A/N: I can't stand it any longer! I must introduce my first and favorite OC! Soooo, we're skipping about, um, half a year, maybe a little less, of Wedge's life so as to reach the introduction. Don't worry, you didn't miss anything important.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE. The OC, however, is! (huge grin).
By the way, Han's 'emo-ness' in the last chapter's beginning is because the poor guy wasn't expecting this at all. Good old Han. I'm pen-named after him, you know.
And the stuff at the end of chapter two will be explained someday, never fear.
Chapter 4: Wrong number
Beep bepp! Beep bepp! Beeeeeeeee--
"Hello?" Wedge grumbled into the comlink. He was grumbling because it was the middle of the night and the stupid device had awoken him with its beeping.
"Hey Luke!" It was Han, sounding excited.
"I'm not Luke," Wedge informed the man, "I'm Wedge. You must've gotten the wrong number. Luke's on Tatooine, anyway."
"Oh," Han continued, not deterred, "Well, guess what? I'm happy!"
And you've also been chewing glitterstim. Rogue Squadron's leader thought. "Well, congratulations," said Wedge sarcastically.
"We named her Jamie."
"Who?" Wedge was confused.
"My kriffing daughter, that's who!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh."
"We need a recorder," chuckled Han, "I would title this: How Wedge Antilles Functions Without Caf. Or, more correctly, How Wedge Antilles Fails Horribly at Functioning Without Caf."
"It's not the lack of caf," said Wedge irately. "In case you failed to notice, IT IS ONE A.M. IN THE MORNING AND MOST SENTIENT BEINGS WITH ANY SENSE ARE ASLEEP!"
"Excuse me for a moment, my ears are ringing….And THANK you Captain Obvious, I was aware that it is one a.m. in the morning because I'M TIRED TOO!"
"Well, then why are you calling me?"
"I thought you were Luke."
"We established that I'm not."
There was silence on the other end for a few moments. Wedge took this time to stretch and rub his eyes. It didn't look like he'd be getting back to bed for some time, not with an oxymoronically hyperactive and tired Han Solo on the line.
"And because of Jamie." Han was back.
"I see you didn't name her Bria," Wedge commented, remembering the name Han had mentioned at dinner ages ago.
"Acute observation, Sherlock Holmes."
"Leia wouldn't let you?"
"Pretty much," Han paused for a minute then added thoughtfully, "You know, I've got this strange urge to burst into manic laughter, just for fun."
"Look," said Wedge, "if I assume correctly that you are in some sort of medical facility, then you breaking into manic laughter might cause you to be isolated in a safe room."
"With cushioned walls? Been there, done that."
"Ummmmm….." Wedge could think of nothing else to say.
"Well, not with cushioned walls, per say, but they were white. Hmm, maybe I should rethink the manic laughter thing," Han mused, "The medical droids are already annoyed with me anyway."
"Why?" asked Wedge, feeling more awake now, "What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Mm hm." Wedge wasn't buying it. "How many murder charges does Nawara have to get you out of now?"
"None. I didn't do anything!"
"Yeah, you did nothing like Chancellor Palpatine had pink robes."
"Well, um, you know what I did like Darth Vader is my, um, father-in-law!"
"But he is," Wedge pointed out.
"I know, I know! I realized that five seconds after I said it! But I'm telling you nothing! A herd of wild Banthas wouldn't drag it from me!" Han proclaimed.
"What about a crate of vipers and hypodermic needles?" Wedge asked innocently.
"Shut up," the ex-smuggler griped.
There was a pause while they simultaneously yawned.
"How did this start, again?" Wedge wondered.
"I was calling Luke," Han supplied.
"Why?"
"To tell him about Jamie."
"He probably already knows."
"How?"
"Da Force."
"Oh, yeah."
"Do you think she'll be force-strong?"
"Who?"
"Jimmie."
"JAMIE!"
"Sorry. Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Do you thing she'll be force-strong?"
"I don't know."
"So," said Wedge, "is her last name going to be Organa-Solo? Leia never took your name."
"No, just Solo. She looks like me." Wedge was too tired to make some sort of jab about Jamie being a poor disadvantaged child.
"Right. Well. Say 'hi' to Leia for me," said Wedge, wishing to end the conversation before it could get any stupider.
"Ok, I will. Ummm, is Luke's frequency 152.9?"
"Beats me," Wedge answered, "But it's not mine, so we're probably good."
"Ok. Bye." Han terminated the com call.
Wedge fell asleep almost immediately, not even bothering to shut the comlink off. The dark room was silent except for the quiet com static.
In the back room of a mechanic's shop on a dusty Corellian road, something happened.
This something had occurred sparingly since the Black Day, the day the Sith took control of the galaxy, the day Republic became Empire, democracy became tyranny.
The day dreams died.
The day the Jedi were slaughtered.
An elegant weapon for a more civilized age.
Civilization died when brave Force-users were gunned down by their own troops, when the clones descended upon the Temple and sabers were silenced forever, when a beautiful blue blade that had once saved the lives of millions was wielded to spill the blood of innocent children.
Chubby little Rokk.
Farsighted Selina.
Red-haired Reno Pella.
The blue skinned Twi'lek Wi'lo.
They were all dead. She had watched them die. She had survived, at a mere five years old, to flee the Temple, to live all these years.
The dark haired woman smiled.
Something happened.
With a sizzling snap-hiss a blue-green blade sprang into existence. The room smelt of lightening.
So many years ago she had abandoned the Temple in terror.
Now the Empire that inspired that terror was deader than the evil beings that had created it.
With another grim smile and a hard twinkle in her dark green eyes, the Corellian Jedi Knight shut off the blade and clipped it to her waist.
She was going back.
A/N: Do I detect any interest? Guess what! I've got 473 or so hits and 8 reviews! (ahem ahem) Soon you will the meet the Jedi woman….She's much more interesting than would seem……