Last Chance: Myn and Lara - pt. 3


Wedge tapped at the annunciator panel to Lieutenant Wes Janson’s quarters and was rewarded almost immediately by the door sliding open to reveal his broad-shouldered figure. His black brows went up at the sight of his squad’s commander, wearing such an intent expression.

“Spare me a few minutes, Wes?” Wedge asked.

"Yub yub, Commander," Janson grinned, stepping to one side to let him in.

I will die happy if I never hear another 'Yub yub, Commander', Wedge sighed and entered as Janson peered down both lengths of the corridor before pulling his head back inside and closing the door.

"I take it this isn't simply a social call?" Janson asked.

"No, not really," Wedge replied as they moved back into the Lieutenant's quarters. The small room was sparsely furnished, with not much beyond the New Republic military standards. Janson kept his space relatively neat. Getting down to the matter in hand, Wedge began, "I understand you and Myn Donos have become fairly good friends."

Janson nodded slowly. "Well, we're not ready to start picking out rings or anything," his boyish grin returned, "But he's good for conversation over lum, running sims with, playing pin the tail on the bantha, that sort of thing." He shrugged and rested back on his extended arms as he sat on the edge of his bunk.

"How well has he been getting along with everyone else?" Wedge asked. Myn Donos had been trained by Janson and his inseparable friend, Derek 'Hobbie' Klivian, and had graduated to his own command, the ill-fated Talon Squadron. The psychological damage from the loss of that young team, and Myn's subsequent survivor's guilt had almost ended a promising career before it had really begun.

Janson seemed to give this question some thought, before replying with a grin creeping around the corners of his mobile mouth, “He owes half the squad several rounds of ale for welched bets, but-”

"I'm serious, Wes." Wedge let more steel come through in his voice. Accustomed as he was to Janson's wisecracks, he needed to have this data to make a fair and informed decision regarding Donos' request for leave.

Janson raised an eyebrow at his commanding officer, but his survival trait of knowing when to quit kicked in. He was reminded of Wedge's recent 'object lesson' regarding his sense of humour. He might have all the ingenuity in the world, but the senior officer had all the resources.

"He's not such a bad guy when he's not taking life so seriously all the time," Wes replied, at last.

"He's getting better about that, then?" Wedge inquired. The other pilot frowned slightly as he seemed to consider that.

"He hasn't told me about any of those lapses of reality he used to experience...you know, like when we were still with the Wraiths. Letting loose now and then with his decorum seems to agree with him, and hey, it beats having him shoot at his own squadmates." Wedge didn't call Janson on the comment, because Donos had done exactly that, at the height of his relapse, when Lara had revealed her real identity as the person responsible for the Talon's destruction.

Janson continued, "He even got pretty close to drunk two weeks ago, at Hobbie's birthday party. It may sound bad, but it shows he's learning how to actually live. I think it's a good sign."

Wedge nodded, recalling the tenor of that particular occasion, even before he felt compelled to depart or risk dampening the party. "That's really good. I appreciate your candor, Wes." He turned as if to leave but was stopped by Janson's interjection.

"Hey, boss... why do you ask?"

Wedge considered for a moment, choosing his reply carefully. "You've just reassured me that Donos is ready to take a leave from things for a while."

Janson's face broke into a smile. "He put in for leave? That's great, that shows even more that he's..." his voice trailed off as his brain caught up with his mouth. "Leave? He's getting leave? Leave, as in, taking time off away from the squad, not to mention leaving his overworked friends behind? That kind of leave?"

"Yes, exactly that kind of leave, Wes. You have a problem with that?"

"Well, not exactly. I was just thinking that maybe you might want someone to accompany him," Janson shrugged again. "He might need some coaching on how pick up pretty cantina waitresses or something, you never know."

Wedge shook his head. "A lot of help you'd be to him. Your attempts at flirting with waitresses usually result in your face getting slapped, if I'm not mistaken?"

"That's why I need to go with him!" Wes brightened. "I can use Myn as a shield."

"Wes, I don't think that'll give Donos the break he's asking for, do you?" Wedge gave a tight smile in spite of himself.

Janson was on his feet now, seeing him to the door. "You know, I could use some leave myself," Wes continued hinting as though he hadn't heard him. "I've been working such late hours recently, I'm starting to see double."

Wedge couldn't resist. "Try un-crossing your eyes, then," he answered, hitting the panel to open the door, then stepping through. "I warned you your face would freeze like that."

"Aw, you never let me have any fun anymore, Wedge," Wes slumped against the inside wall of his quarters.

And that may be the best reason for you to stay here, Wes, he thought to himself as he left. "I appreciate your help, Wes," he called as he headed down the corridor, returning to his office to put the process in motion to release his pilot for the requested period of time.

Once the correct forms had been filed, leaving Wedge with an odd longing for the more dangerous but far less bureaucratic days of the Rebellion, he cued up his comm link and requested the presence of Myn Donos in his office as soon as he could get there.

~*~


part 4

Back to main page