Author note: Written in response to Rogue Podron Mission 2-7. Not my best work but I've never written Star Wars and this is primarily intended as a silly work of humor.
"No, you listen," Wedge finally snapped, irritation clear in his voice. "This is a brand new squadron. My pilots have only known each other for a few weeks. We should be training, not-" he broke off, spinning around and pushing away the aide determinedly misting him with oil.
"The reformation of Rogue Squadron is a moment to be celebrated, Commander!" The Intel officer beamed at him, squinting slightly into the bright sun. "And that's what we're here to do. This shoot will showcase the continuing strength of the New Republic, the youthful idealism of new recruits, all the diverse backgrounds that have found a common cause in democracy, and the wisdom of the experienced leaders who are guiding the galaxy to a brighter future!"
"You're making a calendar."
"A practical yet inspirational piece of home decor," the Intel officer corrected him.
"What exactly are you trying to inspire?" Wedge demanded, voice incredulous. He gasped suddenly, startled as cool, slick oil struck his skin, rolling slowly downwards over well defined muscle. "Stop that," he hissed, turning slightly to glare again at the aide.
"They're inspiring all sorts of things, Wedge." Tycho's voice floated out from behind the Intel officer. The Rogue's executive officer stepped into view, an amused look on his face. The blonde ran his eyes up and down Wedge's barely clad form, noting the tight swimming trunks and oil-glistening skin. "This may be a bigger hit than your wanted poster," he continued after a moment.
"Not. Helping."
Further down the beach, the other Rogues could be heard laughing, unconcerned with the unusual circumstances surrounding their beach vacation.
Nawara Ven was reclining under a large sunshade, a datapad held loosely in one hand. His loose swim shorts emphasized his lean, powerful form. His lukku hung behind the lounge chair, twitching slightly as he watched Erisi Dlarit and Rhysati Ynr chase each other in and out of the water, laughing and shrieking.
Rhysati glanced over, giving him a sly grin after successfully drunking Erisi into the water. Dancing away, water dripping all around her, she raked the hair out of her eyes and flashed the lawyer a proud smirk.
Erisi suddenly surfaced from the water, back arching and chest heaving as she took a deep breath. Her bare stomach glistened under the sun and the small bikini top strained to encompass her curvaceous form. For a brief moment, activity on the beach paused, all attention on the Thyferran woman. A small smile crossed Erisis face, a small sign of her conscious preening for the holo cameras focus on her.
The moment was abruptly shattered when Gavin shrieked nearby, hands flying down to clutch at his swim suit. He twisted at the waist, giving Shiel a shocked look at the Shistavanen continued to try to drag down his wingmate's suit.
Riv had managed to expose an entire cheek with his prank. And Gavin, tall, sweet, and innocent looking, clearly wasn't quite sure how to respond. At least, for a few moments. Then a lifetime spent around a veritable horde of older and younger siblings and cousins took over and he spun around and charged the wolfman.
Howling with laughter, Riv stumbled, then ran, Gavin close at his heels.
The pair raced past another sun shade, feet sliding slightly through the hot sun. Pehsk gave them a brief glance before turning his gaze back to the game of Novacrown that sat between himself and Bror. The ruddy colored Bothan smirked as he reached forward to move one of his light-blue pieces, leaving Bror with few moves that could prevent yet another loss.
"You're gonna pay, Riv!" Gavin roared as they continued to weaved back and forth between the holocam crew.
"Hey!" Corran protested as the chase shot past Ooryl and himself, sand flying through the air as Riv made a sudden sharp turn.
Even as the Corellian levered himself upright from his sunbathing position, Riv and Gavin positioned themselves on either side of his towel. Eyes locked onto each other, a tense silence began, Riv taking the occasional small step one way, only to have Gavin match the movement, waiting for an opening to pounce.
Next to Corran, Ooryl calmly put down the datapad he had been holding and covered it with a second towel, his other hand moving up to protect his breathing apparatus from more flying sand, unconcerned with the antics of his squadmates.
Unaware of the tense standoff in the beach, Lujayne let out a loud whoop as she steered her waterbike through the choppy waves. After taking a few more twisting turns, she glanced behind her, eyes bright with laughter, to check in Andoorni.
The Rodian gave her a brief wave, letting go of the tether with one hand as she continued to skim across the water behind the bike on a pair of water skies.
"Still doing alright?" Lujayne hollered.
"You bet!" Andoorni shouted in reply.
Bending back over the waterbike's controls, Lujayne opened the throttle and the two females raced off towards deeper water.
Wedge, still standing a bit removed from the other Rogue pilots, watched the various antics with crossed arms. He had to admit, Republic Intelligence had done an excellent job of staging the holoshoot. The pilots were all glad in orange and white bathing suits of various cuts. The color gave them a visual unity that echoed their flight uniforms. Somewhere on each suit the swooping Alliance crest and the bold Rogue Squadron logo could be seen. At the same time, the different style suits helped highlight the individuality and personality of each pilot.
Erisi's snug bikini suit emphasized her rich figure and stunning beauty. Gavin's loose boxer style swimming trunks helped give him a youthful, energetic appearance while the tighter pair Bror wore emphasized his dedicated physical fitness regimen.
Holocam operators drifted across the beach, taking countless holos and videos that would be dissected, manipulated, and framed to best enhance the appearance of each pilot.
A heavy arm suddenly draped itself across his shoulders. Wedge swiveled his head, started, then blinked when he saw Tycho. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed that his longtime friend was changed out of his flight suit into his own orange and white swimsuit.
"You have a perfect excuse not to take part of this mess," he commented, arms still crossed.
"Please," Tycho grinned, humor filling his blue eyes. "I may not be flying combat missions but I'm still a Rogue. And besides," he chucked, "your intransigence about the shoot has made the Intel people desperate."
Wedge sighed, a feeling of defeat slowly filling him. "I suppose we may as well get this over with." Stepping out from under Tycho's arm, he trudged over to the net that had been set-up nearby. "What exactly am I supposed to do here?" he demanded.
The Intel officer clapped his hands, happiness lighting across his face. "Just use your hands and arms to hit the ball back over the net. You and Officer Celchu will be on opposing sides. And most importantly, have fun!"
Biting back a snicker at the incredulous stare Wedge was giving the officer, Tycho strolled over to the other side of the net, whereupon several members of the holocam team descended with spray bottles of sun protection lotion and oil. Lots of oil. While the bodies that had surrounded him had cut off his view of Wedge, he could hear the other pilot squawk as a similar crew surrounded him.
"Just think of the ball as Wes's head," he called over once the crews had completed their work, bouncing the ball that had been tossed to him back and forth between slippery hands.
Wedge froze. Wes Janson. Former Rogue pilot. Longtime friend. Eternal prankster with the emotional maturity of an eight year old.
"Imagine this is Wes's head after he's gotten fifty copies of the calendar and covered every inch of your office with them," Tycho continued, grinning.
Tossing the ball up into the air, he swung an arm back and then smack, hit it over the net.
Wedge shifted under the ball and hit it back with a decisive thwack. "I'm going to kill him," he announced as the ball flew back towards Tycho.
Bam. Hitting the ball back, Tycho gave him a knowing look. "And you'll have months to plan it all out."
As the ball fell, Wedge dove, hitting the sand with a soft oof. The ball bounced near his leg then rolled out of reach. Flopping onto his back, Wedge sighed.
"And one point for me." Grinning from ear to ear, he caught the ball one of the crew threw over to him. "Come on, you at least need to try to win this."
"You will pay for this, Celchu," Wedge grumbled, slowly climbing to his feet. "You, and everyone else, are going to pay."