Beyond - Legends Survivor - Fanfic Winter Olympics Pentathlon, Myn Donos

Title: Survivor
Author: Thumper09
Characters: Myn Donos
Timeframe: approx. 5 ABY to 8 ABY
Notes: This is my 2022 Fanfiction Winter Olympics Pentathlon featuring Myn Donos. The entries take place in chronological order, ending with events that occur in Wraith Squadron.

Constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you to Mr. Aaron Allston for creating Myn. Star Wars is owned by Disney, etc. etc.

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Links to specific event posts:

Snowboarding Adventure
Hockey Hug
500 Word Speed Skate
Single Sentence Ski Jumping
Short Program Song-Fic

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Snowboarding Adventure: A 500+ word action or adventure story featuring your character, couple, family, or friendship.
(Word count: 4039)


During his training, Sergeant Myn Donos had been taught that a sniper was a survivor. The role of a sniper was to reach his required position, accomplish his objective, and then make it back to his unit. The outbound and return were often accomplished alone or with a very small team, across varying terrain over a large distance, occasionally lasting for long periods of time, possibly while being hunted by the enemy. As a result, a sniper had to be smart, fit, disciplined, adaptable, and proficient in many different infantry techniques and tactics. In short, he had to rely on himself to survive.

And that’s exactly what he’d been doing over the last two days, and he hadn’t even accomplished his objective yet.

It started to rain again. Myn sighed silently but didn’t move. Underneath his camouflage suit and vegetation concealment, his weather-proof poncho-- provided by the lowest bidder to the Corellian Armed Forces-- had already failed in its task of keeping him dry during the course of the cold rain showers the last two days. It wasn’t like he could get any more wet.

His muscles ached from staying so still in his prone position on the hillside for so long. He shifted infinitesimally, trying not to disturb the concealing vegetation attached to his camouflage suit. As he moved, he felt the full 50 kilos of his gear weighing him down, everything from his survival gear, to his food and water, to his comm equipment, to his regular infantry supplies, to his close-quarters blaster carbine and ammunition. Corellia’s gravity pulled more strongly on his pack with every passing hour. Only one piece of equipment was not loaded onto his back, and that was the sniper rifle set up in front of him.

Myn blinked his burning eyes hard, ignored his growling stomach, and refocused his attention to the area he’d been watching all this time. The hillsides around him were slick with mud from the cold autumn rains, and vegetation was thin and dying, making concealment a challenge. That was the main reason he didn’t have his spotter with him: their unit commander had decided it would be too difficult to conceal two beings close together on this sparse, open hillside as opposed to just one, so they’d been split up. Myn had taken position on one of the hillsides to the east of the valley, and his spotter and fellow sniper Sergeant Lezit was similarly concealed and waiting somewhere on a hillside to the west.

On the bottom of the muddy valley, about a kilometer ahead of Myn, was the somewhat-intact wreckage of a YT-2400 that had been battered and busted before ever hitting the ground. The crew of the YT-2400 Gurrcat and several other similar ships had identified themselves as members of the Void Hunter pirates when they’d ambushed a civilian merchant ship beyond the system’s asteroid belt. Nearby patrols from both the Imperials and the Corellian Armed Forces responded to the merchant ship’s distress call and pursued the pirate ships back to Corellia. Gurrcat had crashed here on the southern continent about 45 klicks from Tyrena, and the other pirate ships had fought viciously enough that they'd prevented the Imperial and CAF forces from landing and apprehending the Gurrcat’s crew.

That had been a little over two days ago.

At that point, Myn wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, as he’d heard several different confusing stories in the short prep time his unit had before deployment. From what he could kind of piece together, the CAF had immediately claimed jurisdiction over handling the apprehension of the crew on the downed Gurrcat and threw their forces into the field as fast as possible to accomplish that task. On their way here, Myn and his CAF squadmates had wondered aloud if the CAF was trying to use this event to reassert its own authority and independence in the wake of the recent friction between CorSec and the overstepping Imperial forces. Myn didn’t envy CorSec’s position and hoped the CAF wouldn’t be forced into taking orders from the Imperials as well, especially orders involving going against the New Republic.

Myn had fully expected to not be needed here at all, that closer units would simply fly over and apprehend the pirates. And they had tried, but apparently they had met with some unexpected air support from Tyrena’s North-East district nearby, which was largely controlled by crime syndicates. The opposing air units had kept each other at bay long enough for the Gurrcat’s crew, pinned down in the wreckage below the airspeeders, to broadcast a message in the clear saying that they’d rigged some of their onboard proton torpedoes to blow the entire valley-- and the several ragged homesteads around it-- if they were approached. The CAF forces backed off to regroup until they were joined by Myn and his squadmates.

Since then, the two units had waited and tried to get a better idea of the actual situation, and the tension over the drawn-out standoff increased by the hour. Myn’s squadmates took position at the south end of the valley while the other unit held the north end. Myn and Lezit had made their way into the valley as stealthily as possible lest a pirate spot them and make good on their threat, and once situated, the pair had been providing constant intel on the target.

Myn frowned as he continued to view the wreckage through his sniper rifle’s finderscope. The rain was letting up. Though it hadn’t even been visible through the clouds, the sun had recently set, and the dreary day had already bathed the valley in shadow. Only occasionally visible through tiny cloud breaks, the thin crescent of Gus Treta hung high overhead, and in the east where the clouds were thinnest, Gus Talon was rising, its phase mostly full; if the clouds continued to break, the reflected lunar light would help illuminate the depths of the valley before too long. Myn adjusted the finderscope’s settings again to compensate for the continuing change in light, and then he activated his headset’s comlink with his tongue and said in a low voice that wouldn’t carry, “Besh Four to Besh One. Target has been abnormally inactive for the past thirty minutes.”

“Copy, Besh Four,” replied his unit commander, Captain Sevilin, a small spitfire of a woman. “Our sensors are still being jammed by the target. Seven and Eight are trying to rig something else up to cut through that and determine if there are armed proton torpedoes onboard.”

Myn clicked his comlink once in acknowledgment and then turned off the transmission. If the CAF units didn’t have to worry about the threatened torpedo detonation, they would move in immediately. But they’d also unsuccessfully been trying to make that determination for quite some time already.

He continued his silent vigil on the wreckage. Usually he could see some movement inside the downed ship through the viewports or through damaged gaps in the hull-- between his reports and Lezit’s, they’d already gotten a pretty good idea of exactly how many individuals were inside-- but now everything was still. That hadn’t happened before. The pirates didn’t even all sleep at the same time. He didn’t like it.

Speaking of sleep, his hour on watch was just about up, and he was looking forward to his hour-long catnap while Lezit took his turn on surveillance. Myn clicked on his comm again and kept his voice down. “Besh Four to Besh Three. Wakey-wakey, Lez.”

The Duros responded with a mumbled, half-awake curse.

Myn grinned and replied, “Beauty sleep won’t help you, sorry.”

“Four.”

“Sorry, One.” Myn quieted but kept his grin.

A long minute later, Lezit said, “Besh Three to Four. Fine, I’m up. Had the best dream... Any changes?”

Myn let his grin fall away as his quiet voice sobered. “There’s been no detectable activity in the target for about forty-five minutes.”

The short silence that greeted him meant Lezit found that news concerning as well. “Copy,” was all the Duros said at last. “I’ve got it.”

That was their shorthand for the hour-long shift handoff, and Myn gratefully shifted away from his rifle’s finderscope. He went through his usual contortions to grab his water bottle and half a ration stick while minimizing external movement that would affect his concealment, and after his quick snack he repeated the process to put his water bottle back. He willed himself not to shiver in the cold and inadvertently shake the vegetation on his camouflage suit. At last he folded his arms on the muddy ground, used them as a pillow for his chin, and closed his aching eyes.

Even with as swiftly as sleep tried to come, it didn’t reach him before Lezit’s voice did. “Four.”

The quiet urgency in that word forestalled any external grumbling from Myn, but blast, he was tired. “What?” he asked as he pried his eyes open again.

“I’m seeing a massive amount of sudden movement in the aft hull gaps. Can you confirm?”

Myn’s shoulders protested as he slowly pushed his upper body with all his gear back up to his firing position. He sighted down the sniper rifle’s finderscope, adjusted the settings again to compensate for the increasing shadows as twilight deepened, and zeroed in on the aft hull gaps in his line of sight.

“Confirmed,” he said in a low voice. “That’s the most activity I’ve seen in one concentrated area so far.”

“One, you copy?” Lezit asked.

“I copy,” Sevilin said. “Any indication of what the activity is? What they’re doing?”

“Stand by,” Lezit said. Myn knew he was struggling to interpret the brief glimpses through the small hull breaches just like he was.

“I count five of the crew there so far,” Myn reported after a moment. “I’ve tagged Targets Resh, Senth, Trill, Thresh, and possibly Usk.” Over the course of their surveillance they’d been tracking the six known individual pirates inside based on the color of clothing they were wearing since they often couldn’t see facial features well through the damage holes. It was getting hard to distinguish some colors with the electronic low-light compensation in his equipment, though.

“Confirm Usk. I’ve also got Target Sen on this side,” Lezit said. “That’s everyone we know about so far. They’re all grouped together in the aft of the ship in the cargo hold, and they all seem to be moving the same direction.”

“Farther aft,” Myn verified. “Toward what’s left of the Gurrcat’s cargo hold doors.”

Then they were past the last breached area that Myn could see. “I lost visual,” Myn said.

“Me too,” said Lezit.

“Keep watching,” Sevilin said. “We’re getting ready here just in case. The north unit is tied in as well.”

“I hear something,” Lezit said.

Myn stilled and strained to listen, but it took an extra few seconds for his ears to catch up to the Duros’s sharper hearing. “Airspeeders,” Myn said. He itched to scan the sky for them, but he made himself continue to watch for movement in the wrecked cargo hold far ahead.

“Unless the sound is bouncing off these hills oddly, they’re coming from the general direction of the North-East district. Engine pitch is high enough that they’re probably coming fast,” Lezit said.

“We’ve got this area under a no-fly, so they may be the same ones who helped Gurrcat before,” Sevilin said. “Stay sharp.” She started barking orders to their unit and coordinating with the northern CAF unit.

It only took a minute for the airspeeders to arrive. Over the comm, Myn heard that the airspeeders were three CAV-11 Condors, and at first he wondered if CorSec had arrived to foul things up since they tended to favor using Condors. Then he heard Sevilin’s demands for identification go unanswered, and she ordered their own two HSP-10 Pursuit Airspeeders to launch. Then, “Incoming!” as the three Condors flew into the valley, overflew Gurrcat, and fired some indiscriminate strafing shots on the valley floor before circling back around toward Gurrcat. Myn gritted his teeth and stayed still, focusing on the wreckage. So much for it being CorSec. For once he was disappointed.

A handful of long, tense seconds later, a flurry of silent activity met Myn’s eye through his finderscope. A large piece of misshapen metal wreckage that had been leaning against the ship and blocking any view into the remains of the cargo hold suddenly flew away from Gurrcat as something impacted it hard from behind. That something flew out of Gurrcat’s hold in a burst of speed. Myn reacquired sights on it and tracked it as it shot around the aft wreckage of Gurrcat, then frowned slightly as he tried in an instant to figure out what he was looking at.

Some sort of flat repulsor bed. A damaged laser cannon from the ship mounted on it. Some sort of engine at the rear, burning brightly enough to hurt Myn’s eyes through the enhanced light view of his finderscope. And all six pirates aboard: one by the laser cannon, one at the front with a makeshift control stick, and the other four sitting on the repulsor bed, waving their arms in jubilation as they made their break for freedom.

The patchwork craft turned south, moving faster than a human could run.

Lezit began reporting his interpretation of the odd contraption just as the three Condors circled again and headed south as well, much faster than the pirates’ repulsorlift monstrosity. They were going straight toward the southern access road out of the valley where Myn’s squadmates were positioned.

There was a sudden jumble of CAF comm traffic. Sevilin ordered her unit to take cover. The two HSP-10s engaged the Condors, but they only managed to occupy the attention of two of them. The third Condor kept going and fired at Sevilin’s unit, pinning them down.

Myn’s stomach clenched, but he made himself focus. If those pirates reached his unit with that huge laser cannon while they were pinned down, his squadmates wouldn't stand a chance.

The repulsor operator was on Myn’s side of the makeshift pirate craft while the laser cannon operator was on Lezit’s side, so Myn knew Lezit would be aiming for the gunner.

Myn took careful aim on the repulsor operator. He fought down the surge of adrenaline, slowed his breathing, quickly recalculated the ranges and trajectories against the moving target, held off on a couple interminable seconds of poor target visibility, and finally had a good opportunity. Myn waited for that pause between heartbeats when his aim would be least affected.

A bright flash just behind the repulsor operator made the operator whirl to the side before Myn could fire, and the ungainly vehicle spun with him. A quick glance showed that Lezit’s shot had downed the gunner, and chaos was erupting on the pirates’ repulsor bed craft.

Myn struggled to reacquire his sights on the repulsor operator, but in the midst of the mayhem, one of the pirates pointed up the hillside in the general direction of where Lezit was and shouted to the others. The repulsor operator pointed the craft that way while another pirate dove for the laser cannon controls.

Myn’s laser blast hit the new gunner in the shoulder. That pirate fell sideways as the situation on the repulsorcraft fell into more disarray. The vehicle spun drunkenly out there in the open as the operator didn’t know which way to turn under the invisible, disconcerting, sudden crossfire. Myn stayed as still as he could and kept his finger on the trigger. Lezit’s position was compromised, and he had to buy him a little more time to get out of there.

Sure enough, the first pirate who had pointed at Lezit yelled at the repulsor operator and pointed in that same general direction again, then he reached for the weapon controls.

This time Myn’s scarlet laser bolt hit the weapon controls themselves, and they erupted into a smoking ruin while the newest prospective gunner belatedly jumped back.

A change in pitch of an engine whine met his ears just as Sevilin’s urgent voice came through the comm. “Four, omega!”

Myn finally looked up and saw the unoccupied Condor that had been firing at Sevilin. It was now on the west side of the valley, but it completed its turn and began heading directly for his area of hillside.

Muscles that hadn’t moved in two days now were called upon for instant and full effectiveness. Myn grabbed his sniper rifle and jumped up, throwing aside his vegetation concealment. He bolted.

The hill was slick with mud and raindrops, and his heavy pack made it even harder to keep his balance. The fuzzy, cloud-filtered double moonlight above was the only illumination he had at the moment. He tried to remember the general path he’d come in on two days ago, as it had offered slightly better footing and fewer shrubs and tree roots to trip on. Behind him, the Condor opened fire. The deafening laser blasts impacted the hillside far enough away to tell Myn that the pilot didn’t have a direct bead on him, but they were still much too close for comfort.

There was only one thing Myn could do now: survive.

The Condor looped upward into the sky, twisted, and came back down, firing again as it went. The shots came closer this time. Myn felt heat from them, and debris rained down.

Part of Myn wanted to go up the hillside and over the top to put more dirt between him and the Condor’s lasers, but instead he went down. Some of the pirates would still be trying to spot him, and even at night, his dark silhouette cresting the hill would probably be visible against the patchy grey rainclouds. He slid in the slippery mud as gravity tried to increase his speed without his approval.

Ahead, a little overhang of dead grass and tree roots on the hillside made a small gully where the recent rains had washed some of the dirt away. Myn took cover in the gully for a minute to catch his breath and reassess the situation. He looked around as he quickly and reflexively folded up his sniper rifle.

Another engine roar nearby heralded the arrival of one of the CAF’s HSP-10 airspeeders. It chased the Condor away from Myn momentarily, but the HSP-10 was getting harassed by another of the Condors.

He still had almost a kilometer to go before reaching his unit.

Sevilin’s voice popped on the comm. “Four, status.”

“Little hot over here,” Myn said quietly. “I’m making my way south. Watch that thing the pirates are on. I don’t know if they can still fire it, but they might try to ram through you.”

“We’ve got that covered. Can you make it to a quarter klick from our base position? We can retrieve you there. Point Dorn.”

“Copy. Point Dorn.” Myn ended the transmission, resisting the urge to ask about Lezit. That cranky Duros would be fine, and he wouldn’t appreciate getting distracted from his own retreat by pointless questions from someone who was in no position to help him further anyway.

Myn slung his collapsed sniper rifle across his shoulders and brought his close-quarters E5 blaster carbine into easy grabbing range. Then he tried to clear his mind and focus on nothing but survival. Surviving the next 800 or 900 meters. Surviving the Condor trying to skewer him with a laser. Surviving the armed pirates who would be wanting some payback in blood.

No one seemed to have a direct fix on his current position, though, so stealth would be the name of the game. He adjusted the remaining bits of vegetation attached to his camouflage suit that had gotten bent oddly and snapped during his quick retreat and tried to make his profile more natural-looking.

From the cover of the small gully, Myn listened for a long minute. Most of the natural sounds from animals he’d been listening to these past couple days had quieted at the first laser blasts. That made it easier to pick out the whine of the airspeeders and their relative locations.

Myn did some mental calculations and crept out of cover when he judged the timing to be best. With the slower going, he was able to stay low and concentrate more on where he was stepping and could better avoid the tree roots and puddles of water or gloopy mud that would trip him up or make noise. He consistently headed south, but he varied his path laterally. It wouldn’t do to be predictable just in case someone did have a bead on him.

He had to survive.

As he moved, he tried to match the dark landscape around him to the map in his head of where exactly Point Dorn was.

He was on a steeper portion of the hillside a little more than halfway there when he put his foot down on what looked exactly like solid ground in the dark. It collapsed under him, falling away into the nothingness of another rain-washed gully below. Myn fell, tumbling and sliding uncontrollably down the hillside in the mud until he managed to grab a stubby young tree as he went past. He winced in pain and froze for a moment, trying to determine if anyone had heard or seen him crashing those few meters down the hillside.

A blast from a laser rifle hitting nearby told him someone had.

More joined it. It was coming from the general area where he figured the pirates would be.

Myn got his feet under him, pulled himself up, and ran. He did his best to zig-zag a bit more to throw off their aim. He wasn’t sure how well they could detect him, but some shots got consistently close enough to concern him greatly.

He had to survive. He could do this. He could get himself out of this. He would survive.

He heard a repulsorlift whine approaching fast from behind him amid the continuing spray of blaster bolts, and his racing heart sank. If that was the pirates’ contraption, then surviving became a much more difficult prospect.

He kept running. He looked for any cover as he did so, but there was nothing on this hillside. The mud got more slippery, and Myn was forced to slow slightly to stay on his feet.

The repulsorlift was nearly on him.

He heard the whine shift, and then the repulsorlift was beside him, on the same side the blaster bolts had been coming from.

Myn looked. The craft speeding beside him, matching his pace, and plowing through shrubs and small trees was not the pirates’ repulsor monstrosity, but rather a CAF landspeeder coming from the north. The large side door nearest him was open, and a CAF soldier from the valley’s northern unit was leaning out and extending an arm to Myn. A couple others in the speeder held onto the soldier to anchor him. Through the windows on the other side, Myn saw flashes of blaster bolts hitting the landspeeder as it shielded him from the shots. The windows were cracking from the energy impacts.

A moment of eye contact was all Myn needed. He jumped for the open door and reached for the soldier’s arm. The soldier grabbed him as Myn’s muddy boots scrambled for purchase on the edge of the door frame, and there was a moment of panic when the soldier had trouble holding onto Myn’s slick, wet uniform. Luckily another soldier inside quickly reached forward and securely grabbed a front strap on Myn’s backpack.

The northern unit’s team hauled him inside, and, off-balance, they unceremoniously tumbled to the speeder’s floor. Myn heard someone call, “He’s in, go!” and then the landspeeder swerved down the hillside to more hospitable terrain.

Lying there on his back, exhausted, tangled up in his bulky gear, and covered in mud and dead vegetation, Myn let out a laugh. “Damn, I owe you guys some drinks when this is over.”

He’d survived.

He was a survivor, just like a sniper should be. But thankfully, surviving was always so much easier with help from his team.

*****

 

You sure can write an exciting story with a sniper

 

I got to a point in this story when I forgot I was reading and began actually seeing the action. This is an impressive piece of writing. I'm apparently going to have to re-read some of the X-Wing and Wraith Squadron novels, because I don't remember much about the characters. Fortunately, this was written in such a way that I didn't need to have any background on anyone.

An excellent action/adventure story. (Now I'm beginning to wonder how much combat experience the author has, because all this sounded pretty realistic to me. )

 

Thank you! I had to do research beforehand for some of the sniper details. I'm happy to hear you found it exciting. Thanks for reading and commenting!

Thank you! I'm glad you were able to visualize things without the words getting in the way. It's hard for me to find that balance point sometimes. I apologize, my intro/summary post wasn't very clear about the timeframe, and I'll edit it a bit. The first four events will take place during Myn's pre-Wraith days, and the last event will take place when he's with Wraith Squadron. I'm hoping that all of these will be standalone enough that in-depth knowledge of the Wraiths and the X-wing novels won't be needed. (Though this isn't to dissuade anyone from rereading Wraith Squadron, because it's awesome. )

I thankfully don't have any actual combat experience, but I'm happy to hear that it sounds realistic. I'm sure if people with combat experience read it, they would find errors. I've just had a lot of practice writing military-style action for fanfics over the years and have absorbed what I could about it from other sources. Thank you for reading and commenting!

**

The next event will be posted shortly.

 

Hockey Hug: A 100+ word fluff story featuring your character, couple, family, or friendship.
(Word count: 759)


The pilots’ lounge suddenly got very quiet.

It was enough to attract the attention of Lt. Myn Donos where he sat sideways on an old padded bench serving as a couch and worked on the endless requisitions and forms for his new squadron. He lifted his eyes from the datapad and aimed his sights at the group of Talon Squadron pilots-- his pilots-- at some nearby tables.

A minute ago, they’d been talking and laughing with each other, taking advantage of the downtime between simulator runs and all the odds-and-ends of adjusting to their new base, especially one still experiencing the growing pains of its somewhat temporary nature. Now, the pilots’ volume had abruptly diminished, and they were all huddled around one table intently watching Bezati typing on a datapad and making occasional comments to him in low, excited voices. An air of conspiracy hung over them.

Myn raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right over there?” he asked mildly.

Cort, Tabora, and Gil started and glanced back at him guiltily. Addy, Leax, and Suuvian snickered. The rest kept watching whatever Bezati was working on. His pale lekku twitched as he typed.

Myn was quickly learning to recognize that look. The Twi’lek wasn’t as good of a recreational slicer as he thought he was, but he was harmless. “How many people is this going to get into trouble?” Myn asked.

“None, if I do this right,” Bezati murmured distractedly.

Cayden looked up at Myn, and the Dantooine native offered his squadron leader a bright smile. “He’s seeing if he can make any improvements in the mess hall’s serving menu for the next week or two.”

Addy piped up after quieting her chuckling. “Really, if you think about it, this will benefit everyone at this base. No more mystery meat and dehydrated tubers. We’ll be heroes. Starfighter Command to the rescue.”

“Get your order in now, Lieutenant,” Ferike said with a grin. “Anything you want on the menu?”

“So... you’re slicing into the mess hall’s menu to change it and put better stuff on it for them to serve us,” Myn said. “I see. But what good is it going to do when they see they’re scheduled to serve all these wonderful things but don’t have any of that food or the right ingredients here?”

It had been meant as an offhanded comment, even a joke, but it caused the other Talons to pull up short in realization and look back and forth between each other. That frozen moment was broken by Scilis when she pushed herself over next to Bezati and peered more closely at his datapad screen. The Ishi Tib gave a short honk and commanded, “Bezati, you need to go into the Procurement database first and requisition the ingredients.”

“Shouldn’t be hard,” said Cort with a dismissive wave of his hand. “This is a provisioning center, after all. Getting stuff is kind of their thing.”

“But it means the Procurement databases are more robust and secure,” Scilis said. She was still staring over Bezati’s shoulder, hovering uncomfortably close enough to him that he could probably detect the odor of brine, and then shook her head. “No, no. Not that database. Here, let me, you’re doing it wrong.” She reached for the datapad.

Bezati pulled the datapad away and shielded it protectively with his body. “I am not doing it wrong! Relax, I can order the food we need now that our Illustrious Leader has pointed out our oversight. Someone tell me what food we need.”

Ferike leaned back in her chair, still grinning. “Ten credits says you can’t get into the Procurement database.”

“Fifteen says he can,” Adao piped up.

“You’re on.”

Myn sighed hopelessly. “You know, Bezati, I didn’t survive weeks of Lieutenants Janson and Klivian just to have you take over for them here.”

Bezati glanced at Myn with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It’s my duty to keep you on your toes, Lieutenant. That’s what Lieutenant Janson told me when he graduated us. Special assignment. Said something about how all Corellian commanders need someone like us.”

“Well, if I’m going to end up in the brig because of you anyway, then make sure ryshcate is somewhere on that menu,” Myn told him.

“Yes, sir!”

Myn suppressed a smile and went back to his never-ending paperwork, the amount of which no one had warned him accompanied the position of New Republic squadron leader. But he didn’t care. He just wanted to do right by his pilots.

And damn it, now he was hungry for ryshcate.

*****

 

Their way to get the food they like and love how they are treating Myn

 

Thanks! I think they'd take any opportunity to improve the cafeteria food they're stuck with. And I agree, I imagine there was a good camaraderie in the Talons. Thank you for reading and commenting!

**

Next two events, coming up.

 

Spoiler: Nitpicky continuity detail

Author's note: In the previous event and in this next one, I consider Myn to be a lieutenant during his command of Talon Squadron. Solo Command indicates that he was a brevet captain during that time, but in Wraith Squadron, both Wes and Wedge refer to him as a lieutenant in the context of his Talon command, both before and after the Gravan Seven mission. Right or wrong, the reference in Wraith Squadron is what I'm going with here.

500 Word Speed Skate: A 500 word story featuring your character, couple, family, or friendship with any theme.
(Word count: 500)


He couldn’t breathe, but there was nothing wrong with his X-wing’s life support system.

Lt. Myn Donos’s mind hadn’t stopped reeling during the entire flight from Gravan VII to their base. He kept checking his sensors, begging them to tell him he was horribly mistaken, but they didn’t. There were no other X-wings around him. Talon Squadron was completely gone. Just like that. Ambushed. He was the sole survivor.

He called in for emergency landing clearance at the base and couldn’t answer when the flight controller asked where the rest of his squadron was.

He landed unsteadily in his usual spot in the hangar. The echoing emptiness surrounded him, swallowing his lone fighter whole. Landing berths all around him waited for pilots who would never arrive.

Myn numbly powered down his fighter and opened his canopy. He climbed out on rubbery legs that threatened to buckle and clambered down to the deck without waiting for a ladder. Once on his feet, he stumbled backward until his back hit his X-wing’s port engines. He leaned against them heavily while their whine died away.

His crew chief approached in confusion. So did some emergency responders and eleven other groups of X-wing maintenance crews. They looked back and forth between him and the empty blue sky outside the hangar door.

“Lieutenant, where are the others?” one of them asked. “Are they still coming?”

Myn couldn’t say the words. He didn’t want to respond, but they were all staring at him. Pale and trembling, he shook his head.

Stunned questions erupted, asking what he meant and what had happened. The onslaught washed over Myn until his crew chief, a normally soft-spoken Nautolan, turned and barked ferocious orders to the mechanics, driving the group away from him.

When he had some breathing room, Myn hit the external control to lower his astromech to the deck. Shiner keened a mournful whistle.

Myn sat in a controlled collapse against the droid. It was a relief to feel Shiner’s solid presence beside him. Myn checked him over to ensure Shiner at least was okay, then gripped the droid hard so he wouldn’t see his hands shaking.

He tried to gain control of himself and used every technique he’d learned in the Corellian Armed Forces and Starfighter Command to slow his heart rate. But he couldn’t slow down the racing. He couldn’t find that pause between heartbeats.

He needed distance from the pain. He’d been good at working from a distance, alone, in the CAF. Maybe he could fall back on that now so he could continue to do his job.

It was the only thing that wouldn’t completely break him, anyway.

But those thoughts had to wait until later. Right now, he had to somehow explain to his commander how he’d utterly failed and eleven good people had died.

Shiner allowed Myn to use him as a support while the pilot wobbily climbed to his feet. Myn gratefully patted Shiner’s head, then slowly headed for his commander’s office.


----------------

Single Sentence Ski Jumping: A story starring your character, couple, family, or friendship told in a single sentence.


In his life, Myn Donos had faced armed insurgents, numerous enemies, and Imperials actively trying to kill him, but nothing had prepared him for how impossibly hard it was to write those eleven letters.

*****

 

This must have been utterly devastating for Myn. Coming home alone. All his friends gone. Writing those letters being the most difficult part

 

"Utterly devastating" is a good way to put it. There's a lot he has to heal from afterward as a result of the ambush. Thanks a bunch for reading and commenting!

The last event will be up in a minute.

 

Here's the final event. This one ties directly into some scenes from Wraith Squadron and will likely benefit from familiarity with the book, but hopefully that familiarity will not be required to follow it. Thanks to everyone for following along!


Short Program Song-Fic: A 240 word story featuring your character, couple, family, or friendship inspired by a song or song lyric.
(Word count: 240, not counting the song lyrics shown at the end that inspired the story)


They’d told him late last night that breakfast was at 0800. It was 0805, and Myn held his tray of food at the end of the cafeteria’s serving line, uncertain.

Usually when he’d eaten here, he’d taken a table by himself. There were plenty of empty ones around.

Toward one side was the large table most of the other Wraiths had claimed, and they’d started eating their meal. Falynn, Tyria, Kell, and Face, all looking almost as tired as he felt, were sitting there and watching him silently. Falynn caught his eye and scooted her chair over slightly, invitingly drawing attention to the empty seat next to her.

Still he hesitated. Forcibly facing the loss of the Talons and Shiner last night had been brutal, and while the crushing weight he’d carried so long was mostly gone, he wasn’t sure he could keep going or open himself up again, even to people who obviously cared about him despite everything.

Falynn continued gazing at him steadily. He didn’t want to let her down. Let any of them down.

Though it terrified him, Myn tried to borrow strength from the surplus in her eyes and walked over. He set his tray down and took the empty seat beside her.

Janson was telling some funny story while Phanan interjected with sarcastic quips. Face probably would have joined in if he wasn’t half asleep.

Myn took a deep breath and finally let himself smile.


I’ve been spending the last eight months
Thinking all love ever does
Is break, and burn, and end.
But on a Wednesday in a café
I watched it begin again.

- Taylor Swift, “Begin Again”

*****

 

good to see Myn having friends wanting him to join them and congrats on finishing

 

Nice to see Myn being able to smile. Great work!

 

Thank you! I think it was a good thing for Myn to have joined the Wraiths at that point in his life since they were able to help him through some of it. Thanks for reading and commenting, and for following along!

Thank you! It took some doing for the Wraiths, but I'm glad he was able to smile too. Thanks for reading and commenting!