Fic thingiebob

[daisysusan]

This is me writing entries in the 100 fic thing without actually signing up, because it's more fun to be able to write them with whoever I want. Admit it, that is more fun!

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, I don't own this contest that I'm doing without permission, I don't own Wes and Inyri. I don't own Gavin. I'm not being paid to do this. I'm doing it to avoid homework.

For #89: Work

Oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods oh gods …

She was doing it. She was really doing it.

The flimsi-plast sheet was in her hand; she’d taken off her rank insignia.

Come on. I can do this.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

She knocked on the door.

It opened.

“Inyri! What are—are you okay? You don’t look well.”

“I’ll be fine, Colonel.”

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: call me Gavin. It’s odd to be called ‘Colonel’ by one of your best friends.”

Inyri nodded stiffly. “Sure thing, Gavin.” The words were not easy to get out; in fact, they threatened not escape at all. “Here, take this.”

Before he even glanced at the flimsi, Gavin looked at her worriedly. “What is this?”

“It’s my resignation.”

“What?!”

“It’s my resignation, Gavin. I’m retiring.” She pressed her lips together and stared determinedly at the floor.

“But … why?” Gavin, instead of the angry or hurt she’d expected, simply looked confused. “I thought you loved flying.”

“I do. But I can’t do this any more. I’ve gone as high as I can: I’m at a dead end. I’ve been in the military for 23 years, but Jaina Solo outranks me,” She took and deep breath, swallowed, and continued, “No one in their right mind would put a woman who admits to shooting a man in cold blood in command: it’s just not done.”

“Inyri, you’re the XO of Rogue Squadron. You’ve come farther than just about everyone in Starfighter Command can even dream of!”

“But I have nowhere to go from here. And the last time I didn’t put my job as my first priority, I was sixteen and running away from home. There’s nothing left in me but the military: killing, and seeing death. I’ve, quite simply, had enough.”

“I’ve been in the military longer than you have, Inyri, and I have no intention of leaving.”

She nodded. “I know that. But Gavin, you’ve had two successful relationships, you’re married and you have kids. All I have is a rank insignia and an array of commendations.”

He blinked once, then looked at her again. “Okay. I accept your resignation, Major Forge.” He quickly pulled her into a hug. “What’re you going to do, Inyri?”

“I’m not totally sure yet, but I do know that I’m going to put me first, the good of the galaxy second for a while. I intend to fully enjoy it.”

As he released her and kissed her cheek, he wished her the best of luck in her quest for herself.

For #1: Beginnings

“Wes Janson. Nice to meet you.”

 “Inyri Forge. Nice you meet you, too, Lieutenant.” The slim brunette extended her right hand, prepared to shake hands as was the custom.

 To her great surprise, the baby-faced Lieutenant caught it and brought it to his lips to kiss it. “No need for the formalities, Miss Forge. In the Rogues it’s always no decor off duty.”

 “Very well then, Mr. Janson.”

 “I find it quite intriguing that you’ve dyed your hair blue, Miss Forge. Is there any particular reason why?”

 The woman stiffened, and quickly pulled her hand away. “I’d rather not tell.”

 “Oh.” Suddenly he seemed a lot less suave, and a lot more like a child caught sneaking a peek at his holiday presents. “Well, do you want to go get a drink or something?”

 “Aren’t we supposed to stay at the party and socialize with all the supposedly important people here?”

 “ … You know, maybe we are. But who cares?” He grabbed her hand and attempted to pull her towards the exit.

“Welcome to Rogue Squadron, Miss Forge. This is how we really do things.”