then smiled at Pash. "Thanks a lot. You've solved one of our major problems. We now have a home."
"I hoped you'd say that." Pash smiled broadly. "I ship out at the end of the week. I'll be back in an A-wing, but that's not so bad. We'll keep the station safe for you until you can come out and take possession, and we'll transmit reports about its destruction just to keep folks guessing."
"I appreciate it." Wedge frowned for a moment. "Pash, when you joined Rogue Squadron, you said you wanted to join to get a perspective on how well you fly and fight. You wanted to be part of the best unit going to find out if you really were as good as you have been told you are. Did you get that perspective? Are you comfortable going back to your own unit?"
Pash sat back, his brows knitted with concentration. "I think I did get that perspective, Wedge. Granted, I've only been with the Rogues for a short time, but we did some fairly nasty flying. I don't think any fight I've been part of before or since flying a Headhunter through a blacked-out city in the middle of the mother of all thunderstorms will match that experience. That was flying by instinct, by skill, and by luck. I made shots and pulled maneuvers I never would have thought possible. After that performance I almost wish there was another Death Star up there for me to take a shot at."
"I'd not go that far, Pash." Wedge shared a grin with Tycho. "You are good, very good. The Imps have every right to fear you."
"Thanks, Wedge. It means a lot coming from you." The pilot brushed fingers back through his red hair. "As for my being comfortable returning to my unit, yeah, I'm okay there, too. One thing being with Rogue Squadron taught me is that to be a unit, everyone has to pull their own weight. I've been afraid that