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"Quit goggling at him and go ask him to sneak out with you," Wes told Hobbie. "You've been keeping your hands off each other long enough."
Hobbie scowled and glared at Wes. “Shut up. He hasn't… what if it's over?” He hadn't heard anything from them, both frantic and watched over by Intel. But Tycho hadn't… Hobbie sighed and slumped further in his seat.
"You're such a worrywart, Hobbs," Wes said. "He's had Intel breathing down his neck ever since he got back from Lusankya. He probably just didn't want to draw their attention to you. Look, Wedge is dragging him over here now; he's probably just as nervous about talking to you."
“What a pair we must make,” Hobbie bemoaned before looking at him like before. It had been two entire years. Tycho was skinnier. Hobbie looked at him, feeling his heart ache. If Tycho didn't want him anymore…
Wedge came over, dragging Tycho by the hand. "Stop avoiding each other," he told them. "You can talk here or you can sneak out and we'll cover for you, but Wes and I are sick of your pining."
Hobbie sighed and stood up. “Come on. We’re getting full permission to leave,” he told Tycho. “Unless you…?”
Tycho smiled. It was a quiet, sad smile, nothing like the fiery man Hobbie had fallen in love with all those years ago, but it was still Tycho's. "Let's go," he said. "At the very least we can talk without your favorite pervert listening in."
Wes smirked and blew them a kiss. "Go have fun, boys," he said firmly.
“He grew on me. Like mold,” Hobbie deadpanned before they walked off. They left the celebration and into the night air of Coruscant. Hobbie paused for a moment and turned to him. “I missed you. Can I take you somewhere that isn’t controlled by the New Republic?”
"I think that would be just about perfect," Tycho said. "I... I missed you too."
Hobbie cupped his face and pressed their foreheads together. “We don’t have to do anything physical but we should catch up.”
"Absolutely," Tycho said. "I appreciate... It's been a lot."
“I imagine,” Hobbie said dryly. He let go of him and pulled away, turning and sending a datapad request for a speeder. “I was thinking of one of the upscale hotels on the other side of Coruscant. It didn’t… They’ve repaired most of the damage.”
"I trust you," Tycho said. "You'll take me somewhere nice."
“It’s good to hear you say that,” Hobbie told him. “They’ll pick us up in a few. We can get something to drink. Doesn’t have to be alcoholic but that’s ok if it is. I just… You’re here.”
"We're here," Tycho said, taking his hand. "It's been so long. I feel... I feel like you might not even know me anymore. Who I am now. Maybe I don't even know myself."
“Then I’ll just keep staring at you until you lose your temper again. Might take longer this time but I’m willing to do it,” Hobbie told him, holding his hand and threading their fingers together.
Tycho smiled and laughed a bit shyly. "If you say so."
The speeder arrived, stopping and opening its door. Hobbie got in, keeping their hands together. Tycho climbed in after him and sat down next to him, and Hobbie gave the driver the address.
Tycho stayed quiet during the ride, holding Hobbie's hand. He seemed so different. Hobbie knew he'd been through a lot in the past two years, but it was still saddening to see him so flattened.
They were dropped off and Hobbie took them both to the desk, requesting a room. He apologetically pulled his hand away to pay for the room but kept Tycho close to him. They were given their access clearances and walked to the turbolift. Hobbie wasn’t sure how to bridge the distance he saw in Tycho. He wondered if it was the same for Tycho. Had Hobbie become different? He didn’t think so. Hobbie reached out to pull Tycho’s hand into his own.
Tycho didn't pull away, but his body language seemed closed off. "You're so determined to be close to me," he said.
“Always have been,” Hobbie told him, chest aching. “I’ll give you some space,” he said, letting his hand go loose. “I apologize for my trespass.”
"It's not a trespass," Tycho said. "Not exactly. I'm just worried you'll be disappointed."
“You’ve changed. I knew you would,” Hobbie told him. “I’d only be disappointed if you didn’t let me learn who this version of Tycho is.”
They reached the room and Hobbie let them in. "Maybe we can learn together," Tycho said once the door was closed behind them. "You can... hug me. If you want. I know you were never the most cuddly person."
“No but I want to,” Hobbie said. He pulled him close, barely able to believe that he was here. Hobbie let out a shuddery breath, petting the back of his head. “I mourned you,” he admitted, wondering why he’d hurt Tycho like that. Shavit. He shouldn’t have said that.
"I would have too," Tycho said. He felt stiff in Hobbie's arms, but he wrapped his arms around him, trying to relax. "Maybe I should... Sithspawn, I haven't been able to write to you or anything. It feels so strange. There's so much you don't know about. I did my Alderaan Return a little while ago and I was thinking about how much I've changed. The Tycho who left Alderaan, even the one you knew..." He shook his head. "Maybe I should mourn him. It might help me start to move on."
“You’ve been through something horrible. Maybe you should. But you’re still someone I want to know,” Hobbie told him. “You want me to do your hair?”
Tycho reached up and touched the side of his head. "I... that would be very nice."
“What are you thinking?” Hobbie asked. “I’m sure I can get what we need.”
"Maybe just a basic side braid," Tycho said. "Thank you."
Hobbie nodded and went to the bathroom to see what was available. He was able to find both a brush and a comb. Hobbie washed his hands and took the brush and comb out of its packaging. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, walking back into the room. “I figure I’ll sit in the chair and you can sit on the floor. If you’re not too worn out?”
"That sounds good," Tycho said. "Maybe while you work you can tell me what's been happening with you and Wes. You've trained three new squadrons since the Rogues were split up, haven't you?"
Hobbie took a seat. “If you have your datapad, you can connect to the hotel and order something brought up. But yes. I was so annoyed. But it wasn’t so bad. Our first was Corsair. I wasn’t sure how well I’d do but I managed a lot better than I expected. Wes is fantastic on the more hands-on stuff and grading,” Hobbie told him, brushing out Tycho's golden hair. “Our second was Gauntlet and we just commissioned Talon,” he said, separating the sections. “It’s probably my fault we were selected for that duty… I got my training cert during my many recovery periods.”
"I was a little glad you were away from the front lines," Tycho admitted. "But I have missed you. And I know you've missed being with the squadron."
“I would have liked that for you,” Hobbie told him, rubbing his scalp before he started braiding. “I’ve missed you so much, Tycho. Being in the squadron is like… coming back to somewhere really important. I’m glad we got reassigned. Not that I wouldn’t have gone after Isard with you.”
"I wish we'd had a way to have you two join us," Tycho said. "But you wouldn't have gotten your resignations reversed like we did. So Wedge and I decided we couldn't risk asking you. At least you got to put together your auxiliary Rogue Squadron while we were gone?"
“That’s true,” Hobbie said, braiding. “Yeah, I had a feeling it would’ve ended up like that. I forgot how much both work and fun it is building an entire squadron. Training was one thing but this was better. But you know it wasn’t near the same.”
"I wonder how Wedge is going to rearrange the squadron to fit you both in," Tycho said. "We already have eleven pilots. I mean, I'm sure he'll make it work."
“As long as he figures it out, I don’t care. Wes is steadfast in Wedge though so he hasn’t been worrying about it. Leaving all that to me,” Hobbie told him.
Tycho laughed. "I guess he hasn't changed, then."
“Not much anyway. I should probably be a better person but I’m so glad that Wedge got you. Rather than nobody being there for you. But also so extremely jealous. I couldn’t even see you and he got you?” Hobbie said. “I know it’s… silly. But you know? They wouldn’t let us leave. I would’ve come, Tycho.”
Tycho reached up and patted his hand. "I know. But then you would have been under closer surveillance as well. We would have been watched all the time."
“You didn’t think they weren’t already? At least I would’ve been here instead of slicing into footage,” Hobbie told him, finishing his braid. “You want to go look?”
Tycho picked himself up off the floor. "You sliced into NRI security footage to keep an eye on me?" he asked, heading into the fresher to look in the mirror. "That shouldn't be as charming as it is. It's very you." He touched the braid gently with his fingertips. "You haven't lost any of your skills."
“Well, it was you,” Hobbie told him. “But it was a good challenge.”
Tycho turned to him. "Do you want to cuddle in bed?" he asked. "I think... no more than that, tonight. I'm sorry."
“I’d be delighted,” Hobbie told him. “Nothing more. I’m just… I’m really happy to see you.”
"I missed you," Tycho said, heading back into the bedroom and starting to undress. "I know I said that already but... I really missed you. It's good to see you too."
“You did but I’m glad to listen. To hear you in person,” Hobbie said, undressing down to his undershorts. “You were here to take Coruscant. Do you want to talk about it?”
Tycho snorted. "Not particularly. My life has been nothing but big events since we last saw each other though, so it is hard to know what to catch you up on," he said. "The taking of Coruscant was... odd? We didn't know until significantly later that Isard wanted to let us have the planet. So we were sneaking around working on all these clever strategies." He finished undressing and laid down in the bed.
Hobbie scoffed. “Isn’t it always like that? Isard wanted to be Empress but she was predictably terrible about it. I’m glad she’s dead.” He got close with Tycho and pressed a kiss into his shoulder.
"Me kriffing too," Tycho said with a shudder. "I'm glad I was able to help Corran kill her." He cuddled up to Hobbie. "I know you met all the new Rogues at the party, but I don't expect you to remember all their names right away. But Corran makes an impression. He's the little guy with the swelled head. He just also is actually skilled enough to match his ego."
“He was so short, I didn’t notice but I’m sure you’ll introduce me,” Hobbie teased. “I’ll get it once I’m looking at their files.”
Tycho laughed. "I missed you so much. I think you and Wes will fit right back in."
“How do you want to handle… us?” Hobbie asked. “I know we still need to get to know each other better but… Tych, I’ll go insane.”
"If you aren't bunking with me, or if you are?" Tycho teased. "I'd prefer to keep things pretty quiet with the rest of the squadron, so that they don't get too invested in how things are going between us, but we can bunk together if you want. I'd... appreciate it. I sleep better when I'm not alone," he admitted.
“Then we’ll bunk together,” Hobbie promised. “I’ll fight Wedge.”
"You won't need to," Tycho said. "I'll just ask nicely and he'll approve it. He's been worried about me, too."
“I figured he’d want to make sure you were still around. You know how bad it was after Hoth,” Hobbie told him. “He fought so hard for you. Because he loves you in his Wedge way. Not the same as me but he missed you too. Wes too. Although, Wes will probably make Wedge stay with him. Mostly because he missed both of you so bad.” Hobbie explained, holding him. “Wes missed his Pilot.”
"I'm not surprised," Tycho said. "Wes is so devoted to Wedge. It'll be good if they can get some time together."
“Right? I have no idea how he’s going to pull this off but it’s Wedge,” Hobbie said. “I mean, it’ll be on fire but he’ll at least be there.”
"I'm sure you and Wes did a good job keeping our seat warm as a squadron and all the datawork in order," Tycho teased.
“That is true. Wes is a maniac when it comes to datawork. I’m glad he’s my wingmate but we were both uncertain whether you’d return. I mean, he obviously believed in it. I figured we’d go ahead and keep everything warm for you and then if you didn’t end up coming back, we were going to defect as well,” Hobbie said, cuddling closer.
"You'd be terrifying additions to any pirate gang," Tycho said. "I'm glad you didn't have to though." He yawned. "As much as I'm enjoying this, Wedge is going to want us back on base tomorrow for our new orders. Maybe we should try this sleeping thing. I hear it's all the rage now."
“Sounds like it's worth trying,” Hobbie said, closing his eyes and sinking into the feeling of having Tycho here.
"And they're gone," Tycho said, watching the two X-wings fly up and out of Coruscant's atmosphere.
It had all happened so quickly. One night with Hobbie; one day where Wedge revealed the details of his plan to create a new squadron; one night cuddling with Hobbie, Wedge, and a slightly distraught Wes—reasonably so: he'd expected to have more than a few hours to show how much he'd missed Tycho before being reassigned again. And now Wedge and Wes were off to dreary Folor Base to train up yet another new squadron.
Tycho turned to Hobbie. "Has Wes infected you with his philosophy about the healing power of work, or do you need to take the day and deal with yesterday's news about Talon Squadron?"
Hobbie looked at him and shook his head. “I can, obviously, but I’d rather… I need a break.”
Tycho hugged him. "Take all the time you need. I'm here if I can help. Whenever you do want to get into squadron work, we have three empty slots to recruit pilots for, but... I'm guessing that's not something you have the heart for right now."
Hobbie buried his face into the crook of Tycho's neck. “I can tomorrow. I promise. But right now, I need to…” he shook his head. “I don't know.”
Tycho rubbed his back. "Would it help to talk about them? Or not yet? We can sit and talk about other things. I have datawork but I can sit with you and listen."
Hobbie huffed and nodded. “Lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling might help. Talk to me and I'll give you commentary,” he said, pulling away slightly to look Tycho in the eyes. “What a disaster.”
"What a disaster," Tycho agreed. "I know... I know Wedge is eager to start his new squadron but he might have given you and Wes a little time to grieve together." He turned, still keeping an arm around Hobbie's waist, and led him indoors. "At least I have an entire office with a nice clean floor to lie on and stare at the ceiling while I work and chat. Or we could go to my quarters and I can work from there. Either way."
“Let's stay in your office. Let your pilots know you're available,” Hobbie told him. “That's what we did. Had office hours as well as trying to be available. Obviously, they're not new and you’ve all been pirating together but still. This is a change.”
"It is a change," Tycho said, leading him toward the office. "For both of us. I haven't been in command of a squadron before—I know we were both trained for it, but there are going to be a lot of differences between Academy TIE training and handling the Rogues—and you were most recently in command, so you'll have to adjust to being my second, as well as getting to know the new Rogues."
Hobbie nodded. “I’ll be on the floor for a bit then start reviewing data. Least I can do. I’m your XO. I can help you as you adjust.”
"Technically Nawara's the XO, you're just the second in command," Tycho said. He let them into the office and hugged Hobbie tightly before letting go. "Wes handled both roles for your training squadrons, didn't he? That'll be another adjustment for you, sorting out which parts of the job you and Nawara each handle. You'll probably be working pretty closely with him and Emtrey, our quartermaster."
Hobbie breathed out. “Oh, yes. Right right. Yes, he did,” he confirmed. “Shavit. I need to reach out with Nawara and introduce myself to Emtrey. Kriff.”
"You need a break," Tycho reminded him. "Nawara and Emtrey will still be around tomorrow." He pushed down on Hobbie's shoulders gently. "Floor time."
“Yay, floor time,” Hobbie said sarcastically and knelt, then laid himself down. He breathed deep and looked at the ceiling. “I’ll also need to look at the Talons' flight data so I can program a Sim. I know, not now but soon,” he said with dread.
"Ugh," Tycho said. "Did Wedge assign you that too? He's so... practical sometimes."
“He did and that he is,” Hobbie told him with a sigh. “I imagine it's so I can grieve and try to fix it. If I fix it, then at least I know I can make myself fix anything. But Wedge doesn't quite understand that that's not. Not everyone is going to be able to do that the same.”
"Yeah," Tycho said. He sat down and took out some of the datapads he needed to work on. "Wedge has very high standards and they don't include allowing himself or anyone else time to break down."
“Good thing we’re not under his command for a few moments. But I will do the Sim, obviously. I want to know what happened, and what we can do better,” Hobbie said, looking at the ceiling.
"Always improving," Tycho said. "That would be a good motto for a squadron or something."
“Well, we can nominate that for the next squadron Wedge builds,” Hobbie said, droll and joking.
"I wonder how his current one will turn out," Tycho agreed. "Maybe it'd fit them. I can send him a note."
Hobbie chuckled. “Do that. I don't know. It's those two though. I’m sure they'll be excellent but also slightly deranged. You know, like the first Rogue Squadron.”
"Oh, the current Rogues are reasonably deranged," Tycho said. "Would you like me to tell you a bit about them? Or is that too much like work?"
“Too much, too much,” Hobbie told him. “Later. I promise.”
"That's fine," Tycho said. "We have time."
The turbofizz appeared in his peripheral vision, startling him. Hobbie jumped slightly and looked up from the sim editing interface, taking off his headset. "Tycho! I didn't see you there."
"I noticed," Tycho said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Is that them?"
Hobbie looked back at the holo-display and nodded, feeling a bit of a catch in his throat. "This view is from Talon Twelve's flight recorder," he said. He'd been watching through each version of the battle, a few seconds at a time, scrolling back and forth to check where the rough-cut from the automatic sim compiler needed adjustment. It was a slight torture, watching his trainees fail and die over and over again, in such detail.
Tycho nodded and sat down, perching on the edge of the desk. "Recovery Division still doing their good work?" he said. Not sarcasm, respect.
"They're professionals," Hobbie said, his tone making it a compliment. He opened the turbofizz and took a long, long drink. Recovery had first been instituted after Hoth, a stopgap measure to scavenge Rebel battlefields—there were so many losses on Hoth, and some high-up had gotten sick of independent scavengers selling parts from the Rebels' own damaged tech back to them at a markup—but they'd evolved into a small, proud group that did consistently stellar work: retrieving battleroms from crashed fighters, remains of dead pilots, and any salvageable tech from battlefield after battlefield. It was a rough job that took a heavy mental health toll, but it also mattered immensely. "Without them," Hobbie continued, "I'd be reconstructing this from just one surviving X-wing, and there'd be a lot of gaps. With this data, once I get it all integrated..."
With this data from the lost pilots, they'd have a full view of the battle. Rogue Squadron, best of the best, would fly the sim and develop what techniques should have been used. A three-to-one ambush: Talon Squadron hadn't been trained for such odds, had had no chance. Even the Rogues would likely have to run the sim several times before getting down to acceptable losses.
Hobbie put his head down on the desk, a wave of sudden grief sweeping over him. Tears rolled down his cheeks, landing on the desk underneath as he silently wept. They had taught them nothing. Hadn't even known they'd need to. Their teamwork dissolved against so many and they hadn't even taught them to band together properly.
What an arrogant and worthless man he was! To think he could teach anyone anything!
Tycho pet his hair quietly, making wordless soothing noises, letting Hobbie grieve.
Hobbie let out a sob, knowing he was safe to cry now. He had watched eleven of his students die over and over and over once more. Tycho was here. He was safe.
Tycho shifted a bit and tucked some tissues into Hobbie's hand, letting him continue to cry. "Get it all out," he murmured. "I'm here. I have you."
Hobbie lifted his head and blew his nose before letting out a sob. “They had no chance. No chance at all.”
"I know," Tycho said. "You did your best for them. But it was an overwhelming force. And because the system was labeled as secure by that undercover slicer, they weren't prepared for a battle. It's not your fault."
“It doesn't feel like it was enough. I should have been able to teach them…” His mouth moved as he struggled for words. “Better.”
Tycho squeezed his shoulder. "Are you at a place you can pause this for tonight? You've been working on it all day."
Hobbie wiped his face and blew his nose again. “Yes. Let me save,” he said quietly. Hobbie saved his work and switched off the display. He glanced at Tycho, eyes full of unshed tears.
"Come to bed," Tycho said. "We'll grab some snacks and just... not think about it for a bit? Or talk about it and you can let yourself feel. Whichever you need. You've been working so hard."
Hobbie nodded. “I’d like that,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Lead on. Please.”
Tycho took his hand and gently led him to their room.
Coruscant's Sivantlie Base, temporary home to many New Republic pilot squadrons in between assignments, had a large and well-equipped simulator room filled with tables, chairs, and sim pods for all sorts of fightercraft. For as long as Rogue Squadron was assigned there, in addition to their usual X-wings, they were able to practice with almost any other sort of standard craft in use by the New Republic. Today, Tycho and Hobbie were in A-wings.
"I think the squadron's really coming together," Tycho said, easily wheeling his fighter through a tight curve in the simulated Coruscant cityscape around them. "That Scotian girl was a really good choice, I'm glad you recommended her."
Hobbie zipped ahead, going into a tight twist. “I originally chose her because I had been looking at the first time we rebuilt… She would’ve easily joined us then if she had been around. I’m glad you saw that for yourself.”
"You have a good eye for talent," Tycho said, continuing to thread between skyscrapers and walkways, avoiding the airspeeders. "I'm glad you've been here to help me choose our new pilots."
“Much appreciated,” Hobbie told him, buzzing right over the traffic and laughing as the Sim chatter in the background raised just slightly with angry flight control. “It’s been really good to actually choose a real roster. Not that the trainees weren’t but we were never going to be their comrades.”
"Absolutely," Tycho said. "I know exactly what you mean." This was so good—flying fast, in a highly tuned fighter, with only his own reflexes between him and a fiery death. It was the ultimate freedom. Out here, he controlled everything that happened to him. And with Hobbie by his side... It was perfect. "I'm so glad you're here with me," he said. "I love you. I love us. Like this."
Hobbie took a breath and exhaled. “It’s so good to hear you say that like this, Tych. So very good. I love you. I love that we’re doing this.”
"We have everything ready for action," Tycho said. It had taken weeks of hard work, but—"Full squadron roster, everybody flying at peak, and the new Gravan 7 sim looks so good. I think we'll do well on it tomorrow. Are you sure you want to fly it with us, though? You've already put in so much effort making it. And they were your kids."
“I have to,” Hobbie told him, seriously. “If I don’t then they’ll always be ghosts.”
"Fair enough," Tycho said. "You'll let me know if there's anything you need, of course."
“If I tell you that I tap, then I’ll probably just let one of the Imps have me. But I want…” Hobbie sounded tired. “I want to see if I can possibly survive.”
"We'll all be doing our best," Tycho said. "But I think you can." They were still flying quickly in a winding pattern between skyscrapers. "You want to ditch this terrain-following nonsense and get some open sky?"
“You know I do. I want to see you really fly, Flyboy,” Hobbie told him.
Tycho purred in his throat. This... this was their thing. Something only for them. "See if you can keep up," he said, and stood the A-wing on its tail, blasting for the sky.
“Oh I’ll be right on your tail,” Hobbie promised, following him closely. As they cleared the uppermost skyscrapers, Tycho let off the acceleration for just an instant, and Hobbie twisted around as he caught up. They flew belly to belly, corkscrewing around each other in a lovers' dance. Coruscant faded behind them as they arced toward the stars.