall there was a gate. Beside the gate there was a bronze plaque engraved in beautiful copper-plate script: “Ho State University: Home of a General, a Wench and some Hos.” Handwritten additions in less formal media – crayon, glitter paint, Post-It notes in a rainbow of colors, purple tempera – summarized other residents, among them an elf, two emperors from opposite ends of time, a Greysider, a clutch of vampires, and a retired Death Eater. One note could not be read clearly, the ink having run badly due to damp, but appeared to say, “Willing Torpor.”

A long and somewhat sinister-looking black Mercedes drove slowly up to the gate and stopped. The driver, a middle-aged man with glasses, a trim grey beard, and a hat, looked dubiously at the sign. A short plump woman in Pepto-Bismol pink leaned across him from the passenger side and examined the sign closely. “I know General Kenobi retired to run a university, but…are you quite sure this is the place, Dr. Jones?” she inquired in a suspicious tone. “Educational Decree 342.5/J-9 specifies the font size, format, and general appearance of university signs. I believe this violates all twenty-three paragraphs.”

“Junior gave me most detailed directions, Dolores.” said the driver in a rich Scottish- accented voice. He consulted a small map with a large X in the center; slightly to the left and above the X, tiny letters added helpfully, “Here be orcs.” “He has always tended towards the unorthodox; I admit it would not surprise me to find him working here. It certainly says ‘Ho State University’ at the top.”

“Obi-wan is here,” said a sepulchral voice from the depths of the back seat. “The Force is with him.”

“Well,” said the woman briskly, settling back into her seat. “Let’s get on with it then.”

~*~*~
Marcellus:
  Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Horatio:
  Heaven will direct it.
~*~*~

Four weeks earlier:

“Delphi will direct it,” said the Dean.

“The hell you say,” Delphi looked panicked and annoyed at the same time. “Wait a second, I don’t want this job! Surely there’s someone more qualified?” She tried to catch Darry’s attention, but the Nurse was busy with the latest issue of Seekers Revealed! and steadfastly refused to meet her eyes.

The Dean looked around the table. Laure was on her fifth amaretto sour. Ellie was sporting yet another bandage on her arm from the latest addition to the HSU Experimental Xenobiology Lab. Dande had spent the entire meeting practicing standing up and sitting down gracefully, with just the right amount of flounce in her skirt and delicate innuendo in her Deadly Doe Eyes. Kendra and Judy were dripping wet, having come straight from refereeing a vicious water polo competition between half the rugby team and one-third of the Fellowship. The Librarian wasn’t there at all, having begged off the meeting on the lame excuse of cataloging Xani’s video game collection.

“Nope,” the Dean said. “You’re it. Right, now that’s settled, let’s go shopping.”

Delphi stood up. “I refuse. I categorically REFUSE to do this,” she said furiously. “I was on the reaccreditation team for Starfleet Academy as a student and it was pure hell. The team never believes anything you say and their only goal is to try to prove you’re unqualified so they can have the fun of stripping your accreditation and making your degrees worthless.”

The Dean sighed. She really wanted to get back to examining her new collection of Clive Owen screencaps. “They’re already pretty worthless so I don’t see the conflict. Please?”

“NO! It’s huge amounts of work. I came here to have an expense account and lots of sex, not to work. I was told it was a union job.”

The Nurse leaned over and whispered something to the Dean, who brightened visibly. “Really?” she said. “That easy?” She eyed the recalcitrant IT Girl. “You can have Looshus for a week.”

“Oh.” Delphi dropped back into her chair with a thud. “Um…OK.”

The Dean cocked an eyebrow at Darry, who winked at her.

“But I can’t do it alone,” Delphi added hastily. “I get help, right? I mean, there’s at least seven sections to write and then it has to be cross-referenced, and there’s the layout, and the table of contents has to be generated…” Her voice trailed off as the interesting technical challenges began to seduce her, but she was brought rudely back to earth by the Dean’s next words.

“Oh sure,” said the Dean airily. “You can have Cal.”

~*~*~
What a piece of work is a man…
~*~*~

“You really are a piece of work, you know that?” Delphi said as Cal tried for the third time to stick his braid back on with a piece of Sellotape.

“Wow, thanks!” Cal said enthusiastically. “I love working on IT stuff with you! It’s so cool the way the computers make that noise and then they tell you answers and stuff! And you’re so smart!”

“Look, you just make sure that you put in those extra study hours with Lupin. You’ve got four weeks. We have to have something academic to show the accreditation team. Work on whatever you want, just make sure you’ve got it down solid.” Delphi was not hopeful, but since none of the other students were willing to provide a demonstration to the team, she was stuck with Cal.

“Yeah, of course, I can do that, no problem! I’ve been working really hard! It’s so cool you’re letting me be part of this!” He bounced eagerly. The braid fell off and resumed its impersonation of an unhealthy snake.

Delphi added something to the list lying on the table before her and took a large swig of her Lagavulin. She looked at Cal thoughtfully. “Are you related to Colin Creevey, by any chance?”

“Sure! Sure!” Cal bounced in his seat in excitement. “He’s my third cousin twice removed on my mother’s sister’s step-uncle’s side! Wow! How’d you know??”

“A lucky guess.” Taking another gulp of the smoky whiskey, she looked down at her list, headed, “THINGS TO DO BEFORE ACCREDITATION TEAM ARRIVES.” Item number 1 was “Hide orcs.” Item number 235 was “Hide Cal.” Somewhere between those two, Delphi knew, she had to put together proof that Ho State University deserved the renewal of the prestigious five-star rating that it had proudly advertised on its brochures for the past six years.

It was not going to be easy.

“So what is this accreditation?” Cal asked, bright-eyed as a monkey. “What’s it for?”

“Accreditation,” said Delphi, as if quoting, “is a process in which certification of competency, authority, or credibility is presented.”

No, it was not going to be easy at all.

~*~*~
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax
And melt in her own fire.
~*~*~

Delphi banged on the Clinic door. “Darry!” she shouted. “I KNOW you’re in there. Open this door!!!”

Silence, with a hint of naughtiness.

Delphi made her voice as severe as possible. “Darry. Are you doing someone you shouldn't be doing in there?”

Silence, this time uncomfortable and faintly guilty.

Delphi crossed her arms and tapped her leather-booted foot irritably on the floor. “Look, you’re the one who told the Dean how to get round me. It’s your fault I’m stuck putting this stupid accreditation document together. Now open. The damn. Door.”

A scuffling noise, loud whispering ( “Just steal anything else you need from Dor or Laure…”), the sound of a door slamming. The Clinic door opened. “What?” said the Nurse innocently.

“You apparently forgot our meeting. Now. In the pub. If you can manage to tear yourself away from your…work.”

The Nurse glared at her. “I’ll have you know that I'm…er…restocking the damn Clinic in preparation for this inspection,” she trailed off lamely.

“Just get your ass to the pub,” Delphi threw over her shoulder as she turned away. “And put some clothes on, the Hufflepuff Quidditch robes don’t do anything for your complexion. You’re a Winter, for God’s sake.”

~*~*~
Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
And quaff carouses to our mistress' health,
And do as adversaries do in law,
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.
~*~*~

“OK, look, we’ve got three weeks left to put this documentation together,” Delphi said. “The first section is about the campus services – food, health, physical fitness.”

Judy placed five coasters on the bar and aligned them meticulously. She nudged the last one a millimeter to the right, moved the second one an infinitesimal amount down, then looked up and smiled brightly. “Drinks first?”

“Yes!” Darry, Jael and Laure chorused loudly. The pub was already crowded and noisy.

“Look, can we just get this over with and then drink?” Delphi said in a pained voice. The other three gave her an appalled look

“Wait??” “To drink??? “Are you mad????” they said in turn. Judy returned and set down margaritas in front of them, aligning them carefully in the exact center of each coaster. She placed a large Lagavulin in front of Delphi. “You look like you need it,” she said sympathetically.

“OK,” Delphi shouted over the din. “Judy, can you do the section on food services?”

Judy set a bowl of Chex Mix on the bar. “Sure, sure, no problem. More drinks?” she added, noticing their empty glasses.

“Yes!” Laure, Darry and Jael shouted gleefully. Judy disappeared.

Delphi frowned. “Laure, we need something on the English department, can you take that? I need that by tomorrow.”

Laure was gazing sadly into her empty glass. “Huh?” Behind them Jack Sparrow began leading the rugby club in a rousing chorus of “Charlotte the Harlot,” while Aragorn and Legolas remained aloof, no doubt wondering if Jack were hiding a ring or two under all that hat.

“English department,” Delphi said through clenched teeth. “Poetry. Literature. Creative writing. Something.”

Judy returned and set fresh drinks in front of each of them. Laure took a large swig and looked immediately better. “Ahhhh….that’s tasty.” She smacked her lips. “Oh yes, I’m sure I can whip up something.”

Delphi looked at her list. “Jael, can you write up something about the physical education offerings?”

The Ho nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get Kendra to help, I think we can include swimming and boating without stretching things too much.”

“OK, but don’t mention the pirates. And tell them they’ll have to anchor behind the pyramid while the team is here, we can’t risk their being seen.” The rugby team had reached the verse about the rattlesnake and were holding forth vigorously. Delphi raised her voice. “Darry, I need you to write up something about the Clinic, how it’s state of the art, all the necessary facilities, etc etc etc.”

“What?” Darry shouted.

“She's handy, she's bandy, she screws in the street,” roared the rugby team energetically.

“THE CLINIC!” Delphi shouted. “STATE OF THE ART!”

Darry nodded. “OH YES, YOU MEAN LIE!”

“Whenever you meet her she's always in heat,” the team added with great gusto, rattling the glassware behind the bar.

“Another drink?” Judy yelled.

“Look,” Delphi shouted in frustration. “Losing the accreditation means losing students which means losing money, which means no expense accounts, which means we will no longer be able to afford the care and feeding of assorted MEN! Do you GET IT?”

The others looked at her, then at each other, then back at Delphi. “So…another drink?” asked Judy.

“Yes!” Jael, Darry and Laure chorused happily.

Delphi closed her eyes and slumped forward in despair, resting her forehead on the bar. Instantly a profound silence fell. Opening one eye, she noticed that the rugby team was staring at her frozen open-mouthed in horror, and with a gasp of recollection she jerked upright just as Judy’s Louisville Slugger whistled through the space where her head had been seconds before. The team took a collective breath and then, led by Jack Sparrow’s enthusiastic conducting, launched into “Barnacle Bill the Sailor” at a deafening level. Delphi slammed her Lagavulin and set the glass down gingerly.

“Another round?” asked Judy, the madness slowly fading from her eyes as she stowed the bat behind the bar.

“Hell yes!” Darry, Laure, and Jael shouted. Delphi looked at them, then said, “Oh, what the hell.”

~*~*~
What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.
~*~*~

Delphi fixed Ellie, Emmy, and Dor with a piercing eye. The hangover was not helping her mood. “OK. Academics. We’ve got two weeks.”

Emmy flipped through her latest Prada catalog. Dor stared out the window. Ellie yawned and scratched the healing stitches across her shoulder.

Delphi referred to her notes. “I’ll take the math and computer science section. Now, according to the outline, the Dean is responsible for ‘a detailed description of the overall academics of the University.’ Think you can manage that?”

Emmy looked up. “Should I include the extensive extra-curricular activities offered at HSU? The shopping, the sex, the shopping, the sex, the shopping, the sex…”

“If you could, Dean, just limit it to academics only,” Delphi said distractedly. “I think that’ll be best. I need it by Wednesday. Do you think Dande would be willing to do something on…what could we call it…”

“Chintz 101?” suggested the Dean.

“Abnormal Psych.” Delphi made a note. “I’ll check with her. OK, Ellie, you’ll have to take both biology and archaeology. Maybe you can delegate the latter to Indy. Make sure you talk about the highly unique nature of HSU’s research in xenobiology – speaking of which, how’s your hand?”

Ellie waggled the fingers. “Fine. And the last rabies shot was yesterday so I’m all set there.”

“Rabies?” The Dean looked up from the four-inch red heels she was lusting after and raised her eyebrows.

“That new bioengineered golden-egg-laying gene. It mutated in the chickens and they went rabid.”

“Ah. That explains the excess of chicken soup, chicken casserole, chicken cacciatore, and fried chicken last week.” The Dean went back to her catalog.

“That’s good to know,” Dor added. “I thought a spell had gone wrong and made everything taste like chicken.”

“Good, so Ellie, get me that no later than Thursday. And you –” Delphi pointed at Dor, “write up a summary of what we have at the Library and how it supports the faculty’s research and coursework.”

Dor looked worried. “Is that what it’s supposed to do?”

“Um…yes, says so right here.”

“Oh. Well, there’s the Restricted Section, on loan from Hogwart’s, that’s for Lupin. And the stuff on ancient Egypt, that was reference material when we built the pyramid, I guess that counts. And Indy uses it. And the Pirates’ Encyclopedia…”

“How big a collection is that?”

“Just the one volume, ‘R’.”

~*~*~
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and
unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
~*~*~

Darry led her Dementor towards the Vet's Clinic. No one happened to be in the hall except Cal and he just passed out rather than complain like everyone else did. Which was refreshing.

The Dementor regarded the Padawanabe's prone body. “Don't bother,” the Nurse said to her guard. There's nothing in that one worth taking.” They reached Ellie's office. Darry was about to knock when Ellie's voice said “Boss! I know you're out there. Go away.”

“Then eat some chocolate and answer the door, because we're not leaving.” Darry impatiently tapped her foot on the floor. The Dementor impatiently tapped its head on the ceiling.

Ellie opened the door with her mouth full. “Whathyawant?”

“I need it fixed.” Darry indicated her guard. Ellie just stared at her, chewing. Darry and her Dementor waited and tapped some more.

Finally the Padawan swallowed and looked up doubtfully at the Dementor. “Fixed? You want it neutered?”

Darry scowled. “No. Fixed, as in it's broken.” She pulled her cardigan a little tighter around herself.

“I think it's working just fine,” said Ellie, stuffing some more chocolate into her gob.

“Yes, I know, and that's the point. I won't get any booze, mail or pharmaceutical deliveries until this thing stops making people so depressed. What I want is the bark without the bite; you of all people should understand that.”

Ellie looked doubtful, but she was game for anything. “So essentially, you want a scary-looking sentient balloon.”

Darry thought for a moment. “Er…yeah…I guess that's as good a description as any. But leave in the soul-sucking option. I need guards that can actually defend the place.”

Ellie chewed some more. “Okay, come on in. Let's see what we can do. Boys, prepare for…uh…surgery. I think.”

~*~*~
Expectation is the root of all heartache.
~*~*~

“What did you expect?” Worf asked, frowning under massive eyebrows. “They have no discipline. They would not last a week at Starfleet.”

“Yes, well, this isn’t Starfleet.” Delphi sat at her desk in the HSU IT Department, staring morosely at a pile of what appeared to be recyclables but was, in fact, the material submitted to her by the faculty and staff of HSU for the accreditation document. “One week I’ve got to put this together,” she said glumly, stirring the mess with a forefinger.

Dande’s was written on pink scented paper in lavender ink and, although it did mention counseling in passing, appeared to be primarily a recipe for quiche. Ellie’s looked distinctly dog-eared, punctured and torn in several places; she claimed when she dropped it off that the tigers had gotten at it. Certainly something had.

Judy’s list of “food services” consisted of a pub menu and a list of snack items scribbled on a bar napkin; the other side of the napkin had a dirty joke about orcs and a telephone number for a substance abuse clinic. Laure’s English syllabus consisted of a list of definitions of terms like “slash,” “mpreg,” and “angsty,” and a lengthy essay entitled, “Why a good writer never gives a rat’s ass about canon.”

The Librarian had panicked and simply sent the entire Library catalog, all 666 pages of it in 14-point Comic Sans. The Dean had photocopied the course listings from the Princess Academy and affixed a glossy purple and gold cover with the HSU coat of arms on the front (“HSU” in large letters on a shield resting on a pile of shoes, surmounted by a large bolt of purple lightning and flanked by two Roman centurions, rampant).

Suddenly a siren went off and a large red light labeled “UH-OH” began flashing. “Shit!” Delphi leaped to her feet. “The processors are overheating again. Worf, we’ll have to open the intake pipes from the lake all the way.” The monstrous digital photos submitted as supporting data had required the diversion of rather a large portion of the lake water to cool the processors; Kendra and Tara would be most vexed when they discovered they only had enough to moisten the elf and William Turner, not soak them completely.

Most of the photos, unfortunately, turned out to be of shoes.

~*~*~
Now is the winter of our discontent…
~*~*~

The Dean smiled benignly at the three accreditation team members. Behind her were ranged the faculty and staff of the University in their best and most professional attire (a lot of it seemed to be leather and expensive jewelry). “It’s a privilege to welcome you to Ho State University,” she said in her best impressive voice. “Please accept this small token of our appreciation.” She motioned to Dande, who stepped forward and handed each of them a small white wicker basket filled with homemade cookies, hand cream, body lotion, perfume, and a 50% off coupon for Galacti-Spa.

Dolores Umbridge held hers between two fingertips, lips pursed with distaste. “Educational Decree 562 specifically prohibits accepting gifts from accreditation candidates.”

“Oh, but this is quite nice,” said Dr. Jones, opening a jar of face cream and sniffing it appreciatively. He dipped a finger in. “Intergalactic travel always dries my skin out.”

“Very thoughtful,” said Vader, peering (presumably) at his basket. “I see you have included an inhaler for me.”

The Dean cleared her throat. “You received copies of the documentation yesterday, so do you have any questions for us?”

Dolores Umbridge smiled sweetly. “Oh, just a very few, perhaps…”

Six hours later the HSU faculty and staff were looking a bit haggard. Dr. Jones had disappeared three hours earlier, saying something about catching up with Junior.

“Just one more teensy question,” Umbridge smiled. “About your Defense against the Dark Arts courses. I see that you have not listed any faculty members. Who is teaching those classes?”

The Dean, Judy, and Laure exchanged glances. “Uh, we have kind of a Distinguished Lecture Series. Different people. Adjunct faculty.” Best to dodge the question, since the most appropriate candidate was currently passed out on Laure's chaise longue and probably in no fit state to be interviewed.

Umbridge pursed her lips. “I see. Well, perhaps as a final item, we might see an example of your students’ progress?”

The Dean leaned over to Delphi and hissed, “Where’s Cal?”

“I sent him out two hours ago to round up the Ewoks and hide them,” she hissed back. “He was supposed to be back by now!”

Umbridge smiled. “Is there a problem?”

“Um, er, no, not as such…”

The door crashed open suddenly and Cal ran into the room, closely followed by Dr. Jones. “Most amazing animals this young man was herding,” Dr. Jones was saying. “Never seen anything like them…” he sat down.

Cal panted up to the table. “Here I am, am I too late? I’ve been practicing really really hard with Professor Lupin – ”

“Lupin?” exclaimed Umbridge in outrage. “You have a werewolf on your staff?? This is beyond shocking,” she said, her pink fluffy boa quivering in indignation. “I cannot possibly approve this!”

“Wait, wait, you haven’t seen what I can do,” Cal said breathlessly, “Come on, I worked really hard and I can do it, I really can, let me show you!”

Dr. Jones eyed him. “Well, boy, just what is it you can do?”

“I can conjure a patronus!” Cal announced proudly.

“Nonsense!” Umbridge said. “You can’t possibly do that. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Vader turned his head towards her. “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Yes, yes, let the boy try conjuring a potato,” said Dr. Jones.

“A patronus,” Cal corrected. “OK, let me see, I need something scary.”

The Dean elbowed the Nurse. “Get your Dementor. Quick.”

Darry and Ellie exchanged a glance. “Umm…” said the Nurse. “There may be a slight hitch with that.”

The Dean yanked her aside. “What is the problem?” she hissed. “It’s a fucking Dementor.”

“Er, well…”

“What, the thing suddenly isn’t scary any more?” hissed the Dean sarcastically.

The Nurse looked away. “Well…yeah, basically. Ellie fixed him.” The Dean glared at her and the Nurse went on defensively, “I couldn’t get anyone to deliver booze – er, pharmaceuticals. Or anything else, because it was too depressing to come to my office.”

The Dean closed her eyes. “All right. All right. So you’ve neutered your Dementor. Let me think. Ah yes, of course.” She turned her attention back to the accreditation team. “Lord Vader?”

“What is thy bidding, my master?”

The Dean looked startled. The Nurse glanced around for Palpatine. “Er, if you would be so kind as to supply the necessary fear?”

“As you wish.” He stood up, walked around the table and began looming menacingly over the scrawny Padawanabe.

Cal yelped in fright but stood his ground. He held a battered stick out in front of him and declared firmly, “Expecto patronum!” A searingly bright flash of silver shot from the end of the stick and settled on the table before the accreditation team, coalescing into a tiny glowing dot. “Yessss!!! I did it! I did it! See?!” Cal practically danced in exultation. His braid fell off and rolled under the table.

Dolores leaned over to examine it. She poked a finger at the minute creature. “This…is your patronus?”

“An ant?” said the Dean.

“It’s a flea,” Umbridge said. The silver dot glowed even more brightly in indignation.

Dr. Jones whipped a magnifying glass out of his pocked. “Not at all, Madame. I believe it is a fine specimen of a Forficula auricularia.” His listeners made no sign of comprehension, Latin being a non-starter as a subject at HSU. Vader bent over the silvery shimmer.

“Yes,” he intoned. “It is…an earwig.”

Suddenly a violent shriek echoed through the room. “WHERE’S THE WATER??? DAMN IT, WHERE IS MY WATER?!??!?!” The door to the room slammed open and a furious Water Ho bounded into the room. “YOU DRIED OUT MY ELF!” Kendra screamed as she launched herself at Delphi.

“Agh, splutter, gerroff me, how dare you, ow, I had to do it…!” The two rolled over and over on the floor, legs flailing, Delphi trying vainly to protect herself from the infuriated – and bone-dry – Water Ho. “Do something!” the Dean shouted as they crashed into the table, sending pages wafting to the floor and knocking Umbridge off her chair. The earwig patronus vanished.

Dr. Jones managed to get a grip on Kendra’s arm and pulled her off the unfortunate head of IT, though the flood of invective never slowed. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. What do they teach them at this school?” he murmured.

“Exactly what I was wondering,” Umbridge huffed, her fluffy pink hat askew. “I must say I am not impressed thus far.” She looked at the other two team members. “I think I can state categorically that there is absolutely no way that the accreditation for this University can be renewed.”

The Dean’s face went pale and Delphi sank to the ground, her head in her hands. “Right, I’ll get the pirates and the orcs,” Jael said. “We’ll handle this.” An ominous purple glow began to gather around the Nurse’s fingertips.

Suddenly Vader’s head went up and he half-turned. “I sense something, a presence I've not felt since…”

~*~*~
Love to faults is always blind,
always is to joy inclined.
Lawless, winged, and unconfined,
and breaks all chains from every mind.
~*~*~

The General and Da Mastah sat together in silence on the front steps of the latter’s small house. Midnight, and the campus slumbered under bright stars. Obi-Wan sighed contentedly, think of the smiles on his grrls’ faces and the madcap festivities after the accreditation team had departed, leaving the coveted five-star certificate on the Dean’s desk. They were so happy tonight – and he had made it possible.

Finally Qui-Gon spoke. “That was quite a mind-whammy, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Thank you, Master. Yes it was, wasn’t it? I expected it to work on Vader and the Umbridge woman, of course, but I was a bit surprised it got Dr. Jones.”

“I don’t think it did. He winked at Indy as he was leaving, and said he wants to come back and study the pyramid. Seems to think your grrls may have accidentally built one with, I believe he said, ‘the exact relative dimensions of Egyptian pyramids which make it act as an effective resonator of randomly polarized microwave signals which can be converted into electrical energy.’ I like him.” They sat in silence for a moment, then Qui-Gon spoke again. “Do you remember a conversation we once had, soon after I arrived here, about these women? You said, ‘They are an unruly bunch, my grrls. They get into all sorts of trouble, and they do it as easily as breathing.’ ” [see General Conclusion, 2000, – Ed.]

The General laughed quietly. “Yes, I remember. I also said, ‘I have seen innumerable beautiful things in the galaxy. None of it compares to any of them when they are lost in my arms.’ I stand by both those statements.”

The other man smiled. “You admitted that night that you rarely get to be a hero to them. That you tell yourself they need you, but you suspect they don’t.”

The General nodded. “I said that I could count the times I have been able to look like a hero to them on one hand.” He grinned. “But today…it was very sweet to be a hero for them. Oh, there was a selfish element – this is my home, too. But these women – these smart, independent, brash, funny, passionate, whimsical, insanity-inducing women – never have I been made to feel so loved as I do with them. I thank whatever gods there are that I was given a chance to return even a fraction of the joy they have given me.”