X-wing: Hero's Return

Hiya everyone:waves: This is a second go, at my first attempt, at a Star Wars fanfic (that makes sense, really it does). If for some strange reason you happen to get hooked on this story and begin to wonder why it takes me so long to update, I apologize in advance. I write slowly, and get distracted easily...but, I've made enough progress in the past few months to warrant another go. SO! I hope you enjoy.

Oh, quick note on the rating: There shouldn't really be anything that deserves a mature (M) rating, but I didn't want to have to worry about things like that while writing, so I slapped the highest rating up there. I'll make a note before the chapter if anything is coming up that you kiddies should turn your eyes from. :)

Boring Disclaimer

Sadly, I don't own the Galaxy Far, Far Away, I just dream. All characters are property of George Lucas and/or their original authors. All original characters are mine, so please ask first if you'd like to play with them.

Prologue

General Wedge Antilles leaned back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. All he wanted to do was go hit the fresher and fall asleep for a standard year.

"Captain..." he started with a sigh.

"General, listen," interrupted Captain Salaban with an equally exasperated tone, "I know you just got back from Adumar and that you were looking forward to some down time, but you four are the best," he said with a nod toward the three other pilots talking quietly in the far corner of the room, "and like I've told you already, this order comes from higher up; I'm just relaying the message."

Wedge sat at a small table in Captain Salaban's office aboard the New Republic ship Allegiance. Slightly smaller than what he would have expected, the room had a large view port directly behind the Captain's desk that managed to give him a false impression of more space. Still, with all the papers, datapads and decorations scattered everywhere, Wedge was beginning to think he'd have more room for movement in his X-wing, not to mention the added bonus of only having space for himself. Sensing that the issue wouldn't just go away on its own, Wedge sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desktop.

"Alright, even if I decide to do this, I can't speak for the other three. You're going to have to convince them yourself."

Captain Salaban smiled. "I'm sure that once they hear you're onboard, the assignment will be a bit more appealing."

Wedge threw his hands up in defense, "Hey, I said IF!"

"I know, I know!" laughed the Captain. "Let's see what the others think. Gentlemen," he called, interrupting the pilots' conversation, "would you join us please?"

Tycho Celchu, Wes Janson, and Hobbie Klivan ended their conversation and made their way over to the table. Salaban motioned for them to sit as he turned to address a neglected comlink at his desk. The pilots grabbed chairs to either side of Wedge and sat down offering their greetings, with Wes offering a wink and a blown kiss. Wedge just sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Hobbie, didn't I tell you to have him admitted to the med ward as soon as we got back?" pleaded Wedge.

"Wedge, we didn't have a chance, we only docked five minutes ago." Tycho reminded him.

"Besides," added Hobbie, "I'm afraid the med staff would have me brought up on charges…something along the lines of submitting them to inhumane treatment."

"Oh you would miss me too much Hobbie." insisted Wes, "you just don't want to admit it."

Ignoring the other two, Tycho turned to Wedge who still had his head in his hands.

"So, are you going to tell us what's going on here?" he asked.

"Captain Salaban's going to explain it all to you" mumbled Wedge.

Wes raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling that I should I be taking evasive maneuvers here?"

There was no answer

"Wedge…?" Hobbie whined.

Before a response could come, their private conversation was interrupted by Salaban returning from his desk.

"Gentlemen, let me start by welcoming you back to the Allegiance and allow me to offer my congratulations on your successful mission on Adumar."

A chorus of "thank you Captain" was heard from the pilots.

"That being said, I'll get right to the point." Captain Salaban began a pace back and forth in front of the table. "Yesterday, I received orders from Fleet Command detailing your next assignment."

A resounding groan was heard from the pilots. Wedge couldn't help but grin.

"I understand your frustration," continued Salaban, "and I can't say that I blame you, but none the less, it's my duty to brief you."

The captain sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the table and took a long breath.

"As you four probably know, the New Republic has recently been making a large effort to improve their pilot training program. You'll remember that during the Rebellion it was just accepted that the new guys were always a step behind the experienced pilots. Back then we didn't have the time or resources to correct the problem and even after the Emperor was defeated, we continued on in the old mindset, assuming that there was nothing we could do fix it."

Salaban leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.

"Certain people in charge are finally starting to take notice. Surveys of casualty laden squadrons are showing that pilots out of flight school aren't getting enough flight hours in environments that simulate the type of precision and control needed in a combat environment."

"Sounds like the same old song and dance Captain," interrupted Hobbie, "you can teach the pilots how to fly and tell them all about combat, but there's nothing that can simulate the real thing."

"All the things blowing up..." mumbled Wes

"...all the comm chatter..." added Tycho

"...and death." finished Wedge quietly.

A solemn silence filled the room and lasted until Salaban spoke again

"That's exactly what the New Republic concluded. They've tried almost everything to rectify the problem but nothing seems to work. We're still getting the same rookie mistakes from pilots and the casualty rate refuses to drop. So, to make a long story short, the New Republic has decided to enlist the help of veteran pilots as sort-of a last chance effort to see if something different can be done to train the rookies better. As far as veteran pilots and experience go, the four of you are on the top of the New Republic's list, which means you are the first to be asked.

Tycho raised a hand, "Captain, what makes them assume that we can do any better than the instructors who have been trying for years to prepare pilots?"

"It's not that they think you can do better," replied Salaban, "so much as they think you'll be able to offer a completely different view, something that the pilots haven't been exposed to before. Like I was explaining to General Antilles, you four would have complete freedom to train them in whatever way you see fit. This program is an experimental idea, so there are really no guidelines. If things work out well here, the New Republic will probably continue with the program, but since you'll be the first to do it, you get to write the book, so to speak."

Suddenly Wes perked up. "Wait, we can do anything we want?"

"That's right, anything. The New Republic will give you full freedom."

"Ooo! Wedge? Can we fly the rookies out and shoot at them? I've always really wanted to do that!" Wes was nearly jumping out of his seat in excitement as the others stared at him with looks of utter confusion on their faces.

"Uh, Wes...?" Tycho slowly started.

"No, really!" insisted a nearly giddy Wes. "Trust me! It'll all make sense." And without another word he began working away furiously on his datapad, leaving the others in stunned silence. Captain Salaban was the first to speak.

"…aaanyway, the New Republic won't force you to take this role, but they did instruct me to do everything I could to convince you to agree. Gentlemen, you are the best at what you do and the New Republic recognizes that. Any help you could offer these kids would be of great worth, most of them would give anything and everything to fly under your command."

When Wedge was sure the Captain had finished, he shook his head and grinned.

"Despite the fact that Iella will kill me, I've agreed to accept the assignment. I won't ask you three to do the same, but I could sure use your help."

Tycho, Hobbie and Wes exchanged smug glances. It was Hobbie who spoke for the group.

"Of course we'll help Wedge. Did you really think you'd have to ask? Besides, none of us want to be here when someone has to explain to Iella why you were called off for another assignment."

"Wait, I have just one request before I agree," interrupted Wes, "will you please take a look at this before you vape my idea?" He slid the datapad he had been working on down the table to Wedge who caught it and gave him a suspicious look, expecting the worst. The other pilots huddled around to get a better look. As Wedge read what was on the screen, a small smile began to play across his face. He looked up and saw the same understanding look on his pilots' faces.

"Captain, we accept." he said as he slid the datapad over to Salaban, "I'd like to make this our first training session if that's at all possible."

"Excellent!" grinned the Captain, "I'll contact Fleet Command immediately and let them know that you've accepted. I'll also put in a request for the needed supplies." he said with a tap on the pad's screen. The pilots all stood up and with the proper goodbyes, headed for the door. Wedge stopped suddenly and turned around.

"Oh, one more thing Captain, where and when can we be expecting to meet the pilots when we get to Coruscant?"

Salaban gave an almost apologetic smile. "You won't be meeting them at Coruscant General, they will be meeting us here...they're en-route as we speak."