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sharpiepenTitle: Renegade Squadron
Fandom/Canon: Star Wars
Author:sharpiefan
Word count: ~ 1250
Rating: U
Spoilers:
Pairing/Characters: Wedge Antilles, Hobbie Klivian, original characters
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or any of the canon characters who may show up in the course of this book.
Author's Note:
Summary: Commander Wedge Antilles won his Wraith Squadron bet. Now he has to take a shattered unit and forge them into something new and stronger than they were before, in preparation for taking on the command of his own snubfighter wing.
<-- Chapter 19
There turned out not to be a bar on base – "Yet…" Will said, trailing the word deliberately off – but they found seats in the module that was set up for the canteen, leaving space open for anyone else to join them who wanted to. They were joined by Polin Arash and then Janiel Tsada, the Rodian. Janiel had a datapad with him and seemed to be sketching something, occasionally looking up, his bluish-black eyes gazing into the middle distance as he tapped the datapad’s casing with his stylus.
"What are you doing?" Vaine asked after a moment.
"This is a new Renegade Squadron, a new start," Janiel replied, lisping the Basic as so many Rodians did. He looked up to meet Will’s eyes. "You are from the original squadron, this concerns you probably more than the rest of us." He turned the datapad so that the two human pilots could see the screen. "I thought, perhaps, that a new unit patch for this new beginning would help bring us together more."
The displayed badge had a wide blue ring bordered by two much narrower yellow rings. The space inside the inner ring was black, with a red twelve-pointed star inside of which was a light grey starbird, the symbol of the New Republic, in the form of a stylised bird with upswept wings. Overlaid on top of the starbird was the silhouette of a single X-wing in black, as if viewed from above.
"It draws elements from the patches of both of Commander Antilles’ other two squadrons – if the rumours are true, we’re eventually going to join them as part of a full wing," Janiel continued, his gaze shifting to take in Polin, another of the original Renegades. "And of course the X-wing and the starbird are the current patch, I wasn’t about to change that."
Polin hummed thoughtfully. "We’re not a replacement for Renegade Squadron, we’re a continuation of it, with a new future, and I think you’ve shown that. I think it looks good."
Will nodded in agreement and was about to speak when movement caught his eye. "Vika! Hey – come and look at this."
Vika crossed the room and looked down over Vaine’s shoulder. He shifted to give her room so she could see better.
"It’s only an idea," Janiel said, his antennae twitching nervously.
Vika looked from the displayed image to the patch sewn on Will’s sleeve, which was a black circle with a red starbird and an X-wing silhouette in grey, and back again. "I… I like it," she said slowly, almost unwillingly. "It’s still got our badge, though you’ve switched the colours around. It would look right, next to the Rogue and Wraith patches."
"You should show the Commander," Will said, easily.
Janiel brightened and then wilted again. "You really think so?"
Vika patted him on the shoulder. "Yes. We think so."
General Cracken paused the recorded message, leaving the holographic figure of Wedge Antilles suspended above his desk. The pilot, although a fraction of his actual height and rendered in blue-tinted transparency, seemed poised, standing military-straight, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Apart from his posture, the Commander’s most notable features were the dark eyes under thick-set brows and his angular nose. On the surface, he was an ordinary-looking man, standing shorter than the average human male, but with a strength of character and personality that more than made up for his lack of height. He was, the General reflected, absolutely deadly in the cockpit of a starfighter, and a shrewd tactician in the field. He had no chance at all of bringing Antilles into Intelligence work, despite his insights.
He looked from the holographic representation of Starfighter Command's most decorated (and irritating) pilot to the two other people in the room.
"Ore haulers." That was the male, who was wearing a grey flight suit. He had dark hair and uncommonly handsome features, that had made him a boy star once. Despite the surroundings, he was sitting at his ease, giving the air of a bored aristocrat lounging on his yacht. He ignored the pointed look Cracken threw him.
The woman leaned forward, tapping her fingertips together thoughtfully. When she spoke, her accent was the same as Antilles’, revealing a common system of origin. "What would Krennel want with ore haulers? And why so far from his Hegemony?"
"Loaded ore haulers, Iella," Face added. "We know what ore’s used for. The question is, what precisely is Krennel building with it?"
"That is the question we are all asking." Cracken glanced back at the frozen figure of Wedge Antilles. "This message was sent from the Renegades’ new base on Selcaron. The ambush they so fortunately interrupted was at Uviuy Exen." He pressed a couple of buttons and Commander Antilles was replaced by a star map.
"It’s along the Hydian Way from Halmad. Branch off there along the Veragi Trade Route and you’re in the Ciutric system in only a couple of days or so. Longer, at the speeds those ore haulers travel at, they’re pretty slow," Iella said, thoughtfully, studying the map.
"Is he trying to take over former Zsinj space?" Face had dropped his insouciant pose and come upright so that he could also see the map.
"That is the other question." Cracken looked at the map, unfolding his arms enough to cup his chin in his hand. "Krennel has been quiet all during the Thrawn campaign. He doesn’t have the genius of Thrawn – or even Zsinj or Isard, although he’s just as ruthless. He takes the Empire’s whole non-human rhetoric extremely seriously. Whatever he’s planning, we need to stop him."
"That shouldn’t be too hard if he’s holed up on Ciutric," Face observed.
Cracken narrowed his eyes and gave his operative a tight smile. "You would think so, wouldn’t you?"
Krennel paused the holographic recording, leaving the TIEs and their adversaries frozen in flight above his desk. He scowled at the nearest X-wing, the dual beams from its laser cannon paused in suspended animation, the TIE it was targeting already beginning to come apart. He touched a button and zoomed in on the Rebel fighter, its grey and red paint job unmarred by any kill markers.
"What unit is this?" he demanded, looking through the transparent blue of the holographic fighter to his second-in-command and the man standing beside him. The red markings were reminiscent of Rogue Squadron, but there were two fighters in confirmed Rogue colours, one of which was confirmed to be the thrice-damned Antilles, and this fighter’s markings were different.
"That would appear to be Renegade Squadron." The speaker was the second man, who stood a few centimetres taller than Krennel’s own 1.77 metres, and was more sturdily built with it. It amused the Prince-Admiral that he was built more like a pilot than the head of his fighter units.
"Renegade Squadron." He repeated the unit designation thoughtfully, and tapped at a datapad. "I thought they were destroyed at Derra IV?" he said, fixing the pilot with a withering glare.
The pilot seemed unaffected by Krennel’s glower. "They were, sir. This unit was established after Endor, taking that unit’s name. I believe there were Renegade pilots who were not at Derra IV and this unit was built around them."
"Why is Antilles flying with them?"
The pilot and the Navy officer beside him exchanged glances. "I don’t know, sir."
"Find out." Krennel narrowed his eyes. "Not that it matters much. I want them destroyed."
"As ordered, sir."
Fandom/Canon: Star Wars
Author:
sharpiefanWord count: ~ 1250
Rating: U
Spoilers:
Pairing/Characters: Wedge Antilles, Hobbie Klivian, original characters
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or any of the canon characters who may show up in the course of this book.
Author's Note:
Summary: Commander Wedge Antilles won his Wraith Squadron bet. Now he has to take a shattered unit and forge them into something new and stronger than they were before, in preparation for taking on the command of his own snubfighter wing.
<-- Chapter 19
There turned out not to be a bar on base – "Yet…" Will said, trailing the word deliberately off – but they found seats in the module that was set up for the canteen, leaving space open for anyone else to join them who wanted to. They were joined by Polin Arash and then Janiel Tsada, the Rodian. Janiel had a datapad with him and seemed to be sketching something, occasionally looking up, his bluish-black eyes gazing into the middle distance as he tapped the datapad’s casing with his stylus.
"What are you doing?" Vaine asked after a moment.
"This is a new Renegade Squadron, a new start," Janiel replied, lisping the Basic as so many Rodians did. He looked up to meet Will’s eyes. "You are from the original squadron, this concerns you probably more than the rest of us." He turned the datapad so that the two human pilots could see the screen. "I thought, perhaps, that a new unit patch for this new beginning would help bring us together more."
The displayed badge had a wide blue ring bordered by two much narrower yellow rings. The space inside the inner ring was black, with a red twelve-pointed star inside of which was a light grey starbird, the symbol of the New Republic, in the form of a stylised bird with upswept wings. Overlaid on top of the starbird was the silhouette of a single X-wing in black, as if viewed from above.
"It draws elements from the patches of both of Commander Antilles’ other two squadrons – if the rumours are true, we’re eventually going to join them as part of a full wing," Janiel continued, his gaze shifting to take in Polin, another of the original Renegades. "And of course the X-wing and the starbird are the current patch, I wasn’t about to change that."
Polin hummed thoughtfully. "We’re not a replacement for Renegade Squadron, we’re a continuation of it, with a new future, and I think you’ve shown that. I think it looks good."
Will nodded in agreement and was about to speak when movement caught his eye. "Vika! Hey – come and look at this."
Vika crossed the room and looked down over Vaine’s shoulder. He shifted to give her room so she could see better.
"It’s only an idea," Janiel said, his antennae twitching nervously.
Vika looked from the displayed image to the patch sewn on Will’s sleeve, which was a black circle with a red starbird and an X-wing silhouette in grey, and back again. "I… I like it," she said slowly, almost unwillingly. "It’s still got our badge, though you’ve switched the colours around. It would look right, next to the Rogue and Wraith patches."
"You should show the Commander," Will said, easily.
Janiel brightened and then wilted again. "You really think so?"
Vika patted him on the shoulder. "Yes. We think so."
General Cracken paused the recorded message, leaving the holographic figure of Wedge Antilles suspended above his desk. The pilot, although a fraction of his actual height and rendered in blue-tinted transparency, seemed poised, standing military-straight, hands clasped loosely behind his back. Apart from his posture, the Commander’s most notable features were the dark eyes under thick-set brows and his angular nose. On the surface, he was an ordinary-looking man, standing shorter than the average human male, but with a strength of character and personality that more than made up for his lack of height. He was, the General reflected, absolutely deadly in the cockpit of a starfighter, and a shrewd tactician in the field. He had no chance at all of bringing Antilles into Intelligence work, despite his insights.
He looked from the holographic representation of Starfighter Command's most decorated (and irritating) pilot to the two other people in the room.
"Ore haulers." That was the male, who was wearing a grey flight suit. He had dark hair and uncommonly handsome features, that had made him a boy star once. Despite the surroundings, he was sitting at his ease, giving the air of a bored aristocrat lounging on his yacht. He ignored the pointed look Cracken threw him.
The woman leaned forward, tapping her fingertips together thoughtfully. When she spoke, her accent was the same as Antilles’, revealing a common system of origin. "What would Krennel want with ore haulers? And why so far from his Hegemony?"
"Loaded ore haulers, Iella," Face added. "We know what ore’s used for. The question is, what precisely is Krennel building with it?"
"That is the question we are all asking." Cracken glanced back at the frozen figure of Wedge Antilles. "This message was sent from the Renegades’ new base on Selcaron. The ambush they so fortunately interrupted was at Uviuy Exen." He pressed a couple of buttons and Commander Antilles was replaced by a star map.
"It’s along the Hydian Way from Halmad. Branch off there along the Veragi Trade Route and you’re in the Ciutric system in only a couple of days or so. Longer, at the speeds those ore haulers travel at, they’re pretty slow," Iella said, thoughtfully, studying the map.
"Is he trying to take over former Zsinj space?" Face had dropped his insouciant pose and come upright so that he could also see the map.
"That is the other question." Cracken looked at the map, unfolding his arms enough to cup his chin in his hand. "Krennel has been quiet all during the Thrawn campaign. He doesn’t have the genius of Thrawn – or even Zsinj or Isard, although he’s just as ruthless. He takes the Empire’s whole non-human rhetoric extremely seriously. Whatever he’s planning, we need to stop him."
"That shouldn’t be too hard if he’s holed up on Ciutric," Face observed.
Cracken narrowed his eyes and gave his operative a tight smile. "You would think so, wouldn’t you?"
Krennel paused the holographic recording, leaving the TIEs and their adversaries frozen in flight above his desk. He scowled at the nearest X-wing, the dual beams from its laser cannon paused in suspended animation, the TIE it was targeting already beginning to come apart. He touched a button and zoomed in on the Rebel fighter, its grey and red paint job unmarred by any kill markers.
"What unit is this?" he demanded, looking through the transparent blue of the holographic fighter to his second-in-command and the man standing beside him. The red markings were reminiscent of Rogue Squadron, but there were two fighters in confirmed Rogue colours, one of which was confirmed to be the thrice-damned Antilles, and this fighter’s markings were different.
"That would appear to be Renegade Squadron." The speaker was the second man, who stood a few centimetres taller than Krennel’s own 1.77 metres, and was more sturdily built with it. It amused the Prince-Admiral that he was built more like a pilot than the head of his fighter units.
"Renegade Squadron." He repeated the unit designation thoughtfully, and tapped at a datapad. "I thought they were destroyed at Derra IV?" he said, fixing the pilot with a withering glare.
The pilot seemed unaffected by Krennel’s glower. "They were, sir. This unit was established after Endor, taking that unit’s name. I believe there were Renegade pilots who were not at Derra IV and this unit was built around them."
"Why is Antilles flying with them?"
The pilot and the Navy officer beside him exchanged glances. "I don’t know, sir."
"Find out." Krennel narrowed his eyes. "Not that it matters much. I want them destroyed."
"As ordered, sir."
