Chapter VII
"No. Seriously Wedge. I want you to. You were in charge of Rogue Squadron when I was just a kid. It's your group, you should lead her if you're going to be coming back." Wedge Antilles adjusted the helmet under his arm and shook his head. "No Gavin, she's your group now. You've earned it." Gavin Darklighter smiled uneasily, warming to the compliment but uncomfortable with the idea of commanding his former commander. "Sir, I insist. You are much more experienced than I am, and if we are going into war again I would really like to be flying under your wing. Rogue Squadron is yours Wedge, it always has been." Wedge chuckled and extended his hand to his friend. "All right, Gavin. But you're my number two, right?" Gavin beamed brightly, "It will be a pleasure."
Wedge Antilles stepped in front of the podium in the Rogue Squadron conference room on Coruscant. It had been years since he had held this post and feelings of nostalgia washed over him. "Hey, Commander, we going to start this mission rolling or are you going to just stand there all day." Wedge smiled as he focused on his old friend. "I suggest you take a seat Mr. Horn before I send you back to Yavin." Corran laughed lightly and sat down beside his apprentice Nevik Hessler and nodded to Inyri Forge. "Good to see you again." She smiled easily as she nodded to Tycho Celchu, Hobbie Klivian and Wes Janson who were just walking in. "Figures it takes a revival of the Empire to bring you old timer's out of retirement." Wes Janson sidled up to her laying a hand on her shoulder. "Who you calling old, darling?" Inyri spitted him with a glare before forcefully removing his hand. "Oh Wes! Is that a gray hair?" Wes' hand reflexively shot up to where she was pointing then he frowned when she burst out laughing. "Hah hah. Very funny." Corran smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah. You are getting a little up there in the years, Wes. What are you now? 50? 60?" Tycho took a seat next to Corran and leaned closer. "More like 70 or 80 by the looks of him." Janson shook his head incredulously. "What is this, pick on Wes day?" Tycho smiled. "Only until 1300, then it's pick on Hobbie day." "Hey!" "All right, people, let's get this meeting under way." Wedge waited for everyone to take their seats and quiet down. Dimming the lights in the room, a holographic projection, provided by information given by Talon Karrde's organization and by Pellaeon himself, of Bastion filled the center of the amphitheater. A red dot appeared on the otherwise blue image. Wedge cleared his throat before gesturing to the lone speck. "This is the Imperial Central Command on Bastion at 38 00 N by 97 00 W. We know that the SSD Hydra is in orbit around the planet. The Titan and the Reaver are somewhere in the Remnant and we should expect them should any conflict take more than one standard hour. Our mission is to escort the command shuttle down to the surface so that Taskforce Shen can take the ICC. Having done this, we return home." Corran raised a hand. "Yes, Captain Horn." "Sir, does this mean we abandon our men on Bastion?" Wedge hesitated and shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his orders. "That is correct, Corran. Should Taskforce Shen succeed in their attack, then the majority of the fleet will be coming to take the planet. If they fail, then there will be no one left to take back with us. As it is, we are under orders." Corran couldn't help but smirk as he recalled Wedge's propensity for "obeying" orders. "If there are no other questions then let's get ready to fly. And may the Force be with us."
On the other side of the galaxy, the Rosanlya drifted silently through space. Beij Caan stood in the observatory waiting for his most prized asset to arrive. "You have another job." Caan nearly jumped as Vim Darke noiselessly stepped up beside him. Reaching into a pocket, the contractor produced a datacard. Darke slipped it into a reader and looked over the information provided. Beneath his dark mask, the assassin smirked. "I'll take it. Consider the Alderaanian as good as dead."
"No. Seriously Wedge. I want you to. You were in charge of Rogue Squadron when I was just a kid. It's your group, you should lead her if you're going to be coming back." Wedge Antilles adjusted the helmet under his arm and shook his head. "No Gavin, she's your group now. You've earned it." Gavin Darklighter smiled uneasily, warming to the compliment but uncomfortable with the idea of commanding his former commander. "Sir, I insist. You are much more experienced than I am, and if we are going into war again I would really like to be flying under your wing. Rogue Squadron is yours Wedge, it always has been." Wedge chuckled and extended his hand to his friend. "All right, Gavin. But you're my number two, right?" Gavin beamed brightly, "It will be a pleasure."
Wedge Antilles stepped in front of the podium in the Rogue Squadron conference room on Coruscant. It had been years since he had held this post and feelings of nostalgia washed over him. "Hey, Commander, we going to start this mission rolling or are you going to just stand there all day." Wedge smiled as he focused on his old friend. "I suggest you take a seat Mr. Horn before I send you back to Yavin." Corran laughed lightly and sat down beside his apprentice Nevik Hessler and nodded to Inyri Forge. "Good to see you again." She smiled easily as she nodded to Tycho Celchu, Hobbie Klivian and Wes Janson who were just walking in. "Figures it takes a revival of the Empire to bring you old timer's out of retirement." Wes Janson sidled up to her laying a hand on her shoulder. "Who you calling old, darling?" Inyri spitted him with a glare before forcefully removing his hand. "Oh Wes! Is that a gray hair?" Wes' hand reflexively shot up to where she was pointing then he frowned when she burst out laughing. "Hah hah. Very funny." Corran smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah. You are getting a little up there in the years, Wes. What are you now? 50? 60?" Tycho took a seat next to Corran and leaned closer. "More like 70 or 80 by the looks of him." Janson shook his head incredulously. "What is this, pick on Wes day?" Tycho smiled. "Only until 1300, then it's pick on Hobbie day." "Hey!" "All right, people, let's get this meeting under way." Wedge waited for everyone to take their seats and quiet down. Dimming the lights in the room, a holographic projection, provided by information given by Talon Karrde's organization and by Pellaeon himself, of Bastion filled the center of the amphitheater. A red dot appeared on the otherwise blue image. Wedge cleared his throat before gesturing to the lone speck. "This is the Imperial Central Command on Bastion at 38 00 N by 97 00 W. We know that the SSD Hydra is in orbit around the planet. The Titan and the Reaver are somewhere in the Remnant and we should expect them should any conflict take more than one standard hour. Our mission is to escort the command shuttle down to the surface so that Taskforce Shen can take the ICC. Having done this, we return home." Corran raised a hand. "Yes, Captain Horn." "Sir, does this mean we abandon our men on Bastion?" Wedge hesitated and shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his orders. "That is correct, Corran. Should Taskforce Shen succeed in their attack, then the majority of the fleet will be coming to take the planet. If they fail, then there will be no one left to take back with us. As it is, we are under orders." Corran couldn't help but smirk as he recalled Wedge's propensity for "obeying" orders. "If there are no other questions then let's get ready to fly. And may the Force be with us."
On the other side of the galaxy, the Rosanlya drifted silently through space. Beij Caan stood in the observatory waiting for his most prized asset to arrive. "You have another job." Caan nearly jumped as Vim Darke noiselessly stepped up beside him. Reaching into a pocket, the contractor produced a datacard. Darke slipped it into a reader and looked over the information provided. Beneath his dark mask, the assassin smirked. "I'll take it. Consider the Alderaanian as good as dead."