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Author	Topic: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 1/23 11:28pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Sis, Thank you so much - that was wonderful - I will be writing the rest of the Life Day celebration as soon as I can. Love your brother, Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 2/2 8:17am Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	How they got Lissa to the party I don’t know but it was the best surprise/present that I could have wished for. I hugged her back the best that I could with only one arm and then we had a great time reminiscing about the past, discussing the present, speculating upon the future. I noticed that Lissa still wears the chain with the shell on it I gave her for her eleventh birthday - that seems so long ago. I reached out and gently held up the chain in my hand remembering when my folks gave it to me on the occasion of my first solo flight and then the memories of passing it down to Lissa for a birthday that I almost forgot - her first one with the Rogues. We talked late into the night and just before the party broke up, Wes produced a small bag of red fruit candy - the same kind Jek use to carry with him - and passed it around. I took a piece and broke it in half, offering one half to Lissa just like I did those many years ago, “To friends, past, present and future,” I said as I handed her the piece of candy. Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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SECRETSISTER Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 2/2 8:04pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Oh Wedge.! sniff You make me all weepy! I need to go back and read the fanfic again, just because you brought up those memories. -----signature----- Jedi Outcasts Supreme Chancellor. Ice Cream Queen of the JO Keeper of the Palso Fan Club secret password. The person responsible is the one who did it. - Hubby Every galaxy has a black hole - NOVA
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InyriForge Registered: Jan '02	Date Posted: 2/9 7:19pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Finally here. Sorry; I've been not around the JC as much. I'm bad like that. I liked the update, but I'm a little confused as to who Lissa is. Is she a character from another fanfic? ~Inyri -----signature----- Good things can come from Kessel. "Impossible is what Rogue Squadron does best." Yrie, Handmaiden of the Crest. 99% of the time, I'm just playin' Twin to Lucid_Lady
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 2/10 11:50am Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge - Date Edited: 2/10 12:09pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr
	Sorry for the confussion - yes, Lissa is from another fan fic story written by SecretSister. Here is the link to the story: Secret Sister: Lost and Found Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 2/18 11:49am Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	18 Februar The snow lashed against the windows of the pilot’s room; the deep rumble of thunder shaking the windowpanes and lightening lighting up the skies above the fields - this was one of rural Corellia‘s rare snow storms that came with thunder and lightening. Sighing heavily as I crawled into bed and pulling the covers up, I thought back - today had been just like my other days since we arrived on Corellia: I would get up for breakfast and then spend the next two hours with Wes working on my Physical Therapy for my shoulder, then lunch followed by two more hours of PT, only after that could I relax in the solar hot tub and whirlpool my grandparents had put into the sun porch at the back of the house; the only one who really seemed to be enjoying all this was Wes, I think he has a repressed Sado-Masochistic streak in him - I just felt self-conscious from all the attention and tired from all the work, at times I would much rather have done the PT on my own than with the slave driver. The nightmares had begun again onboard the Pride as we traveled to Corellia but once we had arrived, they got worse; I knew that it had been too much to expect them to have ceased entirely even though I had not suffered from them for some months now. They always began benignly enough - I often dreamt of the good times I had shared with my family while growing up on Corellia and Gus Treta or with the few people I had let get close to me after my parents’ death and joining the rebellion but the dreams quickly deteriorated into scenes of death and destruction; my friends and family calling out to me in their death throes, me unable to help. Tonight’s were no different as I relived - yet again - the battle at the Bilbringi shipyards shortly after the Battle of Endor - one of the rare times I was shot down and forced to go extra-vehicular - all because I had not reported to the Unit’s Flight Surgeon that I was not feeling 100%: at the time I thought it was just the beginning of a slight cold; what it turned out to be was Bilbringi Fever that laid me low, flat on my back in the Med Center for almost two months, with blinding headaches, fever, nausea and vomiting,. If it had not been for my wingman, Wes, seeing the TIE hit my X-Wing and some fast thinking on the Taanabian pilot’s part, I very well would have died as shrapnel from my destroyed cockpit had punctured the shoulders and chest of my flight suit and life support system - within his suit’s self-sealing mag-con field, the I was slowly bleeding to death. I broke out in a cold sweat as shivered in my sleep at the memory of the cold; I struggled out of my sweatshirt, leaving me only in light blue sweatpants and a light weight t-shirt as I curled up tighter around my stuffed Ewok. As the storm raged outside the nightmares continued raging on in my sleep, changing at times to the trench run of the first Death Star, the guilt of having to abandon Luke that far off day because I had been hit still gnawed at my gut, and than back to the original dream. I tossed and turned, throwing the covers to the floor when they threatened to tangle me within their clutches. Still clutching the stuffed Ewok to my chest, I suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, my eyes wide with horror: staring straight ahead, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and wobbly stood. In an unconscious daze, I wondered from my room, down the stairs and out into the living room/dining room area; staggering around the living room I made my way to the kitchen: then I proceeded to do something that I had not done for a long time, not since Endor; rummaging around the refrigerator, I pulled out some cold grilled nerf, made myself a sandwich and poured a glass of blue bantha milk. My eyes still glassy with sleep, I silently ate my ‘midnight’ snack, the stuffed Ewok sitting quietly on the table watching me eat. Finishing, I placed my plate and glass in the sink; I picked up Kettch by a foreleg and headed out of the kitchen and back to bed. Padding back through the common area and up the stairs, I reached the bedroom door and straggled in; laying down on the bed, I tucked Kettch close and pull the covers up under my chin as best as I can with the use of only one arm and hand and drift back into a deep sleep: I do not make a sound nor twitch as muscle when a strong arm reaches around me and pulls me close as the arm’s owner snuggles himself close against my back, murmuring as he does so. The nightmares cease, as though chased off by the comforting presence in the bed with me and in my sleep, I cuddled closer to this protector unaware that there is even anybody else in bed with me. The Corellian morning dawned cold and overcast, the skies over the farm still heavily filled with the promise of more snow; the night’s storm has left piles and drifts of snow behind that the howling wind was blowing around. Me and my unknown protector have slept soundly the remainder of the night, me wrapped lightly in the other’s arms as I held and snuggled Kettch close to me. The sounds and smells of cooking began to waft into the room bit by bit awakening my protector: leaning over he opened his blue eyes, and gazed down at my still sleeping form; slowly Wes became aware of who and what were in his bed. Shaking me, “Wedge, Wedge, wake up and get out of my bed. Force, you don’t belong here, get out and go to your own room. Wedge, come on, please go back to your own bed.” Exhausted from my nightmares, I slept on. Seeing as how he was not going to wake me up, slowly, very slowly, Wes moved to the edge of the bed and eased out of it; quickly retrieving his robe from off a nearby chair and pulling it on as he dashed down the stairs and headed towards the door leading to the living room and kitchen. "Tycho," he yelled as he exited the room, "Hobbie!!! I want to know which one of you thought this one up as a joke," he continued to yell as he made his way to the kitchen. Tycho looked up from his cup of caf as Hobbie continued cooking eggs, bacon and sausage at the cook top. "Wes," Tycho said in his usual calm demeanor, "Neither of us have a clue as to what in all the Hells of Coruscant you are blabbering about." "I am talking about which one of you thought up the cute idea of putting Wedge in my bed in the middle of the night. And with that ratty stuffed Ewok no less." Tycho and Hobbie stared incredulously at Wes then looked at each other before bursting out in gales of laughter. “No one put Wedge in your bed last night, Wes,” Tycho declared, “He’s standing behind you.” I was standing right behind Wes, his getting out of bed and yelling having woken me up, holding Kettch by a forepaw, eyes still glazed with sleep. “Maybe I should ask what you were doing in my room,” I said, “instead of the other way around.” “Wedge, that innocent act isn’t going to work with me and you know it.” “Hey, I can try, can’t I? But really, Wes, I don’t even remember getting up during the night much less going into your room.” “Well, next time you get up during the night, take Kettch and go back to your own bed.” Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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InyriForge Registered: Jan '02	Date Posted: 2/18 3:39pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	ROTFLMAO at the last line. It was good to cut the tension from Wedge's earlier nightmares, too. Because before then, I just wanted to huggle poor Wedge. ~Inyri -----signature----- Good things can come from Kessel. "Impossible is what Rogue Squadron does best." Yrie, Handmaiden of the Crest. 99% of the time, I'm just playin' Twin to Lucid_Lady
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Mitth_Fisto Registered: Sep '05	Date Posted: 2/19 3:03pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Priceless ending with the "we didn't do it Wes" and "he's right behind you"! LOL! It took me forever but I finally caught up to where the story is now after the recomendation, if you could please add me to the PM list I really am looking forwrad to how this goes. -----signature----- Pride before the fall Humility before honor Friendship is unnecessary like philosophy like art It has ho survival value; rather it's one of those things that gives value to survival http://boards.theforce.net/fan_art/b10020/25366431/p1/?79
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 2/19 3:28pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge - Date Edited: 2/19 3:29pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr
	Sure, no problem adding you to the PM list Mitth - in fact, I am glad to do so. Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 2/20 1:58am Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge - Date Edited: 2/20 2:13am (2 edits total) Edited By: Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr
	In response to the February Diary Challenge 20 Februar He's Gone! My room was a shambles; datapads and cards were strewn on the floor, the cushions from the sofa and chairs tossed in a pile, the bed stripped of all its blankets and pillows, the doors to the closet flung open, dresser drawers pulled out and dumped, their contents scattered and books and holos tossed and askew. Wes Janson sat at his desk in his own room next door to his commanding officer's bedroom listening to the cussing and swearing that was accompanying the destruction coming from within. Wes didn't know what set me off but it must be something bad he thought, too afraid to go beyond the door to investigate. If I needed him, I'd yell; Wes just hoped that I wouldn't. Wes had been concentrating on his work and it was several long minutes before he realized that the noise coming from my room had stopped. He set aside his datapad and stood up. Janson knocked softly on the door that separated his bedroom from mine and waited. He received no response so he knocked again, harder this time. Still no response. Slowly he reached for the door control and waited as the door slowly opened. Wes was not prepared for what he saw next; sitting cross-legged in the middle of the chaos was me, Wedge Antilles, the Hero of the Rebellion, my face buried in my hands and my shoulders shaking. Wes stood in the doorway uncertain of what he should do. "Ah, Boss," he asked. "Wedge?" Wes began to thread his way towards his long time friend and commanding officer. As he drew closer, he could hear soft sobs escaping from me. He knelt down next to me and put an arm around my shoulders; Wes had never seen me this upset before, so upset that I would be crying. "What's wrong, Wedge?" "He's gone, Wes. I can't find him anywhere. I've looked all over and I can't find him!" "Who, Wedge? Who can't you find?" Concern was evident in Wes' voice as he tried to get me to look at him by tilting my chin up. My eyes were red-rimmed, my face streaked with tears. "Wedge? Come on, tell me, who can't you find?" "My stuffed Ewok. He was on my brd this morning and now he's gone, Wes." There was pain in every word. "Your what?" "I said my stuffed Ewok. He was here this morning and now he's gone." I sniffed and wiped at the tears on my face with the sleeve of my shirt. Pulling me close to him in a brotherly hug, Wes confessed, "Ah, I know where he is, Wedge. If I'd known you'd get this upset, I'd never have given him to Tycho when I found him to have him cleaned. He was filthy." Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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dm1 Registered: Jun '04	Date Posted: 2/20 1:32pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Cleaned?!? Oh, no, he'll probably fall apart! Don't you know it's the filth from many many years that holds those things together? Sheesh!!! -----signature----- Internet Mom to HSG! Hey, HSG, watch those explosives, be careful!!
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SECRETSISTER Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 2/20 7:06pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Oh geeze! Don't they know better than to do it without consulting the owner first? Slap their hands! Ahhhhh, Wedge...... -----signature----- Jedi Outcasts Supreme Chancellor. Ice Cream Queen of the JO Keeper of the Palso Fan Club secret password. The person responsible is the one who did it. - Hubby Every galaxy has a black hole - NOVA
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Abeja Registered: Apr '07	Date Posted: 2/24 12:56am Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Great update- and poor Wedge- no taking away stuffed Ewoks from their owners! Thanks for the PM. -----signature----- e-sister of Rosa-Belle "Give every day the chance to become the best day of your life." http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=27935778&brd=10476&replies=0 Shadow Bird
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InyriForge Registered: Jan '02	Date Posted: 2/24 4:49pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	Finally here! hugs to Wedge I reacted similarly when my mom removed my pound puppy from my bed when I went away to college. That dog now still sits on my bed to this day, even though I haven't lived there for years. ~Inyri -----signature----- Good things can come from Kessel. "Impossible is what Rogue Squadron does best." Yrie, Handmaiden of the Crest. 99% of the time, I'm just playin' Twin to Lucid_Lady
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Wedge_Antilles_Cmdr Title: Fanforce New Hampshire Secretary Registered: May '02	Date Posted: 3/6 12:45pm Subject: RE: Snowy, Snowy Night - Wedge’s Diary/Journal for the 2008 Diary challenge
	6 Mar “Will you two mynocks sit down and relax, I’ll never get any rest if you don’t stop hovering over me and leave me alone,” I growled. “Awww, come on, Wedge - you promised to take us,” a voiced in front of me whined. I looked up from my pillow and gave Wes one of my patented Commanding Officer glares, a look that said stop it or you wont go. “Yeah, you promised that if Wes, Tycho, you and I vaped both the Rogues and the Wraiths in the sims you’d take us to Wal-mart.” Hobbie, whose usually mournful features were anything but, was practically beside himself with his eagerness of wanting to get out of the house and go to the local Wal-Mart located near my grandparent’s ranch on Corellia. “Hobbie, just what is this sudden fascination you’ve developed with that nasty place? Let alone with shopping,” I queried the mournful Rogue. “I think it’s the cute little cashier at the chocolate counter,” Wes Janson said needling his friend. Hobbie crossed his arms over his chest and slumped down into the cushions of the easy chair in my room where the four of us were talking after they woke me from my nap, “Is not, Wes,” he stated flatly, the tone of his voice resonating with hurt. “They’re right, Wedge, you did promise to take them to Wal- Mart after the exercises.” “I know Tych, but you’d think the way these two are behaving, I’d promised to take them to the amusement park, take them on all the rides, buy them corn dogs and cotton candy and let them have their holos taken with the giant mouse that lives there.” I sighed and sat up on the edge of my bed, walked over to my computer and began reviewing the data from the sims the visiting Rogues and Wraiths had gone through earlier in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes later, “Aren’t you finished yet, Wedge? It’s getting late and I want to get there before they close – I’ve got lots of things I have to buy and I need time to pick just the right ones,” declared Wes, walking over to peer at the chrono on my computer; he was beside himself in anticipation and eagerness to go to what I consider to be the nastiest place on the planet - in the galaxy for that matter. Finally, not being able to take anymore of his and Hobbie’s fidgeting, I stood and stretched my tight shoulder muscles, “Fine, we’ll go - now.” I put my computer into the standby mode and grabbed my leather flight jacket and the keycard to my personal speeder, with Tycho by my side, I headed out of my room. “Well, aren’t you two coming,” I called back over my shoulder as I shrugged my jacket on; I heard them scurrying to catch up as I strode down the hallway and the stairs, out of the house to the garage where the speeder was housed. This was going to be the first time I drove since getting my arm out of the sling several days before. “I call shotgun,” Wes declared as I unlocked the garage and raised the door. “Hey, you can’t do that Wes, you road shotgun last time we went someplace with Wedge; today it’s my turn,” Hobbie protested vehemently. “Too bad Hobbs, I called it first so I get it - don’t I Wedge. That’s the rule, whoever calls shotgun first, gets it, that’s what Wedge said,” Wes countered. I rolled my eyes and looked at Tych, “You brought this on yourself, you know,” he said in a low voice, a smile creeping across his aristocratic features, “You know better than to take them anywhere where they are not in their own X-Wings.” “I know, I know,” I replied mournfully, regretting my decision to take this outing, as we approached my speeder; putting on my dark sunglasses, “Ok, official command decision – Wes, you can ride up front there and Hobbie on the way back - now shut up and get in, the lot of you.” Wes turned to Hobbie and stuck his tongue out at his friend - Hobbie responded by making a face of his own. I just sighed, started the speeder and took off in the direction of the local Wal-Mart. I have to admit, I drive my speeder much the way I fly an X-Wing – fast, very fast - if it were hyperdrive equipped, I’d use it - I take corners tight and if you’re not strapped in you run the risk of either being hurt or thrown out if I have the top down; I raced through the lanes of Coronet traffic and a short time later I pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot and found a space to park the speeder. Wes and Hobbie jumped out and head towards the main doors; Tycho followed them. “Hey, Wedge, come on, you’re paying for this little excursion you know,” called Wes. “Yeah, that was part of the deal, Wedge,” Hobbie echoed. Tycho turned to look at me pleadingly, “Please, Wedge, don’t make me go in there alone with these two ‘children’.” I heaved a heavy sigh as I stood up and vaulted over the edge of the door, taking the keycard with me. “Can’t I just give Tych my Debit Card to my checking account, you know how much I hate this place and I don’t know why I said this is where we’d go other then you two,” I pointed to Wes and Hobbie, “insisted that this is where you wanted to go so I agreed just to shut you up.” I walked around the speeder and joined the trio of my pilots. “Let’s hurry and get this over with, shall we,” I said as we headed towards the store. As we entered the automatic doors, we were greeted by one of the ubiquitous blue aproned ‘clones’ with the plastic smile; I shudder anytime one of them comes near me – can’t stand that ever present smile, reminds me of a demented Ewok: sometime I think it is their permanent expression and the only one they are capable of – personally, I hate it; and what’s worse, they fawn all over you - I hang to the back, letting Wes and Hobbie take point. “Come on, Wedge,” Wes calls out as he grabs me by my good arm, “Up here with us, we’ve got things to show you.” “Wes, just let me bring up the rear, I could see just fine from where I was,” I tell him, trying to pull out of the bone breaking grip he has on my wrist. “No, you’re staying up here with us, Tycho can watch our backs, can’t ya Tych,” Wes stated as he dragged us to the toy department and headed straight to the model X-Wings, Y-Wings, B-Wings and A-Wings, passing the Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa Solo, assorted dolls of other Rebellion hero dolls, and Darth Vader. “Wes, what do you want with a model ‘Wing, after all, you do have a real one of your very own.” “Oh, that’s a secret, Boss so I can’t tell you,” Wes answered. “And it’s one I intend to keep - at least for awhile.” A chill ran up and down my spine at the thought that what Wes wanted was a secret; that was not a good sign and it usually meant trouble for me. “Hey Hobbie, why don’t you take Wedge-boy here to the chocolate counter and pick out something,” Wes declared, “Tycho, stay with me please?” Tycho who has been quiet up til now spoke up, “It’s ok Wedge, go with Hobbie - I'll stay here and keep an eye on Wes.” “You sure about that, Tych? I feel really bad leaving you alone to deal with Wes.” I give Wes one of my best Commander’s stare hoping he catches the hint to behave. “Yeah, go on, we’ll be fine here - go with Hobbie and make sure he doesn’t break you buying too much chocolate and sweets.” I let Hobbie lead me away, all the time wondering what Wes is up to. We reached the chocolate counter shortly, “Oh pretty, what do we blow up first,” Hobbie cooed as his blue eyes roamed over the delectable array of sweet treats encased within the counter - then he began to pick out chocolate X-Wings and pilots, caramel and nut clusters covered in chocolate, chocolate covered legume clusters and chocolate mint melt-aways along with a variety of other assorted chocolates and candies. “Hobbie, I think you’ve got enough there, I don’t want you puking in your X-Wing because you tried to eat all that at once.” “Don’t worry, Wedge, I wont, I promise,” Hobbie answered me as he continued to pick out more assorted sweets, including something that looked like miniature Death Stars in rainbow colors. While Hobbie was loading up on chocolate and candy, Wes and Tycho were busy in the toy department with Wes picking out a multitude of toy models and stuffed animals. About thirty minutes later, we met up again at the checkout; I gave Wes a quizzical look - whatever he picked out in the toy department was already bought and bagged. “Tycho paid Wedge, you’re off the hook on this one,” he said with a conspiratorial glance at my second in command. “Uh huh,” I replied, even more worried and suspicious about what Wes was up to than I was before. We headed out to the speeder with Wes and Hobbie in the lead; I walked with Tych behind them, “What did you let him buy Tycho?” “Sorry Wedge, I promised him I wouldn’t tell; you’ll find out soon enough.” I looked to Tycho and glared at him, “What do you mean by that,” I demanded. Tycho held my stare, “Don’t worry, Chief, I didn’t let him get anything that could be considered dangerous – to either himself or others.” “Ok, I trust your judgment, Tych,” I stated as we reached the speeder. I clicked the automatic door release and we all piled in - I didn’t say a word on the drive back the ranch while Tycho, Wes and Hobbie had a very animated conversation; Wes’ keeping secret what he bought was eating away at me - whenever he got like this, I knew it meant trouble in some form for me. Squadron work and patrol and escort duties kept the Rogues fairly busy over the next two weeks and then they finally got some downtime; on the second day I headed to the kitchen to get something for breakfast but both Hobbie and Tycho blocked the way out of my room - I pushed past them but they blocked my way again; Wes was nowhere to be seen. “Sorry Wedge, the kitchen and downstairs is off limits to everyone right now, just tell us what you want and we’ll have Emtrey bring it to your bedroom,” Tycho stated matter of factly. “Besides, you are still suppose to be taking it easy and you have been working - back to bed with you.” “Ok, Tych, why is it off limits to me and everyone else?” “Can’t tell you Wedge, sorry, but the orders came from Ackbar’s office directly to me.” “So why wasn’t I told,” I demanded, “I am still the commanding officer here!” I was beginning to get very angry over this whole thing. “Wedge, just tell Hobbie what you want for breakfast and lunch, he’ll get it ordered and see to it that is it delivered to you room; in fact, let me walk you back to your bed - the kitchen will be open for dinner at 1800 hours tonight, as to why you weren’t notified, I don’t know,” Tycho uncharacteristically lied to me, “Come on, let’s go back to your quarters,” he said leading me away from the top of the stairs and back to my room. As we walked back, Tycho turned to Hobbie and told him to bring us something for breakfast, we would comm him back later with a lunch order; other than that we walked in silence - I was in no mood to talk to anyone, not even one of my best friends: we spent the rest of the day working in my room which had been set up to double as an office; every time I wanted or needed something, Tycho insisted that he be allowed to go and get it - something was a foot and Tycho, Wes and Hobbie did not want me to know what was going on, at about 1500 hours, I finally told Tych he could go, I wanted to lie down before dinner; really what I wanted to do was think and talk things out with myself; Corellians are known for talking to themselves and I am no exception. Meanwhile in the kitchen and the downstairs, Wes was busy, with the help of the rest of the Rogues and all of the Wraiths, transforming it into looking like my boyhood home on Gus Treta, only with some changes and modifications. About an hour later, after tossing, turning, and talking to myself, I got up only to be met by Tycho at the door of my room, “You need something, Chief?” “No, I just was going to go the kitchen to get something to eat, there’s nothing in my food refrigeration center that I am interested in.” “What do you want me to go and I’ll get for you,” Tycho asked, his hands on his hips, blocking my way out of my own room. “I don’t know what I want Tych, I’ll decide when I get there and see what we have to offer in the way of nourishment.” “No can do, Wedge, the kitchen is still closed until 1800 hours, sorry, either I go and get you something, or comm Hobbie and have him bring you something to you - what’s it going to be?” “Nothing, I’ll just wait until dinner,” I sighed. “Ok, but if you decide what you want, I’ll be right next door working off of Wes’s computer - if not, I will get you at 1800 hours to go to dinner.” I retreated back into my room and flopped down on the couch; soon Emote** toddled out of his nest, climbed up into my lap and stretched out on top of me, resting his head on my shoulder, “Wedge not feel good? Shoulder hurt? Emote help make better,” he said in his singsong Basic as he took my arm in one of his small paws. I wrapped my left arm, the one that I had had surgery on, around him and ruffled his fur, “No, I’m fine Emote, just trying to figure out what Wes is up to - he’s up to something and I don’t know what it is. Whadda say we take a nap until Tych and Emic get here for dinner and forget about Wes for a while?” “I like idea. Take nap now. Wedge close eyes,” Emote said placing a small paw in my face. We fell asleep, me holding him as he slept on my chest. At exactly 1800, Tycho came walking into my room with Emic. “Come on Wedge, wakey, wakey,” he said tickling my bare feet, “Time to get up and go to dinner, buddy.” Emic, deciding to help, crawled up on top of Emote, and woke him up; they began to play with each other, on top of me, finishing what Tycho had started. “All right all ready,” I said as I pushed the two Ewoks off me and on to the floor next to the couch, “I’m awake, I’m a wake,” I protested: once the Ewoks were on the floor playing with each other, I was finally able to sit up, “Let me pull my boots on Tych and I’ll be ready go to dinner.” A few minutes later I stood up, “Ok, let’s go see what Wes has been playing at all day,” I commented as I took Emote by a paw; Tych did the same with Emic and we headed downstairs to the kitchen. As we approached the still closed door Tycho pulled a strip of orange material out of one of the pockets of his flightsuit, “One more thing before you can go in Wedge, you’ve got to be blindfolded.” With that, he proceeded to place it over my eyes making sure that I could not see anything – not even light; I felt, and then heard the door open in front of us but there was absolute dead silence within. “Come on Wedge,” Tycho said taking my hand and leading me through the living area and into the kitchen - I felt the presence of two more people around me and I could hear the Ewoks chittering to themselves in excitement. “Hey Wedge, come sit down,” a disembodied voice in front of me called. “Wes, what’s this all about,” I was beginning to lose my temper. “You’ll see Wedge, just a few more minutes.” “Yeah Wedge, relax,” Hobbie chimed in. “All right, but if you three don’t get this thing off my face soon, there will be hell to pay for all of you.” Two of them, it felt like Wes and Tych, took me by the arms and led me to a chair: I could smell dinner cooking and it smelled as if everything was Corellian - I sat down and Tycho pulled the blindfold off. As he did, lights came up and all the Rogues and Wraiths yelled “Surprise,” to me at once. Wes was the first to speak individually, “Surprise Wedge - we noticed how down you’ve been lately what with you injuries and all.” As he finished, everyone began to hand me packages wrapped with bows and crinkled paper. “Ah, Wes, Tycho, Hobbie, I don’t know what to say.” “Don’t say anything Wedge, just open up your presents so we can eat,” Wes declared, “Here’s mine - open it first,” he said, shoving a box wrapped in Rogue Red paper and bows. “Ok, but what’s going to jump out at me,” I asked cautiously. “Nothing Wedge, trust me,” Wes laughed merrily, his deep blue eyes shining in anticipation. With Wes’ famous last words ringing in my ears, I opened the box he handed me - inside lay a collection of model X-Wings and TIEs of varying kinds and little pilots for them, “Uhm, Wes, just what am I to do with these?” “You play with them Wedge, what did you think you did with them? You want me to show you how,” Janson said enthusiastically. “Hmmm, not right now Wes, not right now,” I told him as I set them aside and took the next offered package. Next came Hobbie gift, a box of all the chocolates he bought the other day at Wal-Mart. “Hobbie, you know I’m not big on chocolates and sweets, but thank you anyway,” I told the tall pilot. “I know Wedge, so that means you’ll share, right,” he asked excitedly. I looked at him, the expression on his face so pleading, “Of course I’ll share Hobbs - here, you can have the first piece,” I said handing him the box. Tycho thrust a box, wrapped better than all the others at me, “Not you too, Tycho,” I asked. “Yes, me too Wedge,” the Alderaanian answered. I opened up the box and inside was a stuffed bantha. “Yours is looking kind of ratty Wedge, I thought I would get Bamfa a companion,” he told me quietly. “Thanks, Tych,” was all I could choke out and it went on from there, everybody giving me some sort of kid’s toys: finally, after opening all the boxes and thanking everyone, I looked around - Wes had done an amazing job, it did look like my boyhood home on Gus Treta; I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes until Wes grabbed my good arm, “Come on, Boss, let’s go get something to eat,” he said as he walked me to the buffet of all Corellian food. Wedge :>0<: -----signature----- Wedge Antilles Col. USAF (Ret) Epistemology and one's metaphysical assumptions influences his paradigmatic biases. Rogue Squadron - When you care enough to send the very Best See links to my stories in my bio Beta Reader for hire - Pilots stories
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