Against what was usual, this time Tycho had woken up before Wes.
This was the day they were supposed to return to their own galaxy, their home, their friends…
A mix of apprehension and excitement had gotten hold of him and not even Wes' warm embrace had brought him neither sleep nor solace.
Both men had serious decisions to make on arrival, one of those was how to carry their new relationship into a reality he knew not to be as accepting as this one was!
Their New Republic was a problematic newborn, with politicians from all systems trying to get the best seat. Scuttlebutt had it that Rogue Squadron's use was running its course. Most diplomats and councilors were ready to accuse them of being predominantly human, which was as stupid as trying to teach a Bantha to dance!
They were a symbol… but unfortunately the 'founding core' was still alive.
No martyrs to pay homage… and replace with political appointments!
And what did it have to do with him and Wes? Simple… any excuse to tear down the squadron was an acceptable one.
What better, than use an 'inappropriate relationship' between a senior and a junior officer to dismantle and regroup the Rogues according to the politicians wishes and views?
They lacked the support their counterparts had always counted on.
Generally Narra had been instrumental in keeping the two of them in the same squadron throughout the war. He had vouched for their professionalism as pilots and warriors.
But back home there was no Narra…
In its place was Salm, and for some reason, the general had a keen dislike towards him.
Wes might have some admiration for the man, mainly because they shared a passion for Y-Wings, but Tycho knew damn well that wouldn't help them in any way!
In times like these, Tycho felt the absence of his parents to loom over him in a darker way.
How he wished he had his mother to give him some of her sound advice… she always seemed to have the right word to say. She would know the right course of action.
Their faces streamed through his mind, their voices, the precious moments together.
If they were still alive.
If Alderaan was still spinning in its rightful place in the galaxy.
If the Death Star had been discovered earlier.
If…
There were so many 'ifs' haunting him from time to time…
In moments like these, and all was quiet and no other thoughts kept him busy, the sheer weight of the loss of his homeworld threatened to pull him back into the bleak despair he'd lived on for those agonizing six months, before he finally was allowed leave, during which he defected to the Alliance.
The overwhelming fact that there was no more Alderaan to go back to, no more home, no more family, friends… nothing.
An asteroid field where his home should be.
Tycho shut his eyes, clenching his fists and fighting the tears that stubbornly tried to escape.
No!
This wasn't yet the time to properly mourn his world. His job wasn't finished yet!
A soft touch of familiar strong hands holding on to his clenched hands, brought Tycho back from his dark mood. No words were needed.
He leaned back into Wes' broad chest, taking in his comforting warmth, and wood and spice smell that exuded from the Taanabian.
For years he'd been convinced that all Taanabians probably smelled like that, only to find out with was an oil he used…
How the hell did he manage to always carry a bottle of that thing with him around the galaxy, was a mystery.
"Rough night?" Wes whispered gently on Tycho's ear.
"Somewhat…" Tycho rested his cheek on Wes'. "Kept worrying about the journey back."
Wes intertwined his fingers on the Alderaanian's and wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, holding him tight.
"Can't be worse than the journey here." He chuckled. "But that's not really it, is it? It's more what's waiting for us back home. It's how we're supposed to handle our relationship while flying with Rogue Squadron. Am I wrong?"
"Are you going to make a habit of making sense, now?"
"There were plenty of times I made sense!" Wes grumbled, but with a smile on his lips. "You just weren't paying attention… my wisdom is severely underrated!"
"That's because you're always distracting us with your antics." Tycho answered him, without missing a beat.
The Taanabian kissed his neck lightly, making the other man shiver.
"Can't have you guys thinking I'm competent and responsible. Someone could start thinking I wanna be promoted or something…"
"And we can't have that, can we?" Tycho smirked. "But you're right. I have been thinking about how we're supposed to handle this! I'm not about to allow myself to be used, as an excuse to serve Rogue Squadron in a tray to the likes of Fey'lya and Beruss."
"Then we lay low for a while! Wedge is not going to let the squadron get thorn to pieces just like that!" Wes let go of Tycho, so he could turn to face him. "Neither is Luke! Just because he's dedicating himself to his Jedi studies, it doesn't mean he won't come to back us up."
"I'm just making myself suffer by anticipation, right?"
"Yes!" The Taanabian told him, his eyes wide and grabbing him by the shoulders. With a grin, he pulled the other man into a kiss.
Tycho eased himself into his strong arms, emptying his mind of the previous worries and giving in to those tender lips, kissing him eagerly.
No way was he letting go of Wes! They would make it work somehow…
Wedge looked at his chrono, letting out a sigh.
Three hours…
In just three hours, the other pilots would have returned to their place of origin.
What a tale to tell his grandchildren! If he ever ended up having his own family! Which wasn't likely…
He opened his datapad and pulled out the files of his pilots. He hated having to fill out reports, but it was time for personnel evaluation. No matter how much he disliked bureaucracy and desk work, as Rogue Leader it was one of his duties to make sure General Narra and Admiral Ackbar received those evaluations as soon as possible!
As he taped on the file corresponding to Tycho, his eyes were drawn to a file he should have erased, but just couldn't bring himself to…
Holos of him and Luke.
He just couldn't delete them. Many had been the times he'd been close to do so, but instead he found himself going through those images.
It felt like plunging a blade into his chest, and twisting it inside of his ever bleeding heart.
How could he even delude himself about having a family, if the only man he'd ever dreamt of building a family with, was lost forever?
Visions of vivid blue eyes gazing on his brown ones, of the the gentler smile he'd ever seen, lingered in his memory… the feel of his hair on his fingers, the warmth of bare skin against his, of Luke's soft mouth taking his…
But ultimately, he had to let him go. He had to turn his on the love of his life so he could truly fulfil his destiny.
Luke was the galaxy's hope in a rebirth of the Jedi Order, and Wedge was just a starfighter pilot. He wouldn't hold him down nor stand in the way of the legacy that ran through his veins.
They had different journeys in this life, and Luke's was high above his.
Not all Corellians were meant to be lucky…
He closed the datapad. Narra would just have to wait a bit more for those reports!
Getting up swiftly, with a rigid posture and feeling the dark mood setting on him, Wedge grabbed his jacket and bolted for the office's door. He needed to get out of that place, he needed to find his friends.
He needed Tycho's calm reassurance.
He needed Hobbie's quirks and dry sense of humor.
He needed Wes' quick laughter and terrible prank ideas.
And if he was really lucky, he would have some time to see Wes and Tycho's kids!
Nothing like those two little babies to bring a smile to his face…
A small crowd had gathered on the hangar of the Home One to bid their farewells to the two departing men.
Besides the Rogues, General Narra, Leia, Han and Luke had come to say goodbye to them.
Tycho and Wes were prepping their X-Wings for the journey back, exchanging glances.
This was it! This unexpected adventure was almost over. They were going home!
"Nervous?" The counterpart Tycho asked.
Closing the cargo hatch, Wes shook his head.
"Not really. The calculations were double checked…"
"And triple checked!" Tycho added humorously.
"... So, what could go wrong?"
"Tych and I will escort right till the security perimeter, and then you're on your own." The counterpart Wes reminded them.
" You didn't have to." Tycho argued.
"Maybe not." The other Tycho said. "But we want to."
The two couples exchanged a final handshake, making their way into their snubfighters.
As the rest of the spectators watched, the four pilots lowered their cockpits, and after a brief preflight check, the hum of the repulsorlifts and the high pitch noise of the fusial thrust engines filled the hangar as they rose.
Everyone waved at them, while the X-Wings gained enough speed to pass through the magcon field.
The darkness of outer space awaited them, like an old friend. Seasoned pilots like them, lived for the thrill of strapping themselves to a starfighter and push it to its limits through the stars!
"So far, so good…" Wes' voice betrayed a certain edge to it. "Now we wait."
The twin voice of the other Wes, crackled through the comm.
"We should see it any moment now."
The four X-Wings floated evenly on a diamond formation, until they reached the edge of the point of no return. Once there, they checked their scanners and waited.
A small pulse of twisting light was the first sign.
An audible gasp came from Wes' comm, but the Taanabian remained silent.
At the third pulse, the wormhole expanded enough to create the passage they needed.
Tycho's calm voice broke the silence.
"Well, I guess this is it! It was… interesting to say the least."
"We enjoyed this bit. Especially because it was short lived!" Wes joked, drawing laughter from the rest of them. "Now, seriously, I think I can speak for Tycho too when I say we'll never forget any of this!"
"Like it was possible!" Tycho chuckled.
"Good luck!" The counterpart Wes said.
"And safe travels." His husband added.
Two X-Wing drifted forward, getting closer to the still expanding wormhole.
Tycho and Wes gazed upon each other with a smile. They murmured a final goodbye to the other men, hitting their thrusters until they felt the now familiar pull of the twisting stars in front of them.
The engines and the control panels went non-responsive, and as the hole expanded enough to swallow an entire star destroyer, they were sucked into it, the force of entry pushing them against their seats.
For a split second, the same panic almost overcame the Alderaanian, but as the pressure eased and the waves of light flowed through the tunnel's walls, he ignored his pessimistic thoughts.
On the other X-Wing, Wes removed his helmet running his fingers through his curls. He looked to his left to find Tycho glancing anxiously at him. He smiled widely at him.
At his lover…
No. Not that. Not just a lover…
His boyfriend! Yeah, that sounded much better!
Tycho would never be just a bedfellow, an affair.
Nah! Might as well push his reservations and insecurities aside. He was in love, and he knew his life would only have meaning by the Alderaanian's side!
Damn!
Wedge and Hobbie would have a field day when they found out about them!
He could even hear the Corellian's laughter already ringing in his ears…
He pressed his hand against the transparisteel watching Tycho mimic his gesture.
He sighed, sensing a wave of peace and calm rushing through him.
Everything would be just fine!
"WEDGE!"
The holler carried a level of excitement he had never heard from the Raltiirian.
Specially since…
Wedge Antilles straightened up quickly. An irrational wave of mad hope taking over him.
He was smiling!
Lieutenant Derek Klivian was smiling!
Widely!
"They're back, Wedge! Control confirmed… it's really them!"
Grabbing his jacket in a frenzied rush, Wedge ran alongside Hobbie.
When they finally arrived at the hangar, they saw Plourr and Dllr also out of breath, with obvious sign of having ran the entire way there.
Then… the noise… The wonderful noise of two X-Wings arriving and the popping sound of them Magcon field allowing the pilot's passage!
Completely in sync, the starfighters hit their repulsorlifts, and stopping dead center, they made a perfect 180 and landed, sliding backwards to their place on the hangar.
As the hiss of the cockpit echoed, two familiar helmets were removed at the same time to reveal Tycho's blond hair and Wes' curly brown.
Any pretenses of formality vanished at that sight, as the two descended the ladders to be completely engulfed by their friends delirious embraces!
For days they were told to accept Tycho and Wes were hopelessly lost.
And yet, here they were!
Trying to regain control of his voice, Wedge spoke.
"What… what happened?" the last days' stress still present in his features and speech.
Tycho gave him a lopsided grin, pulling back a strand of hair. Wes patted his friend on the shoulder, shaking his head with a matching grin.
"It's...complicated. And a long story to tell!" He said.
Plourr got in the middle of both pilots, throwing her arms around Tycho and Wes' shoulders.
"Thankfully we have enough lum!" She announced.
"Welcome back from the dead." Dllr added, pointing at them. And don't do that again...ever!"
"Aww… thanks Dllr… I didn't know you cared." Wes batted his eyelashes playfully at the Sullustan pilot.
"Shut up Wes!" The others said, in unison, while Tycho tried not to laugh.
The six pilots left the hangar. The sound of happy chatter echoing through the corridors.
Wes allowed himself to fall behind slightly. He glanced at the five people in front of him, allowing his gaze to linger on Tycho…
It was damn great to be home!