DRAMATIS PERSONAE

1 - General Wedge Antilles (human male from Corellia)

2 - Colonel Tycho Celchu (human male from Alderaan)

3 - Flight Officer Nadir Forse (Sullustan male from Sullust)

4 - Major Derek "Hobbie" Klivian (human male from Ralltiir)

5 - Major Wes Janson (human male from Taanab)

6 - Major Gavin Darklighter (human male from Tatoonie)

7 - Captain Myn Donos (human male from Corellia)

8 - Lieutenant Khe-Jeen Slee (Issori male from Issor)

9 - Commander Corran Horn (human male from Corellia)

10 - Lieutenant Ooryl Qyrgg (Gand male from Gand)

11 - Flight Officer Lyyr Zatog (Quarren female from Mon Calamari)

12 - Lieutenant Inyri Forge (human female from Kessel)

Gate – Wedge’s R5 unit

Whistler – Corran’s R2 unit

Clink – Myn’s R2 unit

Jawasawag – Gavin’s R2 unit

Koyi Komad (Twi’lek female from Ryloth, Rogue mechanic)

Zraii (Verpine male from Roche G42, Rogue mechanic)

M-3P0 (Emtrey, protocol and regulations droid, squadron quartermaster)

1 - Major Garik "Face" Loran (human male from Pantolomin, also Lorrd).

2 - Flight Officer Payaccka "Pay" (Wookie female from Kashyauk)

3 - Flight Officer Shien Navaue (Sullustan female from Sullust).

4 - Flight Officer Tyria Sarkin (human female from Toprawa)

5 - Captain Kell Tainer (human male from Sluis Van)

6 - Lieutenant Hohass "Runt" Ekwesh (Thakwaash male from Thakwaa)

7 - Flight Officer Dia Passik (Twi’lek female from Ryloth)

8 - Lieutenant Voort "Piggy" saBinring (Gamorrean male from Gamorr)

9 - Lieutenant Shalla Nelprin (human female from Ingo)

10 - Flight Officer Barke Demonas (human male from Corellia)

Vape – Face’s R2 unit

Smack – Kell’s R5 unit

Chunky (Tyria’s R5 unit)

Cubber (human male from Corellia, Wraith mechanic)

Squeaky (3PO unit, squadron quartermaster)

Iella Antilles (human female from Corellia)

General Airen Cracken (human male from Contruum)

General Luke Skywalker (human male from Tatoonie)

General Han Solo (human male from Corellia)

Captain Nomana (Mon Calamari female from Mon Calamari)

Admiral Ackbar (Mon Calamari male from Mon Calamari)

Captain Nawara Ven (Twi’lek male from Ryloth)

Colonel Kapp Dendo (Devaronian male from Devoran)

Major Page (human male from Corulag)

Chief of State Leia Organa Solo (human female from Alderaan)

Mara Jade-Skywalker (human female, homeworld unknown)

Kyp Durron (human male)

Mirax Terrik (human female from Corellia) Captain of the Pulsar Skate

Booster Terrik (human male from Corellia) Captain of the Errant Venture

Winter Celchu (human female from Alderaan)

Jacen Solo (human male from Coruscant)

Jania Solo (human female from Coruscant)

Anakin Solo (human male from Coruscant)

Artoo – R2-D2 (Luke’s R2 unit)

Threepio – C3-PO (Leia’s protocol droid)

Admiral Sal Viventa (human male from Ralltiir)

General Moridian Rieyu (human male from Coruscant)

Warlord Alieal (human male from Thyferra)

Emperor Clite Palpatine (human male from Coruscant)

Admiral Penallon (human male)

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

Myn Donos’ comm crackled. "Rogues, this is Leader. We have a go-mission. Call them out in order," General Antilles’ distorted voice commanded. "Rogue One, four lit and in the green."

Colonel Tycho Celchu responded immediately. "Rogue Two, standing by, ready to burn."

"Three, ready."

"Four. Can we leave yet?" Major Derek "Hobbie" Kilivan asked.

"Be patient Hobbie," the other major, Wes Janson, replied, then continued eagerly, "Rogue Five is optimal, ready to kill some TIEs."

"Six, four green and ready," Gavin Darklighter reported.

Donos keyed his mike. "Rogue Seven, ready to shoot," he said.

"Eight, green and go."

"Nine, four showing ready," Commander Corran Horn replied. Donos smiled to himself. It was good to have Corran back, after his yearlong stint as a training squadron commander. Horn was just too good to be wasted training pilots.

"Ten is green," Ooryl Qyrgg chimed in.

"Rogue Eleven, good to go."

"Rogue Twelve checks out," Inyri Forge said. "Let’s get this show on the road." I know exactly how she feels, Myn thought. It’s time we got this mission over with.

Wedge’s voice came back. "Exit hanger by proximity." Myn watched the general match actions to words, his X-wing moving smartly from the hanger and rising about the surface of Folor. "Rogue One, away," Donos heard.

The rest of the squadron quickly followed suit, but Myn found himself trying to banish the butterflies that were rising in his stomach. It was odd, because he’d not found himself nervous since he’d recovered from losing Talon Squadron… best not to think of that, he reminded himself. "Go away," he mumbled at the butterflies. They were trying to choke him, now.
"What was that, Seven?"

"Nothing, Lead," Myn replied, realizing at once that his comm was still broadcasting. "Just talking to myself, sir."

"Be careful, Captain, or we’ll send you back to the Wraiths for being crazy," Tycho threatened.

"Skies forbid," Myn replied with mock-horror.

"Okay, folks, lock it up," Wedge said seriously, but Myn still heard the amusement in his voice. "And Seven, stop talking to yourself. Unless, of course, you have ambitions to be an actor like Face?"

"No, sir!" But Myn laughed anyway.

"Well, then, if we have your permission, we’ll prepare for hyperspace."

Donos grinned. "Granted, Lead."

"Very well. Rogues– " Wedge cut off, but his voice came back after a moment, all traces of amusement gone. "Rogues," he repeated, "we have a new mission. Polearm Squadron has been ambushed on a mission to Jomark. They’ve managed to withdraw and hide; since we’re the closest unit, we’ll go bail them out. Our mission is to discourage pursuit and escort the Polearms home."

"Nine working on a course," Horn reported immediately. The seconds that ticked by seemed like hours to Myn. Another squadron, ambushed… that brought back too many memories. And it brought back the butterflies. New mission, new butterflies, he reflected. I wonder what’s bothering me so much. Corran’s voice came back. "Transmitting course now. Estimated time of arrival will be ninety-four standard minutes."

Donos looked down at the course. It cut corners, sure, but when the lives of fellow pilots were in danger – A-wing jockeys or not – it paid to cut corners.

"Good job, Nine," Wedge replied. "Rogue Squadron, form up on me and come up to speed."

Myn checked his comm board, making sure that he wasn’t broadcasting. "Clink, we good to go?" he asked. His astromech’s reply was a happy twerp. "Thought so," Myn replied, "but I had to ask.

Clink bleated at him, but before Myn could compose a suitable reply, Wedge spoke again. "Hyperspace in five, four, three, two, one, mark!"

Myn jerked the lever, then the stars dissolved into white lines around his cockpit.

Myn inverted and dove relative to the planet’s surface. "Eight, where are you?" he demanded. "I’m in trouble here!" Both squints fired relentlessly on his heels, and despite his constant dancing, he couldn’t shake them.

"Eight’s gone, Seven," reported Tycho Celchu’s subdued voice. "Two is on the way."

"I read you, Two, and hurry." Myn doubled his concentration. These guys were good.

"Two, you see to Four. I’m closer to Seven," Wedge Antilles ordered.

"As ordered." Myn frowned. It had to be bad if the unit’s most experienced wingpair broke up to engage separately.

Clink screamed as a shot nailed the stern of Myn’s X-wing. "I know, Clink, I know," Myn yelled back. "Just hang in there a moment longer and see what you can fix while I nail this sucker…" Donos jerked up on the stick suddenly, with a maneuver so steep that his internal gravitational compensator couldn’t keep up with it. He felt blood rise into his skull, but ignored it and broke hard to port. There! Suddenly, in front of him was one of the two Interceptors that had been dogging him. He fired, and watched it explode into a beautiful ball of fire. "Where’s the other one, Clink?"

"Looks like you didn’t need so much help, after all, Seven," Leader’s voice said lightly. "I got his friend for you."

"Thanks," Myn grunted. His head hurt, and smoke was still floating through his cockpit from an earlier hit.

"No problem," Wedge replied. "Rogues, Polearms, report in. The last ones are bugging out."

"Probably to get reinforcements," Wes snarled.

"Probably," Wedge acknowledged. "But let’s get some rest while we can, Five."

"I’m not objecting," Janson said.

"Polearm Four, here, Rogue Leader," an alien voice reported. "I’ve got one engine out and not much fuel left, but shields are holding."

"Polearm Nine has no shields and only one laser cannon left," a Bothan voice said. "And a likewise fuel situation. I’ve got just enough to make hyperspace."

"Polearm Ten, no lasers, two missiles, shields okay. Fuel the same."

Myn glanced out of his cockpit. There were only three A-wings out there, he noticed. Only three left, from a whole squadron…

"Rogue One, out of torps, minimal shields and new debris scaring," Wedge reported.

"Two, one engine out, fuel getting low," Tycho said.

"Three here. I’ve got three engines out and am barely in control." Myn looked at Nadir Forse. The Sullustan’s X-wing looked terrible, and was barely flying straight.

"Hold it together as long as you can, Three," Wedge replied, his voice sounding dour.

"Leader, this is Four. I hate this place – the weather sucks, there’s too many Imps, and my two rear engines are on fire," Hobbie said. "Can we go home now?"

"We’re working on it, Four," Tycho replied tersely. This is bad, Myn thought. Even Tych sounds depressed.

"Rogue Five here, Wedge," Major Janson said lightly. "I’d be good if I had shields and more fuel."

"Six here, Leader." Myn double taked, looking toward Gavin’s fighter. Gavin’s voice sounded pained. His X-wing matched it. "I think I’m almost out of this one. I can make it into hyperspace, but not much further."

"Tell us if it gets worse, Gavin," Wedge ordered.

Myn hit his comm unit’s button. "Seven has a sluggish stick and minimal control," he reported. Donos glanced down. "And I’ve got no shields."

"Nine has some new scars, two torps left, and my fuel state sucks," Commander Horn replied.

"Doesn’t all of ours?" Inyri Forge replied. "Twelve is down shields and is missing a meter of s-foil, Leader."

"All right, Rogues, Polearms, here’s what we’ll do," Wedge said slowly. "I’ve all ready sent a message off to Coruscant reporting our situation. Now we’ll get out of here with all possible speed."

"Leader, Nine here," Corran said. "Doesn’t that compromise operational security?"

"Yes it does, Nine, but do you have any better ideas?"

"I wish."

Both squadrons fell silent for a moment. Don’t we all wish, Myn reflected. We’ve all lost friends out here today.

Tycho cut into their reveries. "Transmitting escape vector and course, Leader," he said. "Let’s go home."

A chorus of agreements echoed over the comm, but Myn’s butterflies were back. What’s wrong with me? We’re going home.

"Leader, Nine," Horn said urgently. "We need to leave now."

"Copy, Nine – oh, Sithspit." Clink let out a scream of droid terror, and Myn reflexively looked around for new threats.

He wasn’t disappointed.

From the confines of hyperspace, a Super Star Destroyer was emerging. But it looked wrong… Oh, skies… that’s an Eclipse. Myn thought. Inyri Forge voiced his next thought. "We are so dead," she said.

A second later, Myn felt his X-wing rock as the Eclipse’s gravity well projectors powered up. The butterflies jumped around his stomach in full force as a wing of TIEs emerged from the giant destroyer’s hanger bay.

Wedge’s voice sounded heavy. "Rogues, Polearms, break by wings and engage. May the Force be with you all," he said.

Myn broke left. "Rogue Twelve, you’re my wing," he said.

"As ordered," Inyri replied tightly.

"Leader, Five. Are those Defenders?" Janson asked.

Myn noticed Wedge’s X-wing already diving. "They are, Five, they are," the general replied. The butterflies in Myn’s gut turned into a solid chunk of cordite. He inverted and broke to starboard, firing as fast as his lasers would cycle.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Exiting hyperspace now, General," Captain Nomana reported.

Han Solo stood from his command chair on the Republic’s Entente. He hated this kind of work, because you were more likely not to find what you were looking for… "Very we- Sons of the Sith!" he cursed.

X-wing and A-wing parts littered the space around the MC-94 Star Cruiser. There were at least ten fire gored A-wings nearby, and three X-wings spun helplessly throughout space. Horrorstruck, he watched through the viewport as one of them collided with the flagship’s shields and exploded. It was funny, though, that there weren’t enough X-wings out there. And there weren’t many TIE fighter pieces, either. If Rogue Squadron died out here, they’d have left a lot more of a mess…

Han moved closer to the grisly scene. There were bodies out there… could they be alive? He spun away from the viewport. "Captain!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Myn Donos was floating, and the taste in the back of his throat was awful. He forced his eyes open. He was floating in a sea of… pink? This has to be a dream. Somebody, a… Bothan? was gesturing at him, gesturing for him to go somewhere. Maybe this isn’t a dream. I don’t dream of pink Bothans. Oh, the Bothan was gesturing for him to go up. Myn happily obliged.

A mechanical hand removed the breath mask from his face, and Myn found himself reflexively spitting out bacta. A bacta tank… that’s were I was. But why…?

Unfortunately, he remembered.

Smoke and gasses stung his eyes. "Seven is hit, Seven is hit!" he gasped over the comm. He struggled with the stick. It was early in the fight, he had to hold it together. He couldn’t let his squadmates down!

* * * * * * * * * *

Captain Myn Donos, New Republic Starfighter Command, shifted uneasily on his feet. He stood outside General Cracken’s office, eagerly awaiting news of Rogue Squadron. In the two weeks since the ambush, Myn had clung to the hope that some of his squadmates might have survived. He could not have failed another squadron… No one knew if the Rogues had run or were captured… or both.

The door opened. "Come in, Captain," Cracken said. Myn stepped inside, his eyes darting around, as if he could find a clue to his fellow Rogue’s whereabouts just by looking around the room. "Sit down."

Myn sat. "General, I –"

Cracken waved him into silence. "You want to know about your squadmates."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, we don’t know exactly where they are, but we know that at least some of them are being held by the Imps. In the mean time, we’re going to rebuild Rogue Squadron," Cracken explained.

"They’re not dead, sir," Myn objected.

"No, they’re not," Cracken agreed. "But as far as the New Republic is concerned, until we find them, they are. The rebuilt squadron will handle the rescue mission, among other things."

"Like public relations," Donos grunted.

Cracken smiled; it was a tight humorless smile. "Yes," he confirmed. "After we get the Rogues back, the replacement pilots will return to their original squadrons."

Myn took a deep breath. At least they hadn’t abandoned the Rogues. "So if you don’t mind me asking, sir, what’s my part in all this?"

Cracken looked down at the datapad lying on his desk. "You have a choice, Captain," he replied. "You can either remain with the rebuilt Rogue Squadron and help find your squadmates, or return to training squadron duty. Either way, you’ll be back with the Rogues when we get them back.

"I’ll stay, sir." There was not question about that. Myn Donos was not going to let another squadron down.

"Good." Cracken glanced up. "Dismissed."

Myn rose and turned to leave, but one last question occurred to him. "Umm, sir…?"

"Yes?" Cracken was absorbed in the datapad’s contents once more.

"Who will be commanding the Rogues, sir?" Donos wondered.

Cracken let out a semi-amused snort. "You’ll find out, Captain," he said, then looked up at him again. The General’s eyes were full of a kind of Corellian mischief that Donos knew all too well. "That is all."

Myn saluted, waited for Cracken to return it, and left. Maybe now I can get some sleep, he reflected. Now that I know they’re working to get my friends back.

Myn awakened to an insistent buzzing. "Mmmmm," he mumbled, swatting at the annoying alarm. "Shuf up… Ooph!" Myn had managed smack the offending alarm chrono, but in the process he’d knocked himself off the bunk. The buzzing continued to harass him from where he lay sprawled on the floor.

"Damn you!" he hissed, grabbing the chrono. I was blinking 0:00. In other words, it was broken. He, of course, had broken it, too. But then what was that buzzing…?

Myn slapped himself in the forehead. It was his comlink that was making the racket. He picked it up and turned it on. "Donos," he grunted.

The voice was female, generic, recorded. "Captain Donos, please report to the X-wing simulator room in fifteen standard minutes," it said. Myn hated that voice.

Myn groaned and looked at his personal chrono, which he’d managed not to break yet. It read 07:08. Damn, he thought. I probable slept through the buzzing since 07:00, which means I have seven minutes to get in my flight suit and down there!

* * * * * * * * * *

The wall chrono read 07:20 when Myn ran into the training complex. A simulator stood open for him, with Clink, whom the Republic’s Entente had rescued, waiting in the droid socket. Clink twittered disapprovingly at him.

"I know I’m late, Clink, I know," Myn snapped irritably as he dropped into the pilot’s couch. "Forgive me if I’ve only been awake for all of ten minutes!" Donos slammed the hatch shut and strapped himself in. "Rogue Seven, four lit and ready to go," he reported as the sim came to life. He knew that someone had to be listening.

His comm crackled. "This is Red One, Captain," a half-amused, half-sarcastic male voice said. "Thanks for being on time. You’ll be designated Red Two for the duration of this mission."

"As ordered," Myn replied. Let’s hope I haven’t ruined this thing before it starts.

"This mission is based on the Katana Fleet capture," Red One said. "Mission Order One is to protect the dreadnaughts and the commando’s shuttles from Thrawn’s fighters. All the TIEs are fair game. We hyper in five…"

Myn grimaced. That mission had been drawn by all of Rogue Squadron and had still ultimately been a failure. "Lead, do we have any fighter support?" he asked.

"Nope."

Myn glared at the comm. This is unbelievable. I’m a Rogue, sure, but this is really impossible. Clink whistled that it was time to jump.

"Okay, okay," Myn sighed. "Let’s go." He yanked the lever, sending his x-wing into simulated hyperspace. Moments later, though, Clink beeped to indicate that it was ten seconds until exit. Myn snorted. "I love fake hyperspace jumps," he grumbled.

Clink bleated – spoilsport.

"Whatever. I don’t know why I’m in this sim, anyway," he replied, but obligingly pulled the snubfighter out of simulated hyperspace.

Right into a swarm of TIEs.

Laser fire splashed against his front shields, and Red One’s voice came immediately. "S-foils into attack position," he said calmly. "Two, you’re my wing."

Myn opened his mouth to reply, but Red One was already cutting across his path, breaking port after a TIE Interceptor and its wingman that were vectoring in on an assault shuttle. Silently, Myn hit the s-foil acuator and followed suit even as the rear squint evaporated under One’s guns. The leader didn’t last much longer, but ahead, something caught Donos’ eye.

"One, Two, we have four incoming. They’re heading straight for us."

"Copy," One replied calmly. "You take high, I’ll take low."

The four blips resolved into shapes on Myn’s targeting computer’s screen. "Leader, heads up," he advised. "The low two are Defenders."

"Copy that, Red Two," Leader said. "You take care of your two, and I’ll take care of mine."

Myn found himself not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the man’s confidence. He sighed – after all, this was only a simulator run. At least no one could get killed. Not for the first time, he wondered who he had gotten paired up with.

Leader broke port again, inverting and gliding relatively down, as compared to the hulls of the distant dreadnaughts. Time to snap out of it, Myn reminded himself, and kill some squints. He rolled to starboard and weaved, watching the team of Interceptors’ laser bolts flying harmlessly past him. They’re just far enough apart, he thought, that if I’m careful, this’ll work. Quickly, he switched over to proton torpedoes and took careful aim.

Clink sounded a solid tone, and the target glowed red on the computer. Myn fired, and the lead Interceptor blew into a spectacular cloud. Sidestepping to port to avoid it, Myn then slammed down the right rudder pedal, sending his fighter spiraling to starboard once again. His gravitational compensator almost betrayed him, but he hung on tight and brought his sights around… There he is! Myn fired, lasers this time, and scored a direct hit on the Interceptor’s port engine. He allowed a bit of lateral drift, just enough to move a little to the right of his enemy. Then the squint veered sharply to starboard, away from the guns that had just hit him.

And right back into Myn’s sights. Myn fired once more, and the Interceptor disappeared into a ball of flame.

"Leader, where are you?" he asked, looking around for his wing.

"Come to point-seven-five and I’ll bring you a friend," was Red One’s ironic reply. Just then, Donos spotted him. He was jinxing through trio’s laser fire, dancing and spiraling in so that no shots were touching him. He’s good, Myn thought as Leader suddenly broke left and vaped a squint that had attempted to head-to-head him.

"On my way, One," Myn reported, vectoring to point-seven-five in a smooth arch. Suddenly, his fighter jerked, and Clink’s scream came simultaneously with the wail of his proximity alarm. "Where is he Clink?"

Clink screeched as more laser bolts hit the x-wing. Myn knew from the droid’s tone that the enemy fighter was behind him, so he junked and twisted back on his own course, but the TIE stayed with him. Risking a look over his shoulder, Myn saw that it wasn’t an eyeball, or even a squint – it was a trio. And worse yet, there were two of them on his tail. "Leader, I think I’m gonna be a little late," Myn said tightly.

"On the way, Two."

And he said he was busy… Donos mused. "Make it quick, please," he requested banking hard to port and praying that he’d shake at least one of them –

But he had no such luck. Both defenders stayed with, doggedly remaining on his tail. More laser fire ate away at the stern of his fighter, and Myn hit the brakes, trying to make them overfly him, but again, they stayed with him. Suddenly, red laser fire splashed to either side of his x-wing, and the fighter rocked as one of his pursers exploded. Red One had arrived.

"Break port, Two."

Myn complied immediately, praying that Red One could kill the other trio before it vaped him. On his sensor board, he saw the other x-wing loop tightly and tuck in behind the remaining trio. Donos continued weaving, avoiding some of the trio’s laser fire – but not enough of it. Clink screamed as one bolt nailed and knocked out his aft port engine. Yelling at the droid to shut it down, Myn corkscrewed more to port, but even more fire chewed away at his stern. Reinforcing his dying rear shields, Myn desperately hauled up on the stick.

"Could use some help here, Lead," he hissed through clenched teeth. He angrily let loose a volley of laser bolts at a hapless Interceptor wandering into his sights and watched as one of its wings sheared off. Its wingman came in at him, and suddenly Donos found himself sandwiched between two TIEs. "Where are you, One?" he demanded.

His answer was a snapshot over his head that turned the squint into a bright gas cloud. Moments later, the trio’s image winked out on his sensor board.

"Two, this is Leader," came the ice-cool voice of his wingman. "Pardon the wait; I was busing vaping a pair of trios that wanted to eat you for lunch."

Myn found himself almost unwillingly amused – it was only a simulator, after all. "I guess I’ll have to excuse it this time, Leader," he replied with mock-seriousness. "This time."

The answer was light. "Ha! Just so long as you don’t put me on report – oops!… Heads up, Two, you’re my wing. We have a flight incoming from point three-seven."

"Oh, goody," Myn said sarcastically, wondering Will this ever end? to himself. "At least they’re dupes," he commented as the slow moving bombers came in at them.

"Stay close and try to preserve your shields if you can," Leader ordered.

Donos heaved a sigh of relief. "As ordered," he said gratefully. Leader dove sharply, and Myn followed as closely as he dared – meters closer than he’d have dreamed of trying before he joined the Rogues – noticing that his wingman was a superior pilot. He’d give Wedge a run for his money, even. Red One sideslipped to port, and they were suddenly engulfed in the dupes’ green laser fire.

"Take the starboard pair, Two," Leader ordered. "Break on my mark."

"You got it," Myn replied, feeling his confidence building up again – this run was getting fun. Hell, it might be impossible, but I’m a Rogue – that’s what I do best. The distance closed rapidly, and though the dupes’ lasers continued to occasionally splash against Myn’s wingman’s shields, Donos was content to wait for the order. Finally, it came.

"Meet me on the other side, Two. Mark."

Myn grinned. Showtime! He cut speed, dove, and twisted his guns around to trail the dupes. Without any preamble, he opened up and sprayed the follower with deadly laser fire and watched it disappear into a fireball that might have been pretty, had it been part of a fireworks show. Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, Myn saw Leader easily dancing between his two targets, dispatching of the first then driving the second straight through its partner’s debris cloud. Myn returned his attention to the job at hand, though, and scored a direct hit on the last bomber’s cockpit. This is almost too easy! The TIE spun out of control, its pilot dead but its engines still working. He sided up to Red One just as his partner polished off another eyeball.

"What’s next, Lead?"

There was a short pause, then, "We’re done for the day, Two. Let’s head back to the barn," was the reply.

Just when it was getting fun… Donos opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden click signaled the end of communications and his cockpit went black. Clink let out a droid sigh of relief, clearly not feeling Myn’s adrenaline rush. Unstrapping himself out of the pilot’s couch and popping open the cockpit, Myn swung out to he simulator. A few meters away, one of the room’s other x-wing "cockpits" was opening as well. A slight figure dressed in a standard New Republic orange flight suit emerged, faced Donos, and removed his helmet.

"Captain Donos," the human said, stepping forward and offering his hand. "Good flying in there."

"Thank you…" Myn trailed off until he noticed the General’s decade of dots. "Sir."

The general’s handshake was quick, strong. "I’m Luke Skywalker," he said easily. "I’ll be building the temporary Rogue Squadron."

* * * * * * * * * *

"My name… is General Nact Kargin," the black-haired handsome man said slowly. "I am the founder and glorious leader of the Hawk-Bats! I am undefeated! I am invincible! I am – "

A slim, beautiful Twi’lek had clapped a hand over his mouth, while the vessel’s pilot turned in his seat and complained. "He’s performing already, the muscled human male said dourly.

"And we don’t even know if he’ll get the part," a long-eared furry creature continued. "We think the major is rehearsing too early."

The major jerked away from the Twi’lek. "Nonsense!" he roared. "I am playing no part and I require no rehearsal! I am General Kargin, the extraordinare, the sublime – ooph!"

This time his companion had chosen to tackle him, rather than just shut him up. "Dial it back a bit, Face, will you?" Dia Passik asked.

He rubbed his head where it had smacked the starboard instrument panel in their Lambda-class shuttle, the Narra. "Sure, Dia," Major Garik "the Face" Loran grumbled.

A pig-like grunt came from the rear of the cockpit in agreement. "Besides," Voort "Piggy" saBinring pointed out through his translator. "There is no evidence to support the theory that we will be using the Hawk-Bat guise again – or anything like it.

"Party crashers," Face grumbled.

Captain Kell Tainer yelled over his shoulder from the pilot’s seat. "Strap in Wraiths; we’re about to enter atmosphere." He grinned. "Unless you want to add to the Narra’s ceiling décor, of course," he added.

Face grimaced and returned to his seat. "No, thanks," their squadron/intelligence unit commander said dismissively. "I’ll pass. Besides, we wouldn’t want to make Shalla clean up the mess, after all."

Lieutenant Shalla Nelprin, their unarmed combat instructor, flexed a muscular arm and offered a predatory grin. "Try me," she said.

Kell keyed the in-shuttle intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please return your seats to the full and upright position and prepare for docking. Thank you for travelling on Doran Spaceways."

Face let out a whoop, earning a smack on the back of the head from Runt, who merely said, "We are glad it is finally over."

"Hey, I’m not that bad!" Kell yelped from the cockpit, as one of the newest team members piped up. "What is the point to all this stupid foolishness?" the human code-slicer demanded to the air, which promptly ignored him. "It’s pointless. We’re not getting any work done."

"I believe that our squadmates find it amusing," the Wookie seated next to him replied through her mechanical translator, which was similar to Piggy’s.

Demonas, the slicer, snorted. "Do you?"

Payaccka let out a low, rumbling, Wookie laugh. "Yes! This group is most amusing." She flashed her teeth at Demonas, who shrank back from her momentarily.

"But it’s pointless!" he snapped after he recovered.

Payaccka laughed again. "It’s funny."

"Hey, Pay!" Face called from the port side of the shuttle. "What are you laughing at?"

The gray and brown-haired Wookie caught the humor in her commander’s voice. She opened her mouth in another wide, feral grin. "You!"

Face smiled. "Just so that’s clear," he said, snorting. "You see, I was making sure that you weren’t laughing at poor Demonas. He probably wouldn’t understand."

The human slicer reddened as the rest of the squad laughed. "Take it easy, Barke," Shalla warned her wingman. "We’re just messing with you. It’s a Wraith Squadron tradition."

Demonas frowned. "You guys are crazy," he replied.

Face disagreed. "Nope. We’re Wraiths."

Tyria chimed in. "And you’re one, too, Barke."

"So you’d better learn to be crazy," Shalla added.

"Or we’ll just feel obliged to drive you insane," Dia concluded.

The Narra landed with a thump. "We’re here," Kell announced.

"Ah, Coruscant, Jewel of the Republic, how do I love thee," Face began. "Let me count the ways…"

Dia, Shalla, Tyria, Kell, and Piggy all exclaimed together: "Face!"

"All right, all right! I know. I’ll stop performing. Republic audiences are always the toughest, he confided in Payaccka, who grinned.

Kell stood from the pilot’s seat, narrowly squeezing his tall frame around the shuttle’s instrumentation. "Are we leaving or not?" he demanded.

"Yup," Face replied, rocketing out of his seat. "Let’s go."

* * * * * * * * * *

Myn waited on the landing pad, six meters off the Narra’s bow. He could barely keep the grin off his face – it would be good to see the Wraiths again, even if it took a tragedy to do it… He frowned momentarily. I just hope the Wraiths will be up to the task. It’s been a long time since they’ve flown, probably.

Then Face was leading them down the ramp. "Face!" he called, waving to the actor-turned-squadron commander. "Excuse me, Major Loran," he grinned as the Wraiths grew closer.

"Myn Donos," Face deadpanned. "Fancy meeting you here." Then the Wraiths were around him, greeting him and welcoming him back into their crazed family. Backslaps and handshakes were exchanges, old jokes were revived…and for the first time, Myn felt a part of his old squadron, and not like the outsider he’d been before he healed from the wounds caused by the loss of Talon Squadron.

"So tell me," Kell was saying. "How does it feel to be part of a sane squadron?"

"Do you miss us?"