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A Wing and a Prayer
Lady JaRuc
“Tech would say any landing you can walk away from is a good one,” Omega said as she nodded a bit cocky to her fighter in the landing zone. The plane sat sideways, one landing gear crumple below the belly, scorch marks all over the body, holes in one wing and the cockpit cover shot through across the top.
“You should be dead,” Crosshair intoned, his position mimicking hers. Long legs crossed, seated on the hanger floor, their backs against a crate, lunches at their sides. The sister and brother sat close enough that their arms touched.
“Uh, Crosshair, I don’t think Hunter and the others really need to know about this one,” Omega suggested, her eyes slanted sideways to see his reaction. “Tech would be proud of me though,” she sighed softly, getting no response from her solemn brother. “I used every trick he taught me to get that baby home.”
Though he didn’t look at her, Crosshair waded up his trash with vengeance but calmly asked, “In four years, how many times have you come in on a wing and a prayer as Carson Teva likes to say?” He cocked his shoulder just enough that he could see her answer.
Keeping a straight face, hoping she could move away from this topic, Omega shrugged. “A couple, I guess?” she said, avoiding his eyes. Her squad leader for her wing group, Captain Teva, would know the exact number—like she did—but she wasn’t sure if her brother knew.
“Does eight count as a couple?” he asked with sarcasm deep in his voice. As he spoke, frown lines of disapproval grew on the man’s face.
“That many?”
“Uh huh.”
A guilty silence fell between them. Lunch finished, both remained seated, watching repair crews scramble over her plane. Hers was priority since she—after Teva—was the best pilot in the Rebellion’s air corp.
Her Blade-wing single pilot attack plane proved its worth especially when Captain Omega flew. She and her brothers had an official last name, but Hera, Echo, Tech and Crosshair called her Omega so everyone else did. Over the years, she’d more than earned the rank of Captain.
“That B-wing is gonna need more than a few days for repairs,” she commented, trying to divert her brother from whatever lecture he was working up to. “I wish Tech could have seen that landing though,” she sighed, rather proud of herself.
Beside her, Crosshair did a facepalm. “Are you karkin’ crazy!” He flung his hand out at the mess she left on the hanger floor.
She’d walked away from it, but her whole body felt like she’d been run over multiple times. Even her thoughts ached. She said nothing about that though when the crew helped her exit the craft, her brother watching, tense, scared. Angry.
“Each time this happens, you’re pushing your luck! The Rebellion needs pilot, you fool, because they die out there or crash here, and don’t walk away.” He stopped and pulled in deep breaths, for once his emotions visible. “You can’t…keep…doing…this. You’re getting reckless in an attempt to help others. Dying a hero means nothing to the parents of those pilot sons and daughters. Or sisters.” He dropped his head and repeated, “Nothing.” He shook his head, “A wing and a prayer won’t work forever.”
“What do you want me to do then?”
“Makes no difference what I say. You’ve always done what you think is best for everyone. You never think of yourself and the cost to you. You make your decision, but…” He paused, glanced at the heavily damaged, grounded B-wing and sighed again. “I won’t be here to see the next time this happens.”
Shock hit Omega hard. What did he mean? Afraid to ask, she turned on her hip toward him and grabbed his arm. But Crosshair sat with his eyes closed so he couldn’t see his pretty blond optimistic sunny sister’s concern. “Why, Cross? Why?” she whispered. “I need you. Echo died on that mission not long after you got here. Tech’s not here anymore. You’re all I have left of family here,” she tried to explain, her mind shaken, her body shaking.
“I watched the Empire fly away with you to Tantiss and couldn’t do a kriffin’ thing about it. I watch every time you fly out of here, and I’m here every time your squad returns.” He cut his eyes at her and shook his head sadly. “I can’t do it anymore, Megs. I don’t want to be standing here the day you don’t return. Or the day Tech’s training doesn’t save you when you land that damn thing and don’t walk away. I’m…I’m too old for that. My heart can’t take it anymore.”
With that, he shrugged off her hand, stood and walked away, leaving behind a confused and upset woman.
*****
That night they met in Omega’s quarters for their holo visit with the rest of the family. The two sat side by side, each attempting to maintain calm expressions and thinking how they would phrase their latest missions.
While they waited for the holo to light, Omega touched the photo standing by the holo disc, the one that showed Echo, Tech, her and Crosshair only a day after Cross arrived. Such a happy day. Happiness that didn’t last long as they lost Echo a mere three weeks later.
Neither ever gave their brothers full accounts of those missions. The island brothers would worry, especially Hunter. Seeing the men as often as possible left some lasting impressions on the two rebels though.
“Hunter!” Omega cried out as soon as his image appeared. She refrained from saying I miss you all so much though she did. However, that would immediately cause concerns, and they’d demand she come home.
The holo call bounced back and forth between Crosshair and Omega, both visible to brothers on Pabu island. Beside Hunter sat Tech while Wrecker wedged his broad shoulders in as best he could. The remaining members of their extended family—wives and kids—were at the beach so missed talking to Aunt Megs and Uncle Cross.
Cross began. He’d been planet-side several times as part of recon missions. He glossed over the one mission that terrified Omega—the one where Imperial Stormtroopers cornered his squad. He returned home with scorch marks all over his armor, the same armor he wore when fighting Separatists years ago. He didn’t mention the shot he took to his leg that required time in a bacta tank.
Omega talked about several harrowing dogfights she’d seen with her squadron and the rather perilous landing one of her teammates managed to walk away from. Whether Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker believed her stories as happening to someone else or not, she still kept the details vague.
Once she and Cross finished their side of life with the Rebellion, it was time for the other three to fill the fighters in on life on Pabu island. Festival. Great food. Wrecker’s latest recipe. What the kids and wives were up to. Tech almost started one of his long-winded explanations about the island communication system, but Hunter calmly reminded him that time was short for these holo visits so he should give them an abbreviated version of the updates. With a nod of understanding, Tech managed to compact what might have been a thirty-minute documentary into five sentences that everyone actually understood. Hunter even clapped the genius on the shoulder, saying, “Well done, Tech.”
“We both have missions tomorrow so we’re signing off for tonight,” Cross finally said, lying because he was heartsick. With a nod, he stood and took a few steps away, out of sight of the holo.
“I love you,” Omega whispered, reaching out her fingers. Hunter reached his out too. “Love you all.”
“Love you too, Megs…Crosshair. Miss you both,” Wrecker said as he turned his back to the holo to hide his teary face but not his audible sniffling.
“Good night, brother…sister. Be careful out there,” Tech said with a cocked brow and a look in his eyes that said he had a pretty good idea how Crosshair’s mission had really gone and who that skilled pilot was who walked away from a probable fatal crash landing. He gave a two-fingered salute and pulled away from sight, leaving his ori’vode.
“Coming for a visit soon? Home’s not the same without both of you,” Hunter said softly, a look of longing in his expression.
“We’ll try to come soon. Promise,” Omega whispered back as she blew him a kiss. The holo went dark, and Omega lowered her forehead to the tabletop where it rested on her hands. “Cross, they look—”
“Old?”
She turned to him, caught by his tone. “Cross? What is it?”
He ignored her for a little as he paced back and forth around her small dreary-looking quarters. As in the days when they fought for the Republic, he once again wore blacks, that supple set of tops and bottoms that cushioned his body when kitted in full armor.
“I’m going home,” he finally said without looking at her.
When she said nothing, just stared at him as if he’d grown two heads, he sat on her bunk and explained. “You followed Echo when he came to help others. But he’s gone now. Tech came with you after he returned home. After almost dying on Eriadu. He wasn’t strong enough to fight any more, but his brain more than made up for his lack of manpower. When they were with you, I felt useless back on the island. Didn’t make any difference who I fought for as long as the family knew it was for a good cause. My brothers—even you—thought me fighting again was a bad idea.” He held up a hand, knowing what she was going to say.
“You trusted me. You knew I’d never return to the dark side of a conflict. You didn’t want me to go because…that would put me—like you, Echo, and Tech—in harm’s way once again.”
He stood and faced her door. “I wasn’t ready to settle in one place and not be a soldier. I was born and bred for that. But like other clones, we survived the war we were created for. Much to everyone’s surprise. Sooo…another war called, and I answered. As long as you, Echo and Tech were here, I was good. But Echo died, and Tech returned home, ready to claim the life he finally felt he earned. And I’m happy for him. Truly.” Crosshair turned to face Omega, still sitting sideways in her chair, her arm hooked over the top. He looked so sad, his eyes hollow with sorrow.
“It’s my turn now. I’ve used up my desire to go into battle. I’m older, and Hunter will say, I’m wiser, but, Megs, I miss my brothers. And I can’t watch you do what you do without fearing someday I’ll never see you again.” He pleaded for her understanding.
She’d understand, his little sister. She had a piece of each of them somehow in her personality. She’d understand his desire for peace now.
Omega nodded as she stood and moved into his embrace. Both shed tears, but neither mentioned them. Such strong emotions. His at leaving her behind yet looking forward to returning to his brothers. Hers at seeing the last of her brothers leave her behind yet contentment that Cross had finally found his spot in life. He’d followed his heart at last.
Omega breathed in his scent through the familiar blacks. “I miss them too. Sometimes so much it hurts. You’re ready to return. Can’t argue with that. You’ve more than served your time, soldier.” She pulled back her face just enough to see his. “Can you wait until I can arrange to take you home? You’ll have some paperwork to fill out too.”
They stood in a warm embrace, Omega only a few inches shorter than her tall lanky but muscular brother. She saw resignation on Cross’ face and guessed what he had yet to say.
“You’ve already talked to General Syndulla, haven’t you? Turned in your request to be dismissed from service.” When he nodded, she laid her cheek against his, feeling how much thinner he was. Maybe this cranky, snarky, smart, kind-hearted brother was also getting older.
Years ago, long before the idea of joining the Rebellion took root in her mind, he’d reminded her that everyone grows old. She could not live the rest of her life with her brothers. But they could live the rest of their lives with her.
Now she told herself: only if she could live long enough while fighting the Empire’s attempt to subjugate the galaxy to its will. Never had her will to make the world better fought so hard against love.
“I’ll talk to Captain Teva and Hera tomorrow. We’ll work out something. In the meantime,” she said a bit sadly as she turned so she could walk with him, her arm still around him, “Let’s find some of Ochoa’s beer and celebrate your homecoming.”
****
Crosshair had friends on the base. He told his squad, and they met him in the hanger the morning of his departure. True to his word about no longer being a soldier, he gave his Firepuncher rifle to his favorite squad member. Omega was flying him home in the small craft the family had cobbled together from the destroyed parts of their Havoc Marauder.
She’d arrived before take-off time. Any pilot worth anything would always arrive early and check their plane. He wasn’t surprised to see her at the ramp waiting for him. Several of Omega’s close friends also showed up on the flight deck. Friends often did when others left to visit family. Oftentimes, those same people were there to welcome the rebel back.
“Ready, Cross?” she called even as she gave Carson Teva a two-finger salute.
“Sir, yes, sir, Captain,” he said with a two-fingered salute of his own directed at her, a soft grin and a bounce in his step. This felt so right.
He dumped a large heavy tote on the floor and took the jump seat. Anticipation grew in him as he watched his little sister run through her pre-flight procedures. Receiving permission to leave, she touched both Tech’s broken glasses and the stuffie Lula. Both men gave her those tokens when she left to join the Rebellion so she’d never forget them while she was so far away. As if she ever would!
The flight home was convoluted. Those familiar with the isolated island never flew straight in or out. If anyone followed, this planet-hopping journey was intended to throw off the curious.
Before Omega hit the control for the final leg through hyperspace coming into Pabu, she shot a cheeky grin to her brother. “They know we’re coming, but boy, are they in for a surprise.”
****
Omega used the excuse of shutting down her ship for staying behind just long enough that she could witness the brothers’ reunion. Crosshair took a final step onto the cave’s sand and dropped his tote.
Thinking Cross was there only for a short visit, he still received hard hugs. Faces buried in shoulders to hide tears. Firm clasps on shoulders. A few subtle swipes across faces to remove evidence of tears. Laughs and plenty of smiles.
When the hugs turned into a group hug, she decided it was her turn. Down the ramp she flew into Hunter’s arms. Kisses, tears and hugs like she always got. She pulled Tech into her hug. He wasn’t much for expressing emotions or physical touch, but this time, his hug was harder, his voice welcoming her visit a bit more crackled. Despite her height now, being fully-grown, Wrecker still had no problem lifting her into his arms, enfolding her into magnificent warmth and love.
Once the homecoming hugs settled down, Wrecker bent down and picked up Crosshair’s bag. “What cha got in here? It’s heavy.”
Cross shot Omega a tiny sideways grin before answering. “Didn’t want to leave anything behind since I’m not going back,” he said nonchalantly.
The island brothers gave each other a quick glance before hitting him again with hugs, Wrecker picking up Cross and swinging him around.
“Put me down, you di’kut! (idiot),” Cross grumbled. Though his biggest brother did as requested, they knew Crosshair’s snippiness wasn’t serious.
Omega had bet Cross which brother would react first at his news. She won which probably surprised Cross. He said Wrecker would get to him first, but Omega said Hunter would. Sure enough, Hunter swooped in so fast for another hug that he practically ran over his brother.
Hunter pulled Omega to him as he kept a hand on Cross’ shoulder. “Did you know about this?” he asked as he gave his brother another smile.
“Yes, sir.”
“I was not surprised, brother, when you left as you were born to fight. By birthright, a clone soldier dies in conflict. But I admit I much prefer you here with me…and our family rather than learning of your death far from here.” To everyone’s surprise, Tech put his arms around Crosshair’s shoulders and gave him a short but heartfelt embrace.
Before anyone could make a motion to leave the cavern and walk up to the house, Omega casually asked, “Wrecker, would you get my bags?”
“Sure thing, Megs.” With a delighted grin on his scarred face, the big man ran up the steps. They heard him picking up something then heard him call her. “Uh, Omega, there’s more than one bag here. Which one do you want?” He stuck his head out the doorway to make sure he’d hear the answer correctly.
With a neutral expression, Omega leaned over to Crosshair and whispered, “Wing and a prayer,” as she fluttered her hand up and away. Cross looked funny with a confused expression. No one could do that to him but his little sister.
Calmly, she turned back to answer Wrecker’s question. “All of them. Didn’t want to leave anything behind since I’m not going back.” Pulling Hunter closer, she said, “I’m on island time from now on.”
In stunned silence, all four brothers shot glances at each other, no one more surprised than Cross.
“You’re serious? Island time for how long?” Hunter asked, pulling her in front of him, his hands holding her arms as he’d done so many times.
“How long is forever?” Omega asked, her eyes focused on his.
“Forever? Here?” Hunter twirled his finger, indicating them all. “With us?”
“Yes, I’m home for good. I’ve done my part in the Rebellion. Others are ready to take my place. Crosshair’s too. I’m ready to come home and stay if you’ll have me,” she said shyly.
The massive group hug almost overwhelmed her until Wrecker broke it up. “Have you? You can’t get away now!” Wrecker swooped down on Omega and threw her over his shoulder. Off he went, singing at the top of his voice about sunshine and home.
Laughing from her lofty position, Omega reminded him, “Wrecker, put me down. I’m a captain so outrank you.”
“Not anymore you’re not. Now you’re just my little sister. Welcome home, Megs!” Off he went toward home, singing and carrying her. Just before they rounded the rocky outcropping, he put her down, and they continued on arm in arm.
Hunter came up beside Crosshair while Tech came up on his other side. Each placed a large warm hand on Cross’s shoulders. “We’ll get the bags later,” Hunter said, grinning at his brothers. “Let’s all go home,” he added contentedly.