Old Flames Still Burn

[Mischa Margolin]

The events in this thread take place approximately 12 years from the current timeline. Between the hours of…just kidding.


“Morning, Vac.” Mischa Margolin heard the familiar voice of her fellow flight instructor from across the room as she stood at the caf machine, stirring creamer into her first cup of the day.

“Good morning, Corran. Looks like we’re going to need plenty of this today.” The petite redhead replied, passing the man a cup of his own as he walked up to her and glancing over the training roster for the newest class of recruits to the New Republic Starfighter Command Academy. “Is just me, or do these cadets seem to be getting younger and younger every year?”

Commander Corran Antilles thanked her and took the mug of caf from Mischa’s hand, sipping from it before he answered with laugh, “I think it’s just that we’re getting older and older.”

“Speak for yourself, Skippy. There’s plenty of life left in this old bird.” Captain Margolin replied with a smirk over the edge of her cup, making the tall dark-haired man laugh again.

“I don’t doubt that for one moment. Speaking of old birds.” Corran said as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. “This was sent over addressed to you.” Mischa took the rectangular piece of heavy cream-colored flimsicard with the seal of Starfighter Command in raised golden ink from his hand, curious about his remark.

“Well I’ll be damned.” She finally said after reading the words imprinted on the formal stationery. “They’re finally retiring the old girl.”

“Are you talking about the Admiral or the ship?” Corran asked teasingly, unable to resist the obvious joke.

Mischa gave the man a playful swat on the arm. “I guess the answer is both. And I have been invited to the decommissioning slash retirement ceremony for the Second Chance and for Admiral Nerys. Wonderful.” The last word was uttered in a tone that made Corran look at her sharply.

“Mischa you know you can’t avoid this forever. How long has it been since last time you talked to him?”

Surprised and saddened by the fact that she had to think about it for a moment, Mischa finally said. “Gods, Corran. I honestly can’t even say exactly. About two years after I’d left the Womprats for a command of my own. I just know it wasn’t that long after Stone was killed during that mission. Tariq and I had that huge argument…and we haven’t had any contact with each other since. I said some really terrible things to him that day. Even if I’d tried to get in touch with him again, I doubt he’d have a damn thing to say to me.” She sighed sadly, gazing out of the window of the office they’d shared for nearly three years now. “Well other than to tell me to frak off. Not that I can blame him.”

Corran walked over and stood next to the woman he come to know as not only a fellow Academy instructor but as a good friend and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “From what you’ve told me about how close the two of you were at one time, I really doubt he’d act that way toward you Misch. Just go to the ceremony, be civil and see your old friends. It would be a shame for you to miss it and I’m sure Admiral Nerys would be happy to see you at least. Don’t make me pull rank and order you to go.” He grinned.

Mischa had to smile at that and at the memories, even the bad ones, which flooded through her mind. “With what our damned squadron put her through, I’m surprised that woman didn’t retire years ago.” Vac said.

“Okay I’ll go. I suppose I can just keep my distance from Leto while I’m there. Hells I’ve been doing it quite well for the last few years haven’t I?”

“Good. And it’s not like you have to stay there. It’s just for the ceremonies and then you get to come back here and help me make damn good pilots out of this latest group of children. Vac and Skippy, the scourge of Starfighter Command’s Cadet Squadrons.” Antilles said with that lopsided grin that set the hearts of nearly every female cadet in every class he’d taught aflutter. But Mischa had her mind on the smile she used to see on another man, a grin that lit up eyes so blue they rivaled the clearest sky itself as she excused herself from their office to head to the Commandant of the Academy’s to request leave to head to the Second Chance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

”The old girl’s a little worse for wear, but she still looks good. Captain Mischa Margolin thought to herself as she looked out of the window at the sleek, but well used warship the transport was approaching. It had been over 10 years since she’d last set foot on the decking of the ship’s hangar. So many changes had taken place during that time. Ranks and positions had changed, old friends had been lost and new ones gained, many things were different, but some things remained the same. The biggest of them being how she still felt about the man who at one time had been the greatest love of Mischa’s life.

He’d been the Captain of her squadron of fellow screw-ups and was now a respected Commander in charge of the entire air group assigned to the Second Chance from what she’d heard through the grapevine. She’d felt so much pride upon first hearing it, and had almost broken down and sent him a holotransmission of congratulations. But as always, her damnable stubborn streak as well as her worry at how he’d take the message after they’d been out of touch after that regrettable blow up had stopped her.

“Goddess, frakkin hard-headed, stubborn woman. Some things never change.” She thought angrily running one hand through the mass of coppery curls that were now laced with a few random strands of silver. Her face hadn’t changed much, other than the few fine lines around her eyes and between them that she’d blamed on worrying over her pilot-wannabe charges. She’d changed into her dress uniform, pinning every award medal in place before twisting her hair back into some semblance of style befitting protocol for such an event then waited out the time for the shuttle to land. Try as she might she couldn’t control the nervous fluttering in her stomach that was growing more annoyingly pronounced by the minute

[Leto Tariq]

There was a time, Leto remembered, when he was still Captain of the Womprats that he used to believe he would be permanently buried under the mountain of paperwork that came with the job. He realized back then he had no idea how much worse it could actually get. Now that he was the CAG of the Second Chance, it felt like his free time was being sucked into a black hole of reports, the occasional CAP, and every minor detail that seemed to require his attention. This time he didn’t even have time to change out of his flight suit before delving into the sea of folders.

Leto glanced up from his cup of caf - the only thing that kept him from passing out some days – at the chrono lying atop his desk. He sighed, placed what he was working on back at the top of the pile of papers on his desk and sat waiting. Any moment now.

He imagined he heard a muffled clang from somewhere in the ship, and then various alarms began going off.

“Oh, frell.”


“That’s the fifth landing in a row he’s managed to slag!” Leto said in his rush down a flight of stairs. A pair of feet were clattering behind him.

“They don’t call him Wrecker for nothing,” Maguire ended with a grunt as a skipped the last three steps altogether and jumped to the deck, falling into stride with Leto.

“You have to give him some credit. At least he’s punctual.”

“I’d rather he was late with every landing if it meant the deck chief would stop riding my ass for getting one of his planes scrapped.”

The scene that awaited them when they reached the hangar was a mess. The deck crew had managed to drag the heavily dented and cracked remains of Wrecker’s fighter into the hangar bay. Maguire wasted barely a moment to climb up and get the canopy open. He pulled zabrak from the cockpit, Leto grabbing his feet as they helped the pilot onto a stretcher. The being groaned, blinking at Maguire.

“Cap’n?” he managed softly like he wasn’t entirely sure where he was.

“You crashed again,” Maguire explained. The zabrak groaned.

“That explains the head.”

“You going to be okay?” The zabrak nodded and Maguire’s face turned much more serious. “Good, because I want you in healthy condition when I take you off flight status.”

Wrecker blinked. “But I didn’t do anything!”

It was Leto’s turn to glare. “You’ve wrecked five fighters in little more than a week. You’re frakking lucky you’re even still alive.”

“Until I can be sure you can step into an X-wing without turning charred line on the side of the ship, you’re going to be on simulators from now on.” Wrecker was dragged off to medical before any protests could be made.

In ten years, many things had changed but it was comforting to know the ‘Rats had remained the same. The fleet still sent them the screw ups, the ones who only had one chance left. The short-tempered, the ones who made the wrong mistake at the wrong time and, sometimes, the clearly inept. Either they improved in the ‘Rats, or they died in the ‘Rats.

He missed those days when he was in command of the most infamous squadron in the fleet. More importantly, Leto missed his fellow squadron mates, his family of frak ups and pilots. Missed the arguments, the laughing, the card games.

Missed sparring in the morning, missed being reminded both verbally and physically not to be such a tightass, missed sneaking into a supply closet…

“Ten credits,” Leto said, trying to stop his mind going down a very different path. “Ten credits says he makes it on his sixth.”

“Make it fifteen and you have a deal.”

Leto nodded and began heading back to his office when he noticed the chief making his way towards Maguire. “I’d better get back to those reports.”

“Lucky,” Maguire winced as the deck chief began his tirade. Leto shook his head and couldn’t help a small laugh.

There were some things he didn’t miss.


Several hours later, Leto found himself back in the hangar as one of the mechanics explained the damage to the various fighter craft and what planes could be fixed and what would have to be scrapped for parts. Wrecker’s efforts had contributed more to the latter than Leto liked.

Not that it really mattered. The only thing these ships would be used for were the occasional patrol and upcoming decommissioning ceremony. After that, the ones that were deemed still fit for use would be reassigned throughout the fleet while the others would meet an unfortunate end.

“Canopy is cracked, landing gear and repulsorlift are slagged. But, a little work, we can get her back up in the air.”

“Good,” Leto smiled, then pointed to the E-wing wreck sitting next to it. “What about that one?”

The mechanic shook his head. “Don’t even bother. That one is done.”

Leto’s smile turned into a grimace. The war with the Empire may have been all but over, what Imperial stragglers remained too busy looking for a ruler to compare themselves with, but that didn’t mean being a plane down was any better. There would always be a situation in the future when they’d suddenly need it.

Leto sighed and followed the mechanic to the next set of wreckage.

And froze in his steps.

“Frak,” Leto murmured.

“What, sir?”

Leto, you idiot, of course she would be here. It’s the frakking decommissioning.

“Sir?”

He could apologize. Frak, he could at least say hello. All it would take was a few steps.

A few steps, Leto decided, that might as well have been across the whole galaxy.

“Sir?” the mechanic tried again.

“Nothing,” Leto said while he mentally yelled at himself. “It’s nothing at all.”

[Mischa Margolin]

The landing had been a smooth one, much to Mischa’s relief. She didn’t think her stomach could handle a bumpy ride at the moment and when she walked down the boarding ramp a flood of memories going back to the first time she’d stepped off a shuttle in this same hangar deck so long ago. Only thing missing was a tall, broad-shouldered scary as hell looking pilot with a heart of gold standing next to her protectively, with that one eyebrow raised in the closest thing to a smile anyone else got to see.

“Godsdammit Stone, am I ever going to stop hurting over what happened to you?” She knew he wouldn’t be happy about the events that took place after his death. The way she let her sorrow and anger fracture the relationship she’d manage to still hold onto in spite of her promotion and transfer. The same promotion and transfer he insisted she take even though it meant being separated not only from the man she loved, but from her best friend for the first time since right she’s joined the then newborn New Republic Starfighter Command. She carried so much guilt still over him dying on that mission. If she’d only stayed aboard the Second Chance, stayed with the ‘Rats, stayed on his wing.

But she’d been away, seconding command and then leading a squadron of her own. Out of her own guilt and pain, she’d lashed out and blamed Leto for Stone not making it back in and the bitter words they’d exchanged over the holotransmitters still twisted inside her all these years later. “Frak you and your temper, Margolin. It never did stop getting you into the worst kind of trouble.”

Coming back to the present, Vac looked around the hangar, noticing more unfamiliar faces than known ones among the crew scattered across the deck. Some working on ships. Some doing maintenance on machines. One conferring with a short, dark-haired man in a flightsuit worn casually unzipped down his chest. Mischa peered at the duo, trying to place the familiar face and when he turned toward her for a brief moment she saw him better and smiled as she recognized him.

Again memories came back unbidden. This time of a shy, nervous, and utterly self-conscious kid whining and arguing how he didn’t think it was a good idea to smuggle booze back to the carrier while several senior pilots berated him and the young twi’lek rookie with him. “Gods we were brutal” Vac thought with a pang of remorse at the horrid way they used to haze the newbs back then.

Maguire Taliba, turned back toward the direction of the shuttle as he continued talking to the deck crew member, pointing out and giving instructions to him in a manner that spoke of confidence as did his bearing in the way he walked as he and the specialist came closer to the transport. Watching him silently Mischa grinned inwardly at the obvious changes that had come over the young man since the first time they met. They were a couple yards away when he finally caught sight of Margolin standing there and nudged the crewman before they both snapped off perfect salutes which Vac returned, breaking into a smile at the end.

“At ease, Maggie.” She grinned as Maguire dismissed the SFC and closed the remaining distance between them. “Captain Taliba.” Mischa said, looking at the rank insignia, before embracing the younger pilot and still grinning. “Look at you. Crazy enough to keep you around and in charge of the best worst squadron in the fleet, did they?”

“I hear you’re doing a fine job terrorizing the poor cadets at the Academy these days.” Taliba said with a grin that only made him look just as boyish as when he’d first been assigned to the ‘Rats.

“Hey, I do have a reputation to uphold and besides it’s only my way of starting them off right.” Misha replied, only half joking. “You used to scare the hell out of me Vac.” Maggie said, slipping into calling her by her callsign as if it had only been a few hours since they’d last seen each other. She’d always liked the kid and once he’d gotten over his fear of the loud, smack-talking woman they ended up being friends. Hells by the time she transferred from the ‘Rats she felt like he was more a little brother than an annoying nugget who wasn’t expected to stay off the casualty list for too long. “If those cadets only knew what a softie you really could be…” He said with a sly grin. “I’m not averse to blackmail to keep your secret safe from them you know. Say…getting together to have a drink with your old pals later?”

Misha couldn’t help but be amazed at the changes in him yet again and smiled. “If that’s all it takes. Although I’m not sure if your CAG will be so thrilled with the idea.”

Captain Maguire took on a more serious tone as he looked at Misch, “He’ll be happy to see you, Vac. Honestly, you both need to let this go. I used to hear the stories from the others. Spice, Legs, Stone…hells even the Admiral herself about how damned stubborn you two could be with each other. I’d have thought that would have changed after all this time.” He finished, shaking his head as his comm badge went off telling him to report to his office. “I’ve got to go, you know how it is even with the old girl being put out to pasture. Seriously, Misha. Just talk him, okay? Before we have to lock you two in a supply closet somewhere…or the brig.” He added with a wink before heading across the hangar with a final wave.

Mischa watched him go, still marveling at his confidence in himself, before she thought it would be a good idea to go seek out someone to tell her where she’d be staying while aboard the carrier. “Frak you’d think they’d send someone to tell me these things. Maybe this is Tariq’s way of un-welcoming me back aboard.” She thought, then scolded herself for carrying on that line of thinking. “Probably just forgot about it with so much else going on. Go find your own way, girl.” She picked up one small carry-on bag and headed for the Yeoman’s office unaware of the bright blue eyes watching her as she walked out of the door.

[Leto Tariq]

At first, grabbing a quick shower in the refresher had seemed like a good plan. It was a few minutes to relax and gather his thoughts. Plus, he smelled like he’d only just come off a patrol. When the only other choice was sitting in his office, smelling like he’d been wrestling banthas all day, some time in the refresher sounded like a very good idea.

Only instead of relaxing like he had intended, the moment the water hit him his mind had wandered off and betrayed him, teasing him with images and reminders of the Lieutenant who pushed his buttons back in the ‘Rats, of the Captain standing in the hangar bay earlier. Leto groaned, switched the water to cold and did his very best to think of mission reports and flight briefings instead. He found that as hard to do now as it was back in the ‘Rats.

He didn’t think it could get any worse when he switched the water off, until he opened his locker and found nothing more than a small towel barely large enough to do the job.

“You’ve gotta be frakking kidding me,” he grumbled, wrapping it around his waist and heading out into the corridor. The public refresher wasn’t that far away, he could grab a larger one there. The door hissed open and Leto marched out of the doorway and right into Captain Mischa Margolin.

Leto’s breath caught and his eyes widened. Wearing nothing more than the smallest towel on the entire ship wasn’t quite how he imagined himself during their first meeting in years.

Never while he was awake, anyway.

“Hey Mi-... Captain Margolin.” Leto quickly corrected.

The surprise and even amusement disappeared from Mischa’s face, her eyes narrowing. “Commander Tariq.”

Leto winced; already he was managing to frak things up. “You look… well.”

Frakking idiot.

“Thank you. You’re… not so bad yourself, sir.”

They drifted off into silence. Any moment now, Leto expected one of them to start kicking their feet and staring at the floor. Almost a lifetime since he had last seen her, and the only thing he could say was “You look well.”

He could see where the years had changed her, added a little grey to her red hair, a wrinkle here and there. But she was still the same hot-headed pilot stepping off her shuttle, transferred to the squadron after striking a fellow officer.

“It’s been a while,” Mischa finally said.

“Five years,” Leto nodded. “A very long time.”

“I see you haven’t changed much,” she stared pointedly at his towel.

Leto blushed, “It was the only one left in my locker.”

“I hope you know I had nothing to do with it.”

“Didn’t think so,” Leto grinned and realised how much he missed this. “You haven’t been on the ship long enough.”

Mischa laughed, and Leto definitely knew how much he missed that.

“I didn’t think I’d see you on this ship again.”

Mischa smiled and patted one of the corridor walls, “Didn’t want to miss saying good-bye to the old girl.”

“Never stopped you from avoiding her for five years,” Leto pointed out and mentally groaned. It seemed his mouth still bypassed his brain no matter how many years it had been. Mischa’s smile disappeared and her back straightened.

“Never had a reason to visit,” she said flatly.

Leto glared, “Right. Better things to do.”

“Yep.” Mischa’s face was impassive, not even bothering to return his glare. That hurt more than her trying to drill a hole through his skull with her eyes.

“Well, I have reports to finish. It’s been good seeing you, Captain.”

“Likewise, Commander.” Leto grunted and stalked back into his quarters, brushing past her shoulder roughly. Suddenly a larger towel wasn't a concern anymore.

Some things never do change.

[Mischa Margolin]

It wasn’t exactly the way she wanted to run into him again. And of all the ways it could have gone, Mischa had hoped for better. Not awkward, angry words exchanged in a corridor. The conversation ending almost as badly as the last one they’d had years before. Too many years before. Goddess how did they still manage to hurt each other after all this time?

For a brief second there he’d started to say her name in greeting as if nothing had ever happened. As if they’d never been separated by time and ugly words. And then the curtain dropped again. She grown a bit hopeful again as they fell back into the old bantering back and forth. He’d even gotten her to laugh as he used to all the time like no one other than Stone had ever done. And Mischa had reveled in the grin she received in return. The glow in those gorgeous blue eyes that could undo her control in a heartbeat back then. Hadn’t changed much there either.

Then he had to go and open his mouth as always. That mouth she used to teasingly refer to as a dangerous weapon for other reasons. Different than the way he was using it to hurt her with it now. And as always, in reaction up came those damned walls of hers as well. Shutting him out and the pain she was feeling at the whole exchange along with it. Couple of damn fools. Proud, stubborn, frakking fools.

She walked away down the corridor without a single glance back. In the old days, before she’d left the ‘Rats, before the big blow up, she would have shoved back, following him into his quarters to continue the fight to whatever the conclusion. More likely than not it would have involved them both ending up with little if anything on and too worn out from other activities to fight anymore.

But that was then. Now all she could do was walk away, fighting against the urge to turn and run back to Leto’s quarters that threatened to overwhelm her for a moment. Mischa stood there in the middle of the corridor, digging her nails into her palms. The physical pain nowhere near the mental anguish she was putting herself through with this line of thinking. Too much time had passed with nothing said between them, and what had been said before the mutual silence had been horrific at best.

He’d made it clear a few moments ago that he still was angry, and still hadn’t let anything go and she hadn’t done much to make the situation any better. Best to just avoid each other for the duration of her visit and leave things as they had been for the last four years, 316 days, 14 hours and however many minutes it was now.

“Godsdammit I need to find a drink on this crate.” Mischa muttered as she walked away from Leto’s quarters. A fresh stab of nearly physical pain invoked by far too many memories bringing tears to her eyes and making her almost regret deciding to make the trip after all as she wandered almost aimlessly through the ship she used to call her home.

[Leto Tariq]

That went well, Leto grimaced and began searching his locker for his uniform. Five years and he still had the ability to frak things up. It made sense that he would still be able to, it was the one thing he was always good at. After all, you couldn’t lead the fleet’s biggest frak-up of a squadron without being able to screw up yourself. It was practically a requirement, even more so than being able to fly capably.

He collapsed at the small desk he’d had in his quarters since his days in the Womprats and began working on the flight rotations for the next few days. Now that Wrecker was off flight status, the whole thing had to be worked around so that there was someone flying his combat patrols.

When he noticed that he’d put Maggie down for three straight rotations, he cursed and realized that this wasn’t as good a distraction as he thought it would be. Leto sighed and fell back against his chair.

After she left, he’d waited for a long time for her to come back. They’d had their fights before, but they always went back to each other, no matter how bad the fight was. But when Mischa didn’t come back, didn’t even send him a hologram, Leto began to realize how stupid he was for thinking she would forgive him. Stone was too important to her. She wasn’t coming back.

He had tried to move on, after that. Gods, he had tried. Some nameless woman during shore leave, some deckhand, one of the pilots from the other squadrons. It was odd that he found it so hard to break the regs with Mischa but had found it so easy with others.

But then things were always complicated with her. Unlike with Mischa, he never went past the physical release with anyone else. Maybe it was because some part of him still thought she would come back. It was the same part that checked on her when he could, the same part that wrote her the letter of congratulations when he heard about her new position as a flight instructor but never sent it. It was the same part that yelled at him every day to stop being so frakking stubborn and just talk to her.

Mischa had taken control of his heart, and he accepted that nothing was going to change that.

Leto began focusing on his work instead after that. It was a good distraction and kept him busy. Of course it only made him seem more of a tightass, to the point that Cayenne had made a request to the Admiral that she order Leto to take a colonoscopy for “whatever it is that’s shoved up his ass.” Nerys made him the CAG instead.

The hatch hissed open. “Commander Tariq?” Maguire poked his head in.

“What is it, Maggie? I’m a little busy,” he pretended to start working on the flight rotations again.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to join the old squadron for a few drinks, sir.”

“I’m a little busy,” Leto said again, holding up a few papers as proof. Maguire rolled his eyes.

“Those can wait until later. We’ve only got a few days left on this bird,” Maguire grinned. “Besides, the rookies worked so hard smuggling some bottles aboard.”

Leto looked at the current Captain of the ‘Rats in surprise. “You’re kidding.”

Maguire shrugged, “If it worked once before, might as well do it again.”

Leto laughed. “Fine, fine,” he threw the papers back on his desk. “But just a few drinks.”

Maguire nodded and saluted, leaving the quarters. Leto shook his head and left his desk. Might as well get it over with.

[Mischa Margolin]

Knowing that there was no way in the nine hells she was going to be able to just lie down and sleep, regardless of the approaching late hour after that conversation with Leto, Mischa instead went in search of whatever passed for a recreation area aboard the Second Chance these days. The sound of raucous laughter drifting down the corridor brought back more and more memories the closer she got to the Womprats’ ready room. Memories that left her torn between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh uproariously at the images and people they brought to mind. Mischa almost turned around and headed back to her assigned quarters, but the more extroverted part of her, and the part that really needed a drink won out in the end.


The sounds of music from a portable player providing the low volume backdrop to the voices of pilots engaged in a very lively game of Sabaac, mingled with laughter from others scattered throughout the place led her to the doorway. Mildly surprised at how damn nervous she felt the closer she got, Vac wondered how those members of her former squadron she hadn’t run across yet would react to her presence there for the first time in ages. Not that she’d parted on bad terms with any of them as she had with Leto, but he was still their commanding officer and hell even a friend in a way to most of them. So their loyalty, should things turn ugly while she was aboard the ship, would be with his side of things. Kicking those thoughts out of her head, Mischa peeked into the room to see a mix of faces, a very few familiar and the many unknown relaxing and enjoying some well-earned downtime.

A flame-haired woman, the first person she made eye contact with had just let out a peal of riotous laughter at something the tall, broad-shouldered man across the table from her said before noticing a long-unseen face paused in the entryway to the room and gave a nod of her head accompanied by her trademark go to hell grin that made the big man turn around to see what the female pilot was smiling at. He gave a roll of his eyes and mock groan before getting to his feet and replacing it with a laugh. “Well would you look what the nexxu dragged in.” Cayenne Rudal called across the room, that same friendly grin still on her face erasing any doubts Mischa had about her former squadron mates’ feelings about her being there. “The nine hells must have frakkin frozen over.” Adok Borys added in the deep, grumbling voice that went so well with that imposing stature of his, but the merriment was readily apparent too as Margolin returned Cay’s grin before being enveloped in a crushing hug by Dock.

“Gods it’s good to see you two.” Mischa said after returning Adok’s gesture with a less forceful one of her own and then doing the same to Spice. She’d not realized exactly how much she had missed them all until seeing the pilots again for the first time in far too many years. “Sit.” Cay told her pointing to an open chair at the table next to her, as Dock slid a glass and bottle in front of her adding. “Drink.”

“As if you’d have to tell me twice.” Vac replied with a wink and remembering one night in particular at a dive on Borleais when she’d gone drinking with the tall pilot and he’d left her behind in the midst of a barfight she’d started and then covered his own ass about being involved in it. She had been furious with Dock for the longest time after that, more so because he’d gotten away with it than anything. But they’d become friends again over time. Hell she even had to thank the man since if not for the incidents of the rest of that night and the following morning, who knows when she and Leto might never have…ah frak. There she went thinking about him again.

Pouring a shot of the smuggled booze into the glass in front of her, Mischa knocked it back quickly before setting it down on the table before her and gave a shudder. “Whoa! Still getting the rooks to sneak in the good stuff I see.” She grinned before pouring another round into each of their glasses.

“So. What have two members of Starfighter Command’s finest squadron been up to since last I saw you?” She asked the two of them, taking a slower sip from her drink this time and savoring the smoky taste of Corellia’s best.

“Well, the big guy here is still with the ‘Rats. Whether they want him or not.” Cay said with a wink.

“As if I’d give up any opportunity I had to rebel against authority and get paid for it.” Adok replied with wink before draining the contents of his glass. “Besides someone has to help keep the ne’er do wells, nuggets, and potential washouts in line since Tariq’s too busy running the whole damn show.”

He gave a startled yelp as Cayenne’s foot connected with his shin beneath the table and he gave the redhead a glare that she pointedly ignored. “As for myself, I’m still here on the ‘Chance, but with Phoenix Squadron. “

“With the squadron my ass. She’s running it.” Borys broke in “And doing a damn fine job I might add. And Legs is her XO. Hell of a team those two.”

Mischa grinned at Cay in pleased surprise. “Your squadron’s gotten a lot of good attention back at Command. A few of my cadets are fighting over whatever slots become available. And then there are those who I see heading your way, Dock” she gave a slight fond shake of her head at the thought of her trainees back on Coruscant and hoped Corran was fairing okay with dealing with some of the tougher cases, the types she usually had to crack into shape, during her absence.

“Well, good or bad, we’d love to have them with us. Wherever we all end up.” Spice added a bit more somberly, looking down at her glass. It was going to be a big change for everyone aboard the carrier once the ship had been decommissioned. Old friends who’d served together long and faithfully being scattered randomly across the Fleet, but at least there would be a little time to spend together before that time came.

“So, Vac?” Cay’s morose look changed to a slow, mischievous grin after a few awkward moments of silence as she regarded, Mischa. “Who else have you run into since you’ve come aboard?”

Yeah, I’m sure Tariq’s dying to see you.” Dock added with a wink.

“Actually. I’ve run into him already.” Vac replied flatly.

Adok and Cay exchanged a glance and almost in unison asked, “And?”

Mischa took another swallow of the whisky in her glass before replying. “Let’s just say it went about as well as I’d have expected.”

“That bad, huh?” Spice said with a wincing expression on her pretty face.

“Yeah. But I did see Maggie too.” Vac said with a smile that conveyed the fondness she had for the current Womprats CO. Still finding it hard to reconcile the image of the nervous twitchy kid she remembered. Now with that confident face superimposed over the boyish one from the past. “How’s he handling being in charge of you miscreants”? She asked Dock with a grin.

“He’s doing a good job actually” Borys answered in a thoughtful voice “That command crap and the headaches that go with it isn’t for me, but he’s been a good leader. Nearly as good as Orion was at dealing with all the poodoo that we tend to get dealt with. And having Red as his XO hasn’t hurt a bit either.”

Margolin smiled at the idea of so many of her favorite pilots still flying together, watching each other’s back out in the black. That most had chosen to stay aboard the Second Chance as comrades in arms made her feel good, while at the same time making her feel even more regretful about her decision to leave the carrier, the squadron, her only real family. And even worse for foolishly staying away as long as she did and for such stupid reasons as her own pride and stubbornness…and pain. If Stone had still been alive he would have kicked her in the pants for acting the way she’d been all this time.

“If you want really know though.” Cay said, looking past her shoulder, “you can ask the man himself now.” Mischa turned to give Captain Taliba a greeting, but it faltered behind her lips when her eyes locked with those of the man who was with him.

[Leto Tariq]

Leto fell in beside Maguire outside of his quarters. “How’s Wrecker doing?”

Maguire rolled his eyes, “You know, the whole point of this is to relax.”

“And knowing how my pilots are doing is relaxing.”

“He’s done three runs in the simulators today. Still can’t make a landing worth a damn.”

Leto sighed, “If this ship wasn’t being decommissioned, he’d have been vaped by some Imp by now.”

“Even the ‘Rats get lucky sometimes.”

“Don’t I know it,” Leto smirked. As they made a left out of one of the corridors, it was becoming clear to Leto where they were headed. “I guess the ‘Rats are having another briefing?”

Maguire smiled, “You know how important those are.”

“Some things never change,” Leto grinned. “Command never did try to find out what those ‘briefings’ actually were.”

“Because they knew if they tried anything, we’d mutiny.”

Leto laughed. “You’re probably right.”

They stopped at the Womprats’ ready room, and Leto could hear the laughter and noise inside coming through the hatch. Maguire paused to enter his passkey, before the hatch hissed open. What Leto saw was a scene he had become very familiar with over the years. Various pilots were scattered about, some still in their flight suits, either trading credits or whatever cigars and alcohol they had in a game of Sabaac, or gathered together over a couple of glasses. Occasionally one of the rookies was forced to get up whenever they needed a new bottle.

And right in the centre of it all was the woman who, as much as he hated to admit it, could still make him stop in his steps, even after five years absence.

Of course she would be here. Flight instructor or not, she was still a Womprat, and there was a part of him that was overjoyed to see that hadn’t changed. The squadron had a way of imprinting itself onto its pilots; whether they moved on to other squadrons or became CAGs or became flight instructors, they would always be a Womprat. Nothing could change that. The rest of him, though, was disappointed in the knowledge that that was the only reason she was here.

Surely enough, Mischa’s was the table Maguire went for. There was no way he was going to be able to avoid her… even though he secretly knew he didn’t want to.

“Hey Misch,” he said as he took an empty seat, and almost winced when he realized he’d slipped on the rank.

“Tight-ass on deck,” Cay said while Adok poured him and Maguire a glass.

“Funny,” he said before throwing back the drink. He swallowed and stared down at the glass in his hand. “Corellian? Where did you get this?”

“Rooks are getting better,” Adok answered.

“You threatened them, didn’t you,” he accused.

“Just a little threat of duty in the mess if they didn’t find anything good,” Maguire admitted.

Leto laughed, “Well whatever it takes to get something better than agaric ale.” He grabbed the bottle from the table and refilled his glass.

“Agaric ale?” Mischa asked, detecting there was a story behind it.

“One of the rookies was a little lazy with his hazing and bought a few bottles of it from a couple of neimodians,” Maguire explained. “We call him Retch now.”

Leto sipped from his drink. “How is Retch, anyway?” A pilot ran by, carrying a bottle and wearing a floral shower cap. “Oh. I see you haven’t let up about that.”

Maguire shook his head, “Nope. Besides, you would have done the same to me if I had smuggled Borleias’s worst ale onto the ship.”

Mischa smirked, “No, if it was us, the shower cap would be all you be wearing.” The other four veterans laughed.

“Don’t blame me,” Adok said.

“Goddess, how many times have you said that?” Mischa joked and Adok made a point of ignoring her.

“I tried to convince him to go the naked route, but Captain wouldn’t have it.”

“We have to at least appear professional.” Maguire shrugged. “Besides, it would ruin the effect of replacing his uniform with a bath robe.”

“Bath robe? Where the frell did you get a bath robe?” Leto asked over his drink.

“It belonged to my mother. I figured it may come in handy.”

“You really have turned into a Womprat,” Mischa laughed.

“As if anyone who joins this squadron can avoid it,” Leto grinned.

“So what’s it like commanding this group of miscreants, Maggie?”

“It’s a pain in the ass,” he said simply. “But you get used to it, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Well… maybe if I could get rid of some of that paperwork.”

Leto shook his head, “That paperwork is important. I had to work through that for years, and this is my little revenge seeing someone else having to do it.”

It was one benefit, actually, of his promotion. Someone else was stuck with the paperwork that came from running the ‘Rats. Unfortunately, the trade-off was that he had almost twice the amount as CAG.

Maguire took a swallow from his glass before pouring another round. “When was the last time we had Corellian ale, anyway?”

Leto took a sip from his while he thought for a second. “I don’t think had any since,” he trailed off as he suddenly remembered. “Since Stone’s funeral,” he finished. He threw back his drink in one swallow as the memory hit. The others realized too, because their table had suddenly fallen silent. The noise from the other pilots in the room suddenly felt like an intrusion.

He looked up from the table and the hurt he saw in Mischa’s eyes as she remember the man who had been her friend and brother long before she had even told Leto she loved him tore open a wound that still hadn’t quite scarred. It was a reminder of all the ‘Rats that had died under his command over the years, and a reminder that no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t protect the people he cared most about.

Leto reached across the table and poured another drink, but instead of lifting it to his lips he raised it to the middle of the table. “To Dethrider. Wherever it is you’re flying.”

Mischa paused for a second, then lifted her glass next to his. “To my brother. I really miss you, big guy.”

Maguire added his own drink, and then Cayenne. “To Stone. The best damn E-wing pilot in the Republic.”

“To Jon’son,” Adok smiled weakly, “one of these days I’ll pay back those sabaac credits I owe you.”

They laughed; not the same as they had before, but as a group of people remembering an old friend. Leto swallowed the drink and the rest followed. “For Jon’son.” Five glasses went back down to the table. The hurt was still there, but it had lost its edge. The sat in silence for a few minutes longer when Maguire suddenly let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Leto asked.

Maguire shrugged. “Just remembering. I was in a card game once.”

“Really? Imagine that.” Mischa smirked.

“Amazing. Maggie’s played a game of sabaac,” Leto sniffed and wiped away a fake tear. “Our little pilot’s growing up.”

Maguire took a moment to glare at them both before continuing his story, “It was with one of Coruscant’s local squadrons. Tight-shouldered, nose up in the air.”

Adok nodded and added, “Say ‘sir’ more often than a slow-witted butler.”

“Right. And then I win the hand, but as I’m reaching to grab the credits I had won, one of them grabs my arm and starts suggesting that I wasn’t playing as fairly as I was supposed to be. Stone sees it, and he comes up behind me and just raises that eyebrow. I guess it wasn’t as bad a problem as they thought it was, because suddenly they didn’t care as much anymore.”

Cayenne smirked, “That was intelligent of them.”

“Reminds me of that time we were aboard the Abregado,” Adok said. “I don’t think that marine has been hit harder in his life.”

Leto nodded as the memory of their time aboard the small cruiser came to mind. “If he was smart, he’d avoid the dejarik boards to make sure that never happens again.”

Adok shook his head, “Some people just can’t handle their drink. Makes them do stupid things.”

“Like get their face punched in for picking a fight with a Womprat. It was too bad, because he flew into my table. I was about to win a good bit of credits.”

“You?” Mischa glanced at him and smiled, something he had been hoping for since she stepped aboard. “Win a sabaac game? Or any card game for that matter.”

“I’ve won games before,” Leto defended.

“Yeah, but no more than you can count on one hand.”

“Speaking of not handling your drink, I’m out.” Cayenne said as she rose from the table. The others started objecting but she shook her head. “I’ve got a patrol and a briefing in the morning. The troubles of being a squadron leader.” The others relented, and Cay went past them and through the hatch.

“Anyone remember Commander Risgana?” Adok asked after another round of drinks.

Leto groaned. “Gods, how could we forget. His back was so straight that it would have broken if he ever bent over.”

Maguire took a long swallow from his glass and then tried to make what was supposed to be a stern look. “Now you, you lot, I have never seen, never in my life, such a worse bunch of pilots as you.”

“Yet he couldn’t even keep his own crew under control,” Adok said and a few of them winced at the memory. “Didn’t turn out so bad in the end, though.”

Mischa nodded, “We’ve had worse.”

“Much worse.”

There was a sudden crash in the room, and they turned their heads to see one of the other Womprats and drunkenly stumbled over his chair getting up. He stood back up, waved at them lazily and stumbled through the hatchway.

Leto glanced at the empty bottles that were starting to collect, “I think the rookies may have grabbed too many.”

Adok took one last swallow from his drink and got up from his seat. “He owes me some credits,” he explained, nodding in the direction of the pilot who had just left. The rest didn’t even bother stopping him. A few pilots followed him out.

“Where’s Captain Dervis?” Mischa asked. “I haven’t seen his old ass aboard this ship since I arrived here.”

“He retired,” Leto answered. “Three years ago. I think he settled on Naboo after that.”

“Good for him,” Mischa smiled. “Shame we’re not going to have him getting on our backs for consuming too much alcohol.”

“We’ll certainly miss it.”

Maguire yawned. “I think I’d better retire, too.”

“I need your report on...” Leto began.

“I know, I know,” Maguire interrupted. “You’ll have it tomorrow.”

“I’d better,” Leto said and Maguire took his own exit. What pilots were left took that as their cue to leave, and stumbled out the hatch.

“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Mischa observed.

“Decommissioning is only in a few days, so they want to appear at their best,” Leto explained. They both paused a moment and then glanced at the various bottles scattered about. “Best for a ‘Rat, anyway.”

Mischa laughed and began to stand. “I’d better be getting to my bunk, then.”

There was a sudden sense of peril, and Leto quickly reached out and grabbed her hand as she started to leave. She glanced down at her hand and raised her eyebrow at him. “I…” he began, and licked at his lips. “I didn’t say it before, but… I’m glad you came back. I missed you.”

She stared at him for a time, and he started to doubt if he should have said anything at all. But then she smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve walked the corridors of this ship. I wonder if it’s still the same as it used to be.”

Leto grinned, “We can do that.”

[Mischa Margolin]

The rounds of quality booze were a nice thing, but being in the company of good, long-missed friends was even more intoxicating to Mischa. Especially after Maguire showed up with Leto in tow. Goddess, how fair was it that the man still had the same effect on her after all these years?

Seeing them all like this, together and enjoying each other’s company like in the old days brought back so many memories, the bitter and the sweet. Glancing around the room as they shared stories of the squadron over the years, Vac could almost sense the presence of those they had lost right there in the room with them. All watching and laughing along silently, but her rational mind (what was left of it at the moment) decided that was likely just a combination of the high-test alcohol and wishful thinking on her part. Still, it was a nice image to have come to mind and kept her smiling through the poignant ache at the memories of Stone that Leto had been the first to bring up.

She still missed him. Always would. But the tremendous pain, along with that anger at Tariq she’d felt after Jon’son had been killed had dissipated a bit with time. Mischa realized more tonight that she ever had before how very stupid she had been to let those feelings keep her away from the people who had always been the closest thing to family that she’d had for so very long.

The drinking, laughter, and reminiscing had continued into the late hours, but slowly the pilots present made their individual ways out of the briefing room and to their respective quarters until it was only the two of them still seated at the table. The awkward silence between them had returned with the departure of the others, but it was nowhere near as uncomfortable as in the past. When Leto had grabbed her hand as she made to take her own leave, Mischa hadn’t been sure what to think. But when he confessed how much he’s missed her, the sincerity in his voice and the open look in his eyes finished the job of melting that cold wall of ice she’d built up over her feelings in the last few years when it came to the subject of Captain…now Commander Leto Tariq that the night’s companionship of her former squadron mates had begun.

They left the briefing room and headed down the main portside causeway, and a grin crossed Mischa’s face as they strolled slowly. “Remember the mornings we’d go running through this corridor?”

“How could I, or anyone unlucky enough to get in the way, ever forget.” Leto answered, returning her smile. “The regulars knew better, but the occasional poor rookie found themselves flattened if they didn’t get out of the way when we were really hauling ass.” He laughed at the memory of one of the times that exact thing had happened. “I heard the Admiral was advised to add a warning about it to the orientation manual for crew members new to the Second Chance.” Leto added with a wink that brought another smile to her face.

Nearing the aft section of the Mon Cal cruiser, the two of them turned down the corridor leading toward the starboard side of the ship and as they past the main doorway to the engine room, they exchanged a glance as the same slow smile appeared on both of their faces at another shared memory. The poor engineering crew just got the hell out of the room that day and fast as the two of them had started another of their infamous arguments. A flush rose to Mischa’s face at the remembrance of what had transpired next. Goddess the two of them had been just mad for each other back then. What the frak had happened? Oh yeah, her own stupid stubbornness.

As they continued walking the uneasy, nearly impersonal small talk that they had started out conversing in slowly gave way to the old comfortable banter the two of them shared at a time that had seemed so far in the past. But now it was apparent, even to the two stubborn pilots themselves that the years of bitter silence between them was slowly drifting away.

Making their way down the corridor that lead through the pilot’s quarters, they chatted about the changes in the squadron and in the crew of the carrier itself since she’d been gone. Who had retired, which mechanic left for civilian life and a bigger paycheck, a couple who had met during their service with the Marine contingent stationed aboard the ship who’d married. And Mischa shared stories of her time leading Avenger Squadron and then as a flight instructor at the Academy.

“So I heard you’re working with Corran Antilles there?” Leto asked, casually. “How are you two getting along?”

“You mean has he forgiven us for that incident in the cantina on Brentaal?” Vac replied with a wink. “I’d say he has, although I don’t know about the rest of the Rogues that were there that night.

“He’s a good CO to work for. He’s happy with the job…and good at it. He’s also turned out to be a very dear friend.” She added with admiration in her voice. Seeing Leto tense up at that she added. “And his wife has as well. She owns a club on Coruscant that all those annoying gossipy entertainment features on the HoloNet News are always talking about. Oh and you should see their daughter. Beautiful child and so very smart.” A fond smile crossed her face at the thought of Commander Antilles and his family. After the huge barfight the two squadrons had gotten into before a joint mission back when she’d still been with the ‘Rats, Margolin didn’t think that she and the then Captain of the Rogues, who she always referred to as Elitist Bastard Squadron in the old days, would ever speak again let alone end up as a great training team or even friends.

Leto had relaxed again at hearing her talking of Corran and his family. He was glad to know Mischa was happy doing her job on Coruscant, in spite of the events that had lead up to her giving up combat flying. And that she had people there she could turn to. But Gods how he missed her still. He was about to say something to that effect when he heard the woman walking beside him let out a short gasp as she stopped in her tracks. Standing before the door to one of the pilot’s berths, the very one she and Stone shared for years, he watched as Mischa placed a hand on the cool, smooth metal surface. The looked over at him with unshed tears making her green eyes shimmer.

“I still miss him so much, you know?” she said in a low voice. “I should never have left him…or you…or any of the squadron period. He might still be here now if I hadn’t been so selfish.”

The pain that had returned to her voice made Leto’s heart ache as he walked over to her and took her hands gently in his own. “Mischa you were never being selfish by making the choice you did to take that Avenger XO position. Stone was so damn proud of you, as any good big brother would be. What happened to him wasn’t your fault.” He paused briefly, searching her face before he continued. “It wasn’t my fault either and it sure as frak wasn’t his. If anyone should take the blame it’s the Empire and the pilot of that Interceptor who shot him down and we both know that. And you also damn well know he would hate to see us keep hurting each other over this. If you want to honor his memory and his sacrifice, remember how he lived his life and stop dwelling on how it was ended.” He finished, waiting for her reaction and expecting the worst.

Rather than the explosion from Mischa that he’d been bracing himself for mentally, Leto watched as her head dropped down to stare at a spot on the floor before looking back up at him and Leto’s fingers moved to brush away the single tear that had escaped down her cheek. She always did have a hard time crying in front of anyone, even him. Mischa took in one shaky breath as Leto moved closer and took her face in his hands tentatively touching his lips to hers only briefly before moving back out of her space. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha…” was all he got out before Mischa pulled him back toward her, small hands going to his own face in the way he could never forget even if he tried and that’s what broke the last barrier down between them.

When the need to breath again became overwhelming, Mischa released him before looking around at the corridor they were standing in and giving that trademark smirk. “What is so damn funny, Vac when you were almost crying a minute ago?” he asked with one of his own.

“Just checking for video cameras.” She replied before growing pensive again, but Leto was heartened by the little spark of humor that had returned to her demeanor. “You know, Stone always used to warn me, CO or not, that he’d kick my ass damn good if I ever hurt you. I’m sorry that he wasn’t around to do just that when I finally did.”

“I think he’d owe us each a severe beating if he saw how we’ve been treating each other these last few years.” Mischa replied, swiping at her eyes fiercely before smiling at him and taking his hand again. “Let’s finish that walk, Commander Tariq. If only because a good man and the New Republic’s best damn E-wing pilot ever would want it that way.”


Leto raised the hand he held to his lips and kissed it “As you wish, Captain Margolin. Shall we make the observation lounge our next stop? Or would you prefer a visit to the gym?” He added with a wink. Mischa smiled at him and replied, “Believe it or not, I don’t feel much like sparring with you at the moment, Orion. The Observation Lounge sounds perfect.” before touching the door of her old quarters lightly again with her free hand. “Rest easy, Big Man. I’ll never forget everything you did for your little sis.” She thought before turning to walk back down the corridor leading to the forward observation lounge with Leto still holding on to her hand.

At this hour they had the transparisteel-viewported room to themselves and walked over to stand looking out upon the starfield spread out before them as the Second Chance made its way slowly through space on one of the last journeys of her long, hard-campaigned career. Mischa stood in front of him, Leto’s arms around her waist as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. Even after all this time, they could still slip so very easily into that same comfortable stance with each other as they stood there silently, appreciating the endless dark vista before them.

“I’ve missed it our here.” Said Misch finally being the one to break the reverie. “Seeing it through the canopy of a fighter while keeping an eye on the rooks just isn’t quite the same.”

“Those stars are a beautiful sight no matter how much I’ve looked at them all these years, but you know what’s even better?” Leto’s voice dropped down an octave as his lips moved closer to her ear, “Seeing you in the rain in that white sundress during furlough on Ithor. I thought nothing could beat the way you looked in a bikini, but…”

Mischa met his eyes, reflected in the transparisteel and returned the slow intimate smile with one of her own at the memories of that rare week they had spent away. Just the two of them on the edge of a lush green nowhere. Where the only sounds were of the occasional gentle rainstorms, the animals in the tropical forest just yards away from their small accommodations…and the ones that they made themselves.

“Remember that shoreleave on Chandrila? You almost had to carry me out of that marketplace over your shoulder because I didn’t want to leave. Those jewel fruit and fresh berries were just sinful after what passes for food on this crate. And I didn’t hear you complaining about my dawdling in the market when I was feeding them to you later that night.” She reminded him.

“I know the right time to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t earn this rank by being a stupid man.” Tariq said with a laugh. “Although that may be arguable. If I hadn’t kept my mouth shut and actually tried talking to you, I wouldn’t have missed out on all this time.” He added in a regretful tone.

Mischa turned in the circle of his arms to face him. “You aren’t the one at fault here, Leto. I started that argument and then just couldn’t let it go. Couldn’t swallow my damn pride and just say I’m sorry. So I’m saying it now. Leto, I’m so…” that’s all she got out before he placed one finger over her lips to stop her with a slight shake of his head. “It’s in the past, Mi-Mi. Let it go. No arguments, no regrets All I want to do now is spend some time with the woman I haven’t been able to go a single day for nearly the past five years without thinking about and never thought I’d see again. Whatever comes after this, all that matters is that you’re my friend again and I’ll always be here for you Misch.”

The red-haired woman was silent for a moment, rendered rarely speechless by his words. “You know I never stopped loving you, Leto. Even when I was angry and hurting at my worst, there was always this little part of me deep inside that remembered the good times we had. And how you were the first person, other than Stone, who loved me almost unconditionally and in spite of myself. Who saw through me every time. No one made me feel like that before, and no one has since.” She smiled at the expression that last statement invoked. The smile on Leto’s face as he moved closer, mirroring her own as she closed the already miniscule distance between them. If this kiss was less urgent than the one they had shared in the corridor outside she and Stone’s old quarters it was no less passionately heartfelt.

“So, your quarters are closer than my temporary billet are they not, Commander Tariq?” Mischa said after their mouths had parted again, her eyes merry.

He raised one eyebrow then smiled in that way that made his blue eyes glow, an expression she had come to sorely miss and had thought she’d only see again in her dreams. “Always did like the way you think, Captain Margolin”

Rather than rushing back to the CAG’s quarters as you might expect, the two of them took their time. Walking arm in arm and talking of shared memories in a low voice so not to wake those pilots who were now sanely asleep. When they reached the hatch to Leto’s bunk he hesitated, looking down at Mischa, with a serious expression. “Are you sure about this, Misch? I don’t want you regretting this tomorrow.”

Rather than saying any word in reply, Vac reached out and punched in a series of numbers on the keypad next to the door. “I can’t believe you’re still using my service number as your entry code.” She said with a grin as she saw the little green light flash before snagging a handful of his jacket and pulling him inside as Leto laughed.


“Nice new digs.” She walked around the small office attached to his quarters, looking the place over as Leto leaned against the closed hatchway watching her. When she reached his desk, Vac ran her fingers over the one relatively uncluttered place on its surface and smiled. “Still have the old desk I see. And you don’t keep it any neater either” Her voice had taken on a relaxed and teasing tone as she looked at him. “How long did it take you exactly to pick up all those papers and everything else from off the floor that night?”

“I don’t recall getting any sleep for that entire night come to think of it for a couple of reasons.” Tariq answered with a smile of his own as he walked over, “But cleaning up that mess was well worth it. No desktops tonight though, Misch.” He took her hands again and began walking backward pulling her along toward the doorway to his sleeping quarters next to the office as Vac’s smile grew steadily wider. “Oh yeah? So what exactly did you have in mind, Orion?"

"I think you're smart enough to figure at least some of it out, Captain.", Leto laughed as they cross the threshold to his room. "And if not, I'll be happy to show you."

~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

Later...

“We can’t do this to ourselves again.” Resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder, Mischa just smiled at the questioning look her statement elicited from Tariq. “I don’t mean what we just did, flyboy. I mean staying apart. After tonight, I know I wouldn’t be able to handle the idea of not seeing you again.”

Leto kissed her forehead. “And what do you propose we do to solve that problem Mi-Mi?” Mischa snuggled in closer to him, “I have a few thoughts on that matter, but let’s sleep on that for tonight, love and we can talk about it all in the morning.” Leto smiled, holding her in his arms and watching her face, eyes closed with that little enigmatic smile she always wore when drifting off to sleep, unaware of his own consciousness slipping away for the night. Just content not only from their being together, but from the reassuring soft weight of Mischa as she curled up across his body. And from the feeling that for the first time in too many years, he had her back again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Next Morning

Mischa had seen a lot of beautiful places and things in her travels over the years as a fighter pilot, but the sight of Leto Tariq’s blue eyes watching her wake up that next morning left them all in the shade. “Hey.” She said, sleep still apparent in her voice as she stretched next to him. Looking at him, she could see that unspoken question in those eyes and Mischa gave him her most reassuring smile as she touched his slightly stubbled face. “I’m so glad I came back here. Not just for the decommissioning, but for this. For you.” “Well next time let’s not wait so long to do it.” He kissed her forehead. “And that goes for either of us.”

“So I assume you’ve gotten your transfer orders by now?” Mischa asked him. “Where is Starfighter Command sending you after the Second Chance is decommed anyway”

“You’re looking at the new CAG of the Mon Mothma.” Leto replied with a grin. “No frakkin way!” Mischa whooped and smiled at him with pride in her eyes at his news. “But…I’m not sure I’m going to take it.” Tariq added. “What do you mean, Leto? That’s one of the best postings in the Fleet. You’ve earned such a great command position after putting up with all the things you have been through leading the ‘Rats over the years. You’d be crazy not to take it.”

He looked at her steadily as she ranted, not saying a word until he thought she was done. “While I was lying here this morning before you woke up, I kept thinking about some of the things we talked about last night. Some things you said that I had been actually considering even before last night. But you being here, right here like we are now, has been a huge factor in what I’m thinking of doing instead.” Mischa was surprisingly quiet as he spoke, but she had a feeling where he was headed. “I know we have talked about this before…well before we were apart for so long. Talked about what we would do after all the fighting was over. Misch, I don’t think I want to wait that long anymore. What if it’s never over? I don’t want to spend every good year I have left ”

“You’re seriously saying you want to retire, Leto?” Mischa asked in an incredulous voice as she sat up on the bed next to him. “Yes, Misch, that is exactly what I’m saying. Leave the fighting to the youngsters and go just find some quiet place to spend time before it runs out. And I want you with me.” He added the last part cautiously, not sure how she would react since he knew she loved her position at the Academy. But his worries were proven groundless when a moment later, Mischa collapsed against him and her arms went around his neck. “If it means never being apart from you again, Leto I’ll do it too.” She glanced over at the bedside chrono. “I think we should talk about it more over breakfast, and before they send out a search party for both of us.”

Leto grinned as he watched her head for his refresher to shower, before following just a few steps behind. “Oh I’m sure the squadron, if not the entire ship will know exactly where to find both of us this morning, Misch.”