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 15: Temporary Resolution

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Wedge scrubbed a hand over his face. "All right. I just got word from Cracken that Luke can't be here for a couple of weeks. So we're on our own, and it looks like Tycho's idea is the best option."

"What, exactly, is Tycho's idea?" Iella asked.

"That we go after them. I already had your survey crew map out the larger asteroids – the ones that aren't going to be obliterated just by being in the belt, and that could house a hiding place for…whatever they're doing out there," he finished, shrugging.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Thanks for letting me know," she muttered dryly.

He returned the expression. "You're welcome."

Iella rolled her eyes and looked at Jesina. The other woman rested her chin on the palm of her hand and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Typical," she murmured.

"I know." Iella grinned ruefully.

Wedge cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Can we get back on track, and stop complaining about me?"

"If you want my opinion, I'm fine just complaining about you," Wes joked, but quieted when confronted with Wedge's glare. "But that's just me," he mumbled, studying the floor.

"Can I ask a question before we start?" Jesina asked, growing serious again. "Where's Hobbie? Why isn't he here?"

It was a valid point, given who was present – Wedge, Tycho, Jesina, Iella, Wes, and Corran. Wedge sighed. "Let's just say that I doubt that Hobbie would want anything to do with us right now." He glanced at Tycho, who nodded ruefully.

"Why?" Jesina asked slowly.

Wedge told them about the sim run, Hobbie and Inyri's reactions, the fight in Hobbie's quarters, and their reaction to Inyri's injury.

Jesina returned her chin to her hand, shaking her head. "What a mess," she sighed. "You really screwed up, Wedge."

"I know. Trust me."

Iella frowned, but nodded in agreement. "Let's get back on track, huh?" she suggested. Not that she thought the situation with Hobbie wasn't worth paying attention to, but she could see in her husband's eyes how badly he felt.

"Good idea," Wes said, shifting uncomfortably. He felt even more to blame for the situation than Wedge did. After all, he'd been the one to assume the worst. And Hobbie was his best friend. He should have been the last one to think something like that.

"So how do we do this?" Jesina asked.

"We check out all of these larger asteroids, with deep surface scanners. If we pick up anything, I want to set people down on it."

Corran sighed. "Can't we, I don't know, infiltrate Corellia or something? Something easy?"

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Iella and Jesina walked into the mess after nearly a four-hour planning session that had only ended because Wedge and Tycho were needed for their patrol. "Food!" Jesina exclaimed dramatically. "It does exist."

Iella snickered and squinted at the plate she picked up. "I'm not sure I want to know what this is."

"As long as Wedge didn't cook it, we'll probably survive," Jesina told her, picking up an identical dish. Then she held up a bottle of water triumphantly. "To wash it down so I don't taste it at all."

"Good idea." They picked up napkins and forks and glanced around for a table.

When Iella saw Hobbie, she nudged her companion and nodded in his direction. He looked more dour today than usual – which was telling. "Come on," she said. "Let's cheer him up, shall we?"

The two women set their lunch trays down on either side of his and sat down, surrounding him. He glanced from one to the other and groaned, and then buried his head in his hands. He didn't know what they had planned for him, but whatever it was couldn't be good.

"I can shoot him, you know," Iella offered.

"Huh?" He looked at her, not bothering for a second to attempt to conceal his confusion.

"Wedge," she explained. "He told me that he and Tycho accused you of hitting Inyri. I'm pretty sure that being the Regional Director here gives me the authority to shoot him if I deem it necessary." She looked to Jesina for confirmation.

"Yup, it does. And it certainly sounds necessary to me."

Hobbie shook his head. "No, it isn't."

Iella frowned at him. "Joking, Hobbie. You remember what that is, right? You are Janson's best friend, after all. Aren't you?"

"Yes. And I know you were joking. But I was being serious. Forget about it."

Iella leaned back slightly in her chair and looked quizzically at Jesina, who shrugged. Something seemed…off. "All right," she finally said, beginning to eat.

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Hobbie headed to his quarters after lunch, only to find Jesina standing in front of the door, arms folded. "Spill," she said, her grim expression unwavering.

He frowned at her. "How did you get here?"

"I know some shortcuts. Spill."

His expression turned defensive for a moment but then he sighed, resigned. Shaking his head, he opened the door and stood back so she could enter. She sat down on the chair and he sat across from her.

"What?" he asked.

"What's going on?"

"Jes, please."

"No. I heard everything from Wedge, but I get the feeling there's more. What really happened, Hobbie? How did Inyri get hurt?" She folded her arms across her chest, not liking that she felt the need to be here now, asking him this. But she did feel the need. And she wasn't mad at herself for thinking it. She might be later, if she was wrong. But she didn't think she was. And, therefore, she was angry with him. "Did you hit her?"

"Yes. I mean, almost. I…" he trailed off and shook his head, standing and pacing for a minute, trying to clear his mind. "I almost hit her." He held his thumb and index finger about a centimeter apart. "I came this close. I was angry. I was yelling and I didn't even really know who I was yelling at. I was so mad at Wedge that it didn't even occur to me that he wasn't the one I was yelling at. And I turned around and took a swing at her and realized that it was her and I just barely stopped in time." His voice dropped as he sat back down. "And she just stood there."

Jesina realized that what was getting to him wasn't just that he'd nearly hit her as that she'd have let him.

He looked up at her, a strange expression on his face, and it occurred to her that he was looking for someone to let him have it. She was more than happy to oblige. "That's no excuse."

"You think I don't know that?" he exclaimed. He hid his face in his hands once again. Finally, he met her eyes. "She didn't tell Wedge."

"I know. He'd have said something if she had."

"I kind of wish she would."

"Guilty conscience?" she asked, though she really didn't need to. He just nodded, and she stood, walking over to the chair, standing behind him and resting her hands on his shoulders. Massaging lightly, she said, "You could always tell him."

"What do I say?" he asked, leaning into her hands. "Wedge, just thought I'd let you know I took a swing at Inyri. She just stood there – she was going to let me. And she doesn't care that it could happen again – for real this time."

"I don't think that's true," Jesina said, pausing in her ministrations. Then she resumed. "She probably just doesn't believe you actually would." She leaned forward and hugged him gently, her anger gone, though she felt no guilt over it. "And, honestly, neither do I."

"I wish I could be so sure."

"Hobbie, if you hadn't reacted so badly to that sim, I'd be concerned. And, if you want my opinion, Wedge is pretty lucky that he wasn't the one in your quarters with you. He'd probably be nursing a broken nose right now."

"And I'd probably have broken my hand again."

She smiled at him, though he couldn't see her face, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "That's the spirit."

"I don't think he really needs to know. Not right now, anyway. But do me a favor?"

He twisted around in the chair to look up at her. "What's that?"

"Next time you feel like taking a swing at someone, give me a call. It's been a while since I went hand to hand."

He grinned for the first time in a while. "Thanks, Jes."

"No problem." She headed for the door. Then she turned back. "Are you okay to fly? Honestly?"

He hesitated for a second and then nodded. "As long as I don't have to fly with dead men any more, I'll be okay."

"Good. You have patrol in an hour. Headhunters, asteroid belt." She ducked out the door, missing the pillow he tossed in her general direction.