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 6: Briefing

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When Wedge walked into the briefing room where Tycho had assembled the Rogues, he was surprised to see that they were all sitting quietly. There was none of the animated conversation that usually characterized squadron briefings, and he wondered why.

A slight motion caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He looked and saw Tycho nod to him, and then followed the Aleraanian's gaze to the side of the room. Wes was next to Hobbie, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He had fixed someone with a deadly glare. Wedge didn't have to look to know who.

But he did look just the same, and saw Jesina – Keyra, he corrected himself – standing in the back of the room. She was talking to Iella, but her eyes were fixed on Tycho. Wedge sighed. This was going to be so much fun.

"All right, I'll make this quick." He waited until everyone was looking in his direction to continue. Everyone but Wes, at least, who was still glaring at Keyra. He made a mental note to see if Tycho knew what that was all about. He couldn't see Wes being angrier with her than he and Tycho were. "First, I want to introduce the Regional Intelligence Director and acting Base Commander, Colonel Keyra Nitram." He motioned to the back and she took a step forward, raised her hand slightly, and stepped back. "She's been with the Alliance since Yavin, and was with us on Hoth."

"Now, as you've probably figured out by now, we don't have a whole lot to do here, unless things come to a head. I'm putting us on modified alert until and unless we get word that something's happening. Comlinks on and with you at all times. You don't leave the base without letting Tycho or I know where you're going; you don't leave the base alone, and, for the next week, you don't leave the base without being accompanied by myself, Tycho, Janson or Hobbie. The restrictions on leaving the base are more because this is Hoth than because of any alert status. This isn't the most inhospitable planet in the galaxy, but it's close. The average temperature during the day is thirty below. There are predators outside the base that blend in with the snow; trust me when I say I've seen a victim after an attack and you don't want to find yourself in that position. Also, no one leaves after the shield doors close. And, on another note, no unapproved transmissions off the planet. We're not supposed to be here, and we don't want anyone picking up on the fact that we are here."

He paused. Sadly, this next part needed to be said. That was to be expected from pilots, though. "As for drinking, I'm not going to say you have to freeze to death out her on the back side of nowhere and never have a drink – especially considering we went through more than our share of Whyren's here the first time around. Plus, it's a good way to keep warm while still keeping the walls intact," he said with a grin, and waited until the snickering died down. But I do expect it to be kept to a minimum." He glanced surreptitiously at Hobbie.

Now the chatter started and Wedge sighed, tempted to just walk out and see how long it took them to notice that he was no longer there. He had almost decided to try that tack when Tycho, who'd been standing behind him and to his left, spoke. "Just a few more minutes, please." There was a strange, strained quality to his voice, and Wedge realized that the Keyra issue was taking a greater toll on the other man than he'd thought.

Wedge took over the briefing again. "Tycho's going to come up with a patrol roster. Since we're the only squadron here, we're going to do patrols by flights. We're going to rely primarily on our fighters, since the snow speeders are two-person craft – pilot and gunner," he clarified for those who had never used the vehicles before. "We'll do one in the morning, one in the evening, unless something gives us reason to step them up."

"I actually already have it worked out," Tycho said. "One flight would take first patrol except for the fact that Wedge and I have some work to do, so Two flight has it tonight at 1900 hours. Three flight is tomorrow at 0800 and One flight is tomorrow at 1900. We'll keep cycling through like that, at least for now, and see how it goes. I'll post the roster outside my office." He had, as had Wedge, been assigned a windowless, crate-filled room in which to work. "And, I've transmitted to your datapads a layout of the base with room assignments, etcetera. Stay in the portion of the base that's been rebuilt. The rest of it's a disaster."

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Corran poked his head in Wedge's open door. "You busy?"

"Not overly, no. I'm just plotting ways I can contribute to Cracken's imminent downfall." He pushed aside his datapad. "What did you need?"

"The NRI agent," Corran began, "Keyra Nitram?"

"What about her?"

"She seems very familiar to me."

"I'm not surprised. She worked fro Booster until about thirteen years ago. Mirax used to know her, but by a different name."

Corran frowned, but seemed to sense that Wedge wasn't going to volunteer any more information. "All right, thanks." He turned to go and was almost out the door when Wedge called him back. "Yeah?"

"Keyra Nitram was created by General Cracken and Alliance Intelligence. You won't find much of anything by looking there. You'd do better to start with Booster's known associates. And no, you can't contact Mirax."

Corran grinned. "Thanks."

Wedge sighed as Corran left. He'd been flying with these people for too many years. He'd even gotten to the point where he could stay one step ahead of the kid – kid? – from CorSec. Oh, how Booster would love to hear that.

He pulled his datapad back and called up the report he'd been reviewing, on activity in the Hoth System. He'd just found his place when he was interrupted again, this time by Iella. "How you doing?"

"I'm all right." He pushed the datapad aside again and shook his head. "Remember how I said to keep the drinking to a minimum?" She nodded. "Well, I'm thinking about starting my own betting pool on who gets drunk first. I'd lay even odds on me, Tycho, and Hobbs."

"Hobbie? Why?"

"It's Hoth," he said. "The whole thing. He froze up when he saw the speeders."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not." He shook his head. "I don't understand it. He's had more problems, more crashes, than any of us, and he's never reacted like this before."

"You want my opinion?" she asked. He nodded. "Look at yourself. You hate going out into vacuum." Wedge had spent a good amount of time in hard vacuum immediately after Endor nearly losing his hand – and his life – trying to prevent an explosion.

"I know. But I don't react as badly as he is."

"But didn't you tell me that it was months – and a number of exposures to vacuum – before you could handle it without starting to panic?"

He nodded grudgingly. "That's true."

She patted his hand. "Give him time. He just got here. He hasn't had to face this in the – what, ten years? – since it happened. He'll be all right."