Summary: Rogue Squadron heads back to Hoth to defend an Intelligence Unit. But they get more than they bargained for.

Disclaimer: Star Wars, Rogue Squadron, and the rest are not mine. I write this
for my own amusement. Jesina is my own, original creation.

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Chapter 4: Sithspit

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The Corellian Corvette arrived exactly on time the following day, along with a freighter that Wedge found very familiar. "What's the name of that freighter?" he asked one of the bridge officers.

The lieutenant glanced at a screen. "Ice Princess, sir."

Tycho laughed. "That's appropriate on so many levels."

The woman glanced at him, confused, but was reassured by the looks of confusion on Hobbie and Janson's faces. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Yeah, Tych, what are you talking about?"

"Well, there's the fact that we're headed to Hoth. Then there's the fact that I can think of a good many people who would describe Mara Jade that way."

"Mara's here?" Hobbie asked, his voice apprehensive. Generally, whenever anyone they were associated with ran into Mara, trouble followed very quickly. Very quickly. And, as far as he was concerned, this mission was headed for enough trouble on its own, without any help from outsiders.

"It would seem," Wedge replied. He turned to the lieutenant. "I want to talk to that ship's captain."

"She'll be docking momentarily, sir. You can meet her in the hangar." Wedge thanked the lieutenant and left, followed by the others.

By the time they reached the hangar, Mara had already docked and was inside. Her flight suit was folded down to her waist, but carefully positioned so she had easy access to her blaster. "Antilles," she greeted Wedge, nodding to the others. "Don't look so happy to see me."

"I would be happy to see you, except that trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go."

"No, trouble follows Skywalker around. I only just happen to be the unlucky one who's with him whenever it finds him," she retorted as they shook hands.

"What brings you here, Mara?" Wedge asked.

"I have cargo for your friends on that blasted ball of ice."

Wes smirked. "I hope you brought warmer clothes than that, Mara."

"I hope they space you, Janson," she shot back.

Wedge ignored their spat. "Have you been out there, yet?" When she nodded he asked, "Who's on-planet?" He hated having to ask her, but Cracken had refused to tell him, for some reason.

Mara kept her face carefully blank. He'd find out for himself soon enough EXACTLY who was there. "The regional director, a woman, Colonel Keyra Nitram, is running the base."

Wedge groaned, visions of Adumar dancing through his mind, and she looked at him curiously. "What?"

Hobbie stifled a laugh at his CO. "The last time we ran into one of Intel's RD's, we all nearly ended up dead. And then Wedge ran a civil war."

"Ah, yes, Adumar. I'd forgotten. Well, if it makes you feel any better, your fiancé is down there, too." Wedge looked relieved at that, but still nervous just the same.

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The trip out to Hoth, though long, was uneventful. Entering the base was the part that Wedge was most concerned about. As he walked through the strange yet familiar corridors of the restored Echo Base, memories assaulted him every time he turned a corner. He remembered the nights of sabacc that had nearly led Tycho to give up the game forever, and the tense night that they'd all spent waiting in his quarters until morning came so that they could go looking for Luke and Solo. He thought about the afternoon General Riekaan had told him and Tycho about Jesina's death, and the night they broke their own drinking records trying to forget about that afternoon.

Voices dragged him out of his thoughts. "Keyra, Jade's staying the night. Where do you want her?"

"Anywhere where I can keep an eye on her. I wasn't born yesterday. She and Kaarde aren't helping us out of the goodness of their hearts."

When Wedge heard the voice, he stopped short, half a meter away from walking into the woman, who'd been walking backward as she talked. She, however, didn't stop, walking right into him. "Oh!" she exclaimed.

She started to turn. "I'm so—" But she froze, the apology dying in her throat. "Sithspit."

Wedge stared at her. He'd last seen her years before. The only problem with seeing her now was that she was dead.

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Keyra Nitram shook her head as Rik asked her where to put Mara Jade. She'd been expecting them to pull something like this. Jade and Kaarde had been far too selfless for too long. She turned to face him, continuing to walk backward as she spoke. "Anywhere where I can keep an eye on her. I wasn't born yesterday. She and Kaarde aren't helping us out of the goodness of their hearts." She didn't turn back around quickly enough, bumping into someone.

She began to apologize as she turned. "I'm so—" She froze. "Sithspit."

Rik saw her stiffen. "Keyra, you all right?" Then he noticed Wedge and saluted. "General."

Wedge glanced at him, returning the salute. Then he took her arm. Keyra was tempted to pull away, but had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't let her. "I think we need to talk, Agent Nitram."

Rik chose now – 'Of all times,' she thought to herself – to be protective of her. "Ma'am, is everything all right?"

"Yes, it's fine," she managed. Go find a room for Captain Jade. And try not to melt any more walls." It was a poor attempt at a joke, but true just the same. Her people hadn't yet adjusted to living inside a block of ice.

As Rik walked away, Wedge pulled her into the nearest empty room. It happened to be the office she'd assigned him to. "This is your office," she said weakly.

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Wedge stared at her. He couldn't think of anything to say. Her athletic figure was hidden under layers of warm clothing, and her dark brown hair was cut shorter than he'd seen it last, just brushing her shoulders. There were a few more lines on her face than he remembered – but years at war would do that to a person. The fire in her green eyes was, however, exactly as he remembered.

After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, she was the one who finally spoke. You've done very well for yourself, Wedge."

"You too, Jesina. Or should I be calling you Keyra?" There was little he could think of to say to a woman whose ship was supposed to have been blown out of space more than fifteen years ago – with her still on board.

"It doesn't really matter. Jesina is fine. I've come to miss my own name. No one knows me that way anymore."

"That could be because you're supposed to be dead." He waved his hand dismissively. "It's just a theory, but...."

She sighed, dropping into a chair and resting her chin on her hands. Looking up at him she said softly, "I promise you that I have an explanation, Wedge."

"I certainly hope so."

"Will you listen?"

"Of course. This should, at the very least, be an interesting story." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He sat in the other chair in the office which, reminiscent of the Alliance, was an ejection seat out of an x-wing.

"The attack on me at Belsavis was real. By that time the Empire – in the form of the ship Tycho had been stationed on – knew the name of the person – and the freighter – that had helped him defect, and they were watching me. Somehow, they intercepted my flight plans and arranged to get the drop on me. They thought they had me, but they didn't account for the fact that I store in the computer microjumps out of any system I plan to jump into."

Wedge nodded. Jesina had an incredibly advanced astronavigation system installed in her ship. It was a great precaution, especially for someone in her business.

"I jumped out under fire, and the Nightwind took a beating, leaving behind enough debris for an overzealous Captain to convince himself that they'd destroyed me."

"So you decided to stay dead?"

"I wish it had been my decision to make," she said. This time, she was the one who was bitter.

Wedge frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I hit my head – hard – when they opened fire on him. And because I was on a classified assignment, everything identifying me – or my ship – had been eliminated. I was broadcasting a false ID for the ship, and I had no identification on me at all. So when I lost my memory..." she trailed off.

"There was no way for you to find out who you were."

"Exactly."

"You obviously have your memory back now," Wedge pointed out.

"Yes. I regained it back a few years ago. But I'll get to that. After the jump, I set down on Belsavis. And later I found out something Cracken had never told me – he tracked me. And when I set down on Belsavis instead of Sullust, he knew something was wrong. So he came after me."

"What did Cracken have to do with any of this?" Wedge asked. Even then, Cracken had been high up in Alliance Intelligence – and a thorn in the Rogues' side.

"I was already working for Intel. That's a long story, and one I don't feel like telling right now."

He nodded. He didn't particularly like the answer, but he didn't have much choice.

She stared at her hands. "It didn't take him long to find me. I mean, I wasn't hiding or anything. Force!" she sighed. "I didn't even know I had a reason to hide. Anyway, he told me who I was – even showed me a holo taken with you, Wes, Tycho, and Hobbie. But I just couldn't remember. And a doctor told him not to push me. So Cracken gave me a new identity and listed Jesina Dreis as killed-in-action."

"How did you regain your memory?" Wedge asked her.

"There was a special thing on the news commemorating Alderaan. And on it they profiled two Rebel heroes from Alderaan – Leia and Tycho. And they flashed that same holo that Cracken showed me – the five of us on Hoth – and everything just came back to me."

"Why didn't you come back?"

"Because by then I'd been out of your lives for so long that I thought it would be better for everyone if I just stayed dead. You'd built lives for yourselves, found girlfriends." She grinned. "I've worked with Winter and Iella, by the way. They're very impressive. And I had a life as Keyra Nitram."

He sighed. He understood her reasons. He really did. And he couldn't blame her for going along with Cracken's plan in the first place. He could – and did – blame Cracken for lying to them for all these years. And for trying to hide her from them even longer. "So this is why Cracken didn't want Ackbar to send us."

"And why Ackbar was determined to send you."

Wedge nodded. His insistence made sense now. "So, regional director, a colonel. You've done well for yourself."

She smiled. "So have you, General." Then she paused. "But I've made a decision. I made it when I learned you were coming here, but I'd been thinking about it for a while. I'm leaving NRI."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the games and the politics and the backstabbing. I've talked to Cracken and he's agreed to approve my transfer – either to Fleet Command or, my preference, Starfighter Command." She studied his face silently, wondering if he'd understood what she was trying to say.

He hesitated. "I'll see. My first responsibility is to Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie. Besides..." he trailed off, not needing to say that he wasn't ready to trust her. She was, after all, an Intelligence agent who had been dead to them a long, long time.