Worth: A Star Wars Story (ON TEMP HIATUS)

29. Reunions in Many Shapes

"So, how do we act?" Hex asked as we finished our prep work to get ready to meet Talen's transport to the planet Zeffo. "Like, how do you act around a Jedi? Do I salute? How does this work...?"

"Relax, Hexy," Red elbowed him with a chuckle. "Tal isn't like that. He's really relaxed compared to other Jedi."

"But... he's the head of the 82nd..."

"If you knew the 82nd," Tor rolled his head to him with a sigh, "that would mean nothing to you, trust me."

Hex frowned as we grabbed our things and started making our way through the HQ to the hangar. Ryder turned to him as we walked along, throwing a nod or wave to other Guards that we recognized as we made our way through the compound. "Don't worry too much, Hex. I've met Padawan Jall a few times. he's really nice and really relaxed. You'll be fine. Just follow Kando's lead."

"Bad advice," Red snickered as I elbowed him with a small smile.

We arrived in the hangar and saw one of the 82nd's transports waiting for us, and the person there was a familiar face. "Hipshot?" I was surprised to see the pilot leaning up against the transport. He stood up straight as we approached and gave us a friendly smile and small salute. "You're our transport?"

"Disappointed, Cap?" He chuckled. "Tal sent his best to be sure that his favorite Clone boys got delivered in one piece."

"I... think you're talking about yourself."

"Obviously," he rolled his eyes and waved us over, "because any other pilot and co-pilot would die getting back through that vortex."

"The what?" Hex stopped and stared as we all piled into the transport. 

"Oh, nothing major," Hipshot hopped up into the transport and kept talking, voice raising to compensate as we all stepped up inside. "Zeffo has this big storm that's perpetually going on that makes landing on the planet's surface virtually impossible sometimes. Lucky for you lot, me and Wings exist."

"Wings?" I asked, and Hipshot blinked before he nodded.

"Right," he whistled, and another pilot appeared from the cockpit. "This ugly guy is Wings," Hipshot gestured to the co-pilot, who sighed heavily and turned to us. "He may not look it, but he's pretty decent."

"I hate you, Hip," the co-pilot sighed and vanished back into the cockpit. "And how am I ugly? We're Clones! That also makes you ugly!"

"Ignore him," Hipshot shrugged as we all took our seats. "Alright, mandatory safety briefing. Stay seated until we jump to hyperspace, during takeoff, and during the landing. Don't touch anything, don't open any doors, do what I tell you, and don't jump out of the landing craft at any point. In the event of an emergency landing, jetpacks are under your seats along with sidearms, but I doubt we'll need those. There will be turbulence. Yes, I know about it. no, I don't care if you're sick. There's doggy bags under your seat too. Don't puke on my deck. Uh... Hm, think that's the big stuff... Did I miss anything, Wings?"

"We will not change the overhead music for any reason. You will listen to The Agasar and you will like them," Wings' voice came over the intercom and I heard Hipshot laugh underneath his helmet.

"Right! In-flight music! We listen to music on non-combat flights, so since we're the pilots, we get to pick the tunes. We don't care if you don't like them either. Okay! Now, buckle up while we run pre-flight checks. Once we hit the hyperspace lanes, you can walk around and look at stuff if you want. Welcome aboard, gents!" Hipshot gave a dramatic bow and vanished into the cockpit.

I wasn't long before we felt the engines kick on and soon Wings came on the intercom, "Please remain seated until we tell you otherwise. Thank you for flying Republic Air."