Aboard the "Rebel Spirit"

Spokes hit a few more keys on the datapad to make sure that the change in Command would be a smooth as possible. "As if that's ever a possibility." He said to himself, but Squelch tweedled a response as though they had been carrying on an extended discussion. "Yes. I know that 'anything is possible,' including turning you into scrap metal." Although he was fairly certain from the tone that the sounds Squelch made were equally ascerbic, Spokes ignored the tin can and scrolled to the next task. The Crew Chief had informed him several hours ago that his shuttle was ready, but this "last bit of paperwork" had taken more time than he had planned. A few screens later, Spokes entered his Command ID and hit [enter]. Now, until she arrived and entered hers, Spokes had little to do but wait.

Squelch tweedled off a more welcome remark. "Good deal. Is everything else ready?" An affirmative beep. The office had never been ornate, but now it looked smaller than when he had entered it. There was only a desk, a chair, a lamp, and the carpet, as well as the obligatory bottle of Wheryn's 'Special' Reserve and a stack of reports that were no longer his concern. Spokes poured some of the rare blend and was just taking a sip when the door slid open to reveal a familiar face.

"Drinking alone again?"

"Not unless you quit while I wasn't looking." Spokes poured another glass and Indy picked it up as she sat down and sighed. "Long trip?"

"Not too long, just not on my 'To Do List' when the week began."

Spokes raised his glass and the two of them leaned forward enough to get a solid "clink" as Spokes said, "To the Rebel Squadrons."

"The Rebel Squadrons." Admiral Indiana Bridger repeated and took a long whiff before downing the amber liquid. "You appear to be in better spirits than I expected." Spokes raised an eyebrow and wondered if the pun had been intentional. "Sorry. I suppose it was a longer trip than I thought."

"Aye. These days, they all seem long. I've cleaned up all the minutiae that I could and have left a list of the current decryptors on top of the most important stack." Spokes pointed toward one of the stacks to his right with the glass, then finsihed his drink. "There's an Ensign who seems to know everything that needs to be done before anyone else knows and I've assigned her to assist you. She's sharp, so you shouldn't get bogged down at all."

Indy put her hand out to indicate that she would like another, but wiggled the glass a bit so Spokes would know to make it a small one and then realized that such "non-verbal" communication wouldn't work with just anyone.

Spokes picked up the bottle and splashed a bit into the glass and couldn't help but smile when Indy did.

"So," Indy sighed again. "Are we going to talk about it?"

"I don't see the need. The FC serves at the pleasure of High Command and you know this is not the first time I've managed to displease High Command." Spokes put a splash in his glass as well and took a sip. "I just need your Command ID here." Spokes indicated the box below his on the datapad.

Indy took it. Keyed in her ID, hit [enter], and tried to hand the datapad back to Spokes, who put his hands up and looked back at her with a look of mock confusion. "Wha..."

"On this day, the 26th of June, 2006, I, Tyrell Borran, Fleet Commander of the Rebel Squadrons do hereby pass command of the Rebel Squadrons to Admiral Indiana Bridger." Spokes intoned as formally as if addressing the combined Fleets. "It may only be for the interim, since Patrick resigned the day before my resignation. But, whether by Line of Succession or Vote of High Command, you now sit in the Big Chair. To paraphrase Castor, 'May the Gods have mercy on your soul."

"Cute." Indy placed the datapad on what was now her desk and let the larger presence of the "Rebel Spirit" soak in and, by extension, the Rebel Squadrons. "Castor was right about one thing."

"More than one." Spokes interjected with a slight nod.

"True. But, I meant the solitary feeling. Like being alone in a crowd." Indy couldn't think of anything more apt.

"Aye. Solitary and these," Spokes indicated the four walls of the Office of the Fleet Commander, "Are your confines." Spokes eyes sparkled with a smile that did not reach his mouth and it was Indy's turn to raise an eyebrow. Spokes finished what was in his glass, put the stopper back in the bottle and pushed back from the desk. Indy stood looking down as Spokes spun his chair around the desk and stopped in front of her. He was almost tempted to throw her a salute but Indy broke what could've been an extremely awkward moment by stepping forward and leaning into a brief hug. "Hold the reins tight, but with a light hand." Spokes said softly then strolled out the door. "Come on Squelch. Can't keep the Crew Chief waiting forever." The R2 unit sped past Indy and the door closed while it was still responding to the last taunt by Spokes.

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I'll forego the long list of thanks, but do want to point out that Rear Admiral Patrick Blastfire may well be the longest serving RSXO we have had. He served first under Gavin and then under me until Monday. Thanks for your years of service.
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Vice Admiral Tyrell "Spokes" Borran
-Rebel Squadrons Fleet Commander Emeritus 2/25/2005-6/27/2006

--Rebel Squadrons-- a H.I.E.R.* organization--
--(* Honesty, Integrity, Equanimity, Respect)--
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