Alliance // By Katrin

Tim's first thought, when he met Wedge Antilles, was that the man looked taller on the Wanted posters. His second thought was that the first thought was nonsensical, so he was silent as he saluted sharply and tried not to stare. Antilles saluted back, and Tim stood at attention. "Flight Officer Tim Drake?" Antilles asked.

"Yes, sir."

"You spent time at the Imperial Academy."

"Yes, sir."

"Fly any missions for the Empire?"

"No, sir."

"All right. See Red Squadron's executive officer for your room assignment and the snubfighter you'll be flying. Dismissed."

Tim saluted and left.

It was something of a letdown.

***

Even before joining the Rebels, Tim had been fascinated by Wedge Antilles. He'd heard all sorts of legends about him back at the Academy. Antilles had helped destroy the Death Star, it was said. He was friends with the Rebels' famous (mythical?) Jedi. He shot Imperial defectors on sight. He was a Jedi himself.

Since joining the Alliance, Tim had learned which rumors were true and which weren't, but his awe of the man remained. The truth was as compelling as any legend. Antilles was not a Jedi, but the rest of the claims about his skill were genuine. He'd survived the Death Star run, had gone head-to-head with the Empire's greatest pilots -- Soontir Fel, Turr Phennir -- and survived.

When Tim got assigned to Antilles' squadron, based on the Home One by someplace called Endor, he thought it was a dream.

He didn't remember applying for a transfer.

***

Tim's new roommate, Kon-El, wasn't a pilot. He was a commando, a huge guy who looked human but wasn't -- was from a planet on the Outer Rim called Krypton . He was many times stronger than a human with comparable muscle mass would be, claimed that Lieutenant Page and the commandos kept him around for the heavy lifting, and was easygoing and unbothered by Tim's aloofness. Tim liked him (maybe too much; maybe like back at the Academy where --).

***

Tim's first thought when he saw the Death Star was that nothing man-made could possibly be that big (nothing that big could possibly be made by man). And it wasn't even completed yet. Tim was mathematically inclined, but his head started to hurt when he tried to calculate how many people the space station could accommodate, how many people would be needed to maintain it.

Back at the Academy, Colonel Wayne had hinted there was something huge and important in the works, and that Tim could be part of it if he proved his loyalty.

Now, Tim wondered how his particular talents could have helped with this monstrosity.

***

The night before the battle Tim climbed into Kon's bunk, because he was so cold and Kon radiated warmth. The bunk was small, barely big enough for Kon's body, but Tim maneuvered and contorted and fit in beside him.

Kon woke up and said, "What?"

"Sorry," Tim whispered. "Just me. I can leave --"

"No, don't." Kon wrapped an arm around Tim's thin shoulders. He was just as warm as Tim had expected. "Better?" Kon asked.

***

Tim nearly got shot because he was watching Wedge Antilles vape two TIEs -- call them eyeballs, all the Rebels do it; fit in -- two eyeballs in rapid succession. His wingman shot the interceptor (call it a squint) on his tail as he juked out of the missiles' way and she yelled at him over their private comm channel for not paying enough attention. It was her second kill of the day, the fifth of her career. Tim would have congratulated her on becoming an ace, but she was still yelling at him.

Red Squadron had started the battle with a full complement of twelve fighters, twelve pilots. They were down to eight.

Tim shot lasers at an eyeball, watched them hit it (no shields), and missed seeing Antilles make his sixth kill of the day.

If nothing else, there was no shortage of TIEs to be shot down; no competition for kills.

Tim shot to disable, not to kill. He'd learned, back at the Academy, how many people died on Alderaan.

He'd also learned how many died on the first Death Star.

***

Kon woke up very, very early because he was part of the strike team going to the moon's surface. He tried to be quiet, but Tim had honed his senses long ago and was wakened by the noise.

"Sorry," Kon said, pulling on his uniform. "I'll see you after the battle."

"After," Tim said, wanting to agree even as he calculated the odds.

***

When the second green blast (almost beautiful against the black of space, the red of the Rebels' lasers, the yellow of oxygen combustion) shot out of the Death Star, Tim's wingman (her name was Mia) was a little too close to the targeted frigate. Her fighter was destroyed in the explosion.

"Red Five," Antilles said. "Form up with Green Eleven."

"Yes, sir," Tim said automatically. He realized he was Red Five.

He didn't know Green Eleven.

***

Tim had learned to fly an X-Wing at the Imperial Academy.

He'd been training to infiltrate the Rebels.

Sometimes he forgot, and woke up thinking about sabotage. Then he remembered his father's body, asphyxiated without a mark, and thought about penance.

***

The Death Star made a gorgeous explosion. Tim tried to look away.

***

The victory party (there's always a party) was held on Endor. The indigenous species, tiny furry bipeds called Ewoks, had cities built into forests and lots of food and a kind of moonshine made from fermented berries. Kon was there and told Tim all about storming the shield generator. Tim didn't tell him anything about the battle in space.

Then they got very drunk off the moonshine, and Tim told Kon about his father and Kon told Tim he looked hot in orange.

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