Of Wheels and Fortunes

[Harlequin]

"Damnit!"

Alex sucked the edge of her thumb, more as a stopper to her mouth to keep from cussing further than any sort of medical application to the injured digit.

"These frelling bolts are soldered on, Im prety damn certain of that" she groused.

The hand-in-mouth was an imperfect remedy and Desi Garood scowled at her. "Keep a civil tongue in your head, Harlequin. You're supposed to be a Jedi."

The pilot, and owner, of the Gullycrawler - the offending ship whose bolts were giving Alex such fits of ill-humor - took the wrench from her hand with a disdainful 'hurrump."

"Why dont you just use a little of that force-mojo on it, save us all the agrivation of listening to your whining" he added, setting to work on his ship with the familiarity of a lover.

Alex sneered. "We're not supposed to use it for tricks and things. We are supposed to be responsible." Her tone expressed just what she thought of that idea, though, as an afterthought, Coal looked surrepticiously about for her Jedi Master, Hobgoblin, who would not be pleased to hear her say such such things. Coal couldn't see him, but changed the subject just to be on the safeside.

"Rogue Squadron is supposed to arrive today, if they dont get lost that is" she moved around, getting up under Desi's reach to inspect his progress on the bolt and getting a sharp whiff of perspiration for her trouble. "Crack-pilots, I hear" she went on, "How come you never joined up with the Rebels like that, they could use your help you know."

"Busy. Doing. Other.....Stuff" and with a small pop the bolt turned and Desi smacked his elbow painfully against the bulwark as it gave way, "Damnit!".

Alex grinned smugly. The force, of course, might be used for putting know-it-all veteran pilots in their place once and a while.

Proximity alarms suddenly went off and warning lights began flashing all through the hangar getting everybody's attention with all immediacy.

Rebel fighters began filing into the huge docking bay of "The Valiant"

"Looks like the hot-shots didn't get lost after all" Alex remarked to Garood, cleaning off her grease-marked hands with a dry rag and openly gawking at the inspiring spectacle the disciplined pilots made as one craft after another neatly took its place within the great ship.