Chapter Nine – Chain of Command

"So tell me Lieutenant," Jaina sized up the pilot candidate sitting in front of her desk, "why do you want to fly with Rogue Squadron?"

The pilot shrugged his shoulders, "Honestly I want nothing to do with this cursed unit. Your XO told me there was free lunch involved if I sat here and indulged you for a half hour."

Jaina cast a glare at Darvix who happened to be seated beside her, "I think that will be all, Lieutenant. I'll go ahead and let your shuttle know that you're on your way."

"But what about my-"

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant," Jaina said firmly.

As the pilot candidate left her office, Jaina buried her face in her hands. She had already been through fifteen interviews that morning and had come away with only two marginal candidates to submit to simulation trials. The rest had been either disinterested with the thought of flying with Rogue or possessed a disciplinary sheet that would make the members of the notoriously wild Wraith Squadron blush. This search wasn't going well and she was starting to run out of time.

"Who do we have next?" Jaina sat upright and rubbed the back of her neck. "So help me Zorvan, if you bribed this candidate as well I'm going to have you peeling tubers for a month."

Darvix smiled and picked up the datapad in front of him to scan over the list of names, "Looks like our next candidate is Flight Officer Haruko Skobra, human female from Coruscant."

"Send her in," Jaina said as she prepared another sheet of flimsy to take notes.

Haruko Skobra was a fairly young pilot and clearly wasn't afraid to flaunt that fact. Her dress uniform appeared to be one size too small Her dossier indicated that she was in her early twenties, born around the same time Jaina had been. Graduated from the starfighter academy a little over a year ago. What caught Jaina's eye was Skobra's transfer records. She had been assigned to seven units in less than a year.

"Have a seat Flight Officer," Darvix said, not bothering to glance up from his datapd. "Let's get to the crux of your personnel file. I see you've been cited for theft, forgery, impersonating a superior officer, impersonating a government official, impersonating a military police officer, impersonating a media personality… and impersonating a stripper."

"You know the punishment for impersonating a stripper is significantly more lax than being nabbed as a real stripper," Haruko replied with a tight smile.

"She has a point, you know," Darvix said, casting a sideways glance at Jaina. "Tell me, Miss Skobra…Why do I want a con artist flying in Rogue Squadron?"

"Because you're strapped for pilots and my flight numbers makes me the best pilot on your list," Haurko said flatly.

"You're insubordinate, a criminal, and arrogant to boot," Jaina shook her head. "I've heard enough. Are you done with her, Major?"

"I think so," Darvix leaned over the desk to scrawl a note on a sheet of flimsy and handed it to Haruko, "Your scheduled simulation time will be tomorrow at Oh-eight-twenty. You'll be flying wing support with Major Forge-Janson and Major Azzameen. Dismissed, Flight Officer."

Jaina shot Darvix an angry look as Haruko Skobra walked out of her office. He was doing it again, acting over her head and subverting her command. It was his list of pilots, it was his decision who got to stay for another round and who would be sent home. It was becoming increasingly clear that Darvix Zorvan either had no respect for authority or had no idea where his own scope of power ended. It was probably both.

"She's going to be in a brig cell within two months," Jaina snapped at Darvix. "Why are we even bothering to put her through simulation trials?"

"Because Flight Officer Skobra is right," Darvix said. "She is the best candidate on our list according to Isolated Pilot Efficiency. Every metric points to her being an above-average pilot."

"You said it yourself, she's a con-artist!" Jaina said exasperatedly.

"In limited service time she's logged ten kills and recorded fifteen assists," Darvix glanced over his datapad. "Already she's a two-time ace and is one of the few pilots we're looking at who have logged actual hours with an active-duty unit. Her IPE is well above fleet-average."

"We both know she's going to get court-martialed for something before she even sits behind a flightstick," Jaina said. "She's a distraction."

"She'll be fine as long as she's put in her place early," Darvix absently scrolled through his datapad, not bothering to look at Jaina. "Besides, she won't be able to con a thing out of us. I'm twice the con-artist she'll ever be."

"Excuse me, Major?"

"How else do you explain my brief stints as a Jedi Master and two tour-of-duties with Rogue Squadron despite being a convicted felon on a half-dozen worlds?" Darvix flashed the cocky smile that Jaina was quickly learning to despise. "I conned my way out of Imperial controlled territory, conned my way into the Starfighter Academy, conned my way into Rogue Squadron…Although some have theorized that it's my wit and charm that got me to where I am."

"You're about as charming as a Hutt in labor," Jaina said. "Truth be told, I'd rather take a pilot who's less qualified and less of a disciplinary risk."

"If that's how you feel, you're a fool Colonel," Darvix replied.

"Oh do explain, Mr. Zorvan," Jaina folded her arms across her chest.

"Do you really think it was Admiral Darklighter's idea to force a two-week time limit on us filling out this unit?" Darvix asked. "Why would he do that? He's the most loyal Rogue Squadron supporters in the fleet. This pressure is coming from someone above him."

"What are you trying to say?" Jaina asked. "Someone's out to get us?"

"Damn right that's what I'm trying to say," Darvix said. "You don't threaten to dismantle Rogue Squadron so flippantly. This unit has been the backbone of our military since the Battle of Yavin… No, the only reason we're facing this deadline is because someone very high up wants us to fail."

"Why would anyone want that to happen?" Jaina shook her head, unable to believe a word coming out of Darvix's mouth.

"I don't know," Darvix admitted. "I don't know who is putting the pressure on us and I don't know why that person is putting the pressure on us. All I know is that someone is stacking the odds against us. I don't know about you, Colonel, but that makes me a bit upset. I'm not going to let that happen without a fight, and that means that right now we need to fill our roster with the best pilots available."

"Talent trumps chemistry," Jaina said.

"As of now talent trumps everything," Darvix explained. "Talent trumps discipline, talent trumps leadership, talent trumps roles. We don't have the luxury of being picky. We have to look through the available talent pool and select the best fliers of the group. Let's worry about the intangibles later."

Jaina heaved a sigh, "Someone's out to get us, huh? That's why we have to ignore the important things."

"Nothing is more important than talent," Darvix said. "You assemble a group of talented pilots and they're all linked by one thing: the desire to succeed. They will learn to fight as a single unit if that desire is strong enough. If it isn't they wash out and there's no reason to feel even the slightest bit of remorse."

"You're awfully jaded, Mr. Zorvan," Jaina locked her eyes on his. "I'd hate to find out just what made you so cynical."

Darvix glanced at Jaina for a moment before standing, "That's our last interview for a while. I'll meet you back here at 1400 hours."

***

"You have a minute, Uncle Wes?" Jaina asked as she sat at the opposite end of the mess halltable.

"For you, always," Wes Janson replied. "Now what would you like to talk about? My heroic adventures on Hoth? My date with death at Endor? How I conquered the blastsword duels of Adumar?"

Jaina chuckled and found a smile tugging at her lips. Major Wes Janson (retired as he liked to remind people) had been one of Rogue Squadron's longest serving members and had the distinction of being one of the pilots Luke Skywalker had hand-picked for the original unit. Wes had established himself as a Y-Wing pilot with the Tierfon Yellow Aces just prior to the Battle of Yavin. Shortly after the events over Yavin IV, Wes was selected to fly with Rogue Squadron. He would bounce between flying with the Rogues and teaching at the Starfighter Academy for the better part of two decades, retiring after the conclusion of the Galactic Civil War. By that point, he had become one of the all-time New Republic leaders in kills, assists, flight time, and missions flown.

"Actually," Jaina said. "I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about my executive officer. Tycho and Wedge said you or Uncle Hobbie would have more answers than they would."

Wes sobered for a moment, "I heard old Dap Zorvan was assigned to be your executive officer. Not exactly the easiest of personalities to get along with."

"What can you tell me about him?" Jaina asked.

"What would you like to know?" Wes took a sip from his mug of caf.

"How does he rank as a pilot?"

Wes set the mug down, "In terms of raw skill with a flightstick and trigger he's average, always has been. He probably could have been a more exceptional pilot if he was a bit more selfish. He was much more of a support pilot, racking up a lot of assists while flying as a wing-pair. Dap always liked to say that he modeled his flying style after Zev Senesca, which is a rather apt comparison. We used to fight over who would get Zev as their wingman. Always knew we could trust him to keep an eye out for us.

"What set Dap apart," Wes continued, "was his ability to literally think on the fly. If you could see some holorecordings of the cockpit camera mounted in his simulator, you could always see his eyes darting over the instrumentation and flight computer readouts. Out of necessity, mostly. Back then he was considered to be one of the blindest pilots ever to roll through the Academy."

"Poor ability to scan the field ahead of him?" Jaina asked.

"No, literally blind," Wes grinned. "Apparently when he was a kid, Dap contracted a virus that destroyed his optic nerves. Dap was one of the few pilots to make it through the Academy while using optical cybernetic implants. This presented him with a few problems. The first was that the visible range he could see with those implants was a fair amount shorter than what you and I can see. The second issue was that when things got a little too crazy in front of his cockpit window the implants would start to get laggy and feed him data a split-second too late."

"Sounds like that should have been the kiss of death to his career," Jaina raised a brow.

"By all rights it should have been," Wes admitted. "he got around that by changing his flying style to something rather unique. Whereas most pilots spend ninety percent of their time watching the field in front of them, Dap would have his eyes buried in his targeting and telemetry computer screens. He'd look up as needed, but his eyes were locked on those screens."

"Doesn't seem like that would provide much of a benefit," Jaina said. "I know I couldn't process the information the telemetry computer spits out very quickly."

"Dap's somewhat of an odd case," Wes explained. "He's a number-cruncher who happens to be adequate with a flight stick. He lived to analyze numbers and data, spent all of his free time trying to solve various puzzles and riddles. Dap used to have this little routine before flying. He'd sit down with a sheet of flimsy with a dozen or so mathematical equations written down. Before entering the cockpit he'd run through each one to perform a proof on it.

"In any case," Wes rubbed the back of his neck, "he'd always be thinking two or three maneuvers ahead as he looked at the data in front of him. Dap had this strange ability to micro-manage his wingman and put him into the best position to take on an oncoming threat. All the while Dap would ride alongside that pilot's wing, glancing up every now and then to make sure the space around them was clear."

Jaina nodded, "Sounds like he's a fairly smart pilot."

"What he doesn't have in terms of raw ability he makes up for by being a tactician," Wes said. "Although to be honest, he probably should have become a freelance astrogation specialist. That's where the big money is…Now, I'm guessing this isn't what you had in mind when you came to ask me about Dap, is it?"

Jaina smiled faintly as Wes continued, "Dap has always been a misanthropic jerk who seems to have no respect for anyone but himself. If he's being hard on you, try not to take it personally. Just remember you out-rank him. As strange as it is to believe, he will never directly violate one of your orders. He'll try to force you to see things his way, but he won't ignore you if you say no."

"That doesn't sound like him at all," Jaina said flatly.

"There's only one thing that trumps his misanthropy," Wes folded his arms across the table. "When he develops loyalty towards something, it is a fierce loyalty. Years ago he developed that relationship with Wedge. Dap will never admit it, but he will do anything that Wedge asks. That's where you're lucky."

"How so?"

"You were hand-picked by Gavin Darklighter and Wedge Antilles to command Rogue Squadron," Wes explained, "two of the few men who Darvix truly respects. In the case of Wedge, Dap's respect for him became unquestioned loyalty. When Wedge asked him to serve as the executive officer under your command, you had better believe that loyalty came along for the ride.

"He may question your decisions," Wes continued, "he may verbally berate you like he does everyone else, but in the end you are Rogue Squadron's commanding officer. Even that bastard respects that. If you give him an order he will carry it out with his last dieing breath."

The two were silent for a long while before Jaina spoke up, "Thanks, Uncle Wes."

"Anytime, kid," Wes smiled. "…He's a good pilot, Jaina. He really is. From everything I hear he's done a lot of growing up over the last ten years."

"I suppose I'll find out soon, huh?"

"Wedge always entertained thoughts of bringing Dap back," Wes said. "Called him a potential 'reclamation project,' a medium-risk/high reward kind of pilot. Give him some freedom to be creative, but don't be afraid to reign him in if he gets out of control."

Jaina stood and smiled, walking to the other side of the table to place a quick kiss on Wes's cheek, "I'll keep that in mind."

"If he really gets out of hand," Wes said. "Let me know and Hobbie and I'll go rig a condiment bomb in his quarters."

"I appreciate that, Uncle Wes."

"Anything for you, kid."

***

Jaina was waiting for Darvix in front of the door to her office when he finally arrived. She was somewhat surprised to see that he was right on time for a change instead of half-an-hour late as he usually was. She couldn't help but notice that Darvix still appeared to be rather tired. She wondered if beneath that outward appearance of nonchalant indifference, he was really feeling a good deal of stress over finding new pilots.

"A moment of your time, Major?"

Darvix raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"You're not going to approve anymore pilots without getting a go-ahead from me," Jaina said. "Is that understood?"

Darvix looked at her for a moment before responding, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good," Jaina smiled. "Let's go find our pilots, shall we?"