Hyl's Tale
"Hey, watch it!"
Lieutenant Adam "Guardian" Burns, Buccaneer Squadron's Executive
Officer, barely managed to clear to the side of the Mon Calamari
Star Cruiser Liberty's corridor before being run over by
Rafael "Hyl" Costa Guerra. The Corsair flyer was barreling down
the walkway like a runaway speeder bike, and Guardian corralled
his buddy's arm and pulled him to the side. "What's the rush?"
Hyl nodded quickly to his friend, then his eyes moved to the corridor
behind Guardian and he started to pull away. "Gotta get to the flight
bay. Their shuttle is arriving."
"What?" Guardian asked, letting Hyl go but falling into step beside
Rafael. "Who's shuttle is arriving?"
"My parents," Hyl shot over his shoulder. "They're coming in today
for a quick visit."
Realization dawned on Adam. "Ah, that's why you've been bouncing
off the walls lately." Hyl shrugged, turning his head. He had been
acting kind of crazy for the past few days; things like locking
his passkey in his room and asking the same thing twice. The Liberty's
pilots had picked up on their friend's behavior and started watching
out for him; however, Guardian didn't want to mention that some
of the guys had a pool going as to how long it would take for Hyl
to eject himself from the cockpit of his A-wing fighter accidentally.
The pair reached the main docking bay. The door to the berth was
sealed, and an amber light glowed above it. Guardian dropped into
one of the prefab chairs in the waiting area while Hyl plastered
himself against the transparasteel, watching the Lambda-class shuttle
float down to a rest on the docking bay floor. The shuttle was flanked
by two of Corsair's A-wing fighters; the warships drifted over to
their landing areas before touching down. The light above the entry
door went from red to green with a buzz, and Hyl was through the
portal like a fathier on stims.
Guardian shook his head and followed. He watched his friend charge
toward the shuttle, bouncing as he ran. Memories of his own parents
flooded through Adam, and he couldn't help but smile at his friend's
joy.
Two figures descended from the shuttle as the docking ramp hissed
to the floor. Both wore rather plain jumpsuits, and each wrapped
Hyl up into a huge hug. Guardian stopped his jog a few feet away,
not wanting to intrude on the privacy of the moment. He turned as
a motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Eloy "Mynock"
Cintron, Corsair's temporary Executive Officer, was striding over, still in
his full flight suit, helmet slung at his hip.
The Costa Guerras, all three of them, were jabbering away excitedly.
Guardian made a quick command decision and stepped forward, clearing
his throat. "Ahem, uh, Hyl, if you'll give us a moment, we can show
these two wonderful people to their quarters..."
Hyl turned around, his eyes going wide. "Uh, I didn't know they
were staying overnight."
Guardian shrugged. "I dunno. They're your parents," he stressed,
leaning forward and arching his eyebrows. "I haven't met them—"
Hyl caught on and cut Guardian off. "Oh, right. Adam, these are
my parents, Baer and Windhern Guerra. Costa Guerra"."
"I figured their last names," Guardian replied with a smirk.
Hyl didn't catch it, having turned back to his parents. "Mom, Dad,
this is Adam 'Guardian' Burns, and," with a nod to his exec, "Eloy
'Mynock' Cintron."
Mynock had arrived at Guardian's side, and took his turn shaking
Baer and Windhern's hands. "Pleasure's mine."
"Thank you for the escort," Windhern beamed. "You made us scientists
feel very special."
Eloy beamed at Hyl's mother. "Ah, ma'am, your son is considered
family, so you're family, too. It wasn't any trouble." He turned
to Guardian. "Listen, I need to see you later about a patrol cover."
Adam nodded, and Mynock tossed a salute to Hyl and his parents.
"Well, I'm going to go get cleaned up, and then brief Electro and
the Admiral on Corsair's status, so I'll see you two later. Mr.
and Mrs. Costa Guerra, it was a pleasure." With that, Mynock headed
off in the direction of the pilot's lockers.
"Well," Hyl said, looking at his folks, "I didn't really have anything
planned. Would you two like to see the Lounge? We can get a drink,
I can introduce you to some of my pilot friends and catch up on
what's been—"
Hyl was cut off by Guardian's comm link signal. The Buccaneer pilot
quickly unclipped the comm from his belt and raised it to his mouth.
"Burns here."
"Guardian, we need you in medical bay as soon as possible. We've
got another rookie crit coming in from the flagship Independence,
and needing emergency surgical procedures. Apparently a recent accident in their medbay maimed their medical facilities, and we're the closest ship with any sort of facilities to handle this casualty."
"Copy, I'll be there in three. Burns out." Guardian returned his
comm link and looked up at Hyl. "Well, I've got to take off."
"Do you need more help?" Baer Costa Guerra stepped forward. "I
am an expert in human physiology, and know enough about most other
alien forms—"
Guardian jumped on the offer. "If you could, we'd be much obliged.
Medical's been short-handed lately."
Baer nodded toward the door. "Lead the way." Guardian turned and
jogged off, the scientist falling into a quick pace behind him.
Hyl turned to his mother. "Well..."
"Come, Rafael. Let's get that drink."
The pair found their way to the Lounge and huddled in a booth there
over two tall glasses of K'ipyrin'ha. Small talk had ensued, filling
family in on the past few months. Hyl told his mother what he could
of his first mission, and blushed when she beamed with motherly
pride. "You've made your father and I proud of you, son," Windhern
repeated, for the fourth time since they'd come in.
"Yes, Mother, but..."
"But what? What's troubling you?"
Hyl sighed. "It's... I don't want to go into physiology, I'm a
combat pilot now, and an intimate knowledge of the human anatomy
doesn't do me all that much good."
Windhern nodded slowly. "I could feel this coming. You think by
changing what you study that you will offend your father and I."
Hyl nodded once, then took a sip of his beverage.
Windhern continued."Son, your father and I have discussed this. We were expecting it." Hyl's eyes shot
up. "You've already superseded all of our expectations for you.
You're doing something you do well, and fighting for a worthy cause.
We don't think we could've raised you any better. The fact that
your friend Stryker spoke so well of you shows me that you've impressed
him greatly."
"When did you...?"
"When we were arriving here, he was jumping with other Rogues and
knew we were your parents. We exchanged a few words about you. It's
nothing to worry about. Just get that diploma in two months and
feel free to do what you know," Windhern looked at the table for
a moment, thinking, then continued. "Your father and I brought you
a gift you might find useful. We asked the shuttle crew to put it
in your quarters for you, and they said they would."
Hyl's eyes lit up. "What is it?"
Windhern smiled. "Calm down, Rafael. There will be time for that
later. For now, let's simply be a family, until duty calls us apart
again."
Guardian and Mynock were chatting about patrol schedules when they
entered the lounge, but the conversation died quickly when they
heard the raucous laughter coming from the bar. The pair of officers'
attention was immediately drawn to the crowd drawn around Hyl. The
young pilot was leaning forward over a pile of data pads, his face
a deep shade of red. Behind him was a black-and-gray R2 unit, one
that neither Adam nor Eloy had ever seen before. The pair exchanged
a glance, then headed over to Hyl's side.
"What's up, Hyl?" Eloy asked, pushing through the cluster of personnel
around his pilot.
Hyl didn't look up; instead, he nodded his head toward the droid.
Eloy looked around the cluster of people and picked out a familiar
face. "Parody, what's going on?"
Michael "Parody" Miller, Corsair 7, stifled a laugh and stepped
forward. "Um, it's Hyl's droid, sir." At a look from Mynock, Parody
continued. "It's, heh, one of the new line of R2 units. Top-of-the-line,
factory fresh. I've never seen one before. It's got twice the memory
capacity of the old R2s and a ton of other nifty gadgets. Problem
is, someone seems to have... altered it's... personality matrix."
Mynock looked down at the automation. The little droid's sensor
eye was dull--someone had shut it off. "What did they do to it?"
Parody chuckled again. "Um... well, when Roo walked in, it started
to... trumpet Hyl's qualities to her."
"It what?"
"It started hitting on Roo for Hyl. Same thing when Slicer stopped
by. It was hilarious."
Guardian put a hand on Hyl's shoulder. "S'okay, buddy," he said
calmly, "Parody'll make some modifications and fix it for you. Then
you can take it for a ride!" All starting laughing
together, except Hyl.
Hyl shook his head. "No, he can't. I promised my parents I wouldn't
make any changes to it. I am not sure why, but they made me swear
it."
"Well, then," Guardian stalled, looking for something to say.
At that moment, a waiter walked over to the table. She carried
a large serving tray with a water pitcher and one glass. Just after
her, Roo entered the lounge with her receptors displaying a reddish
color. She set the tray down close to Hyl. "I never knew you felt
that way about me, Hyl." she whispered in his ear. "I think you're
pretty special too." Hyl's face turned red as she walked back over
the Lounge's long counter.
Mynock, noting the water pitcher and his pilot's red face, remarked,
"Mrs. Costa Guerra, surely you know we compensate Rafael better
than treating you to a pitcher of water."
Hyl's mother smiled at
Mynock and replied, "I know that Lieutenant. This is for a special
occasion." Guardian picked up the hint and herded the assembled
pilots out of the Lounge as Hyl's father entered.
"Good", he said approaching the table," the water is here." He
sat down and the three enjoyed catching up on what's been happening
in their lives. After a few moments, Baer Costa Guerra leaned close
to his son. "Rafael, we want you to share a glass of water with
us. " he said warmly.
"But father, I can certainly afford to treat
you two to something a little more extravagant than water." Hyl
searched his father's eyes for approval. Instead he found wisdom.
"Son, your body is made of seventy percent water. You are essentially
water. From this day to the rest of your life you will need to be
closer to yourself. Know yourself. You will see yourself in some
situations that you and only you can help yourself."
"You will need better eyes to see beyond the obvious obstacles.
Better ears to hear more than what is being said , better balance
of mind and body, a better you. Every time you drink, you are losing
some neurocells that for most of us don't make a difference. But
it will to you. Those neurocells will make the difference between
win and lose. Between live or die. And we could not bear to lose
you." Hyl's father took a sip from the glass and passed it to his
wife. She took a sip from the glass and passed it to her son. Hyl
looked at the glass of water and took a drink. Then, Baer Costa
Guerra sat back and smiled at his son. "You will see," he stated,
"you will see how this water will help balance things for you."
"First the droid, then the "water," Hyl knew that something bigger
was going on... but was not sure why he didn't say anything
Later that night, Hyl lay in his quarters thinking about what his
father had said about the water. Finally, he dozed off for a while
and was awakened by R2-Z6's loud bleeping. "Not now, Zeesix. I
need some rest." Hyl rolled over and tried to fall asleep again
but Zeesix refused to let him sleep. The brand new R2 astromech's
tooting and bleeping took on an urgent tone and Hyl climbed out
of his bunk to calm him. "What is it?"
The droid ejected a small box from one of his dome's sides. Hyl
took the unit and looked it over carefully. One end held an interface
jack that seemed custom made to plug into a receptor within his
A-wing's cockpit. "What is this?"
The droid's holoprojector displayed what looked like schematics for an A-wing. As he began to examine it more closely, it looked like some sort of modification plan for an A-wing to allow it to carry an astromech droid, making it look similar to the old Delta-7 Aethersprite many Jedi had made famous during the Clone Wars.
Hyl didn't get a a chance to ask more questions. While looking at the jack and displayed schematic, alarm klaxons
began blaring, and a frantic voice came over the comm. "Scramble
alert! All pilots to their ships!. This is not a drill! Repeat,
this is not a drill!" Hyl was dressed and out the door in forty-five
seconds. At a minute and twenty's end, he was in the hangar. Two
Y-wings from Buccaneer were lifting off, and Hyl saw Mynock jump
into his craft.
"Launch!" yelled Corsair's exec. "I'll brief you in the air, Electro
has launched already!"
Hyl clambered into the cockpit of his starfighter, strapped in,
and began to taxi out when Z6's box began chirping. He looked down
long enough to plug the apparatus into his console, then he launched
his fighter into space.
And immediately saw the problem. Two Victory-class Star Destroyers,
tagged as the Placator and the Pursuit, had emerged
from hyperspace almost on the Liberty's tail. The voice of
Chris "Electro" Schock, Corsair Leader, came over the comm. "These
clowns knew right when to hit us. Rogue and half of Buccaneer are
off on that strike on the Chaldean base. We've got six Y-wings and
twelve A-wings to take these guys out."
"And only half of Corsair is out," came Parody's voice. "This is
not going to be fun."
Tac net chatter picked up as the understrengthed Rebel fighters
pulled into formation.
"Bucc Two to Corsair Two," Guardian called. "We're going to try
to knock out the Placator first. Keep those fighters off
of us."
"Roger, Bucc Two. We'll be—"
"Wait!" Hyl interrupted. "Guardian, go for the Pursuit."
"Negative, Hyl, the Placator's closer and already launching
TIEs! Do your job, and let us—"
"I know! Listen! The Pursuit is fresh out of drydock, having
its warhead launcher upgraded to the new Arakyd IPC-14 model. Problem
is, it's still running on the old model 12's reloader. Concentrate
your missile fire on their warhead launcher and we may be able to
set off a chain reaction back up into the storage magazine, which
is right near..."
"The secondary power cores! Nice, Hyl! You heard the man, Buccs.
Let's get us a Star Destroyer..."
Guardian leaned over to Hyl and clapped him on the back. "Nice maneuver
with that warhead launcher. The Pursuit didn't even get a
fighter off. Too bad the Placator ran so quickly, we might
have been able to bag her too."
Hyl shrugged. "To be honest, I had a little help. Z6 has some kind
of remote relay—he's the one who pulled up the file on the Pursuit."
"Yeah, but you're the one with the guts to suggest that plan, even
if it was the droid who brought it up. Looks like Intel's got itself
a pretty good addition, I'd say."
"I hope so. Now, if I can only find a way to keep my droid in line."
"Speaking of which, where is the little grease glob?"
Hyl turned. "He was right here..." The pilot looked frantically
around the Lounge, his eyes finally coming to rest on his astromech,
with a protocol unit at its side, speaking to a table of women in
Ordinance and Supply garb and one Aradia "Slicer" Emerson, Buccaneer
Eight. Slicer caught Hyl's glance, smiled, and winked at him.
Hyl turned back to the bar, groaning; all Guardian could do was
laugh.
