[L14 - Yag'duhl - NR3F] A Rogue Prospect

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Horn?" The lieutenant began walling down the corridor without waiting for a reply.

Corran trotted after him, dodging a repulsortrolley as he caught up.

"Where are you taking me now? Another flight physical?"

"Patience, Mr. Horn. We're going to see Captain Ven. He'll be handling the paperwork for you commission into the Navy and Starfighter Command."

"I applied to join Rogue Squadron, not just fly a starfighter." complained Horn. He rubbed his thick beard with one hand. "Wait, isn't Ven a Rogue? Why is he doing paperwork?"

"Again, patience!" the lieutenant nearly snapped this time. "Ask him yourself."

Chastised, but still curious, Horn followed silently. The corridor took them towards the central cylinder of the station. Fractal patterns decorated the walls, the preferred decoration of the native Givin. Feeling that might be a safe topic, he turned to the lieutenant again.

"Is the whole station decorated like this? I'd heard the Givin were masterful mathematicians, but I didn't realize it would influence their art."

"Just the common areas, and the shops owned by the locals." He stopped at a hatch covered in a diamond pattern. "Here we are."

The hatch slid open, and Corran stepped into the office.

He stepped up to the desk, facing the Twi'lek there.

"Agent Horn, late of Corellian Security, reporting."

"Thank you, Mr. Horn. I'm Nawara Ven, Rogue Squadron's executive officer. The protocol droid here is Emtrey, who," a small smile broke his face, "attempts to ease the load of my many, many duties."

He shuffled through the datapads and tapes scattered across the cluttered desk, quickly finding the right one.

"Apologies for the clutter. As you can see, we've been sticking spare parts anywhere we can. Ah. Here we are. Your commission as a lieutenant in the New Republic Navy, Starfighter Command. I'll need your thumbprint and chain code here, and then Emtrey can file it."

Corran frowned. "With all due respect, Captain Ven, I applied to join Rogue Squadron."

Nawara's toothy smile widened and grew predatory.

"Mr. Horn, your resume is quite impressive. Your escape from the Corellian system, and then from Garqi, ensured you the opportunity to apply to Rogue Squadron. Keeping your stolen X-wing operational for over a year on the run was no mean feat either."

His face hardened.

"But that dosen't earn you a spot on the roster. If you can't meet Commander Antilles' standards over the coming weeks, or simply don't make the cut - and just about every X-wing jockey wants to fly with the Rogues - you will be pushed to another squadron needing pilots. Needs of the Republic come first."

Corran reddened.

I should have known that, he thought. I'm already making a fool of myself.

"Yes sir. I apologize. Where do I report for testing?"

Nawara chuckled softly, offering the datapad to Corran.

"Sign here, lieutenant. Emtrey will show you to the barracks for prospectives."

Taking a deep breath, Horn pressed his thumb against the reader, joining the Rebels he'd chased for most of his professional career.