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

Revenge of the Pilots
Part Four
by Nic

As Hobbie’s head cleared, he could make out the sights and sounds of others speaking in low tones. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, instantly regretting it. It felt like a ten-ton bantha had taken up residence in his cranial cavity and was now barrelling around in his skull.

“Hobbie, are you okay?” The soothing tones of Wedge managed to scare the bantha into enough submission so the mournful pilot could function.

“I-I think so.” He looked around the room, relief sweeping through him as he saw Wes, eyes gong wide as the others swam into focus. “What ha—” the question died on his lips as he got a good look at Wedge. A sudden burst of laughter escaped his lips, drawing the stares and grins from the other pilots.

Wedge frowned. “Something amusing, Lieutenant?”

With a final snort, Hobbie shook his head and cleared his throat. “So where are we and what the Sith happened?”

Tycho, clad only in sleep-pants, called out, “We were just trying to figure it out. We have no clue as to what happened, and no one could get a good look at our attackers.”

Hobbie straightened up and coughed, “I got a semi-good look.”

Each and every pilot turned to look at him.

With a shrug, he explained: “All I saw was greenish skin and a snout.”

Face’s features darkened. “Piggy.”

Phanan gave him a curious look. “You think it was him?”

“I think kidnapping Rogues and Wraiths is something only a Wraith would think about, let alone attempting it.”

Wedge grinned. “So you’ve thought of kidnapping your fellow squadmates?”

Face flushed and shrugged. “Not the men, at any rate…”

Phanan snorted. “I’ll let Dia know that. She’ll be so pleased.”

Wedge stood and adjusted his towel. The other pilots were in various states of sleepwear, Wes the only one wrapped only in a sheet. “Guys, we aren’t doing anyone any good bickering. Suppose it was Piggy and any of the other Wraiths. We need to figure out why, and where we are.”

Phanan threw a pillow at Corran. “Hey, Jedi-boy. Can you use that Force-thing to figure out where we are?”

Corran sighed and got very, very still. He closed his eyes. He frowned. With a silly grin, he opened his eyes and looked at Phanan. “We’re in a building. More specifically, we’re in a room, in a building.”

Everyone groaned.

Continued in Part Five