Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were made and no disrespect is intended with this fic.



My Month with the Gods
Part Ten
by Banshee


Most of the Rogues were at the restaurant when Mirax and I arrived. I spotted Wedge and made my way toward him, taking a mental roll call as I did. It appeared that Wes and Hobbie were the only two missing. Big surprise.

I took one look around the place and had to question Rysati's sanity. Being a former Rogue herself, I thought she would have known better than to bring Wes and Hobbie to such a location and expect them to behave. Perhaps they could act more mature when properly motivated.

I was still unsure how to react to Wedge in public especially given last night?s activities. When I reached his side, he gave me a one-armed hug and introduced me to Rysati, Narawa?s wife and former-Rogue.

As soon as I was able, I got Wedge alone to ask him about the comm call from the morning. He shrugged and glanced nervously across the room at Tycho. "It was nothing. Just Wes and Hobbie being Wes and Hobbie," he replied vaguely. Considering what I knew of those two, I was sure I probably didn?t want to know what he meant. [1]

Hobbie arrived shortly thereafter with a blond man dressed entirely in black. As they drew closer, I realized with surprise that his companion was the Jedi Luke Skywalker. "Hey, Wedge. Look who I found roaming around HQ," the mournful Rogue said with a lopsided grin.

Wedge greeted his former CO with a backslapping embrace. "I didn?t know you were on-planet. I?d like you to meet General Sandra Xen of Jovan. Sandy, Luke Skywalker," he introduced us with a smile.

"It?s an honor to meet you, Master Skywalker, and please call me Sandy," I told the blond Jedi as we shook hands.

"It?s just Luke," he told me with a shy smile. He turned to Wedge, "Is this the same Sandy Xen you kept telling me we needed to find when we were putting the Rogues together back on Hoth?"

I lifted my eyebrows at Wedge, "You wanted to recruit me?"

He shrugged sheepishly, "I just said you were a good pilot."

Luke grinned mischievously, "He also said you were strong-willed enough to be able to put up with us."

My gaze shifted between the two before settling on Wedge, "Let me guess. Strong-willed is just a polite way for a Jedi to say stubborn and hard-headed?"

"You know, Wedge, I think I?m going to like her," Luke said with a chuckle.

Before he could finish, Hobbie groaned pitifully and walked away shaking his head, grumbling something about another one. When Luke and Wedge turned questioningly to me, I just shrugged innocently.

Luke tried to greet Corran who had joined us but didn?t get the chance. He was picked up from behind in a suffocating Wookiee hug from none other than Wes Janson. His feet dangled off the floor as Corran mumbled something to Wes about a Jedi?s dignity. Wes gave the short pilot a mock-glare before answering, "Jedi-smedi; he?s an ex-Rogue."

I laughed in spite of myself and nudged Wedge in the ribs, "So this is why you don?t want to leave the Rogues... Kind of like the husband who brings his wife everywhere so he doesn?t have to kiss her goodbye?"

Wes dropped Luke rather unceremoniously and glared at me. "I?m really starting not to like you," he growled as he turned and stalked off. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Luke covering his laughter with a black-clad hand.

Wedge smirked, "Did I forget to mention she also has something of a smart mouth?"

****

Later that evening I found myself in a booth at a nearby club sandwiched between Wedge and Tycho; the former still carrying on an animated discussion with Luke who was on his other side. Two empty seats were across the table where Wes and Hobbie were sitting when they joined us.

At first, I had been rather reluctant to join "the boys" for a night on the town since having a female along might put a cramp Wes' plans for the evening. Tycho and Wedge were quick to reassure me and I knew Wedge would be torn if I left so I gave in against my better judgment.

Tycho and I were enjoying watching Wes and Hobbie prowl. We made a game out of trying to predict the pair?s next target or targets and their level of success. Occasionally the two would return to the table, one or the other usually sporting a red mark on the cheek from having been slapped by one or more of the many females on the premises.

****

It was late by the time we left the club so Wedge offered to take Luke back to his apartment, which was some distance. Tycho, Wes, Hobbie and I headed back to base. I had to laugh as Wes and Hobbie walked slightly ahead of us, both were pretty drunk and had an arm slung around each other?s shoulders in an attempt to hold themselves upright.

As we passed one of the many alleys, I heard several voices in the shadows. What called my attention to them was a familiar accent; one or more in the group was from Jovan. Before I could turn toward the sounds, I was shoved violently to the ground, face first.

When I again got my feet under me, half a dozen assorted beings dressed to look like common street thugs surrounded us. I could see two figures watching from a darkened doorway and knew they were the owners of the voices with Jovanese accents.

I muttered under my breath to Tycho, "Doorway. Ten o?clock." He spotted the shadows in question and nodded then slowly reached into his jacket, probably for a comlink, but the leader of the group encircling us stopped him with a shake of his head.

Wes and Hobbie were surprisingly sober as the four of us turned our backs to each other. I could hear Wes complaining about not having a blaster when he needed one. He also added a few epitaphs about Wedge not letting him off the base with a weapon anymore. I hoped that was for the benefit of our audience as the Rogues always seemed to carry hidden vibroblades, even when on base.

One of the shadows spoke, "No one has to get hurt here but the little lady is coming with us."

Wes, ever the gentleman, replied before I could, "Go find your own. This one is ours."

The Rogues were much more experienced at down-and-dirty fighting but as I watched our antagonists, I knew I had an advantage because this was a style with which I was very familiar. I thanked whatever gods I knew for the last-minute decision to wear the throwing knives I keep hidden up my sleeves.

A chill ran up my spine as the leader of the "ruffians" spoke. It was a voice I knew all too well; I turned toward him and, sure enough, I spotted a familiar face under all the dirt and grime. The chill became a block of ice that settled itself in the pit of my stomach.

I really didn?t want to see anyone get hurt, but I knew that going with these men would not protect my friends. The throwing knives felt good against my forearms and I just hoped I could delay things long enough for the Rogues to retrieve their various hidden weapons, most of which were in boots.

I caught the glint of light off a vibroblade in the group and made that the target of my first knife. The owner of the hand howled in pain and clutched it to his chest as he backed away. This was all the opening my companions needed as all hell broke loose.

I could hear Wes? voice yelling something about Hobbie being hurt and we shifted our stances as Tycho pulled the ill fated pilot into the center of our little circle and told him to get on the comm and call for help.

By the time Wedge got there, two of our attackers lay unconscious and the others had fled, one having to be carried by his associates. Tycho and Wes seemed none the worse for wear but Hobbie was sporting a growing red stain on the front of his shirt and I had an assortment of bruises and a light knick in one shoulder.




[1] PLOT-BUNNY ANYONE?

Continued in Part Eleven