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Day One: Gavin.
Gavin was listening to General Wedge Antilles, hero of the New Republic, leader of two of the most famous x-wing squadrons to ever exist, and his direct boss, mildly scold him over his being late to morning meetings twice this week.
“Look, if you’re having trouble sleeping the doctors can prescribe something. If you’re struggling with your mental health the head docs can help. If you just need a vacation I can give you the time. I know you and Asyr are due for a good amount of vacation. But I cannot have you being late again. Its bad form, especially since Starfighter command is coming for a ‘surprise’ visit in two days. Gavin?”
Wedge looked mildly annoyed as Gavin retuned into the conversation. “Are you hearing me? Starfighter command is coming and I either need you present or on vacation. Take a day and decide.”
“Yes, dad.” Gavin sighed as he stood and saluted. Wedge looked way too amused and took an extra few seconds before returning the salute. As Gavin turned on his heel to walk away a replay of what he had just said hit him and he stumbled a bit as he walked out the door.
Holy kriffing, gods be damned, hell, I just called my boss ‘Dad’! No. No. No. Nonononono….shiiiiit…. As Gavin walked away, his face burning hot, he wondered if it was too early to get shit-faced.
Walking by the pilots’ lounge Gavin heard his name being called. “Oi! Darklighter! Get over here. We need a fifth for this weird game Inyri is teaching us and no one else will play!” Wes called out to him and Gavin hesitated before walking up to the fifth chair that sat empty at the table. Wes, Inyri, Corran, and Ooryl already sat at the table, cards spread before them. Gavin took his seat and felt Asyr’s hand on his shoulder.
“You okay, Gavin? What’s wrong?” Asyr asked gently.
Hobbie snorted from his nearby seat on an egg chair. “He got called into Wedge’s office for being late, again. What do you think?”
“Hooo boy, he ripped you a new one, didn’t he?” Corran asked sympathetically.
“Well, no,” admitted Gavin sheepishly. “He was just giving me options. You know, sleeping pills, head doc, vacation with Asyr… and I was kinda not paying attention and he asked if I was hearing him and to take a day to decide and,” Gavin dramatically thunked his head on the table and groaned out “I said ‘Yes, dad’!”
There was a moment of confused silence following Gavin’s statement.
“Holy shit, you called General Antilles, most feared and famous pilot in the New Republic military, ‘dad’?!” Corran was attempting to stifle his laughter, but his statement turned the silence around Gavin into gleeful laughter. Questions were thrown at him from all sides, and when Gavin raised his head to answer the cards stuck to his forehead caused even more laughter and questions to hit him all at once.
Unbeknownst to Gavin several holos were taken at this point to be shared in the Rogue-Wraith Squadron group chat. By the time his fellow pilots were done sharing this comedic information about his shame and laughing about it, night had fallen and Gavin was cuddling with Asyr on the couch.
“What do you think? Vacation?” Gavin inquired quietly.
“Yes, definitely a vacation. We need a change of scenery and to get some real sleep.”
“I’ll put in the formal request for us tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Asyr yawned, and curled tighter against her human heater. Handy having a live-in heater…was Asyr’s last thought as she fell asleep in Gavin’s arms.
Day Two: Wes. Face.
Gavin had submitted both his and Asyr’s vacation requests, and by end of day they had been approved. They started vacation tonight after work. As Gavin walked over to tell Asyr the good news he heard snickering, but ignored it. 3 weeks vacation and it’ll all be blown over. They will mostly forget and I will just pretend not to hear them when they tease me.
That night after most of the reasonable Rogues and Wraiths had left Wes was walking with Face and discussing the following month’s “Training from Hell!” as it had been dubbed, when Wedge walked by. “Don’t stay up too late, work in the morning,” Wedge, the biggest offender when it came to living on stims and stubborness, commented. “Good night.”
Without missing a beat both Wes and Face replied, “Yes, dad.” And continued on their way, discussion picking up where it had been interrupted. Neither one looked at the other to avoid breaking. When they reached Face's office they burst out in cackling laughter. By the end of their work session they had training week and their next Prank™ nicely planned out.
Day Three: Hobbie. Voort.
The next morning Wedge sat by Hobbie in the mess hall and greeted him by asking “Have you finished prepping the hyperspace calculations for the simulation tomorrow?”
Hobbie looked up, arched an eyebrow and said, “Yes, dad.” In a voice that suggested violence if disturbed again, then went back to his book. Of course I finished them already, you last-chapter-interrupter! Hobbie grumbled in his head, waiting for his caf to kick in.
Wedge really wanted to ask why everyone seemed to be calling him dad, but even he wasn’t dumb enough to interrupt Hobbie a second time when he was reading over breakfast. Looking up to see Voort sit next to him, Wedge smiled and asked how he was this morning.
“I’m fine, dad. Pass the everything salt, please.” Passing Voort the everything salt Wedge was beginning to suspect that he was in for it today. With Starfleet command coming today Wedge was more than a little worried that a massive Prank™ was coming his way. He spent the rest of the day a little tense, but nothing unusual happened. And that made everything worse, causing Wedge to loose a bit of his already too little sleep wondering when the Prank™ would strike.
Day Four: Elassar.
“You look incredibly tired, Wedge, you good?” asked Tycho, sitting next to Wedge in the briefing room. Wedge opened his mouth to ask if Tycho knew when the Prank™ was going to hit when Elassar, the Wraiths’ medic and resident expert on all things lucky and unlucky, piped up with a “Aw, mommy is worried about daddy!”
Before either Wedge or Tycho could speak the rest of the Rogues and Wraiths began filing in and taking their seats. Wedge glanced at Tycho and the look they shared communicated that this would be discussed later, but not now as the two visiting Generals were right behind the pilots.
Later that day in the gym, Wedge and Tycho discussed what was happening. “Maybe we shouldn’t have given the Rogues and Wraiths their own group chat? All the trouble seems to come from there lately,” Tycho was saying while he ran on the treadmill.
“Obviously, but if we remove it they will go back to sending highly encrypted messages that are concerning to Intelligence through the main computer servers. And we both know how much encryptions they can’t easily crack worries Intelligence,” Wedge grunted out his reply as he did crunches.
“True, and then we wouldn’t be able to steal Corran's information to log-in to the chat.” Tycho’s smug voice caused Wedge to stop mid-crunch and look at his second in command.
“When and how did you gets Corran’s log-in information? I would have thought that he used super long passwords and triple verification for those things.”
“Whistler,” was the even smugger reply from the now grinning Tycho. “He felt that giving me Corran’s information to help me log-in was only fair after Corran and Mirax’s last vacation when they left Whistler in their apartment by himself for 12 days. Which reminds me, I need to give Spot permission to do whatever he wants when I am on vacation next month. He and Whistler talk to much for me not to learn from Corran’s mistake.”
Wedge grinned at his friend. “Operation “I’m Corran” is a go tonight then?”
“Yup.”
Day Five: Tyria. Kell.
A very tired Wedge and Tycho stared at the screen of their datapad and both gave an almost simultaneous sigh of exhaustion. “How is there nothing beyond laughing at Gavin for the slip and the holo? There is nothing discussing the Prank™, or an even a mention of Pranks™ at all,” asked a grumpy Wedge.
“I don’t know. They could be deleting their conversations. Or…” Tycho hesitated, “They could, possibly, maybe have set this up so that we would be sitting here confused as we used the log-in information that Whistler gave me… Are we alone?” Both Wedge and Tycho looked up and around. "They wouldn’t record in a general’s office…would they?”
“I don’t know, Ty…I mean…its them.” Getting up from his no longer comfortable chair Wedge looked around his office for anything out of place, any new items, or just-in-the-wrong-spot knicknacks, datacards, etc. Nothing seemed off, but…
“You two are getting as paranoid as Cracken, you know that?” asked Tyria as she and Kell walked into Wedge’s office.
“What prank is Janson pulling now?” Inquired Kell a bit too easily.
“How did you get passed the locked door?” Tycho asked suspiciously.
"Easy enough,” replied Tyria, smirking, “It was wide open.”
Sighing heavily Wedge sat down and asked, “What can I do for you two?”
“We need access to the weapons range after hours,” Kell’s grin showed he knew just how concerning this question was after what he and Tyria had overheard.
“We just need to practice a maneuver or two with the new toys Shalla has procured.” Was Tyria’s sickly sweet voice meant to reassure or terrify them?
“I’ll need the proper paperwork to be filled out and submitted and I will let you know end of day after I receive it, barring any complications,” was Wedge’s practiced reply. He and Tycho had both gotten good at fielding crazy requests from the Rogues and Wraiths. Too good.
“It was submitted last night and you would have seen it if you hadn’t been doing…whatever….in here all night long,” Tyria’s arm swept around to gesture at the office as a whole during the ‘whatever’ part of her statement. Her smirk indicating that a Prank™ was indeed underway.
Glancing at Tycho, Wedge nodded in acknowledgement, “I’ll take a look when I have a minute. Thank you.”
Tyria and Kell saluted, turning to the door. As they walked out Tycho and Wedge heard a very distinct “Dad, seems tense today.”
Followed immediately by Tyria’s reply of “Yeah, I think he and Mommy are stressing out again.”
The two men looked at each other in bewilderment and Tycho asked “Am I the mom?” Wedge just shrugged.
Day 6: Inyri. Lyyr. Runt. Nawara.
By the time day six rolled around both Tycho and Wedge were pretty sure that nothing more was amiss than them being called “dad” and “mommy”, but the difference between dad and mommy lexicologically had caused a serious debate between them.
The conversation was left for later as it was time for the weekly debriefing. As Tycho called the names of the best pilots in the ranking that week, he wondered when and were the dad and mommy brigade would strike next. “Inyri, Lyyr, and Runt, you’re at the top this week. Good job. Everyone else, you’re falling behind, keep up. Nawara, do you have the gold star stickers for them?” Tycho turned to look at Rogue Squadron’s XO and saw him grinning in the ‘I am definately up to something,’ way and internally shuddered. Stepping aside he let Nawara walk up to the podium and pass out the gold star stickers to each recipient and ask, “Candy or toy?” Iryri asked for candy, Lyyr and Runt each asked for a toy.
The candy and toys were cheap kids items, meant to be easily entertaining and replaceable if broken. Runt had an impressive collection of fidget toys and always had 2, or 5, in his pockets. Lyyr enjoyed collecting the different dolls available and had what was referred to as a “cursed, creepy doll corner” in her and Inyri’s room. Inyri just had a sweet tooth.
After passing out the gold stars and treats, Nawara turned to Wedge and Tycho and announced, “We have decided to give you, Wedge, and you, Tycho, a special gold star each to show how much we appreciate you.” Sensing a trap Wedge stood warily and stood by Tycho. Nawara handed them each a piece of paper. They both had a large gold star on a piece of 28 by 20 cm paper. Underneath each on was a message. Wedge saw his said “Best Squadron Dad Ever!” in scrawled pink handwritting under the printed gold star. Tycho's had “Best Squadron Mommy Ever!” scrawled in yellow. They were both signed by the week’s winners and Nawara.
“Uh, thanks.” Wedge folded the paper in half and stuck in in the pocket of his flight suit as he sat down, grateful that the Starfighter generals were absent for this. Tycho shoved his in a pocket as well, and continued the meeting.
Day Seven: Shalla. Dia. Myn. Corran. Khe-Jeen. Ooryl.
Wedge was thrown towards the mat for the hundredth-thousandth time by Shalla and grunted as he made contact with the floor. “Good job,” he groaned out. “Maybe let’s take a break, huh?” Slowly standing Wedge hobbled over to the water cooler and bench and sat slowly.
“Damn, Shalla, go easy on dad, will ya? We need him in one piece!” Commented Myn with far too much ethusiasm.
“Yeah, he's easily breakable,” replied Dia, with a worry in her eyes that startled Wedge.
“No, don’t talk about dad like that, Dia. He can’t help it if he’s old. And lacks innovative ideas. He’s in his,” Shalla’s voice dropped to a loud conspiratorial whisper, “30’s!”
“I know, old man just doesn’t know how to retire and relax. Get more sleep, dad!” Dia glared at him like his lack of sleep and excessive stim use was a personal affront to her. “Don’t make give you a sleeping pill in the sludge you call caf.”
“Yeah, you’ll sleep for a week!” piped up Myn.
Snorting as he walked up, Corran added in a too cheerful, “Yeah, dad, you might even feel rested and think straight.”
“And then we would have to show you how well the squadron runs without a sleep deprived dad at the helm!” quipped Khe-Jeen. “All that paranoia might let up.”
Ooryl added in a serious voice, “I worry that your human brain will wither from lack of rest and real food. I will procure the sleeping pills and food necessary to keep you healthy, Dad.”
Wedge sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Alright, you all want me to get some sleep, off I go. Don’t comm me unless something is on fire!” Grumbling good naturedly, Wedge walked to the showers and cleaned up, before heading back to his apartment. As he started to lay down to sleep, actually sleep, for the whole night, he wondered if he even could…and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Day Eight: In which Winter makes Tycho blush.
Tycho glared at the assembled Rogues and Wraiths. “Well, since it seems you’ve all bullied Wedge into taking time to sleep, eat, and rest, you’re stuck with me now. Starfighter command has left, but that doesn’t mean you get to slack off.” Tycho was mostly kidding, though he was annoyed at having to cover for Wedge and do his datawork on top of his own. “Because you all seems to be so good at exercising that you have time to chat in the gym, you have extra physical training today.”
Grinning at the groans coming from the pilots, Tycho grabbed his datapad and opened it to the newest section: a grueling selection of punishing workouts. Not that he actually intended to make them do them. But tit for tat in Pranks™ was expected. He wondered if he could finish the Prank™ before he got called out.
“Alright, let's go. Double time! I wanna see your enthusiasm as we head to the gym!” Grinning at the groans and slow movements of the pilots, Tycho led the way to the gym.
“Behold, your doom!” intoned Wes solemly, as the group walked through the gym door. “We shall never esca—What?!” Wes stopped midword as he saw the layout of food on the tables. “Hey, this isn’t the gym!”
“Good catch. Go eat. Enjoy. We all get a slow day today.” Tycho let the happy cheers of his pilots carry him as he walked up to Winter, standing by the tables. “Hi,” he greeted her with a kiss. “Thanks.”
“Thank you, mommy! Thank you, Winter!” was called from the pilots in a wave as they realized who had helped Tycho set this up.
Smiling and nodding her acknowledgement, Winter waited until the chorus of thanks died down and turned to Tycho. “So, new nickname. Wanna explain how you became ‘mommy’?”
“Uh, well, I don’t really know. Wedge is ‘dad’, and somehow I became ‘mommy’. None of these miscreants have exp—”
Tycho broke off his sentence as Winter leaned in and kissed him, then whispered, “I don’t know how you and Wedge came to be ‘mommy’ and ‘dad’, but if you want, tonight I can show you why they call me ‘Daddy'."
Blushing furiously, Tycho nodded as he heard the “Ooooooohs” from the nearby pilots who saw him blushing. “It’s a date,” he grinned.
Day 23: Asyr.
Wedge looked up as Asyr walked through the doorway into his office. ”Asyr, hi. How was vacation?”
“Good. Restful. I just wanted to let you know that Gavin and I are back and leave you with this holo I found this on the ‘net,” Asyr held out a holo. It was in gif form. The top picture was of Gavin slowly looking up, with cards stuck to his forehead, looking miserable. The caption read: “…and then I called my boss ‘daddy’!” The picture below was of Wedge looking heroic and several years younger, hair blowing majestically in the wind. The caption here just read: “Daddy.”
Sighing heavily, Wedge looked at Asyr and just said, “Thanks. I guess.”
Asyr grinned and said, “Anytime…dad.” Then left without even saluting him.
Wedge waited two full, agonizing minutes before he looked at the gif a second time and burst out laughing. Would he be tucking this holo away with his “Best Squadron Dad Ever” award to look at and laugh over? Yes. Yes, he would. Would he deny their existence, and never tell a soul he had them? Also, yes.
…Of course he did not count on his wife (the one he doesn't know he will have), one day discovering this and other treasures among his items during a deep clean, but that’s a story for another day…