After years of dogfights and battles, both in space and planetside, Wedge Antilles knew trouble when he saw it. Today it faced him across his desk in the form of two buxom sisters that he had the dubious pleasure of being commanding officer to.
The one who had been under his command the longest, Celeste Moonfire, was an excellent pilot, took orders unquestionably, and somehow managed to be trained as a Jedi sometime during her unmentioned past. The other, Selina, was as arrogant as any Corillian, and the Squadron's misfit. She wouldn't say how she spent her life before entering Rogue Squadron, but since she kept company with bounty hunters during her downtime, it was assumed that it involved highly illegal activities. The two brunettes were part of a set of triplets that had been separated sometime during their childhood. And the third of the threesome was someone very dear to him.
The pair stood at attention, waiting for him to speak. "What do you two want?" he asked, trying not to take his frustration out on his pilots. It wasn't their fault he was drowning in paperwork and meetings.
Selina spoke first, as always. She was the most vocal, and mouthy of the trio. A trait Wedge was sure had gotten her into most of the trouble that had plagued her during her unmentioned past. "Sir, we wanted to remind you of Risha's birthday. She was hoping that you would spend the evening with her."
Wedge dragged a hand through his black hair. He really did want to spend time with Risha, but with all the work that had been shoveled onto him it was impossible. "I can't," he sighed. "There's too much work."
"We could take care of some of it," Celeste offered. "There must be some mundane little tasks we can do that won't compromise security. Filing. Typing…"
"Nothing," he said more harshly than he intended. Gods, he needed a break. If only he could take the evening off and spend it with Risha. She'd wear one of those provocative little outfits of hers and they would probably end up in bed instead of going to dinner. Not that he would regret the change in plans…"I don't have the time. I'm sorry."
"I sense that he's in a bad mood."
Selina rolled her eyes. "I don't need the Force to figure that one out, duh!"
Celeste glanced at her sister, then looked straight ahead, brown eyes seeming to stare THROUGH him. "He can be such a nerf when he's in a bad mood," she murmured.
"No accounting for taste," Selina sighed.
The Jedi elbowed her sister. "So Rish doesn't have your Fettish for Mandalorian armor."
"Oh hush up," Selina countered, sticking her tongue out at her sister. Then Selina straightened and saluted her commanding officer. "Permission to speak freely, Sir."
"It seems that you two are speaking freely now," Wedge replied dryly, then sighed, "At ease." Selina grinned at General Antilles and sprawled into the chair across from his desk, propping her feet on one of the few clear spots on its surface. "I didn't mean for you to be THAT much at ease."
Selina smiled at her commanding officer. "Consider it a sign of my lack of parental influence during my formative years."
"Or a lack of respect for your commanding officer," Wedge said tightly, wondering why the two sisters had decided to use his office for a rec room. "Get your boots off my desk."
Selina looked over her shoulder to smirk at her sister. "He thinks he's in charge."
Celeste shrugged. "Most men have that delusion."
"Shall we show him the truth?" Selina removed her boots and stood behind her sister. "Ready?"
"Ladies," Wedge interrupted hastily as Celeste nodded. The General's eyes almost crossed as the Jedi gestured at him. "You will do as we say."
"I will do as you say…" Wedge intoned, brown eyes slightly glazed.
Selina whispered into her sister's ear and Celeste grinned. "And you will NOT court martial us for what we do today."
"I will not court martial…"
Risha felt her jaw drop, the bags she had been carrying slipped from unfeeling fingers as she stared at the man tied to her bed.
General Wedge Antilles, commander of Rogue and Wraith Squadrons. The only man to survive missions against both Death Stars was tied to her bed with red satin ribbons wearing nothing but another bow that had been strategically placed and a look of confusion. Strung from the ceiling was a banner proclaiming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY RISHA!"
Only two people had the audacity to go to such measures to give her the perfect present…
"Risha, could you please cut me loose?" Wedge pleaded, dragging her from her thoughts.
Risha grinned and stalked over to her lover. "Of course, dear.
not until I've taken full advantage of the situation…."
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