Chapter Five

Wedge had frequented numerous briefing rooms over his many years flying for the Alliance-now the New Republic-but few had been as large and well-appointed as this one. He leaned heavily back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, to survey the room.

It was essentially a large semi-circle, with the flat end having a lectern on a raised half-moon dais. A large oval table and a holo projector rested on either side of it with a lectern in the middle, completing a rather impressive set of equipment. The curved end of the large chamber comprised six rows of comfortable seats, each row higher than the one before it, which could easily accommodate at least three squadrons. Wedge glanced up towards the high ceiling, squinting his eyes against the glare from bright overhead lights that could be dimmed by either using the dial by the door or the one built into the lectern.

As he blinked away the afterimage of the lights, Wedge gazed out at the rows of seats again, his mind flashing back to a much earlier time, when there was no lectern and the seats were old ejection couches or a crate you scrounged up. Lucky to have had seats at all. He let out a sigh just as Tycho entered the room with Nawara Ven, the squadron's Twi'lek Executive Officer.

"Was that a mighty sigh from our Mighty Leader?" Tycho asked, with a grin that started at his mouth and quickly spread to his eyes. Wedge let himself smile as well.

"I was just thinking about the old days, when we had our pilot briefings huddled in a frozen hangar, sometimes in the clearing of a jungle, but never in a room with state of the art technology and seats you could sleep in."

"Stop it, Wedge, you're making me feel old now," Tycho said as he dropped into a chair across from his commander. He shifted back and forth in it. "But now that you mention it, this seat is comfy."

Wedge rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Nawara. "Did the new pilots all make it in okay?"

The Twi'lek brushed one of his lekku, the fleshy extensions at the back of his head sometimes referred to as brain tails, over his right shoulder with a practiced flourish. Having lost a leg in battle, the Twi'lek was no longer rated to fly a starfighter with the squadron, but his many other talents ensured that Wedge wouldn't part with him if he could help it, and so he took care of a lot of the squadron logistics that both Wedge and Tycho just didn't have time for. Their Exec Officer also flew the squadron's Lambda class shuttle, often through the middle of battles, to pick up extravehicular pilots. Now the Twi'lek turned his blood-red eyes towards his commander. "Yes, sir. I met them in the hangar when each of them arrived and escorted them to their quarters. I also informed all three of them about the orientation, as well as the briefing just after it."

"Good. Thanks, Nawara." Wedge leaned back again, lacing his fingers over his stomach just as Nawara took a seat beside Tycho.

"So why did you ask us here a half hour before the orientation, Boss?" Tycho asked. "Let me guess, you wanted to tell us to be on our best behavior?"

Wedge shook his head. "Only necessary if you're Wes. No, I wanted to talk to you about Thras Nyl."

Tycho folded his arms across his chest, his face closing over the good humor of a moment before. "What about him?"

Wedge held up his hands in self-defence. "Easy, Tych. I just wanted to ask your opinion about flight assignments."

Tycho blew out a long breath, shaking his head slightly. "Sorry, Wedge. I just know how he must feel being here. I know how I was treated by some people when I first came over, and then after my very public trial… Well, it just can't be easy for him, that's all."

"It's all right. I know that I haven't exactly been one of his greatest supporters, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt." He got a nod from Tycho and continued. "Okay, unless there are any serious objections, these are going to be the flight assignments. I've moved a couple of people around to make it work the way I want it to, so either of you jump in if you have a problem."

"Go ahead," Tycho said.

"Rogues One and Two are you and I, Tycho." Wedge looked over at his second-in-command, and saw a flash of surprise in his blue eyes. "I want a wingman that can take care of himself if I'm not around to do it."

Tycho nodded, looked as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind and remained quiet. Wedge continued. "I have Nyl as Three and Hobbie as Four, joining us in One Flight. Do either of you see any problems pairing Nyl and Hobbie?"

Tycho shrugged in answer before elaborating. "Not really. Hobbie's a graduate of the Academy, same as Nyl, so they at least have that in common. Might even make Thras's first few weeks a little bit easier." He paused for a moment. "And you can trust Hobbie to keep an eye on him."

"It's for our own protection, Tycho," Wedge said with only a hint of defensiveness. "I would rather have him watched and find nothing than have him get the whole squadron killed or captured."

Tycho's back was suddenly very stiff in his chair. "So you're saying that he'll automatically be under suspicion until you're satisfied that he's trustworthy? How does that make us any better than the Empire?"

"Tycho, now isn't the time for-"

"No, I want an answer to that one," Tycho insisted, his voice rising a little. "I believe that the last time I checked the New Republic considered you innocent until proven guilty." Tycho got to his feet and leaned on the table in front of Wedge, his tone turning sarcastic. "Oh, that's right. That doesn't apply to people like me and Thras."

Wedge's eyes narrowed. "I don't think I like what you're insinuating. Don't forget that I was the one who stood beside you when you were on trial."

There was a moment of brittle silence before Tycho turned and paced up and down in the space between the table and rows of seats. "I know, I know. Don't think that I don't appreciate you defending me, because I do. I just wish that you would give Thras the same chance you gave me. I know that you don't know him like you knew me then, but trust him because he's a fellow pilot-a Rogue."

Wedge stood and walked over to Tycho, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop his friend's pacing. "Okay, I consider myself reprimanded. I'll let it go for the moment, all right?"

"Fine," Tycho said rather quietly, and returned to his seat.

Wedge shook his head and returned to his seat as well, although he wasn't nearly as comfortable as he had been just a few minutes before. He punched some keys on his datapad to cover his disquiet. "So, Rogue Five is Wes, who will be in charge of Two Flight, and Rogue Six, his wingman, will be the Sullustan, Hepat Avaan."

He looked up and Nawara just nodded. Tycho said nothing, so he consulted his pad again and continued. "Rounding out Two Flight will be Varnestra, Rogue Seven, and Ecla Idec, Rogue Eight. Three Flight will remain as it was with Corran, Ooryl, Myn, and Inyri, Rogues Nine through Twelve, Corran in charge. Any problems with that line-up?" Wedge asked, shutting off his datapad.

"None here," Nawara said, glancing sidelong at Tycho.

"No problems. Sir." Tycho's voice sounded coldly professional. Wedge suppressed a sigh.

"Fine. The three new pilots will be here in about ten minutes for their orientation, and then the rest of the Rogues will join us for the general training briefing. Let's go over the details of those."

Three additional pilots in worn uniforms sporting fresh squadron patches stood around the briefing room table with their new commander, second-in-command, and executive officer.

Tycho seemed to have settled down somewhat since their earlier head-to-head pass, but Wedge was still cautious about how he spoke and reacted to Thras Nyl around him; the last thing he wanted to do was alienate his best friend because of an ex-Imperial. He also didn't want to give Tycho any ammunition for later arguments.

"I'm sure Captain Ven has already welcomed you, but I'd like to personally extend a welcome to Rogue Squadron. I'm General Wedge Antilles, and to my right is Colonel Tycho Celchu, second-in-command and my wingman."

After a round of salutes, handshakes, and "pleased to meet you," Wedge indicated for them all to sit and readied himself for the orientation. He had given this particular talk, with minor adjustments for the warlord, pirate or Imperial madman of the moment, more times than he could remember. He still got a kind of thrill from it, though. It reminded him of when Rogue Squadron had first been formed out of the remnants of Red Squadron, and his own orientation lecture, given to him by none other than Luke Skywalker. He hadn't really changed the lecture that much and it had become a sort of tradition for him.

"First of all, let me congratulate you on your acceptance to the Rogues. There is usually a long list of pilots asking to transfer to this unit for one reason or another, and out of that list, we chose you, because of levels of skill and experience. Now let me tell you a little something about your new squadron."

"Here it comes," Tycho mumbled under his breath, "the old disclaimer."

Wedge eyed Tycho briefly. They had been through this act more times than he could count, too. "Rogue Squadron may be a little different from other units you've served with. It's a little more democratic than most, I think perhaps because of the nature of the missions we're often given. But make no mistake, when I make a decision and give an order, it is to be followed."

Tycho tried to suppress a smirk, but didn't entirely succeed. Wedge raised an eyebrow slightly before continuing, knowing that Tycho knew what was coming next. "You may also notice that some of your squadron mates are a little...unique." Nawara smiled and Tycho chuckled outright this time; Wedge ignored them. "But they're some of the best pilots in the galaxy. If you want to become a better pilot, then they're the ones to learn from. If you want to test your skills, then you're flying with the best. So, let's begin. Flight Officer Ecla Idec."

The young woman straightened in her chair, a pair of crystal blue eyes snapping up to look at Wedge, her shoulder length hair swaying slightly with her movements. "Your wingmate will be Varnestra. Your call sign is Rogue Eight, she is Rogue Seven. Your flight leader is Major Wes Janson."

"Thank you, sir," she said, nodding her acceptance. She displayed the appropriate level of professionalism, but Wedge could detect a lot of enthusiasm in her eyes. She was young and eager, anxious to please, but her record spoke for itself. She'd received a citation from her former commanding officer for bravery and superior flying skills. She was just the type of pilot he knew would fit well with the rest of the squadron.

"Flight Officer Hepat Avaan." The small, mouse-eared Sullustan pilot looked back at his commander with round, onyx eyes, and Wedge could see a tiny warped reflection of himself. "You will be paired with Major Janson-"

"Our condolences," Nawara Ven offered quietly.

"-and call sign Rogue Six. He is Rogue Five."

"Thank you, General," Avaan said, his dark brown jowls vibrating as he spoke. He was very small, even for his species. Only his upper chest, shoulders, and head appeared above the top of the table. Luckily all three pilots were reporting for their new duties with their own X-wings, because Wedge knew that Avaan's probably had a lot of modifications to enable him to pilot it. He had an impressive flight record, however, so Wedge had to believe that whatever the modifications were, they worked for him.

"And Flight Officer Thras Nyl."

Wedge noticed that Tycho was suddenly silent, his shoulders a little straighter. Is he watching me to see what kind of welcome I give him? Well, if he is, I'm not going to give him anything to pick at later."Flight Officer Nyl, this transfer is going to be hardest on you, I would imagine. We've paired you with another Academy graduate, Major Derek Klivian. He's a superior pilot and a patient teacher; he should have you up to speed with our rules, regulations and jargon in no time. You'll be Rogue Three to his Rogue Four, rounding out my One Flight."

"Thank you, sir," Nyl answered. Long dark lashes hid some of his steel gray eyes, but Wedge could read no malice or animosity in them. His black hair was swept back clear of his face, and his prominent chin was resolutely set. "I appreciate this opportunity, sir. To serve with Rogue Squadron is truly an honor."

"Let me know if you feel the same way by the end of the day," Wedge added, and everyone around the table chuckled, including, to Wedge's relief, Tycho. "Okay, now to the main purpose of this meeting. I wanted to bring you all into the loop about who we're currently fighting. Idec, I know you haven't faced Rozrrom's forces before, correct?"

She nodded curtly to him. "Correct, sir. I was stationed out nearer the Rim, guarding freighters against smugglers, for the last six months."

"Yes, I remember that from your record." Wedge slowly nodded, moving on to his next target. "Nyl, will this be your first tour of duty against Rozrrom's forces?"

"Yes, General. Up until now, I have only faced New Republic ships in actual battle."

Wedge raised an eyebrow. No regret, no apology. It's a part of his past that he's accepted and hopes we can do the same. "This briefing will be advantageous for you as well, then. Avaan, you've gone up against them a number of times."

"Correct, sir, with High Flight Squadron, then Belkin Squadron."

Wedge tried to remember where he had heard the name High Flight recently. He had seen it prominently somewhere besides Avaan's file, knowing that the Sullustan had flown B-wings before X‑wings. In a flash, the answer surfaced in his mind. It was a pilot in High Flight that shot down Thras Nyl at Bilbringi. He looked at Nyl, but the ex-Imperial's face was expressionless. Maybe he hasn't made the connection...Probably doesn't even know who it was that got him, and I'm not about to point it out.

"Okay, I'll run through a background of Rozrrom, then go on to let you in on what our part in upcoming operations will be." Wedge didn't need to consult his datapad, as he had been studying Rozrrom almost obsessively for the last two months, ever since the Rogues had been attached to the fleet chasing him across both Imperial and New Republic space. He knew the details off by heart—he had to in order to try and anticipate the slippery pirate.

"Selr Rozrrom was born on Corellia approximately 45 years ago, but left there in his teens to take up smuggling and piracy. From what records New Republic Intelligence have been able to scrounge up, it seems he made a pretty good living as a smuggler, good enough to eventually piece together his own fleet of freighters, hire on a small army of other smugglers, essentially starting his own business. His main goal always seemed to be the typical money and power."

"After the Battle of Endor, Rozrrom upped his operations, reassured no doubt that the Imperial Navy had more important things to worry about. As far as we know, he kept within the borders of the Empire, so he had very little contact with the New Republic."

Wedge leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "At some point after that-Intelligence isn't sure when-he hired himself out to a warlord by the name of Ewe Zo'anzo. Reasons for this move? Unknown. What is known is that he was most likely paid a lot of credits to fall in with Zo'anzo, and Rozrrom sold most of his freighters. He worked very closely with the warlord, and it cannot be discounted that he was possibly a personal bodyguard, among other things. If rumors can be believed, one of those other things was personal assassin." Wedge looked over at Tycho, and then gave him a nudge under the table.

"Personal assassin. I am paying attention," the colonel said, sitting up a little straighter.

"He kept that position up until about a year ago, when Zo'anzo turned up dead on some middle-rim planet. Since Rozrrom is ambitious, and took over everything that Zo'anzo controlled, including his Star Destroyer, it's a safe bet that he had him killed, maybe even killed him personally."

"Lovely," Ecla commented, and then suddenly seemed to realize she'd spoken aloud. She looked a little embarrassed. Wedge raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly before continuing.

"He ended up with hundreds of thousands of people working for him. Of course, most of them were crewers on the ImpStar, Nefarious, but the more men he has, the more he wins over. In the last year he seems to have concentrated on gathering the credits and connections needed to fund his operations. Somewhere in there, Rozrrom declared himself a general and moved outwards towards New Republic space. Since then he's been attacking not only convoys but planets as well, taking supplies, ships, even people, and building his own little empire. His group calls itself the Inexorables."

Wedge leaned forward, twining his fingers together as he leaned his elbows on the table. "What is not generally known is that about a month ago, Rozrrom stumbled across an Imperial Lancer-class frigate. There was a short battle, and the Imperial captain was...Well, let's just say he was convinced to surrender his ship. Rozrrom took possession of it in more or less good condition, and renamed it Inferno."

"The fleet we were previously deployed with last went up against Nefarious and Inferno a couple of weeks ago. Rozrrom caught us off guard with that extra ship, excellent tactics, and better pilots than we'd previously seen. The three of you are replacing the pilots Rogue Squadron lost in that engagement." Wedge paused, letting his words sink in. "Rozrrom seems to be smart, well financed, and at the moment, well hidden. He's not seen until he wants to be, which makes him a difficult enemy to catch, no matter what size of fleet the New Republic sends out. And since one quarter of Rogue Squadron is now new, we'll be training on Coruscant for a while, but when the reformed fleet leaves to take on Rozrrom, we'll go with it."

Wedge leaned back in his chair again. "So, you're probably wondering why I just told you all that, most of which won't make a bit of difference in your cockpit." He glanced at each of his new pilots. "One thing you have to understand is that Rogue Squadron may be a fighter squadron, but my squads tend to be a little bit more than that. As I learned from my time with Wraith Squadron, the more ideas you bring to the table, no matter how insane, the better off we all are. So from time to time, we'll sit down and hash out some theories about the why and how of Rozrrom's actions, just to see what we can come up with."

With a deep breath, Wedge once again looked over the three pilots he'd chosen. "Are there any questions?"

"When do we start?" Ecla Idec asked with a spirited spark in her light eyes.

"I'm glad you asked," Wedge replied as the first of the veteran Rogues started to file into the room. "Cause we're starting right now."

Corran sat at the back of the briefing room, listening to his commander introduce the newest Rogues. Wedge then went on to lay out the details of the upcoming training exercise. It was a simple run, one that they would sim that morning and perform in the afternoon. It consisted of leaving Coruscant's atmosphere and flying in formation to the debris field in orbit around the planet. At that point they would split by wingpair and fly a course through the wreckage, trying to reach an end point in the fastest possible time, an end point that would be provided only upon arrival at the starting area. They would then return to the base and have a debriefing afterwards. The point of the relatively simple exercise was to let the new wingpairs grow accustomed to each other, while the rest of the squadron could see their reactions to certain situations.

Not to mention that egos are on the line.

Burying a smile, Corran looked around the room, studying each new pilot in turn. He hadn't had the chance to meet the three newest Rogues before the briefing, but would try to introduce himself sometime between now and the sim. He saw the Sullustan, Hepat Avaan, sitting with the Mon Calamari Varnestra and Myn Donos, just to the left of the dais. The second new pilot, Ecla Idec, sat with Inyri Forge to the right. He had seen Inyri speaking with the woman, and they had seemed to be friendly enough. Corran therefore assumed that they had been assigned quarters together.

And then there was Thras Nyl. As soon as he saw the tall ex-Imperial, Corran had been reminded of Bror Jace; his former Thyfferan squadmate had the same air of extreme confidence. It looked to him that Thras Nyl assumed an air of superiority over the other Rogues that Corran didn't like at all. And there was something else...

What's the matter, Horn? Afraid he's going to out-fly you? He grunted quietly to himself. Yeah, that'll be the day. Unless my ego shoots me down first, that is. Corran sighed lightly, one hand coming up to rub at his forehead. For some reason, he had the feeling it was going to be a long day.

As Wedge ended the meeting, Corran stood and headed down to the front of the room, walking just behind Ooryl. He looked off towards the exit, and saw Wes dragging Hobbie out of the room. Corran wondered where they were rushing off to, and who it meant trouble for.

"Ooryl! Corran!" Inyri waved to them. "Come on over here a second."

Following in Ooryl's wake, Corran made his way across the room to where Inyri stood. "I'd like to introduce you to Flight Officer Ecla Idec. Ecla, this is Captain Corran Horn and Lieutenant Ooryl Qyrgg, Rogues Nine and Ten."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." The woman saluted both Corran and Ooryl before offering them a pleasant smile.

Corran returned her salute. "We're not quite that formal around here, Ecla. A simple handshake will do. And please, call me Corran." He chuckled and offered her his hand. She took it in a firm grip and gave it a simple shake before releasing it. She had a pretty face, he noticed, with dark brown hair hovering just above her shoulders. When she smiled, she had a little dimple in her left cheek. Her skin was pale and creamy, a smattering of freckles across her nose giving her a rather young look, but her blue eyes flashed with intensity and fire, giving her an interesting mix of youth and poise. He knew instinctively that she was a woman who knew how to take care of herself.

As some of the other pilots were introduced to Ecla, Corran stepped over to the Sullustan, offering his hand to the diminutive pilot. "Captain Corran Horn. Welcome to the Rogues."

"I am Flight Officer Hepat Avaan. It is an honor to serve with such a distinguished squadron."

The small pilot spoke nearly perfect basic, no hesitation or accent, surprising Corran a little. He shook his hand, and then turned to introduce him to Ooryl. "This is Lieutenant Ooryl Qyrgg, Rogue Ten and my wingman."

As Ooryl shook hands with the new Rogue, Corran caught a movement out the corner of his eye. He turned to see Thras Nyl, loitering near the door. The dark-haired man seemed to hold himself apart from the rest of the Rogues, yet kept near to the group, like a new kid in school wanting to be a part of the gang, but not quite sure how to join in.

Corran suppressed a sigh. I guess someone has to be the first to welcome him; might as well be me.

Fixing a good-natured smile on his face, he walked over to Thras, extending his hand as he approached him. "And you must be Thras Nyl. Corran Horn. Welcome to Rogue Squadron."

Corran saw Nyl's gaze dip quickly to his rank insignia, then back up to look him in the eye. "Thank you, Captain. It is an honor to be accepted into the squadron."

Corran frowned slightly; the ex-Imperial actually sounded genuinely happy to be a Rogue. "Well, you must be a pretty hot hand if General Antilles brought you on board."

Thras cleared his throat, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Well, I look forward to proving what skills I possess, sir."

Corran's smile threatened to become authentic. Did he just blush? "First of all, my name is Corran. And secondly, if it's proof you're looking for, how about a little friendly sim contest later on? Before we head out on the training mission?"

"It would be a pleasure, Captain." Corran raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, starting to smile again. "Er, Corran," Nyl corrected himself.

"That's better," he said, just as Ooryl appeared at his side and introduced himself, then reminded Corran that they needed to get moving.

"Okay, see you later, Thras." He left Nyl behind, wondering if the former Imperial was really as bad as he had expected him to be.

With a groan, the canopy of the X-wing simulator began to rise. Corran yanked off his helmet and pushed it violently aside, not even bothering to watch it crash onto, and then down, the metal steps towards the floor of the simulator room. His sweat-matted brown hair was plastered to his head, so he ruffled it with a gloved hand, leaving some of it sticking straight out in places.

Damn it, I'll get him yet! Corran wasn't sure what frustrated him more: the fact that he kept getting shot down, or the fact that he let it bother him.

He climbed over the side with less grace than he would have liked and headed down to the table in the center of the room to grab his towel. His muscles grumbled in protest after having sat in the same position for the last five-plus hours, first simming the practice mission with the squadron, then simming with just Thras Nyl and Tycho.

Behind him, he heard a similar groan as the canopy of the second X-wing simulator cracked open. Thras, wearing a dark blue flightsuit, removed his helmet and left it on the pilot's couch as he jumped energetically over the side of the sim unit, hitting the metal landing with a faint clank. Corran let a small smile of satisfaction creep onto his face. If he's getting out now, then Tycho must have got him.

As if on cue, the third simulator opened up and Tycho climbed up and over the side, removing his helmet and tucking it under the arm of his black flightsuit. He was met at the foot of the stairs by Thras. Corran watched as they laughed quietly then headed in his direction. He wondered absently if he had time to make a quick exit before they reached him.

Coward, he berated himself. He tried to smile as the two men converged on him, but could manage only a tight grimace.

"You almost got me that time, Corran," Tycho said as he walked up to the Corellian captain. "If you'd kept your turn a little tighter, I'd be in a gaseous state right about now."

"Probably true, but by the time I realized that, he was already on my tail," he replied, jerking a thumb at Thras. "If I'd kept in the turn, he would've vaped me thirty seconds sooner."

Thras chuckled quietly. It was a deep, rich sound from low in his throat, pleasant to the ear and seemingly genuine. Corran took a moment to study him more closely. He was above average height, which meant that he was taller than Corran by about a dozen centimetres. His black hair was cut short, his high forehead lending him an air of nobility that might have contributed to the earlier comparison to Bror Jace. His intense gray eyes sparkled with an intelligence that Corran felt could be very dangerous, and there was also something else, something that pushed Corran towards not trusting Thras Nyl, no matter how friendly he seemed. But Corran didn't think it was because he was an ex-Imperial; he had worked with defectors and Academy graduates before, Hobbie and Tycho just to name two. But there was something about Nyl... Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Of course, the fact that he's shot me down five times out of five doesn't prompt him to be one of my favorite people, either.

"It was as much luck as anything else, Captain," Thras was saying, taking his towel from the table and rubbing at his face with it. "With more exposure to my style of flying, I am sure you would quickly gain the upper hand."

"Sure," Corran replied glacially, feeling his mood sour even further. "See you around." He hung his towel around his neck and turned towards the exit.

Thras looked at Tycho. "Maybe next time I should just let him get me?" he half-joked.

Tycho watched Corran as he left the simulator room, then turned his attention back to the new Rogue. "Don't mind Corran, he's just extremely competitive. The fact that you're an exceptional pilot could promote some friction with him, but don't worry about it, he'll respect you in the end."

Thras slung his towel over his shoulder. "I guess. But it's the 'end' that worries me."

Tycho clapped his hand on Nyl's shoulder. "Why don't you hit the showers and relax for a little while. You've had quite the unexpected workout; and there's still the training mission to come."

Thras stretched his arms out over his head, tendons popping in his shoulders. "I think you're right. I wasn't expecting to be simming for quite this long, but Captain Horn is extremely...spirited." Thras smiled, saluted and turned to leave.

The colonel called out to him as Thras headed for the door. "I wouldn't worry about the Rogues; but if Corran is any indication, they'll keep you on your toes. You'll need all the rest you can get."