Friday, December 23, 2005


OK, so today is my last day of duty before my holiday break.

The good news is that I got my personal terminal working back at my quarters. I did some tinkering and a great deal of swearing, and now it is operating reasonably well.

The bad news is that this morning I got some transfer orders. I must clean out my desk and locker, and stuff, and box it all up. When I get back from leave, the whole squadron will be re-posted to another carrier.

So, I get on the phone and call my CO and try to find out what the heck is going on. I get a stpry about 'consolidating resources'. It seems that my old carrier, RMS Phluptah, is going to be retired. They want to put Rogue Squadron on a newer, more efficient, carrier the RMS Organa. Yup, you guess it, named after the princess. I just hope it is not all pink and lavender on the inside.

So, instead of finishing up paperwork for my leave, I will pack everything up and then head for Corellia. When I get back, then I will spend my first days looking for my new quarters and office.

Keep 'em flying, people.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Gotta see this.

It is amazing the things I have been finding cruizing the blog world:

I now appreciate you Jedi guys a little more.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

The Holidays

So, because it is the winter solstice on Corsecant, the whole fleet is getting a few, well deserved, days off. I'm up for that! In fact, I am using the time to head back to Corellia to visit family. On Corellia, we have our own seasons and holidays. I say this in case I end up having such a wonderful time and I don't post quite as often.

It is also winter back home, but it is actually cold where my mom lives. The winter holiday on Corsecant is from eons of tradition. The whole planet is one big city, so they really do not understand the concept of 'Winter' anymore. Plus, while the Emperor was in charge, such celebrations and observances were suspended. Now, personally, I think that was the Emperor's real downfall. All the people had to celebrate was Palpatine's birthday (or rather birth-month). There were parties, and vid specials, and parades, and decorations. This would go on for several weeks at a time.

Now on most of the outer planets, like where I grew up, the local beliefs were overlooked by the governors, as long as they were subdued. Our local reverend did keep his head down, but then he took off to other worlds.

Thinking back on it now, we did dress up sort of funny, but I was a kid and thought it was fun.

So anyway, I wish you all Happy Holidays.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

He got WHAT?

To continue this tale,

You probably know the rest of the story. Most of Red Team gets knocked out, taking most of the tie-fighters with them. The main assault cannot seem to hit the air vent, so Red Team starts going in to give it a try.

After Red Leader gets hit from behind, Skywalker's on the com, "Oh! Oh! Let me try!"

At this point, I am in charge of Red Team, as anyone else of rank is either dead or out of the battle, so I figure, why not? This kid has been the luckiest son-of-a-gun I've ever flown with.

"OK, Red Six, go on in. I'll try to hold them off up here."

In he goes. He is just about to get his little fanny blown up when, from out of no-where comes this Corellian freighter, and blows away the last of the trailing tie-fighters. Red Six makes his shot and everyone, who can, turns tail and hits the after-burners.

Kaboom, yadda, yadda, yadda, and we all celebrate. When we all get back to the hanger on Yavin 4, Princess Leia Organa shows up all happy and looking real nice so I'm thinking of combing my hair and all. Maybe walk up and introduce myself. Youknow, "Hi, I've seen you around here before" and stuff like that.

Damn if she doesn't run up to Skywalker and this Solo guy and get all chummy with them! Hey Princess, the rest of us could use a little gratitude too!

To top it all, and end this silly flash-back, what's left of the squadron and all the rest of the Rebel base personnel are ordered to fall out for a formal presentation. Well, guess who is decorated AND promoted? Oh Brother! It took a lot of self-control to stay quite while standing there, but you could hear the moans and groans from the guys around me.

On one hand I can understand Skywalker getting an award for blowing up the Death Ballon, but Solo? And, I heard that alll that they gave his Wookie co-pilot was a bag of kibble! And I hear that Solo got to keep most of those credits he was given before the battle started. Yeah, Han, don't think we didn't see that! There is no justice in this galaxy. As the saying goes, "I'd rather be lucky than good."

So, I plugged along, keeping my skills sharp. Eventually, after Skywalker left the military to revive the Jedi Knights, I was promoted to Rogue Leader.

At least I survived the overthrow of the old Empire.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Why do they call it a Death Star?

A couple of posts ago, I was telling a story about my first encounter with Mr. Skywalker. Then I got a little sidetracked, a little drunk, and my terminal terminated. So, now I want to finish my story about that day.

OK, the squadron is headed down, toward this really big sphere called a 'Death Star'. I don't know why it is called a star. It doesn't glow or anything, at least as far as I could see, but OK, they have to call it something. Also, it certainly doesn't have the mass of a star, or even a planet. I was watching my gravitometer and I noticed that it did not have the gravitational pull that its size would indicate. Hey, that's no moon, its a balloon!

OK, so Red Team is zooming around doing our best to knock out the Empire's tie-fighters. These guys are pretty good, but they do not have the guns that an x-wing has. They do maneuver better, however, so that can be a problem.

Here I am watching Skywalker's (Red Six) right side. Over the Death Star's short horizon comes a wave of ties. An obvious flanking move by the Empire. I don't think that they have figured out our strategy yet, so we are doing fine.

The ties fire some energy bolts and then I hear red six screaming into the microphone, "Yeee Gods! That one was close! Oh man, are all those guys heading for US?!?"

"Calm down, Red Six! Yes they are trying to attack the flank. That means they are ours."


"That's an affirmative. Red Leader, this is Red Three, we have contacts on the right flank." I knew what the next move would be, but I didn't want to tell Skywalker, in case he started whining again.

"Roger that. Red Team, this is Red Leader. Stay on me and go to formation Gamma."

Now it was time to break the news to the kid. "Red Six, turn right, and follow the lead fighter. I'll still be on your six."

Actually, the screaming was tolerable. I also figured out that when he was especially high pitched he actually flew very well. Must be a fight-flight response. Also, I am glad I stayed behind him. He flew so erratically that the tie fighters appeared to be confused and even afraid of him. When they would dodge out of his way, I ended up with an open shot. I had three kills within 10 minutes.

At last I saw some energy bolts coming out of Skywalker's guns. Good, he found the trigger. I really did not have the time to talk him through that part. With some dumb luck, and also scaring the poop out of the enemy pilots, Red Six nailed a couple of tie-fighters himself.

"Hey, look Wedge, I got another one! I got another one! Wow, this Force stuff is pretty cool!"

I had no idea what he was taking about, but we seemed to be doing well in our efforts. And Skywalker was settling down, so I turned the volume of my intercom back up. Now what I really needed was a couple of Tylenol.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

Terminal down!... I got a terminal down here!

Few things are more frustrating than having your personal terminal go down, especially on a weekend. On a weekend it is very difficult to get any support. Well, it appears that the mass storage device on my personal terminal decided to die on me yesterday. So, I am in the pilot's lounge, up here on the carrier, the NRS Phluptah (don't ask me), and I am trying to finish this post before anyone sees me.

It is not against the rules to do this, I just don't want the other guys to know that I blog for fun. You know, a group leader needs to maintain some mystic and be stoic, and this kind of thing gets laughed at.

Anyway, I spend the whole afternoon and evening yesterday trying to figure out what was wrong with my terminal. It crashed a couple of times, then would not boot. I got tot he point where I re-loaded the operating system and next thing I know the BIOS is not seeing the storage device. (I put this terminal together myself).

Bantha Fodder! Well that will just have to wait. At least I have this other means of... HEY! Shut up Williams! I am not a weenie... Uh, I gotta go.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

On my day off

People have asked me, "Hey, Wedge, you are such a fun guy, what do you do on your days off?"

Well, first I tell them, "Mind your own damn business! I don't give autographs anymore and no, I can't get you a lock of Chewbacca's hair!" I am a little sensitive about such things, especially after that stalker thing, but that's a story for another time.

But, as it is Saturday, and I don't have OD duty, I typically head planet-side, which-ever planet we happened to be next to, and shop or try the latest fad-food restaurant. One thing I have learned is that this galaxy seems to be getting smaller.

It used to be that each major planet had a unique feel and culture about it. True, many of them weren't to my taste, but most were pretty interesting. Nowadays, they all have the big malls and the same stores and the McBurgerland and Astrobuck's coffee places. You know, I was back on Endor a few months ago, and the actually have a Vallerie's Secret store? What's up with that? Since when do these creatures wear lingerie?

So, in many ways, everywhere can seem like home. The only real problem is when I want to see a movie. It sometimes gets difficult to find a place that has a film in my language. Most have a version in Galactic Basic, but those translations are very hokey. On the other hand, if you want a real laugh, go watch "Gone With The Wind" on Kashyyk.

I was hanging out with Chewy, and we got kind of drunk, and we went into the Millennium Falcon and he put on this old vid of that movie and it was hilarious. I mean when this one chick starts talking like Chewy, I lost it. It was "Grrrwahh this and Hrrrghlawhh that". Man I was almost on the floor fromlaughing so hard. Things got a little fuzzy after that, but I do remember that part.

Well, I have cleaned my quarters, made my bunk, and now Major Jenkins and I are headed down to Planet Acturus. He says he knows a special spot down there that he heard about from some marine named Hudson, I think. Gotta go.

Friday, December 16, 2005

That's no moon...

So, as I was saying, this Skywalker kid finally starts to settle down and stay in some sort of formation. Next we are supposed to jump to hyperdrive and zoom off with the rest of the fleet to protect our secret base from this giant ball that will be attacking.

Now this is a short jump, just to get us close to the vehicle as soon as possible. All the coordinates have been input by the general's master strategic computer, so all you need to do in your x-wing is push the little button and off you go. Well the countdown is going and next I hear from Skywalker is some babble.

"Wait! What do I do? Where are we going?" Then there are some beeps and boops from his mechadroid telling him to activate his warp drives and the computer will take over from there.

Now, I have seen guys do dumb things, in my many years of flying for the Rebel cause, and I myself have taken advice from a droid, especially in a combat situation. But to have your mechadroid tell you how to fly, well, that is just SAD! I'm just sitting in my cockpit shaking my head because I know that Red Leader is going to find a way to blame this on me.

"Red six, you need to take some deep breaths. Then find the blue switch on your right side panel and turn it on."

"Uhhh...Oh yeah, there it is! Wow, it lights up!"

"Yeah, it lights up. Now just hold on, everything is already programmed into the system. When we drop out of hyper-drive, follow Red Leader, he is the second guy on your left, and I will be on your right. Got that?"

"I guess so, but I thought we were going to bomb the Death Star, not fly around like a flock of minoch."

"It'll happen sport, just be patient."

So, we zipped off into trouble. Man, this day was starting off bad and somehow I knew it wasn't going to get any better.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

I've Got Your Six...

For those of you who may not know what that means, it is a term used in combat saying I am watching your rear. This should not be confused with "I am on your six" which means I am right behind you.

Now one of the duties of a wingman is to protect the leader, or pointman, in a formation. This only works if your point-man knows what he is doing. That does not mean flying around like a idiot with a bad twitch. It is a team effort.

I bring this up because I had a flashback last night playing video games... I mean during simulator training. I was "practicing" with my friends and we were attacking this huge fire Old Empire battle cruiser, and my buddy Diablo was in front of me.

So, naturally, I told him, "I got your six" and then started watching his flanks and rear to protect him. Next thing I know, Diablo has moved, didn't say anything to me, and now I am zeroed in on by some ti-fighters.

My flashback was remembering when that new kid, Luke Skywalker showed up and was assigned to Red Team. He flew pretty well, for a kid from the outer rim, but man, the boy knew nothing of teamwork. He was just flitting around, yelling into the microphone, "Wheee, this is fuuun!"

Captain Fyunndlick, or leader that day (most leaders don't really last very long in combat), told me to stay on Skywalker's wing. Yea, and why don't I go pull a hutt's tail, while I'm at it. I mean this kid was all over the map.

"Hey, Skywalker, ease up a bit, man. You don't want to break your ship on the first day."

"Oh yeah, sorry. This is a whole lot better than the speeder I had at home. I mean, I have flown before, but nothing this nice, just some tractors and haulers. And Han, he would never let me have a turn flying his precious ship..."

I interuppted, "Roger that, red six, red four on your three." Geese, kid don't you ever stop talking?

"What? Who said that?"

"I did. I am on your right side watching your flank."

"And who are you?"

I couldn't believe this. "You are red six, and I am red three."

Thank goodness red leader jumped in. "Red three, you want to keep the chatter down?"

WHAT? Why is he telling that to ME!?! I wasn't the one doing all the talking!

There's more to this story, but I need to go so I will finish it later.

A crackle of static...

This is Rogue Squadron... checking in... Can anyone hear me? This is Red Leader... Uploading my personal log...

You know, being a 'space jockey' does have both advantages and dis-advantages. At least now, working for the New Republican Navy, I get paid better and I can get back to Corellia, my home, on a regular basis. See my folks and siblings.

Boy, I remember when I decided to join the Rebel alliance and become a pilot. My dad was so pissed at me! "No," he said, "I've saved up so you could go to the acadamy! I've worked in the shipwards all my life, and you do this to me?"

Of course back then I was young, stupid, and got drunk a lot. You know, a tyical high school student from a blue-collar planet. It was either the service, the rebels, or doing shift work building spacecraft.

The Rebel alliance didn't care that I wasn't college graduate. They would teach me to fly! Besides, one of their leaders, Princes Liea, she was pretty hot! Now that's really worth fighing for!

So, at the ripe old age of 18, I joined up, went through flight training and officer training and next thing I know I am behind the stick of an old XT-17 trainer. Many hours of simulation training and some "accidents" in the training vehicle (I told them I would pay for the damage I caused), someone noticed that I was a pretty good pilot.

Now, all this took another couple of years, mind you, but soon I was assigned to a group called Rogue Squadron. One of the generals said it was the Rebel Fodder (what ever that means) and that they had a glorious reputation. So off I went to some forsaken planet half-way accross the galaxy and landed at a 'secret' base. Let me tell you, I started having second thoughts about all this. In order to keep the base secret, I had to be transported in a cargo vessel that was also carrying food and live animals (damn Banthas!).

So I get to the base and there is this Colonel Ficus, or something. He's a Mon Calamari. I had never met one before, so I was not sure how to act.

It took me a while to understand him. With those thin lips his basic was terrible. "Waaas eooouu fafeit ghooleer?"

"I'm sorry Colonel, I didn't understand you."

"Whaas eough fafourt cooler?"

"Cooler, Coloner, did you ask if I had a cooler?"

"Shsssfiffp! Whas yeour fafort collar?"

"Ohh, what's my favorite color? Yes, I would have to say blue."

"Whuee haf no blu. Pich nother."

"OK, then red, yes."


He pressed some buttons on his console and then in walked another human (thank goodness).

"Hello, Ensign Anitllies, I am Captain Richards, Red Leader. Welcome to Rogue Squadron."

And that is how I got into the famous (well, now at least) Red Wing of Rogue Squadron.

Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.