Saga A Date for Hobbie Klivian; FINISHED!!!!

The Rogues set up Hobbie for a date... with Disastrous Results!
*******************
"We're doomed."
Those were his first words.
I don't see why he gets upset about it... after all, I was just looking out for his best interests. I think...
Now, I'm a romantic kind of guy. And I think everyone else should be romantic guys, too.
As long as they don't interfere with my romanticism. I'm also very debonaire... with gorgeous, dark eyes... glorious dark hair (which is just mussed up enough to look roguish, of course)... a strong, masculine build...
Hobbie is the exact opposite of me. First of all, I'm a cheerful person. Hobbie's first words every morning are, "We're going to die."
And he never exclaims it... he just says it with that finality that bothers the heck outa me. Until I can start picking on him.
"Awww, c'mon, Bubgbite! It'll be fun! Can't you see it? The Fabulous Four, launching ourselves upon Shalyaran Society! The women will be falling all over us!"
"You make it sound like we're launching a ship, Janson."
A voice came from the door behind me.
"More like a Heavy Proton Torpedo. What'd you do now, Wes?"
I turned to Tycho, and smiled (As genuinely as possible), and answered, "Ohhhh... nothing bad. Hob's just being his usual pessimistic self--"
"I am not pessimistic! I just don't like lying to myself."
"--I just told him that the four of us got set up on blind dates."
"Who set them up?" Tycho asked, pushing a comb through his sleep-mussed, blonde hair.
"I did, of course. What... you expect me to allow Wedge to handle a delicate situation like this?"
The last part I added when Tycho's blue eyes widened (And possibly became a paler shade of blue) with horror.
Hobbie gulped, "Who'd you set me up with?" he asked, timidly.
"If I told you... it wouldn't be a blind date." I answered, smirking.
"Lemme guess... a rancor?"
"Nope."
"A hutt?"
"No, she wanted to go out with Wedge." I heard Tych muttering "Ouch".
Hobbie continued, "A Krayt Dragon? A Space Slug?"
"Nope."
"A wookiee?"
"Close..."
Hobbie suddenly looked shrivelled up, "An Ewok, huh? You set me up with an Ewok."
I don't know how long Wedge had been listening to our conversation, but I guess he couldn't surpress his giggles any more.
"Yubyub! Janson set you up with Chief Chirpa's twin Sister! Yubyub!"
Tych was giggling hysterically, and chanted a phrase in Ewokese. A phrase that yours Truly taught him. I dunno what it means, but I must say: His accent is very becoming.
Hobbie's eyes narrowed into a Sith-like scowl, "One of these days, I'm gonna get the three of you soooooo gooood..."
I swear I could hear the blood dripping from his voice, already.
"Seriously, Hob. You got a normal date. Her name's Flicker. Danishadya Flicker. I think even you'd like her, Wedge."
Wedge scowled, "Believe it or not, I have excellent taste in women."
===================
We met our dates at the cantina. I was with a pilot out of Gold Squadron, named Aeron.
Tycho was with a Twi`leck (I'm sooooo nice to him) named Far`yyna Fibuna.
I set Wedge up with a Quarren. Her name was Itasmin. Wedge isn't Xenotropic, and he really believes humans and aliens are equal in this galaxy... but try kissing someone with tentacles and fangs covering her mouth.
Mean, I know. But he shouldn't have ordered my x-wing to be painted pink.
Mmmmmm-hmmmm... I am such a bad boy. But that's my charm.
Hobbie's date was the kicker.
I set him up with someone that hot because of the two-edgedness to it. He'll thank me the rest of his life for setting him up with Danishadya Flicker, but he'll always... always be paranoid about the other credicoin dropping. Always.
My date, Aeron, was gorgeous, with blonde hair, and beautiful green eyes, and the charm of a y-wing pilot (optimistically scuicidal. I love women like that), but Dani Flicker was a dream girl.
Being a Shalyaran, she had pale skin, which contrasted nicely against her black dress, and deep, purple eyes, and shimmering, blue-black hair.
Did I mention that Shalyaran's have fangs and claws? Poison t

 

"Well, Janson. As much as it pains me to admit it, you do indeed have very good taste."
Hobbie remarked, sitting on his bed, and tugging his boots off.
"Yes, it was nice, wasn't it?" I answered, unbuttoning my dinner jacket.
I flopped down on my own bed with a groan.
"Aeron was quite energetic, wasn't she?"
"Yup. Y-Wing pilots are always good to have around."
"Especially when you start a bar room brawl."
I sat up with a glare, "I did not start it!"
Hobbie waved aside my protest, "Flicker was pretty good, too. Then again, it helps to have poison tipped claws, eh?"
I frowned again, "I don't know 'bout that one. I mean... what if, after you get married, you get her really reeeaaallly mad..."
Hobbie smirked, "Good point."
I stood, "It's hot in here," I muttered.
I walked over to the window, and opened it, breathing in the thick, sweet jungle air.
"Ya know," Hobbie said, "Aeron's a nice girl... maybe you should--"
I heard the shot before the world exploded into blue pain.
Those stun shots aren't very fun.

 

ROFL!

This is great, GAK!

And as a member of the Wes Janson Fan Club over at the EUC, I intend to make sure my fellow Jansonians see this fic.

Keep it comin'

 

and the charm of a y-wing pilot (optimistically scuicidal. I love women like that)

I will take offense at that comment! lol, this is great!

 

Beautiful! There can never be too many Fab Four fics... especially not when Wes is narrating!

YubYub and TG- Protecting fangirls from hormonally gifted fanboys since 2002

 

Well, very nice comments! I'm on a friend's computer, so I'll have to write my next chapter later. Bye!

 

Funny thing, those heavy stun shots. They feel exactly like a hangover. A reeeaaaalllly bad hangover.
I'm not picky, really, but when I wake up to find myself in a dank, milldewey, rat-infested detention cell, I get a little cranky.
Okay... so maybe there weren't any rats, or mildew, and maybe it wasn't dank, either.
Maybe it was just a leetle too much like an Imperial Detention Cell. And trust me: Being a Rogue, I've seen enough of those to last me a lifetime.
Not that I mind prison, but the Imps just don't have enough female guards.
I'd like to say that I surged to my feet, tore down the cell door with my bare hands, and made good my escape by hijacking the nearest Star Destroyer. But...
I did surge to my feet.
Pilots are introduced to Gravity rather early in their career, but it's rather embarrassing when me and gravity have a family reunion when I'm not in a fighter, when I'm not being pursued by an enemy spacecraft, and when I'm not even armed.
After a few minutes, I managed to push myself up off the floor.
The cell was dark, with only a few streaks of light coming in through spaces between the doorjams, and those only illuminated the far wall, leaving the floor swathed in shadows.
Which is a perfect excuse for why I tripped over something soft, fleshy, and pessimistic.
I was lying on top of it, apparently, because it said in it's most mournful tone, "Mmf... Janfon... dat'f my noze. Or I zhould thay 'Vuz my noze'."
"That you, bugbite?" I whispered.
"Mmf. Maybe."
I rolled off of it, causing it to grunt in pain, and moan, "There goes my stomach. 'Death caused by Elbow', that'll look really nice on my tombstone, huh?"
"Sorry, Hob."
"S'ok. I'm not gonna kill you for being a klutz."
"Good boy. Now... is there any possibility that you know more about this than I do?"
Hobbie stood up, his face looking like broken shards of a picture, as the slivers of light fell on him.
He shook his head, "Nope. I tried to run over to the desk to get my blaster, and I tripped over the rug, and hit my head on the desk-- don't look at me that way, Wes-- and I guess I knocked myself out. I woke up shortly before a very heavy you fell on my nose."
"Sorry."
"S'Ok."
"So..." I began, walking towards the door, and examining it, "Anyone else get captured that I should know about, or is it just me, you, and the dustbunnies?"
A fantom voice from somewhere under the metal cot answered, "No one here but us dustbunnies, and if ye don't mind, we dustbunnies need our beauty sleep."
The fantom voice was female. Things were lookin' up.
"Okay, Miss Dustbunny. Any way of escaping this cell, or are we rancor meat?" I asked, wondering if our hosts had forgotten about the vibro-knife in my left boot, or if I was also left without a half-way decent toothpick.
"Don't flatter yerself. You Rebels, or Imps?"
I found the knife still safely nestled away in my boot, and smiled, "Neither. It's the New Republic, not Rebel Alliance."
"Oh."
Hobbie piped up, "But still the same people from the Alliance, so there's not much difference."
The fantom came out from under the cot, and shrugged, "Eh... don't make any difference. I'm just a simple smuggler, trying to make my way in the univ--ooooh! Vibro!"
She snatched the knife from my hand, and dived back under the cot.
Hobbie and I barely had time to exchange puzzled glances before the woman crawled back out, with a glow-rod in her hand.
"I got most the bolts off this door before they found my hydro-spanner, and confinscated it. I figure these people are either lazy, or just too low budget, cuz they never replaced the bolts.
There's only two more bolts holding a panel in place over the security lock... I can hotwire this thing if I can get that panel off. I haven't seen a vibro-knife in too long... Ooh, the magic I can create now!"
Hobbie whimpered, "Why do I get the feeling we just gave a lightsaber to a two-year old?" he asked.
"I didn't give it to her!" I protested.
"Nope. I borrowed it. Now shut up, I need to hear this bolt..."
There was a soft grinding noise,

 

Funny thing... those stormtroopers were so lifelike.
I lunged at one of them, my hand grasping for the feel of metal weaponry beneath my fingers.
Take my advice: Never lunge at a non-existent Stormtrooper.
I'm still trying to remember when holograms got so lifelike. A year ago, maybe?
I musta been savin' the galaxy around that time, cuz I sure don't remember it.
I lay on the floor, groaning a little.
Danishadya was laughing.
How rude!
I pushed myself up from the floor, and turned to face her.
There was a snap-hiss sound, and Danishdya remarked, "I wouldn't try lunging again, sweetie."
A lightsaber? Where'd that come from?
"Woo... lookiethat! A mega glow-rod!"
Make sarcastic comment.
Face meets wall.
Suddenly, I know how those Pallies feel when I smash 'em against Wedge's X-wing.
I shouldn't think from Food's POV... it makes me feel rather cynical.
I slid down to the floor, and then got up again, a little wobbily.
Okay, so sometimes it's the stupid things in life that work. Like using chewing gum to keep that little bolt on your x-wing canopy in one piece when you're in hyperspace.
Or using the Base's intercom to let everyone listen to my favorite song.
You know, simple little improvisions that, by some miracle, actually work.
My eyes widened in fear, and I pointed past Danishadya, "What in the name of Palpatine is that?!" I whispered, trembling like I'd just seen the ghost of Jabba's pet Rancor.
It worked.
She turned to look, and, being Rogues, and all of the same (unsound) mind, we did the first heroic thing that presented itself: Ran like Tauntauns on Tatooine.
Down the hall, round a corner, and to the hangar bay. A very dark, dank, dusty, creepy, large hangar bay, with a single shuttle at the far end.
The shuttle was rusty, and as decrepit as the Millennium Falcon, but it shone like a beacon on a Sullastan night.
As the five of us ran for it, I felt something brush against my face.
I stopped, and whispered, "Guys... something's in here..."
They stopped, and turned to look at me.
Suddenly, something behind me hissed, loudly.
I hate it when things hiss...

 

You're insane. I love you. When do you want the wedding to be?

-JSD

 

Hobbie called first dibbs, sorry

 

I also hate spiders.
More specifically: Spiders the size of Massiffs.
I don't think I've ever run that fast. Not since Space-taping Wedge to the wall, and Hobbie helping him out of it.
That was probably the last time.
Anyway, I saw the little eight-legged freak, and the next second, I'm at the shuttle, trying to hotwire the krethin' little piece of junk.
Someone shoved me aside, and I saw Wedge firing a blaster at the spiders. I would've asked where he got the blaster, but I tend not to do so. 'Ours is not to question why, ours is but to do our die,' is all he'd say to me, anyway.
Then I'd probably make some comment about him and Itasmin... and he'd leave me with the spiders. Now, I'm not a coward, but... ick!
Fuzzy had the ramp open, and now she was shouting for everyone to get on board.
She grabbed the blaster from Wedge, and shoved him up the ramp, and blasted a few more spiders.
Those bugs must've been hungry. Or maybe it's custom to eat their wounded. Either way, I won't be eating for about a week.
Well, the others were in the shuttle, and I grabbed Fuzzy by her jacket collar, and yanked her up after me.
The ramp shut and locked, and Wedge shouted for everyone to hang on to something.
I was about to ask why, when the ship lurched, groaned a bit, fired the engines, and lurched again.
Have you ever been pinned upside down against a wall by G-forces? Not pleasant.
Anyway, the ship stopped lurching, and I managed to get into a more normal position. I crawled up to the cockpit, "Hey... Wedge? You're supposed to let the engines heat up befor--"
"Stang it, this shuttle's so heavily modified, I hardly know what to do with it!" Hobbie exclaimed. Did he sound happy?
"It's a Lambda... or was... but it has heavy shielding, and the engines of an A-wing! Plus, forward and backward auto-turrets, an Ion turret, and a Torpedo bay!"
Oh, great. Bugbite Klivian has a new boom-toy.
Wedge was at the yoke, "This thing is great!" he remarked, sounding as happy as a school boy that just saw his first deathstar.
A voice came over the com, "Captain Antilles, this is the VSDII Imprisonment. Stand down, or we'll be forced to destroy you."
"Or sure, nice try, Bucktooth!" Hobbie answered. Bucktooth?
Danishadya sighed, "Captain, don't make me do this. The turrets on my ship are already locked on to your shuttle. I'd rather have a live hostage, then a dead one."
Wedge rolled his eyes, "Now it's my turn.
Imprisonment, this is Captain Antilles. You are in Violation of Shalyaran and New Republic Space. You are also in Violation of New Republic law by kidnapping, and intending to hold hostage four Officers of the New Republic. I suggest you leave."
Danishadya laughed. "Very well, Captain. This is your choice, after all."
Their was a green flash, and the ship rocked.
"Wedge, the Star Destroyer is firing on us."
Tycho called from one of the turrets, his voice surprisingly calm.
Wedge didn't reply for a minute, then said, "Hob, what type of torpedoes do we have?"
"Heavy Rockets, Wedge. Ten, total."
I piped up, quietly, "Wedge, it only takes two heavy rockets to destroy an VSD shield generator..."
Wedge scowled, his thinking look.
"If we take out the shield generators... the two on top, and the one on bottom... and pound the Bridge with the Ion Turret... that ship will be powerless..."
"What about Aux bridge?" Tycho asked.
"If we can hit the Primary bridge almost immediately after the shields are down, it won't matter. They won't have time to feed power to the Auxillary." Hobbie answered.
Wedge smiled, "If we can take on a Deathstar in an X-wing and a YT-1300... this should be a piece of Rhyshcate..."

 

I'm in love with this fic... your idea is brilliant, as is the way you write Wes... please write more!

~Dot

 

Oh this is hysterical! Keep it coming!

 

Lol! Thanks, Guys!!! Long chapter, this time.
====================

Maybe I'm getting Cynical in my old age.
Or maybe I just don't appreciate Wedge's almost insane grin when he ordered Hobbie to fire the Heavy Rockets.
Or maybe I was just down-right terrified of the way Hobbie said, "Right-o, Captain! Torpedoes away!"
He sounded too happy.
The Imprisonment was still firing on us, and every once in a while, a shot hit home.
Not long after the start of our little Firefight, I'd clapped my hands over my eyes, and would've been whimpering for momma, had I not been too busy thinking of ways to kill Wedge. Or at least get back at him really... reeeaaallly good.
Maybe coat the seat of the 'fresher unit with some of that super-sticky, instaweld? That'd be good...
Or putting gear-oil in his favorite Caffe machine...
And how about Hobbie and Tycho? Best get them into the mix, I mean, after all: They're the ones who agreed with Wedge to stay and fight.
Cut the hot water lines in the shower...
Paint their x-wings pink and blue, and tie a big ribbon around the nose...
Or I could just spacetape all three of them to the back of a garbage hauler. Yup. That'll work.
I came back to reality in time to hear Hobbie, "Wedge, the Imprisonment's shields are gone!"
Wedge gave that grim lil' smile, again, and said, "Fire the Ion Cann--"
Boom.
"Wedge! Our engines are gone! We're being pulled in by Shalyara's Gravity well!"
Fuzzy, who'd been strangely silent this whole time, moaned from her seat behind me, "We're doomed."
Tycho continued, "Port stabilizer's gone, communication's are down... heck, even the sensors are dead. Everything was tied in with the engines. We're dead ducks."
What's a duck?
"One minute and thirty seconds until Estimated Time of Arrival."
Crash and burn. Niiice...
Unfortunately, none of us got to see the crash.
Without shielding, or anything, the pressure inside the shuttle, caused by excellerating through the atmosphere, made us all black out.
Someone's slapping me. I do not like being slapped. Stop--
"--It, I'm up, I'm up... geeze, can't a guy get some decent--"
Hands grabbed my shirt collar, and shoved me up against something cold, and metallic.
"Janson, I'm gonna kill you sooo bad..."
"Hey, Wedge, relax, it's over," Tycho said, pulling my murderous commanding officer away.
Hobbie crawled out from under a blackened shuttle wing, "Oh no it ain't... Wedge, even though you outrank me, you're gonna have to wait your turn..."
Hobbie started to haul back his fist.
I ducked, and Hobbie started cursing, cradling his now probably broken hand.
"Sith-spittin', krethin' little--"
"Hobbie..." Tycho warned, stepping between him and his intended target (poor lil' me).
"This is all his fault!" Wedge said, pointing an accusing finger at me.
"Hey, you guys should be thanking me! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be here--"
"Exactly!" Hobbie shouted, "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't even be here..."
I rolled my eyes, "I meant, if I hadn't psyched Danishadya, you'd still be on the star destroyer. Look, I'm sorry--"
"I don't care! We still wouldn't be here! We'd be sitting in our quarters, happily single, and probably sleeping, if it weren't for your cute little idea to get us all a date!"
Peacemaker Tycho was finally getting riled up, "Yeah, Janson. What kinda joke is it to set us up with Imperials, anyway?"
My turn to shout, "I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE IMPERIALS!!! I feel bad enough just getting you into this mess without you screaming at me! What do you want me to do? Hack into a New Republic database and forge myself up a Court-martial? Blind-fold myself, and step out infront of a firing squad? Scream "Bombs away!" and dive into a Black-hole?! Huh? Fine! I'll do it! Just SHUT UP!!!"
We were all strangely silent.
I sank to the ground, letting my back rest aganst the wrecked shuttle hull, and started staring at the dirt, absently tracing paterns in it with my fingers.
I really did feel bad. They're my buddies, and I wouldn't do anything on purpose, to hur

 

It is not their day!

Great characterization, GAK.

 

Definitely not their day...

Mmm... seems like the planet wants a Janson-sized treat!

~Dot

 

LP: Ooooh... the best is yet to come, heee...
*explosion*
DOT: Janson sized treat? *glances at Janson* Wes, dear, you've become a snackfood.
*Janson smacks GAK upside the head* Knock it off, and get back to writing, you slacker.
Oh, BTW, Dot: That lil' line of yours is in my next chapter, lol! You're a mind reader!
========================
Well, it was about three more hours walking to get to the spaceport, and, with things trying to eat me every five to ten minutes, it took us a bit longer.
The troublesome Trio were discussing the Imprisonment, Fuzzy had wedged herself firmly between Tycho and Hobbie, with Wedge walking infront of her, and me behind her, so, if anything attacked us, one or more of us would go first, giving her time to hightail it. Smart girl. What a jerk.
Anyway, back to the Imprisonment.
"The Imprisonment is one of the last surviving Star Destroyers that saw the Battle of Endor," Wedge was saying. If he's talking, and walking at the same time, he motions with his hands alot, and kinda glances sideways at the person he's talking to, sorta makes him look smart, like he knows what he's talking about.
Me? Heck, I walk backwards. Not only do I not look like I know what I'm talking about, but if I'm talking to a girl, and I trip over something, I fall, bonk my head, she feels sorry for me, and I can con her into a date. Now that's smart.
"She was pretty old by that time, and overused, so it wasn't long after before she made her way to the Ship Graveyard, in the Ison Corridor. I guess Danishadya is one of those Upstart Imperials. She found her, hired a skeleton crew, and has been pirating along the Outerrim."
"All in the name of the Empire, no doubt," Tycho remarked.
Wedge nodded.
"So, why us?" Hobbie asked.
"Apparently, she was going to try and turn us over to the Imperial Government. Most likely for the reward."
Tycho shook his head, "Actually, no. Well, kinda, yes. She was going to turn us over to the Empire, get the money, somehow get us back before they executed us, brainwash us, hire a bunch of pilots, have the Brainwashed Us train them, and start her own little fleet, hoping to overthrow the current Government, and be Big Boss herself. So, not really a pirate, as much as a Warlord wannabe."
Hobbie cocked an eyebrow, "And how may I ask, did you know all this, oh Great one?"
Tycho smiled, sweetly, "Oh, there was a ventilation shaft in my cell that no one knew about."
"Lemme guess... full of rats, spiders, dust bunnies, and cobwebs?" Hobbie asked.
"Of course."
"Rogue Specialty, remember?" I remarked.
"How could I forget, and I wish I could."
At Fuzzy's puzzled look, I explained, "Us Rogues do a lot of Infiltration, and often, in order to get in and out of a High Security place, we have to use the ventillation shafts. Ever since the death of Palpatine, Imperial Budget has been a bit low, so basically, the older bases and ships cut back on their maintenence."
"Ahhh... okay, I get it. So... why'd the Imp have me captured?"
Wedge answered, "Apparently, you had a rather large bounty on your head, but before she could deliver, the Originator died."
Fuzzy grinned, "I know that. I'm the one that killed him. He was a Koodan. Ly-Kooda, Bar-Kooda's distant cousin."
"How'd you do it?" I asked.
She shrugged, "You wouldn't want to know... but I lost a hand doing it. My left one's a prosthetic. The Medical Droid on Tatooine didn't hook it up right, so sometimes the synthflesh twitches, and it looks like something's alive under my skin, see?"
She held her hand up, and I could see that the flesh on the back of her hand was crawling in a most in-human way.
I grimaced, "I really didn't need to see that..."
She giggled.
We came into a grove of what appeared to be fruit trees.
The branches of the trees swept to the ground, making a curtain-like wall of leaves.
The fruit was bright red, and was shaped like Nubian Pears, except bigger.
I reached up to pick one.
Wedge started, "Janson, don't--"
Too late.
The fruit that I had touched unfurled into it's normal fly-t

 

Lol... I've created a new snack food... Janson Bites!

You used my quote?! Thats awesome!

~Dot

 

DOT: I was thinking... email me (see my BIO), and maybe we could discuss Co-writing a story some time in the future?
Lank_Pavail: LOL, I'm glad you like it! To anyone else lurking out there: Only three more chapters of this story to go, so if you wanna post, you'd better hurry
=======================
Finally... FINALLY...
We made it to the Spaceport.
Our clothing, torn, and coated with slime, dirt, and Force-knows-what else...
Bruised, haggard... my hair all mussed up...
But hey, do you see me complaining? Nope... just as long as I get my decent cup of caffe, some food (Yes, I was still hungry), and away from that stupid cat...
Yes, the Savo followed me all the way to the space port, purring, rubbing up against me.
"Can we get rid of the cat? She's attracting attention..." Hobbie whined, petting the feline on the head.
"Oh, it's a she now? I'm impressed. Hey, Hob: Maybe you could go out on a date with it."
Hobbie shot me a look that would've made a lesser man shrivel up and crawl away. I merely grinned.
We went to a Security Station, to get rid of 'The Cat', as she was now called.
There, we found out that not only was she not a Savo, but instead, a Siva, a smaller, more rare cousin of the Savo.
"You can identify them by the white strips on their chin and throat," We were told.
Like I was paying attention?
Anyway, not only was she a Siva, but she was somebody's pet. Apparently, she'd escaped her habitat, had gotten lost, and her owners were looking for her.
Anyway, I was glad to get rid of the over-affectionate whatchamacallit.
Then, we went back to our hotel.
As we made our way through the hall to our rooms, I was pummelled from behind by a small, blonde-haired, green-eyed, female Torpedo.
"Janson! I'm so glad you're safe! I went to your room to thank you for last night's date, but your room was a wreck, and there were some blaster marks on the walls, and I worried that the worst had happened! Are you all right? Are you hurt? Did ya miss me?"
Aeron helped me off the floor, but I guess I wasn't quite ready to get up, because I sagged again. She surprised me with the strength in that small, wonderfully femminine frame of hers, and dragged me to our rooms.
"Sheeze, you smell like you just got out of Kessel. I'll get the shower ready for ya. Wedge, Tycho, Hob-- Ewww... Hobbie, what's that all over your face? Anyway, Wedge, the Allegiance has been trying to contact you. Something about a VSD? Anyway, you can use the comm in my room, since the one in yours was trashed by whoever kidnapped you."
*
Half an hour later, I was clean, in a fresh change of clothes, and enjoying the company of a beautiful woman who cooks good food.
I'd told her the whole story in a matter of fifteen minutes, and now she was telling me about what'd happened while we were gone.
"I had a heck of a time trying to tell the captain of the Allegiance that I didn't know where you were--" she looked up as the others walked in.
Everyone else was clean, too, and Fuzzy was wearing a slightly oversized bathrobe. Aeron smiled at her, "We'll go clothes shopping as soon as we can. Until then, I've got a dress in my closet you can use. It should fit ya."
Fuzzy wrinkled her nose in amusement, "Dress? I haven't worn a dress in my life. Not very handy on a freighter. But I'll try anything. Force knows it won't be the worst I've gone through in the past three months."
Wedge spoke up, "Good news: The Imprisonment has been captured. Bad news: Danishadya escaped from the Brig. She's down here, on the planet, somewhere in the jungle."
Hobbie moaned, "And guess who's going to go find her?"
I found the nearest wall, and started banging my head against it.
"Why me? I don't wanna go..."
"I'll come with you," Aeron said, taking my hand.
"Never mind."

 

*bursts up laughing unable to say anything coherent.*



"A janson size treat"


*bursts up laughing again*

 

GAK: Rebi!!! *hugs* I'm glad you like it! Now, say something Coherent, dearie. Palpy needs you to tell him more, Pet.
Janson: I'm waaaiitttiiinnnggg...
GAK: Go read "Please say growing up is Optional".
Janson: Bleh. She hasn't updated.
Hobbie: Wanna go terrorize DOY, then?
Tycho: Oyah! *head bob*
Wedge: STOP IT!!!
GAK:
====================
It didn't take us long to find Danishadya.
Or, more specifically, it didn't take her long to find us.
I was following the heroic ones, minding my own business, trying not to get dirty, when I have a lightsaber blade at my throat.
She and Wedge were talking (exchanging subtle threats, insults, etc.) but I wasn't paying attention to them; I was paying attention to the voice in my head that sounded strangely like Aeron.
She was staring at me, her green eyes unblinking, giving me the creeps.
Janson... Janson, pay very close attention. Blink once if you can hear me.
I blinked.
Good... Now, this is kinda hard, because I haven't really had much training, but I'm going to try and sneak around Danishadya, and get the lightsaber from her. I need you to distract her. When I give the word, pass out, pretend.
I blinked again.
A few seconds later, Now.
I dropped to the ground with a rather theatrical moan, startling Danishadya.
A rock sailed out of no where, and knocked her down.
She whirled to reclaim the lightsaber, but Aeron was holding it, twirling it arouund her fingers like a baton.
"Well, now, isn't that interesting?" She remarked, her serious expression bathed in the red glow of the blade.
Danishadya glowered, "Force-user," she spat, making it sound like a curse. Aeron shrugged, "Takes one to know one, sweetheart."
Wedge and Tycho pulled Danishadya to her feet.
"Come on, let's get back to the spaceport."
I stood up, brushing the dirt off of my clothes, rather self-satisfied with my little acting spree. "I must say, I was rather amazing."
Aeron smiled, sweetly, "Yes dear. So Amazing, I'm sure Admiral Ackbar would just love to hear how you started this whole thing in the first place."
I cringed, "How'd you here about that?"
Hobbie raised a hand, "Guilty."
I glared at him, "Bugbite."
"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Wedge, since I'm Bugbite, can we call him Plantbite?"
Tych looked thoughtful, "I was thinking more along the lines of Snakebite."
I moaned, placing a hand over my heart,
"Ooh, Tych, that hurt!"
Hobbie slapped me on the back, in a good-natured way, "Self defense, Janson. Self defense."

===========

 

This is so hilarious, so absolutely, randomly, characteristically hilarious. I love the Rogue Squadron boys. Poor Janson.

 

LOL, Ish!
I especially like the "Random" part, heh heh.
Och, I'm off to bed, beddy bye, forever sleep, etc.
Post FINAL CHAPTER tomorrow!!!

 

FINAL CHAPTER, YAY!!!
====================
"Well, Captain Antilles, you and your boys did a tremendous job on the Shalyaran Affair,"
Admiral Ackbar was saying.
Wedge smiled, "Thank you, Sir.
"Lieutenant Janson," he said, turning to me, "I expect to hear a full report on exactly how you tracked down the Imperials on Shalyara."
I grinned, "Well, sir, it was like this--" "And no heroic exaggerations," Ackbar interrupted, his mouth twitching in what would be a Calamarian smirk.
Hobbie spoke up, "You'll have to ask Tycho, then, Sir."
Ackbar's mouth twitched again, and he said, "Dismissed."
We turned, and left the office, all four of us heading to the mess hall. "Cookies..." I chanted. It had become my Mantra on the three day hyperspace journey, after discovering that the Allegiance's cookie stock was depleted.
We were half-way there, when my personal Torpedo threw me to the ground, and planted a quick kiss on my forehead.
"How'd it go?" Aeron asked.
I grinned, "Fine, but are you always this aggressive?"
She smiled, and pulled me to my feet. "Always. Now, did I hear someone mention cookies?"
"Yup. Care to join us?"
"Sure!"
"Would you care to join me for some dinner tonight?"
Aeron raised an eyebrow, "Lieutenant, are you asking me out on a date?"
I bowed, "The lady has stellar intellect, and charm to boot. But only if she says yes..."
She grinned.
*
She was late.
She came into the mess hall, looking rather flustered, and ran over to me, "Wes, I'm sorry... I can't stay, but I just had to tell you. Ackbar promoted me to Captain! He says there's an A-Wing squadron who just lost half their number, including their COs, and he wants me to take command, and rebuild them! And..."
She trailed off, glancing down at the floor.
"And what?" I asked.
"Luke Skywalker was there. He--"
"He'd heard that you'd used the Force on Shalyara, and offered to give you Jedi training?"
She nodded.
"Which means... you're going to be busy, between your squadron, and your training, no time for goofing off?"
"Basically. I'm sorry."
I took her hand, "It's all right. This is what you deserve, Aeron. You have a great ability, and you need an opurtunity to develop it. If this is what you want..."
She nodded, "It is."
"Then I wish you every happiness."
She smiled, and started to pull away, but I wouldn't let her go. "I have to get back," she said.
I kissed the top of her forehead, "Let 'em be. Newly promoted Captain, it's expected of you to slack off the first fifteen minutes."
"Do you always break the rules?" she asked.
"Fluently," I murmured. "Between blowing up Deathstars, and wielding a lightsaber... you know where to find me, don't you, Aeron?"
"I most certainly do."
====================
Two Months Later
====================
"Hey, guys! Aeron's squadron has the same leave time as Rogue!" I shouted, not quite into the room, yet.
Hobbie looked up from his comfortable position on his bunk, "Uh, yeah? And?"
Tycho took a break from packing, "She going to spend it on Outland Station?"
"Yup! And guess what! There's three other women in Blue Ace squadron!"
Wedge came in, carrying two duffel bags, one of which he handed to me. "No, Janson."
"What?" I asked, innocently.
He glared, "No, Janson."
"Oh, if you're worried about me setting you up for dates again, don't worry. I didn't plan your whole vacation."
The three of them heaved sighs of relief, I suspect, just to pick on me.
I smirked, "I did, however, make arrangements for tonight."
There was a moment of deathly silence, in which all three of them were glaring at me, then...
"Someone find an Airlock and throw him out of it, please?"
"Wedge, can he be shot for treason? Right now? In self-defense?"
Wedge sighed, "Janson, finish packing, we're leaving early tomorrow morning."
"Plantbite," Hobbie quipped, "His name is Plantbite!"
==============================
Well, that's it, basically. What'd y'all think?

 

What do I think? I think


That was great! I read it all in one sitting and I loved it!

Good job.

lordmaul13