* * * * *

 Inspector Kobic was beside himself with all the surviving Little People his men were managing to find among the wreckage of the downed TIE fighters.

"Can you imagine the strength of the metal these tiny ships are made of?" he joyously exclaimed to one such SID officer: "Reverse-engineering them is bound to advance our own space program, immeasurably!"

"But, sir!" replied the officer: "Our own scientists are merely forensic specialists! We'd need to recruit an outside expert on rocketry, at the very least, for a project of this magnitude."

 Kobic admitted this was true. "However," he added: "...the late Professor Franzen had a research assistant, named Altha, who could provide some much-needed insight in that regard. I'll have some plainclothes men go to her current residence and bring her to Headquarters, as soon as possible."

  It was at this moment that Marna approached the pair, still clad in her "Miss Vera" costume. "Forgive me if I'm intruding on an official conversation, Inspector. I was wondering, though, if our circus might keep some of these Little People as 'performing animals.' Most of our regular menagerie understandably panicked, during this bizarre air raid, and escaped into the nearby forest. Since our troupe is due to pull out, the day after tomorrow, we've no time to hunt them all down., right away. So, in the interim. we'll need something...exotic...to draw in the crowds at our next venue. And..."

"Yes-yes-yes!" Kobic replied, impatiently: "I think we can come to some sort of accommodation, given your co-operation in letting us use your facility as a base of operations."

 The cast-aways of the Spindrift listened to this conversation from the bathrobe pockets of Lee, Kyle, and Leslie Noticias (who were standing nearby).

"Hmph!" snorted Fitzhugh, in derision: "I have yet to read a dictionary where 'co-operation' is defined as 'obedience obtained at gunpoint!' "

 Lee chuckled and stroked his head with her right index finger. "Welcome to our world, Alexander. Believe me! We of the circus don't like the SID anymore than you do. But, we are more used to their...discriminatory condescension."

 It was 7:00 A.M. by the time the SID had finally finished picking up both TIE fighter wreckage and the surviving pilots thereof. The latter were put in hamster cages and carpooled to the animal hospital used for the yearly physicals of the track-and-attack dogs. There, they would remain for the next twelve months while giant biologists poked and prodded at them. Comparing the results of those examinations with what they deduced from autopsying the TIE pilots who had been less fortunate in their crash landings. What Inspector Kobic did not realize, however (and what Marna conveniently "forgot" to tell him), is that not all his prisoners were fighter pilots. A good many of them were the officers and crewmen from the Victory-class Star Destroyers currently orbiting this planet! Both of which,,, ...were now emptier than the promises of a re-elected politician.

 As to the crew of the YT-1000 freighter known as "The Nightshrike?" Logunn and Ta'enka'erf naturally had a lot of questions for Thorg Tocneppil. Because, from their point of view, one second, he had been about to fly them into the middle of a firestorm of turbo-laser beams. And, the next second, he was landing the ship back at the circus. With a mystery woman named Berna opening the debarkation hatch to the cargo hold! By the time she and Thorg had finished explaining, it was time for lunch. Whereupon, the Noticias family (who had once again been rehearsing their trapeze act) came to the mess tent wearing their eye-catching--and flatteringly form-fitting--leotards.

"Ugh!" protested Fitzhugh: "Soup, again?!"

Everybody laughed; the giantess and her two daughters doing so, especially loudly.

"Don't worry, Alexander. This time, it's chicken noodle soup. Good for what ails you!"

"I'd like to test that theory," grumbled Obmuj: "By beating these three to such a pulp, it'd be the only thing they could eat for six standard weeks!"

 "Upset much?" inquired Logunn, trying unsuccessfully to sound puzzled. The Cragmoloid glared angrily at the Zehethbran.

"What kind of friend would desert me on a world full of giant primitive humans, and force me to take care of his stinking dinko into the bargain? You wouldn't treat me like that if I were a Wookiee or a Yuzzem or some other species that practices life-debtedness!"

"You're right," admitted Logunn: "And I apologize. But, I'll make it up to you out of my share. I promise!"

 All four of Ta'enka'erf's arms unfolded when his bat-like ears heard that. "Share??? Share of what? What are you talking about?"

"Well, it's obviously too late to bring Bogo the Hutt his hanadak," said Logunn: "So, we'll have to reimburse him the credits he advanced us out of our own pockets. And, what better way to get those credits than to do a little info peddling? I know a certain Bothan spymaster who will pay us a small fortune for what we were told about the Empire's new Death Star! And, I've no doubt he'll double that fortune when he re-sells it to the Rebel Alliance."

"That's assuming we can make it back through the wormhole that first brought us here," countered the Pho ph'eahian.

"Oh, don't worry about that," replied Berna: "Thorg and I can more than compensate for that with our two Omnis."

'In that case," said Steve Burton: "...is there any chance of giving us a ride back to Earth? Because Dan, Mark, and I rode back to our ship's campsite courtesy of some of Marna's doves. And the Spindrift was totaled in the running firefight the SID had with those Imperial storm troopers! Our sleeping quarters; our food caches; everything's gone. Flattened beyond recognition!"

 Berna looked at her husband, who nodded. "It would be our pleasure," she said.

 Thus did the cast-aways of the Spindrift finally return to their homeworld almost four years after they had left it. And the answers they gave to NASA, the FAA, and other relevant authorities were naturally met with some skepticism, at first. Yet, there was no disputing the fact that one of the Spindrifters was conspicuously absent.

 "I'm not going with you," Fitzhugh had shockingly announced: "I'm staying here. Back home, I'm still wanted for embezzlement! Remember? And, as a member of this circus, at least I'll eat right. Isn't that true, my dear?"

 He smiled up at Lee, whose matching smile was naturally twice as big. Steve (who had seen the same type of smiles on Dan, Betty, Mark, and Valerie when he had first joined them in marriage) smiled to himself at the unspoken real reason for Fitzhugh's so suddenly being cured of his homesickness.

 "I understand. And I wish you the best of luck."

 "What about the captains of the two spaceships that chased you guys here?" asked Barry: "Won't their own commanding officers miss them and trace them, to this planet, through that wormhole?"

 Berna had shaken her head. "By now, their Star Destroyers have been written off as being sucked into the black hole, called Endor's Gate, with all hands. Between that, and Emperor Palpatine's notorious impatience, I don't think any manpower will be spared for what will no doubt be assumed to be a fruitless search."

 "Speaking of fruit," said Marna: "Does Cookie have any fried banana chips for my new pet monkeys?"

 She looked down at the two little men dressed in copies of the green-and-gold clown outfit Fitzhugh had once worn while posing as a "marionette." Unfortunately, for Yarc Micco and Nepo Thigah, the smiles on their white made-up faces had been painted on with blue adhesive skin gel! Ergo; the protests that came out of their muffled mouths, as they futilely struggled against the leashed collars that pinned their arms to their respective sides, sounded a lot like: "MMPH! MMPH!! MMPH-MMPH-MMPH!!!"

   The End

EPILOGUE

"Admit it," said the Fourth Doctor:  "The wormhole that brought the Spindrift to that planet, in the first place, was created by you two.  As a way to keep the Forest Moon from being ecologically devastated by the explosion of the second Death Star!"

 Thorg and Berna Tocneppil looked at each other before mischievously grinning and chorusing:  "We'll never tell!"