On Silver Wings

The Perch was particularly packed for this time of day. Rogan took a look at the crowd and scowled. He knew most of them but it had been quite a few years since they had actually spoken. The Perch Cantina was the unofficial mess hall of CORSEC's Navy. There was an actual mess within the Garrison but that was for serving members. The true hot shots and aces of Corellia came to the perch. It had been a haven for pilots and Fringers for almost 50 years. Rogan had heard stories that there used to be a place near Axial Park called the Chance Cube which had a similar claim to fame but apparently a shoot up which left two dead bodies and a series of blaster holes in the walls was enough to dissuade people from going there again. He remembered coming into this dive almost 30 years past with his Squadron Leader at the time, a grizzled vet named Bane Malo. He had been completely awestruck by the hundreds of flexiplast pictures which adorned the walls and the massive hulk of a snubfighter which hung above the bar from the ceiling. Most of the pictures were of former CORSEC Pilots and were signed with small salutations to the bar. It wasn't until he got close that he realized that these weren't just any pilots but rather Corellian legends. Cal Novar, Booster Terrik, Devron Antilles; the list kept on going. He had ordered his first 'real' drink here too. A Corellian Brandy known as a Weirrut 99. He had almost coughed it all up after the first bitter taste and the cantina erupted in laughter. It had tasted so bitter and rough back then. He swirled his glass of the dark liquid now and eyed the three empty ones nearby with a shameful look. Shrugging, he downed his glass and then motioned to the bartender, Garm, for another.

The door banged open and he chuckled as he saw half of the cantina reach for their blasters.
"Old habits," he thought as he patted his hand on his own blaster. A younger man, still wearing the light orange and white battle dress of the CORSEC pilots, had pushed through the doors holding a datapad. He searched the bar anxiously and his eyes locked on Rogan.
"Shit," Rogan muttered and he motioned to Garm to close off his tab. He moved to get up but the young pilot had maneuvered through the maze of chairs and tables to him already. Rogan waved him off.
"Listen kid, I told you. I'm done telling you war stories. Go ask one of the other's over there. They're not dead inside yet," he said gruffly. The pilot shook his head, a look of determination in his eyes.
"I'm not here for that Sir," he said, still using the honorific which Rogan had left behind nearly 8 years back. He waved the datapad at Rogan.
"I have information. An intelligence report from the Imps," he said, keeping his voice low. Rogan chuckled.
"Kell, don't you remember? We lost the war. You work for the Imps now," Rogan said and pushed a meaty finger into the cog emblem on the boy's uniform. Kell scowled and turned away.
"Will you just listen to me! It's about Captain Novar," he said. That caused Rogan to pause and he saw a few others around the cantina stiffen. Captain Bren Novar had been one of his Flight Leaders a few years back. Got himself dishonourably discharged by abandoning his post and defending a civilian transport from Talussian raiders. The Imperials had wanted the power relay protected and the Raiders had managed to destroy the multi billion credit facility in the process. Novar had almost been executed for treason but they managed to talk them down into a dishonourable discharge. The rest of the Squadron had blamed Rogan for not defending Novar more but there was so much more than that. You couldn't negotiate with the Imperials, not when they wanted blood. He had retired shortly after along with most of the others in this room, all having lost faith in the cause. CORSEC then had been about defending the Corellian people. Now they were just a glorified militia of the Empire. He shook off the stupor and continued to grab his coat, throwing it over his shoulder.
"Novar was always the kind to find trouble. Not my problem kid," he said and tried to push past him. Kell resisted and pushed him back.
"Now don't be doing that kid. I don't want to cause a scene," Rogan grumbled but Kell stood his ground defiantly.
"Listen to me Rogan," he said pleadingly. "I got word that they're locking down Hosnian Prime. Captain Novar found something and they're going to kill him to get it," he said. Rogan rolled his eyes.
"The Imps ain't gonna lock down a Core World. Don't' be crazy. This isn't the Clone Wars anymore," Rogan replied. Kell shook his head and his anger was starting to show.
"I'm telling the truth! He's in trouble. We have to do something. I've got Ferrous, his old verpine mechanic outside in the speeder. We're going to go punch space within the hour. We need you," he pleaded to Rogan. The old pilot took in the boy standing in front of him, a look of desperation on his face. He shook his head and grimaced.
"I'm not the man I one was. Bren has chosen his path and I have chosen mine. I can't just go running off and causing problems and shooting holes in ships. That's not how things work," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. He stepped forward and patted Kell on the shoulder. "It's alright son. I'm sure it'll all get sorted out and if it's Bren's time to burn up then I guess that's that," he said and walked away. He had almost left the bar when he heard Kell's voice quietly behind him,
"I thought you were different," Kell said. Rogan turned to face him and he grimaced at the hurt in the boy's eyes. He was holding the datapad gingerly as if holding a delicate piece of pottery.
 "I grew up hearing stories about you - all of you," he said motioning to all of those in the cantina. "Major Rogan Alder and the Fighting 42nd. You were heroes." he said. He walked forward and motioned to two men at a table.
"Crix Donos and Dash Madine.You two piloted a two-seater gauntlet through the Hydian Pass taking out the Raz'men Pirates in one pass. And you," he said crossing the room to another man sitting at the bar, looking pensively at his glass,"You're Tash Vigil. Your Kalderen Maneuver is still taught in the Academy and to this date no one has found a counter." He ran now across the bar to a burly man leaning against the wall and smoking. "You're Cubber Sayl, the only Corellian in history to ever go head to head with a Mandalorian Ace and survive." He stepped back and studied all the man, the cantina was as quiet as an Echani Prayer ship.
"You're living legends and my heroes. Half of you are wearing bloodstripes right now and I know the other half are too ashamed to put them on," Kell said, voice growing louder as he motioned to the red and yellow chevrons down some of the mens' pants. He turned back to Rogan, eyes desperate.
"You swore an oath. To protect Corellia and it's people," he said and he motioned to the datapad. "I'm tired of seeing my heroes be consumed to the Empire. A fellow Corellian Starfighter needs your help. Are you just going to let him die?" He pleaded. Rogan sighed and looked down. He noticed the others begin to study their drinks as well. Rogan motioned to the silent room.
"Kell - we are no longer those men. What you see before you are relics of the past. We are meant for a museum not a battlefield," he said mournfully. Kell stared at him and the hurt was plain in the young man's eyes.
"My father died fighting beside you. He was one of you and he gave his life for something bigger than all this," he said motioning to the bar. "He told me the calibre of men that he served with. He spoke of each of you with so much pride - he would be ashamed to see what you have become," he said. Rogan frowned and looked down to the floor. Kell pushed passed him and headed towards the door. He stopped at the exit and looked back to the crowd, all eyes were on him.
"The Silver Wings Fly For Corellia," he said quietly - quoting the age old battle cry of the Corellian war heroes. "Will they fly alone?"

The words echoed in the hearts of all the men in the room. A loud bang broke the silence Cubber Sayl slammed him hand on the nearby table, sending glasses careening to the floor.
"The Silver Wings Fly For Corellia!" he called back. Tash Vigil stood up, knocking his stool over.
"The Silver Wings Fly For Corellia!"
"The Silver Wings Fly For Corellia!" echoed Crix Donos. A moment later the entire cantina had stood up and was bellowing the call. They fell silent after a rousing chorus and all eyes fell to Rogan who had remained quietly listening. The others in the cantina walked closer and formed a circle around the old starfighter, Kell at their center. He had tears in his eyes and he was smiling but the fear was still plain in his face.
"Orders Sir?" Kell asked, voice quavering. Rogan stared up at the men surrounding him; all anxiously waiting his reply.
"The Silver Wings Fly For Corellia," he said and the cantina erupted in cheers.