Last Chance: Myn and Lara - pt. 4


Myn Donos paused outside his commander’s office, wondering if he should be relieved or disappointed when his request was denied. Things had been pretty quiet for more than a week, which was usually a danger sign for the hardest working squad in the New Republic military. The wiry pilot tapped the annunciator and then entered at his commanding officer’s call to enter.

Wedge Antilles greeted his pilot’s arrival with a nod of acknowledgement, even as he finished his communication. “I’ll take that under advisement, General, but-... No, Sir. Yes, Sir, that’s what I said. Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Antilles out.” His brown eyes rolled as he closed the commlink. “Glad you could make it here so quickly, Myn.”

Myn nodded, still holding stiffly to attention in front of his commanding officer. Commander Antilles gestured to a seat and Myn hesitated, until Wedge raised an expressive eyebrow at him. “Question, Lieutenant Donos?”

“Yes Sir.” His face as deadpan as the old, damaged Myn Donos, the young pilot asked in all seriousness, “Boots on or off, Sir?”

The commander’s head cocked to the side, and then a wide grin broke out over his face as he recalled the last time Myn had been called into his office. On that occasion, he’d ordered Myn to remove one boot and assume a most unmilitary posture, while he forced him to confront his obsessive control and, more importantly, the cracks in Myn’s sanity it was covering. Myn’s lack of a sense of humour had been symptomatic of something much deeper and deadlier, and Wedge had pulled the only trick he could think of to get to the root of Myn’s problems.

The object lesson in absurdity of being without a boot, with his feet propped on his commanding officer’s desk, while Commander Antilles fired brutal questions at him regarding hard choices, had hit home. Myn’s progress back to sanity had been exponential from that point. It was a poignant memory for the both of them, Myn, realised, as the Rogue leader’s grin faded somewhat before he shook his head. “On, Lieutenant,” he replied, meeting Myn’s eyes with a renewed smile.

Myn smiled back and sank into the proffered chair, keeping both boots on and both feet squarely on the floor. “That being the case, Sir, may I hazard a guess as to why I’m here?”

Antilles shook his head. “The General’s asking for me to consult on something, so I’ll make it quick, Lieutenant. I’m authorising your leave, starting at sixteen hundred hours today.”

Myn’s jaw dropped in surprise, “I can go?” He swallowed his amazement in sudden fear that Commander Antilles might take it amiss.

Wedge’s face softened into an expression of genuine warmth, his dark eyes twinkling. “Yes, Myn, you can go. Are you packed?”

Myn shook his head and subsided back into his seat, a bemused smile on his handsome face. “I had not thought...” he lifted his eyes to regard his commander’s face, “You would let me go,” he finished at last.

“You and your ship. I want you to relax and get back to enjoying yourself in the cockpit, so I’ve authorised your use of an X-Wing and astromech during your leave.”

A nod of the head signalled his understanding of this change of procedure. “Sir, you are aware of where I am planning to go?”

Antilles raised a hand to forestall any details. “Yes. I’ve had Intel throw together a cover identity of a CorSec officer on leave for you, and your ship is being repainted to CorSec colours now, in keeping with that.” He slid a folder across the table to Myn. “Details of your cover, and all pertinent documents are in there. Your commlink will remain on and active at all times, in case we need to call you back for any reason.” He regarded Myn in silence for a few seconds, and then added, as an informal dismissal, “Lieutenant, your time is your own for the next three weeks.” The senior officer’s eyes bored into Myn’s. “Make the most of it.”

Myn nodded his understanding, and rose. “Thank you, Sir!” He snapped off a precise salute and pivotted on his heel to exit Rogue Leader’s office, hiding his emotions as always in the rigors of military efficiency, but for a hesitation at the door. He turned back to his commanding officer, and let free a smile, allowing his gratitude to his commander to show in his expression. He was gratified to catch a glimpse of an answering smile before the door slid shut behind him.

He quashed the flow of trepidation that swept through him at the thought of his destination, and who he hoped waited for him. By sixteen hundred hours, he’d be on his way to Corellia, to see again this woman whose destiny seemed so tied to his own.

~*~


part 5

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