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Author	Topic: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/29/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!fic
VhenRa Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 6/4 4:46am Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 6/2/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f - Date Edited: 6/4 4:50am (1 edits total) Edited By: VhenRa
	Hmm, Why do I get the crazy idea that Dap is going to pull the insane stunts and schemes that Wedge is known for... Considering the fact we have Jaina (Who seems to be pretty bad at Strategic Trickery, Tactical Stuff she is awesome at but anything involving long term plans is strategic) Hmm. Edit: I just picked up on the Cheriss thing. Hmm, Been hiding has she? Hmm, Maybe was planning on getting in touch with Dap but considering his disappearing act...
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Lane_Winree Registered: Mar '06	Date Posted: 7/1 3:18pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 6/2/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Thor - Oh, I'm sure Ben is off cavorting with Kyle Katarn and his merry band of Jedi Knights. VhenRa - Dap doing crazy, insane things and stunts that would land most officers in an insane assylum? Now whatever makes you think he'd do something like that? You did catch one of the interesting details concerning Jaina and Dap's strategic planning, though. Jaina is a great with tactical work over the long term, but Dap has the unique ability to plan and execute on the fly. As for the Cheriss thing? Oh, well, you'll find out soon. * Chapter Three – Active Duty Darvix swore aloud as a TIE Defender began pouring fire into his aft. Quickly he threw his X-Wing into a hard dive, causing his pursuer to lose ground on him as its pilot tried to compensate for the changed flight path. Darvix gritted his teeth as he quickly juked and jinked his flightstick to keep the enemy fire from tearing through his shields. He had been trying to out-maneuver the enemy starfighter for nearly three full minutes without success. Every move he made the opposing pilot matched. His shields were already at one-quarter strength, meaning that he wouldn’t be able to sustain much more fire. Once his shields were gone, all that was left between him and a cold vacuum bath was a few layers of durasteel. “Zone, give me a rear visual feed on monitor two,” Darvix said to his astromech droid. With a chirp of acknowledgement, the droid began streaming the data into one of Darvix’s console-mounted monitors. The Defender was gaining ground on him again and was nearing laser fire range. He needed to think quickly if he was going to have any chance of making it out of this skirmish alive. Darvix’s hand tensed around the flightstick as he suddenly threw his X-Wing’s throttle to full-off. Immediately he fired his repulsorlift jets and pressed down hard on his flightstick, causing his starfighter to spin on its nose. With his ship repositioned at precisely the right moment, Darvix could see the TIE Defender passing in front of him as the pilot tried to readjust the starfighter’s flight path once more. Darvix quickly let loose with a barrage of laser fire, tearing through the Defender’s shields. He reset his throttle to full and engaged in pursuit, all the while snapping off burst after burst of fire. Darvix struggled to keep the enemy fighter in front of him. He knew that his reflexes were gone, ten years away from regular combat and active duty had encased his flying ability in a seemingly impenetrable layer of rust. He couldn’t think fast enough and he couldn’t act fast enough. “Sithspit,” Darvix cursed. “Zone my controls feel too sensitive. Scale back responsiveness by two degrees.” He frowned to himself as he issued that order. The more sensitive the controls, the more precise his adjustments could be. However, if he overshot or undershot the location on the flightstick he was aiming for, his X-Wing would veer wildly off course. By scaling back the sensitivity of the controls, the flight stick would become more forgiving to the pilot but would sacrifice a great amount of precision. Ten years ago he had the motor skills and muscle memory to set the sensitivity of the avionics to nearly full. This was no longer the case. Darvix flipped his weapons control over to proton torpedoes and squared his targeting brackets over the TIE Defender. The brackets began to flash yellow, indicating that the targeting computer was hard at work calculating a lock signature for his torpedoes. His hands squeezed harder on the throttle and flightstick as the yellow flashing became quicker. Finally the indicator turned red and the klaxon in his cockpit alerted him to the target lock he had just obtained. Just as Darvix was about to squeeze the trigger and release twin proton torpedoes, the Tie Defender suddenly spun around to face him. Before he could react, Darvix saw two concussion missiles fire from the TIE Defender. He knew it was fired without a target lock, but it was already too late. Before he could react the missiles slammed into his X-Wing. Darvix’s world was then engulfed by blackness. * Jaina Solo emerged from the flight simulator, pulling her helmet off her head and setting it on a nearby bench. She had flown the TIE Defender in the simulated skirmish, escaping from the dogfight with only minor shield damage. Jaina strode over to an adjacent simulator and keyed the canopy release. “Not bad,” Jaina said. “You were sloppy, to be sure, but you held in there.” “Sloppy is a rather generous way of describing that performance,” Darvix said as he removed his own helmet. “I’m like one of those over-the-hill shockball players. Slow, old, out-of-shape, and generally worthless.” Jaina helped Darvix out of the flight simulator. She noticed that he seemed to be a bit stiff and sore. He was at the age where a pilot’s body began to betray them. Jaina had seen many pilots about Darvix’s age begin to show signs of slowing down. No doubt he was feeling his age at that moment, and probably wasn’t all to pleased with himself. All of this was somewhat worrying to Jaina. Could Darvix get his act together again? He hadn’t flown in a long time. It was painfully clear that he currently wasn’t cut out for active service on most squadrons across the fleet. “That felt a lot faster than I remembered,” Darvix said as he sat down on a nearby chair. “The X-Wing, I mean.” Jaina grabbed a bottle of water from a table, tossing it towards him, “You’re probably too used to that old AC4 model you’ve been flying.” Darvix caught the bottle and took a large drink from it, “What’s changed?” “Weapons controls, top speed, avionics,” Jaina said. “You name it, Incom changed it.” The Incom Corporation had been designing starfighters for decades. Before the fall of the New Republic, they had created and released the Z-95 Headhunter, which would serve as the predecessor to the X-Wing and would be one of the first fighters deployed by the Rebel Alliance to Restore the Republic. Many of their designers took an enormous risk to defect to the Rebels early in the Galactic Civil War. Following the first fall of Coruscant, those designers returned to the Incom Corporation to continue designing starfighters for the New Republic. “Speed isn’t everything in a starfighter,” Darvix leaned back in the chair. “It became a necessity to improve the top-speed,” Jaina explained. “As other ships got faster, the X-Wing stood pat. Once the parameters changed, the AC4 just didn’t have enough speed to serve as a multi-purpose fighter. It best it was a hit-and-fade bomber, and that was questionable. Most of the old X-Wings were converted into recon fliers and phased out.” “What replaced them?” “Part way through the Vong war Incom released the T-65J X-Wing was introduced,” Jaina continued. “Stuck around for a little while. About three years ago the XJ3 model was put into service, we got a squadron full of them shortly after the fall of Coruscant. Thankfully the XJ3 finally put the E-Wing to bed.” “The E-Wing?” Darvix shook his head. “That starfighter’s been a joke since its development during my Academy days. Bad heat radiation, astromech interfaces, weapons placement… ” “We almost got stiffed with them,” Jaina said. “Thank the Force we got those XJ3s instead. We would have mutinied against Colonel Darklighter if New Republic Command took away our X-Wings.” “I can’t imagine a Rogue Squadron without X-Wings,” Darvix mused. “You might have to start visualizing it,” Jaina heaved a sigh. “Our X-Wings were reallocated to active squadrons after the Vong War. All we’ve got at our disposal are two old T-65Js that I’m fairly certain aren’t flight ready.” “Wonderful,” Darvix frowned as he pulled the black gloves off his hands. “The best damn unit in the fleet has been reduced to pushing paperwork. It’s going to be a nightmare trying to reconstruct the roster and secure starfighters.” “We’re not going to get any starfighters until we get an active roster,” Jaina pointed out. “We’ll have to handle that first.” Darvix stood up and smiled, “Nonsense, Colonel. Here at Rogue Squadron, we excel at multi-tasking.” Jaina felt her stomach drop. She had seen this look on his face before. Every time that grin and glint in his eyes appeared she and every other student at the Jedi Academy knew he was up to something. That look meant that he was formulating a plan, and when Darvix had a plan, people around him tended to suffer as a result. “Major Zorvan, whatever you’re thinking about doing I suggest you forget it,” Jaina affixed her executive officer with a cold glare. “Colonel, you wound me,” Darvix feigned shock. “Are you suggesting I might be up to no good?” “Your reputation among piloting and Jedi circles would indicate that you are, in fact, up to no good,” Jaina said flatly. Darvix stood and placed an arm around Jaina, “Do you remember that one particular ethics lesson in which you ran out of the room crying like a little girl who had lost her favorite doll?” “You called me a half-wit, Hutt-Spawn with no future ambitions but prostitution,” Jaina brushed Darvix’s arm off her shoulder. “And look at you now!” Darvix grinned. “You’re a half-wit, Hutt-spawn who became the commanding officer of Rogue Squadron!” “I should write you up for insubordination,” Jaina rolled her eyes. “Either that or I should take after Aunt Mara and castrate you where you stand. What’s your point, Major?” “Sometimes,” Darvix said as he walked towards the exit, “you have to bend the rules a little to get what you need.” As Darvix left the simulation room, Jaina could only shake her head. Wedge Antilles had stiffed her with the most incompetent, arrogant, and misanthropic executive officer imaginable. Just what was it Wedge had seen in Zorvan all those years ago? Perhaps the stress of three decades of military service had finally caused Wedge to snap and he was imagining things. Whatever he was seeing in Darvix, Jaina sure wasn’t. *** Jaina wasn’t quite sure what was on the plate in front of her. It vaguely resembled meat, but as she prodded it she noted that it had the same texture of vulcanized weather stripping. She imagined it was safe to assume that it probably tasted like vulcanized weather stripping as well. Jaina considered taking a bite of the faux meat, but was fairly certain that her digestive tract would balk the moment she began to chew. This meal proved once again that there was one truly effective dieting method in the Galaxy: her own cooking. The doorchime was a welcome distraction from her failed attempt at the culinary arts. Setting the failed dinner aside, Jaina went to answer the door. “Uncle Tycho!” Jaina said as she threw her arms around the former Colonel. “You’re back from Adumar! Is Aunt Winter here too?” Growing up, Jaina’s spent a good amount of time with Tycho Celchu’s wife, Winter. She had been close companions with Jaina’s mother since childhood, an almost sister-like figure to the Alderaani princess. During the early days of the Rebel Alliance, Winter had served as her mother’s closest aide, and when she and Jacen were born, Winter would become the one person the Solos could trust with their kin. Many of Jaina’s memories through her formative years involved her mother’s aide and companion. She had been there to read Jaina bedtime stories, to tend to scrapped knees and elbows. “She’s resting up in our quarters,” Tycho replied as he entered Jaina’s living area. “A twenty-eight hour transport ride with Hobbie and Wes can really take it out of you.” Her parents and her Uncle Luke had told her stories about Wes and Hobbie. Both were brilliant pilots who had far outlived the expected lifespan of a Rogue pilot before retiring. They were (according to Luke and General Antilles) also the biggest misfits in squadron history. Wes Janson had been known as the squadron’s prankster. His very presence caused people to be on edge. Jaina had heard stories of the various stunts Janson had pulled; the condiment bombs, the skeletons in lockers, falsifying assignment transfer orders. If there was a way to make a fellow pilot look foolish, Janson would be the one to make it happen. Hobbie Klivian, on the other hand, had been the squadron’s resident skeptic and pessimist. Rogue lore said that there wasn’t a plan or idea Hobbie wouldn’t object to. According to him, doom was constantly waiting around the corner. For some unknown reason, both he and Wes had become close friends while serving as Rogues and Academy instructors. Together they would prove to be brilliant pilot and headaches for every commanding officer they served under: Luke Skywalker, Wedge Antilles, and Tycho Celchu. As good as they were, Jaina wasn’t sure if she could handle pilots like that in her ranks. She was thankful she wouldn’t have to find out. “I wanted to congratulate you on your new post,” Tycho said. “I’ve got a feeling you’ll get the Rogues up and flying again in a hurry.” Jaina smiled and shrugged slightly, “Well, we’ll see. Wedge pulled some strings to get me a new executive officer…but I’m not too sure he’ll help.” “I’ve been out of touch with Wedge for a while,” Tycho said. “Who did that meddling old codger bring in?” “Major Darvix Zorvan,” Jaina replied. “First time he’s been on an active-duty roster in over a decade.” “Dap Zorvan?” Tycho looked surprised. “I was beginning to think that the human datapad wouldn’t show his face in the Galaxy again.” Jaina raised a brow, “And what’s that supposed to mean?” “While we were trying to build squadrons during the war,” Tycho explained, “Wedge and I searched high and low for anyone who had experience with a flightstick. One of the first people we talked to was your uncle Luke. We specifically asked for two people: Corran Horn and Darvix Zorvan. “We got Horn back and put him to work right away. When we tried to find out where Zorvan was hiding, Luke was…less than forthcoming. He showed us the records that indicated that Dap had been killed in the Lehon system trying to navigate through an asteroid field. Other than that, Luke didn’t have much to say. There was no estimated date of death, no reason listed for him being in the Lehon system to begin with. It all seemed kind of suspicious. When did he turn up?” “Just a few days ago in the Corustant system,” Jaina said. “He’d been out of contact with Republic space and the Jedi Academy for about six years. Supposedly he had taken a cargo freighter beyond the Galaxy’s borders…I didn’t get all the details from him.” “He missed all of the war, then.” “He had no idea what had happened while he was gone,” Jaina explained. “I was surprised to see how he handled all that news upon his return.” “Well, that’s one thing Zorvan is going to bring you,” Tycho said. “He’s one of the coldest pilots I’ve ever flown with. You never really know what he’s thinking, which I suppose is a good thing. He’ll get angry to be sure, but he rarely lets his emotions best him while he’s flying. Dap’s the kind of pilot who breaks everything down into numbers. Everything is a calculated…Every risk, every maneuver, every vector. In terms of cold, hard analysis, he’s probably the perfect person to help you pick pilot candidates. He won’t help you build briefing room chemistry, but he’ll sure help you find the most skilled pilots available.” “Well, I guess that’s comforting,” Jaina said. “I try,” Tycho smiled. “Aside from that, he is a heartless, misanthropic, misogynistic bastard.” Tycho patted her on the shoulder, “Just keep him in line and he’ll be a great officer serving under you. Make sure he knows where the boundaries are…One more thing. I ran into a former New Republic pilot while I was on Adumar, former Rogue and commanded her own group for a while. You interested?” “Solid service record?” Jaina asked. “Impeccable,” Tycho said. “She expressed a desire to return to Rogue Squadron, but you’ll have to give your go-ahead first.” “Have her flown in,” Jaina said. “I’ll run her through a couple of simulations as a formality, but I’d love to have a former Rogue back on the roster.” “Wonderful,” Tycho said as he began to walk out of Jaina’s quarters, “Oh, and do make sure your executive officer is there to greet her when she comes aboard, would you?” End Post -----signature----- Author of the Rise of a Rogue trilogy: http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/20721759/p1 Current WIP: Redemption of the Exiles: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24000186&brd=10477&start=24026104 Team fic w/ Inyri: X-Wing: Illusion
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princess_of_naboo Registered: Nov '00	Date Posted: 7/1 6:29pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Welcome back to the world of the living. Can't wait to see what transpires next... -----signature----- Reports from the Corellian Conflict - updated 11/22 http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/24309725 Princess of Naboo's Drabbles - Wk 7: Han; Wk 8: Tenel Ka http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/244319
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VhenRa Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 7/1 6:58pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	One more thing. I ran into a former New Republic pilot while I was on Adumar, former Rogue and commanded her own group for a while. You interested?” “Solid service record?” Jaina asked. “Impeccable,” Tycho said. “She expressed a desire to return to Rogue Squadron, but you’ll have to give your go-ahead first.” “Have her flown in,” Jaina said. “I’ll run her through a couple of simulations as a formality, but I’d love to have a former Rogue back on the roster.” “Wonderful,” Tycho said as he began to walk out of Jaina’s quarters, “Oh, and do make sure your executive officer is there to greet her when she comes aboard, would you?” I think we know who that is. Time for Dap to nearly get a Heart attack. Oh and just started watching House MD... And... Yup, Dap acts like House.
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JEDI_MARAUDER Registered: Nov '07	Date Posted: 7/1 8:33pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Hmm...if this is Cheriss that Tycho is talking about it should make a very interesting reunion. I just want to know what happened to her when she was supposed to be dead. Does Tycho remember what Dap and Cheriss' relationship was like? If so that is kind of mean for him to make sure Dap will be there for the first sim run. The next post should be very illuminating. -----signature----- "Life surprises you. Accept the gift." –Qui-Gon Jinn
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-thor- Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 7/1 10:25pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Suggestion: Start betting pool Circumstance: Dap sees Cheriss again Betting object: Will Dap faint? -----signature----- Signature space for rent ... now where did I leave the HoloNet address ???
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VhenRa Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 7/1 10:39pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	My bet is he either Faints or has a Heart Attack.
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Lane_Winree Registered: Mar '06	Date Posted: 8/5 9:59am Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 7/1/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Sorry this has taken me a while, work has not been kind lately. Anyhoo.. Next post! * Chapter Four – Surprise Darvix tugged at the collar of his dress uniform jacket as he strode towards the meeting room assigned to Rogue Squadron. He glanced at his wrist chronometer and frowned, if he was going to pull this stunt off, he’d need to hurry. Darvix figured he had twenty minutes tops to pull off the heist and vanish before the target showed up. It was a small window of opportunity, but he’d done more with less. Before he could even begin, he had to put a disguise together. As he stepped into the meeting room, the first part of his plan went into effect. “Lieutenant Lensi,” Darvix barked. “Rank pip, now!” The Duro male stared at Darvix for a moment. He must have thought that it was slightly odd that his new executive officer had asked for a one-on-one meeting in full class-A uniform. No doubt he was now thinking that his executive officer was a few bolts short of an X-Wing. Darvix returned the stare with an icy-cold glare. The new Rogue executive officer was not to be trifled with. “Are you deaf or just stupid, Lensi?” Darvix asked. “Take one of those pips off your uniform and give it to me.” “May I ask why, sir?” the Lieutenant asked. “No,” Darvix replied. “Now give me the pip.” Darvix smiled to himself as Lensi shrugged and removed the pip and placed it in his hand. Pips were small red and blue buttons that signified rank on dress uniforms. Darvix had three pips placed on the square patch on his shoulder, signifying his rank as a Major in the military’s army. He placed the forth pip on the patch, instantly promoting himself to Colonel. Before the befuddled Lieutenant Lensi could object, Darvix turned on his heels and walked out of the briefing room. With the first part of his plan out of the way, Darvix made his way towards the civilian crew quarters. To increase the odds of his plan succeeding, he would need to create a façade that would convince people he was a member of Fleet Command. What better way to appear to be a datapad-pushing military stiff than to haul a secretary everywhere? Grinning to himself, Darvix rang the doorchime belonging to room 221B. Moments later, he was greeted by a familiar sight: an annoyed looking Kasari Lisae. “What do you want?” Kasari asked. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. If you’re looking for cheap entertainment, there are some call girls available on Mos Eisley…or call boys if that’s how you’re leaning today.” Darvix placed a datapad in her hands, “Follow me…and unbutton the top of your shirt a bit more, would you?” Kasari rolled her eyes and followed as Darvix made his way towards the off-limits ship administration area, “Why am I following you?” “Probably my rear end,” Darvix replied. “Women follow it like Gizka to a cliff.” “I’m not helping you break the law today,” Kasari said flatly. “We need to talk.” “I’m not going back to the Jedi, so that line of questioning ends now,” Darvix replied “And if you must know what I’m up to, I’m requisitioning some X-Wings for Rogue Squadron.” “Why does this involve me?” “Appearances, Kasari,” Darvix smiled. “It’s all about how you present yourself. Now hold that datapad and look like you’re taking notes or something.” “I am not your secretary,” Kasari glared at Darvix. “Of course your not,” Darvix replied. “You’re my fake secretary, very different. Just stay quiet and flash your cleavage every forty-five seconds.” “This is not going to end well.” Darvix smiled and pulled a Dilnlexan cigar from his pocket and placed it between his teeth to light it, “Relax, I’ve got everything planned out.” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kasari shook her head as they walked into an administrative office. “Where’s Admiral Darklighter?” Darvix demanded, surprising a number of desk-dwellers sitting within the office. The disguise and façade had been successfully put together, now came part three: the heist itself. “He’s at lunch,” a human male captain said. “I can summon you when he returns, if you don’t mind Colonel…” “Colonel Antilles,” Darvix said, exhaling a puff of cigar smoke. “And don’t you start going off with the ‘are you related to General Antilles’ garbage again. It’s a common last name! Now you’d better get me Darklighter right away, son, or you’ll be peeling tubers on a garbage hauler.” “Colonel, I’m sorry but he’ll be back in ten minutes I’m sure you can-” “It’s imperative that I speak with him!” Darvix said. “I’ve got a squadron that needs sixteen XJ3 X-Wings, and they need them yesterday. Darklighter has authorized it, and now I just need him to send the order out to high command.” “Sir, he’ll be here-” “I don’t have ten minutes, son!” Darvix was mere inches away from the poor captain’s face. “You get him here in two minutes or your ass is on its way to a kitchen on Kessel, is that understood Captain?” “Even if I wanted to, I can’t contact him!” The captain tried to explain. “Comlink communication has been down for the last half hour.” Comlink communication, that was part of Plan Zero of the heist. Before leaving his quarters, Darvix had sliced into the Mon Mothma’s communications relay system, jamming person-to-person comlink chatter. No matter how hard they tried, they wouldn’t be able to get a hold of Admiral Darklighter to verify Darvix’s story. “Well than you had better issue the order, then,” Darvix snapped. “You taking note of this, honey?” Kasari tried not to glare at Darvix, instead offering a faint smile. “Ah you’re great,” Darvix replied. “Best secretary I’ve ever had, wonderful notes and not too hard on the eyes either. Now, captain, if you can please send a subspace message to-” “I can’t send an order like that to high command!” the captain replied, exasperated. “I’ll be rotting in a brig cell if I do that.” “I’m going to make you take a vacuum bath if you don’t, captain,” Darvix said calmly. “Just send the order for sixteen XJ3 X-Wings to be brought here for Rogue Squadron.” “Rogue Squadron!?” The Captain looked as if he were going to be ill. “That’s a defunct unit, they only have four pilots assigned to the roster! I can’t get you a full complement of twelve X-Wings, let alone sixteen!” “Son, just mark the order per Admiral Darklighter,” Darvix exhaled another puff of smoke in the Captain’s face. “You’ll also have to keep this quiet, this is a high security operation. Don’t mention it to anyone else here, don’t even mention it to Admiral Darklighter. He already knows about the requisition. That understood, Captain?” “Yes sir!” the captain snapped a salute, which Darvix returned weakly. “Good job, son,” Darvix replied. “You’re doing a great service for the military…and remember, loose lips vape starships.” Darvix left the administration office, grinning ear to ear with the cigar protruding from the side of his mouth. The “heist” was executed perfectly. Within a day or two Rogue Squadron would be receiving sixteen new X-Wing starfighters. All he had to do now was fill the roster with pilots to fly said X-Wings. “You didn’t really need me there, did you,” Kasari asked. “Hm…not really, no,” Darvix said. “Why did you bring me with you?” Darvix shrugged, “Eye candy, mostly.” Kasari shook her head, “You owe me. Go buy me lunch.” “I don’t-” “This is non negotiable,” Kasari placed her hands on her hips. “Buy me lunch or I track Admiral Darklighter down and tell him you fleeced sixteen X-Wings out of the military.” “And you claim I have a short temper.” “I learned from the best,” Kasari replied as she strode towards the mess hall. “Now go buy me lunch.” “Yes ma’am,” Darvix replied. “Drinks in your quarters afterwords?” “Nice try, Zorvan.” “I thought so,” Darvix smiled once again. * Jaina felt her stomach plummet to her feet. No, this couldn’t be right. She was seeing things. There weren’t really sixteen brand-new Incom XJ3 X-Wings sitting in front of her. It was impossible; High Command would never grant a defunct squadron that many new starfighters. No matter how many times she shook her head and pinched herself, she’d wind up at the same conclusion. Rogue Squadron had just been assigned more than a squadron’s worth of X-Wings. A full outfit only needed twelve. According to the paperwork, all sixteen belonged to her squadron. This wasn’t right at all, and she knew exactly who was responsible. “Zorvan!” She barked towards one of the X-Wings “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain yourself before I vent you into space.” Her executive officer looked away from a belly panel beneath one of the X-Wings, lifting up his work goggles and rubbing the grease off of his hands and onto a rag, “What makes you think I did anything, ma’am?” “Because you’re the only person on this ship who would have the audacity to go over my head and steal from High Command,” Jaina snapped. “What the hell did you do!?” “Colonel, all I did was tell High Command that Admiral Darklighter approved a request to grant Rogue Squadron sixteen X-Wings,” Darvix smiled that mischievous smile that Jaina had already seen too often. “With this out of the way, we can focus our attention on finding pilots. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.” “Did Admiral Darklighter really approve the request?” Jaina asked. “…If by approve, you mean didn’t explicitly reject,” Darvix said, “then yes.” If Jaina wasn’t so dismayed, she may have been tempted to strangle Darvix, “You didn’t talk to “If by talk, you mean offer a casual but completely apathetic greeting while passing eachother in the hallway, yes.” “You tricked High Command into thinking Admiral Darklighter ordered sixteen X-Wings for Rogue Squadron,” Jaina rubbed her temples as she tried to sort out this mess in her mind. “I should throw you into a brig and court martial you myself, you arrogant bastard.” “Colonel, I’ve seen what happens to squadrons that are classified as defunct,” Darvix lowered his goggles and reached into the service compartment again. “One by one the remaining pilots are reassigned to other groups. Eventually all that’s left is a squadron name and unit number hiding in someone’s database. When no one’s looking, that squadron name simply gets assigned to some other group. You know about Gold Squadron, yes?” “The bomber flight,” Jaina said, arms folded across her chest. “One of the most prolific Y-Wing and B-Wing units in Alliance and Republic history.” “The original Gold Squadron went defunct after the Battle of Yavin,” Darvix explained as he pulled a hydrospanner off of his belt. “The name has been handed from squadron to squadron ever since.” “What’s your point?” Jaina asked. “None of the original Rogue Squadron pilots are still flying.” “Gold Squadron has no link to the original unit,” Darvix replied. “We do. Every iteration of Rogue Squadron has some members that were hand-selected by the previous iteration. Right now there are only four of us in this squadron, the only four pilots within the squadron who have some connection to the past Rogue groups. Colonel, I’ll be frank. We’re in danger of being reassigned to active units. Once the four of us are gone, the Rogue Squadron we all grew up with ceases to exist. “Colonel, I know you have a lot of pride as a pilot,” Darvix glanced over at Jaina again, “I’ve seen your service record and have spent hours watching footage of your flying ability. You don’t get as good as you are if you don’t have a deep love for your profession… Don’t tell me the thought of Rogue Squadron’s name being given to some random group of pilots doesn’t bother you, Solo. You’re too engrained in this squadron’s legacy to let it happen.” Jaina remained silent as Darvix closed up the X-Wing, “We have to act before High Command pulls the trigger and places us in separate squadrons. Once that happens, Rogue Squadron as we know it is dead. We have a legacy of accepting only the best and brightest pilots the military has to offer... who knows what Rogue Squadron would look like in someone else’s hands. I’d hate to see that legacy die at our hands.” What was Jaina to do? Zorvan had clearly broken several procedural rules and perhaps had gone as far as committing a felony or three. By all rights, she should be writing him up for an immediate court martial. On the other hand, she knew he was right. For the past month she had been keenly aware that at any moment she could be receiving orders to report to a new squadron. Keeping Rogue Squadron alive with her at the helm was nothing more than a morale booster for the fleet. She had resigned herself to this a while ago, but she wouldn’t deny that the thought of Rogue Squadron’s name and legacy in some random commanding officer’s hands made her furious. She mentally kicked herself. Jaina knew she was about to give Darvix preferential treatment. He was like one of those all-too-perfect characters in a romance novella, getting away with anything they wanted without fear of consequence. Worse, Jaina knew she was enabling Darvix to get away with it. She had no doubt that Darvix was a person who was used to getting exactly what they wanted when they wanted it. Jaina had to draw the line. “Zorvan, if you ever go over my head again like this,” Jaina said flatly, “so help me, I will have your head. We’re part of the same commanding unit in the same squadron, we act as one. Never deceive me like that again.” Darvix stared at Jaina for a moment before nodding, “Yes, ma’am.” The two were interrupted by an announcement over the hanger’s PA system, “Landing crew to pad-4A. Incoming transport shuttle. Repeat, Landing crew to pad-4A.” “Must be our new pilot,” Jaina said. “Tycho recruited her from Adumar.” “Adumari pilot?” Darvix asked as he tried to rub the grease out of his hands. “Hope you know what you’re getting into. They’re a pretty fiery bunch…If you’ll excuse me, Colonel, I’ve got to keep working on the avionics package on this X-Wing.” “No, you’ll be greeting the pilot with me, Major,” Jaina affixed her executive officer with a cold glare. “Seeing as that’s part of your duty as my second-in-command.” “Ma’am, with all due respect-” “This isn’t an option, Major Zorvan.” Darvix’s shoulders slumped, “Yes, ma’am.” Jaina smiled and walked towards the shuttle, her executive officer in tow. By now the shuttle had already landed, its entry ramp lowered. A few of the deckhands were moving bags onto a moving cart, no doubt to be placed in a temporary living assignment. Finally, Jaina spotted the pilot descending the ramp. She appeared to be in her early-to-mid thirties, clad in normal civilian dress, shoulder length black hair tied in a ponytail. Jaina reached for her datapad to read the pilot’s name. “Colonel,” Darvix said quietly, “What’s that pilot’s serial registration number?” Jaina raised a brow. Every pilot from the early days of the Rebel Alliance to the present was assigned a unique serial identification number that correlated with a master registry. No numbers were ever recycled, so even after a pilot died or retired, that number would forever be associated with them. “Registration number Seven-Six-Nine-Oh-Eight-Nine-Theta-Two-Alpha,” Jaina replied. “Zorvan, are you alright? You look live you’ve just seen a ghost.” The color had vanished from Darvix’s face, “You’re right, Colonel. I’m looking at a dead woman.” End Post -----signature----- Author of the Rise of a Rogue trilogy: http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/20721759/p1 Current WIP: Redemption of the Exiles: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24000186&brd=10477&start=24026104 Team fic w/ Inyri: X-Wing: Illusion
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VhenRa Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 8/5 12:40pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/5/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Rogues are back to their usual antics, beg, borrow and stealing equipment. And Dap is about to probably collapse. Poor Dap. -Hopes the next chapter doesnt take as long-
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princess_of_naboo Registered: Nov '00	Date Posted: 8/5 1:38pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/5/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Got to love Dap. I wonder if Gavin will here of what happened. -----signature----- Reports from the Corellian Conflict - updated 11/22 http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/24309725 Princess of Naboo's Drabbles - Wk 7: Han; Wk 8: Tenel Ka http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/244319
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-thor- Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 8/5 10:26pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/5/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Dang! Lost my bet. I had thought Dap would faint right away. -----signature----- Signature space for rent ... now where did I leave the HoloNet address ???
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Lane_Winree Registered: Mar '06	Date Posted: 8/29 12:30am Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/5/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!f
	Well I think I'm settling back into a grove. A few days later than I was initially hoping, but here's the next chapter. Thanks for reading, everyone! * Chapter Five - Reunion Cheriss ke Hanadi gazed through the forward viewport as she leaned back in the co-pilot seat of the shuttle. The molten black and blue of hyperspace had surrounded the shuttle for several hours now, meaning that she would be arriving at her destination shortly. It had been a few months since she had stepped foot on a military vessel. After the war, Cheriss chose to retire from active duty, a decision she quickly came to regret. Almost immediately after returning to her homeworld, Cheriss began missing the daily routine and constant work that military life provided. She simply didn’t know what to do with herself. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to worry about that at the end of the day. The tunnel of hyperspace gave way to a bright stream of stars as the shuttle reverted into realspace. The desert planet Tatooine appeared in the shuttle’s viewport, and orbiting above it was an Imperial Star Destroyer, the Mon Mothma. Cheriss hadn’t been a witness to the Galactic Empire’s rule of the galaxy, so she had never associated the Star Destroyer with that tyranny. Despite that, she could easily recognize just how imposing the ship was. Its angular lines and colossal structure radiated an aura of authority. If she didn’t know that the Star Destroyer wasn’t part of the Galactic Alliance’s fleet, she would have found it to be extraordinarily menacing. “Major, I hope you don’t mind if I ask what brings you out to this sector,” the shuttle pilot said as he guided the craft towards the Star Destroyer. “Tatooine isn’t really known to be a great vacation spot.” “Honestly I thought I was going to Mon Calamari,” Cheriss replied. “I’m as disappointed as you are.” “I take it you’re here on military assignment, then?” “You could say that,” Cheriss said. “All I’m really here for is to audition for Rogue Squadron.” “If that’s the case, you might as well just turn in your transfer papers,” the pilot responded as he vectored the shuttle closer to the docking bay. “I’m not sure if I follow you.” “Military lore says Rogue Squadron’s cursed,” the pilot said as he cast a sideways glance at Cheriss. “No one willingly accepts an assignment to that unit. Last I heard there were only four members on the active roster, three remaining Rogues from the war and one pilot who was forced out of retirement against his will.” “We can’t possibly be talking about the same unit,” Cheriss replied. “It is if we’re talking about the disaster unit that’s under the command of Jaina Solo,” the pilot said in turn. “I don’t exactly buy into the “cursed” angle, but I do believe Solo’s done her part to run the unit into the ground. That squadron was given the kiss of death the minute Antilles and Darklighter handed command over to her.” Cheriss’ eyes narrowed for a moment, “What’s your name and rank?” “Flight Officer Erim Zess,” The pilot replied, his eyes betraying a look of annoyance. “You’ve got a lot of nerve to be questioning the decision-making of Generals Antilles and Darklighter,” Cheriss said, casting a glare at the young pilot. “I didn’t say it was their idea,” Zess replied. “Probably political pressure forced them to put some sort of a “hero” figure in charge of their most visible unit. Can’t say it’s worked, though. You don’t see many pilots flocking to a unit with a commanding officer that hasn’t shown anyone she’s fit for command.” Zess guided the shuttle along its final approach to the hanger, “No one in their right mind accepts an assignment to Rogue Squadron. It’s either a death-trap or a career killer.” “You’re right, I suppose,” Cheriss said as she felt the shuttle’s landing skids touch down on the hanger floor. “It takes a special person to be a Rogue.” She undid her seat harness and stood up, walking to the back of the hanger, “You have to be partly a soldier, but mostly a madman. I guess you just don’t have what it takes.” Zess glanced towards Cheriss once more, “and you do?” “Sanity is highly overrated,” Cheriss keyed for the shuttle’s ramp to lower, “and nothing would bring me more honor than to fly amongst the Rogues * Darvix forced himself to run down his mental checklist. Was he drunk? Hungover, perhaps, but not drunk at that moment. Was he suffering from a concussion? Darvix didn’t recall suffering any recent head trauma. Perhaps it was a spice induced hallucination? No, he had limited himself to Carababba tabac miniature cigarras over the last six years. There was no reason to be seeing things that weren’t there. Darvix rubbed his forehead and glanced at the shuttle ramp again. Surely, that couldn’t be her, it was impossible. A decade ago he watched in horror as an Imperial starfighter slammed into her X-Wing, destroying both ships. There was no way she could have survived that. If she had, he would have heard about it long ago. Darvix couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge what he was seeing. He refused to acknowledge what he was seeing. Cheriss ke Hanadi was dead, yet there she stood at the base of the shuttle. “Is there a problem, Major Zorvan?” Jaina asked. “What’s her name and birthworld?” Darvix asked quietly. Jaina glanced at Darvix for a moment before pulling the information up on her datapad, “Major Cheriss ke Hanadi, birthworld Adumar. Service record indicates she graduated from the Academy with top honors. She has flown with two A-Wing units and served as commanding officer of one of them. Prior to that she was an X-Wing pilot with Rogue Squadron, then under the command of General Antilles.” As that information began to sink into Darvix’s mind, he took a few steps towards the shuttle. The steps became a brisk walk, the brisk walk a jog, the jog a full on sprint. The only thing in his vision was the woman he thought was dead, his mind subconsciously blocking out everything else within the spacious hangar. As he charged towards the shuttle, Darvix noticed that Cheriss had spotted him. She seemed to be somewhat startled by the fact that a man was barreling towards her at full speed. Darvix grabbed the startled woman’s shoulders firmly in his hands, scanning over her face as a look of confusion and anxiety graced his own, “It can’t be…you can’t be her, you’re dead.” Cheriss seemed perplexed for a moment before her eyes grew wide as she realized who she was looking at. Her hands came up to cover her mouth to stifle a gasp of shock. “They told me you were dead, Darvix,” she said quietly. Darivx could only shake his head as he placed his hand under her chin. Without thinking, he drew her into his body and pressed his lips against her, a gesture Cheriss returned without hesitation. “Mr. Zorvan,” Jaina said as she stepped up behind him, “when I ordered you to greet the new pilot, this is not what I meant.” *** “I don’t understand,” Darvix said as he watched Jaina exit the briefing room. “I saw that Phantom TIE slam into the underside of your X-Wing. There’s no way you could have survived that... I mean, why didn’t I hear anything?” Cheriss was silent for a moment before answering, “Just before it slammed into my ship, I managed to trigger the eject sequence.” Darvix covered his face with his hands as the memories came flooding back. Over ten years ago the New Republic was facing a new threat from what remained of the old Galactic Empire: a cloaking system small enough to be placed into a starfighter. Naturally, Rogue Squadron was selected to investigate and neutralize the threat. It was at that point Darvix was accepted into their ranks as a young, greenhorn pilot fresh out of the Academy. Over the course of two years they managed to steal one of the prototype fighters and kidnap one of the lead designers of the cloaking systems. By all rights, that should have been it as far as Rogue Squadron’s involvement went. The information went back to New Republic Intelligence, and the Rogues returned to a life of monotonous patrol missions. It was on one such assignment that everything went wrong. While patrolling a sector only a handful of lightyears away from their assigned cruiser, Rogue Squadron was ambushed by a squadron of the Imperial Remnant’s cloaked TIE Fighters, or the Phantom Fighters as they had become to be known. Before Darvix knew what was happening, his X-Wing had been crippled by enemy fire. As his R2 unit worked on restoring the damaged vessel’s hyperdrive, his sensors had alerted him to an incoming enemy craft that he could not see. He should have been dead. Then someone intervened. One of his fellow pilots broke off their escape pattern and made a hard-line flight towards him. In a split-second, Darvix glimpsed as the pilot hurtled themselves between him and the invisible oncoming fighter. A collision occurred, and both vessels exploded into a ball of flame. Just moments later, the hyperdrive in Darvix’s X-Wing came to life and he was whisked out of the danger zone. All of the Rogues save one escaped with their lives that day, but the pilot who Darvix thought had perished was the most important person in the universe to him: Cheriss ke Hanadi. She was his wingmate and friend, but most of all, she was his fiancé. Only hours earlier he had proposed to her. Sure, both of them were young, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for pilots to do something like that at that age. They could never be certain of how long they would be alive. Little did Darvix know how quickly Cheriss would be taken from her. For the last ten years, he had been convinced that she was dead. Every moment of his life had been consumed by a whirlwind of depression, anger, and sadness because of that. Yet, here she was, sitting right in front of him. The same dark hair and eyes, the same slender figure. Sure, her features had aged somewhat (though she was still a marvel to behold) and the horrors of war were present in her eyes, but she still emitted the same aura of strength and valor she always had. He couldn’t deny any longer that she was gone. Cheriss ke Hanadi, his friend and lover, was alive and well. “Why didn’t I hear about you?” Darvix asked. “Not long after the Rogues escaped, an Imperial shuttle arrived to investigate the scene,” Cheriss explained. “They found me and brought me on board. I was in bad shape and passed out the second I was laid down on the floor of the shuttle. When I woke up, I was in an Imperial Remant prisoner of war camp.” “But the last of the Imperial Remnant broke up shortly after we put an end to the Phantom program,” Darvix said. “Hell, Pallaeon signed the armistice treaty a year before that. How could you have ended up in a P-O-W camp?” “Some splinter organizations didn’t feel that Pallaeon made the right choice, I happened to be picked up by one of them,” Cheriss replied. “…How long were you a prisoner?” Darvix asked. “I was there until about six months prior to the beginning of the Yuuhzan Vong War,” Cheriss glanced at the ground for a moment, “about eight years…It was hell, Darvix. Absolute hell. “When I ejected from my X-Wing, durasteel shrapnel completely severed both of my legs and my arm. My other arm was so badly wounded that it was useless. The only medical attention I received upon arriving to the camp was to have my open wounds sealed and my damaged arm amputated. They didn’t even bother to fit me with prosthetic legs so I could move on my own. No…they just threw me in a cell and fed me once or twice a day like some sort of diseased pet.” Cheriss took a deep, shaky breath, “I was there for eight years, unable to move on my own. Eight years of staring at the same cell door, being fed by the same guards. The entire time I was just a freak of a human being. My deformed body sickened me during my every waking moment. The only thing that kept me going every day was the thought of you…That someday I might get out and you would be the first one there to help me.” Darvix felt his heart shatter. As he sat there, wide-eyed in terror, hand covering his mouth, Cheriss continued her story. “I had lost all track of how long I had been in there by the time I was rescued,” Cheriss continued. “Apparently the splinter organization that controlled the camp had abandoned it when a New Republic task force entered the area. Out of nowhere the cell door to my opened, but it wasn’t the usual stormtrooper guard…It was General Antilles. He was commanding the task force that had pushed into the area, and when he discovered there was a prisoner of war camp on one of the nearby worlds, he insisted on accompanying the unit that was tasked to free the prisoners.” Cheriss smiled faintly, “It was the Rogues, of course. Gavin Darklighter was in charge of the unit at the time. The pilots and a small foot platoon task force were moving through the cells, escorting prisoners to safety, providing medical attention to those that needed it. Both Darklighter and General Antilles were making one last sweep of the area when they stumbled onto my cell. Despite my appearance, the General recognized me immediately. “I’m not sure when I passed out, but when I had come to I was on board the Frigate Redemption, receiving medical attention,” Cheriss said. “I was fitted with cybernetic limbs, and for the first time in eight years, I was able to move on my own…” Cheriss shook her head again, “General Antilles was the first one to visit me in my hospital room. I immediately asked him where you were, and…he closed up. This look of sadness formed on his face as he looked away from me.” Darvix affixed his gaze to the floor as Cheriss continued, “He told me that you had left the military to join the Jedi Academy and that you had been studying under Luke Skywalker…The General said that a few years earlier there had been an accident, that you had been killed while on an important assignment for the Jedi. He mentioned something about you trying to navigate through an asteroid field but I had stopped paying attention at that point. I was free, I had my arms and legs back, yet it felt so hollow. What I wanted more than anything was just to see you again, but I found out that wasn’t going to happen.” “What did you do after that?” Darvix asked. “The only thing I could do,” Cheriss heaved a sigh. “I went through the rehabilitation and I immediately returned to service with the New Republic as an A-Wing pilot.” “Oh Cheriss,” Darvix could bear to look at her, “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that.” “We’re not going to debate whether or not I should have risked my life to save you,” Cheriss stood and strode towards Darvix, placing her hands on his shoulders. “That was over ten years ago… I just want to know one thing…” “You want to know what happened to me,” Darvix completed her thought as he finally looked up at her. Cheriss only nodded. “A year before the Vong arrived I accepted an extremely dangerous, but extremely important mission from the Jedi Academy,” Darvix said. “I went looking for an ancient Sith space station that that was believed to be the final resting place of two Jedi that had vanished thousands of years ago.” Darvix frowned slightly, “It was a six year journey. Three years to get there, three years to get back. Before I left, Master Skywalker falsified my records at the Academy and at Coruscant, listing me as having been killed in the Lehon system. We couldn’t risk anyone coming after me. Only one other person aside from myself and Skywalker knew, and that was Master Katarn.” “You mean General Antilles didn’t know you were still alive?” Cheriss asked. “No,” Darvix replied. “Not General Antilles, not Starfighter Command, not the smuggler networks…Hell, not even the great Airen Cracken knew I was still alive.” “If only I had known…” Cheriss said quietly as she sat down beside Darvix. Darvix turned in his seat and wrapped his arms around the woman he loved so dearly, “I’m so sorry, Cheriss… I never meant to hurt you like that.” Cheriss only shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder, unable to muster any words. Darvix could feel the fabric of his shirt becoming wet with her tears. “I love you,” he said quietly. “I never stopped loving you.” Cheriss simply nodded her response as she strengthened her hold on him. -----signature----- Author of the Rise of a Rogue trilogy: http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/20721759/p1 Current WIP: Redemption of the Exiles: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24000186&brd=10477&start=24026104 Team fic w/ Inyri: X-Wing: Illusion
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VhenRa Registered: May '08	Date Posted: 8/29 3:01am Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/29/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!
	She trying to catch up to Anakin in Prosthetics? Still. Heartwarming..
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Lane_Winree Registered: Mar '06	Date Posted: 8/29 9:22am Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/29/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!
	I prefer to call it the Hobbie Klivian club. -----signature----- Author of the Rise of a Rogue trilogy: http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/20721759/p1 Current WIP: Redemption of the Exiles: http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=24000186&brd=10477&start=24026104 Team fic w/ Inyri: X-Wing: Illusion
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princess_of_naboo Registered: Nov '00	Date Posted: 8/29 5:13pm Subject: RE: X-Wing: Resurrection of a Rogue - Updated 8/29/08 - Post NJO Jaina, Rogues, Wraiths, OCs, pilot!
	I loved Jaina's line about not being what she meant by greeting the new recruit. -----signature----- Reports from the Corellian Conflict - updated 11/22 http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/24309725 Princess of Naboo's Drabbles - Wk 7: Han; Wk 8: Tenel Ka http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/244319
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