AU what could have happened if Isard succeeded in turning one of the members of Rogue Squadron.
Holidays aren't all they are cracked up to be.
Sometimes he thinks about telling one of his friends that fact.
But every time he starts to speak he stops, wondering why he can't say that his mind seems to flit from leaving to returning with nothing in between. That he can't remember his last vacation.
He sighs, running the calculations for the hyperspace jump to join the rest of the fleet for a last time.
The numbers check out.
But he still has a feeling that something isn't quite right.
He shakes his head lightly, staring at the stars flashing past his viewport. Perhaps the loss of memory has made him paranoid.
He grins as he reverts to realspace, his squadron forming up neatly behind him, they would probably be the first to agree that the memory loss is making him go crazy.
He flips the comm. to ask.
Then he stops.
It's a silly question really.
Instead he passes on the next co-ordinates and orders his squad back into hyperspace.
Perhaps he'll ask them when they arrive back at Home One.
He tilts his head as they arrive at the last coordinates. The star destroyers sitting in their path are not friendly.
He snaps out his orders to his squadron even as two interdictors bring their gravity well generators online.
He can hear frantic shouts over the comm. as his pilots realise the odds are not in their favour.
One voice catches his attention as he recognises his name, asking how they ended up in the middle of an imperial fleet.
He frowns, the feeling he had earlier about the calculations returns.
Then another voice cuts across the communications.
He closes his eyes.
"Thank you Antilles," she says. "Thank you for arriving as planned."
He can hear the amusement in her voice as his pilots fall silent.
'Ysanne' He replies, as he finally realises where his calculation went wrong.
Perhaps he should have tried harder to tell his friends he couldn't remember his holiday.