Wedge's Mutiny

Title: Wedge’s Mutiny
Author: Procyon
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Wedge/OFC
Disclaimer: George Lucas created this wonderful GFFA. I’m only borrowing Wedge. I’ll treat him well, I promise.
Spoilers: None really, except for a little bit of Solo Command.
Summary: Our hero meets a lucky lady at the sabacc table during his mutiny aboard the Mon Remonda.


Part One

Captain Ella Aurinko entered the officer’s cafeteria and couldn’t believe her eyes. She had just gotten off of her shift in the Med Corps bay and walked into madness. Astromech units huddled together in corners like illicit gamblers or raced each other down makeshift tracks taped down on the floor on one side of the room. Every off-duty body stationed aboard the Mon Remonda was either sitting at a table playing sabacc, betting on their favorite astromech, or just laughing and drinking with one another.

A low laugh sounded in her ear as Lieutenant Wes Janson came up beside her to look in the room. “There’s a drinking contest going on in the noncom lounge,” he said with a jerk of his head in the appropriate direction. “So far, a Gamorrean is wiping the floor with the competition.” Lieutenant Janson was very familiar to her, as he just did another stint in one of her bacta tanks. Quite the practical joker he was. Ella absently brushed her long, dark braid over her shoulder and turned to face him.

“Drinking contest?” Ella asked. “What’s going on here? Has everyone lost their minds?”

Janson laughed and steered her into the room towards an open chair at the nearest sabacc table and claimed one himself by putting his drink there. “There’s a couple rules you have to follow in here. One, take off all rank insignia.” Janson pushed her into the chair and with a rakish grin, started to remove the Captain’s bars on her chest until Ella batted away his impertinent hands.

“Two, nobody has a name or title here. Good evening, man-who-looks-like-Wedge,” he said as Ella did a double take at the elite company she now found herself in. General Solo was seated next to Chewbacca on the opposite side of the table from her. Commander Antilles was to her right, with other men and women seated in between those three.

“I’ve found us a new sabacc player, gentlebeings. Watch yourself, she’s good. I lost some credits from her in the sick bay,” Wes said with a wink at her. “This is one-who-looks-like-Captain-Ella-Aurinko, usually with the Med Corps.”

“I’ll have you know I don’t play games while on duty,” Ella coolly began. “I was just keeping this reprobate company in the sick bay after he got out of the bacta tank,” she said with a look at Janson that promised retribution. All she needed was a reprimand on her file from General Solo or Commander Antilles and she’d be scrubbing out bacta tanks for the rest of her commission.

The woman to the left of her, who looked like Captain Mayn of the Polearm squadron, laughed. “Have fun. That’s the point of the evening. One-who-might-be-Wedge arranged a little mutiny of sorts.”

Ella glanced at the man on her right. “Mutiny?” she asked with an amused smile.

Brown eyes twinkled as he met her amused look. “Glad to have you here. Put your chips in the pot if you’re in,” Antilles said.

“Yes, sir,” Ella said then winced. “I mean yes, not-sir,” she corrected as he mock-scowled at her. “That’s better,” he growled as Ella grinned and rolled her eyes.

A gray R2 astromech rolled up to Antilles’ chair and blatted impatiently to gain his attention. In chorus, three voices chimed, “Vape, cold one.” Ella stared in amazement when three bottles propelled themselves out of an opening in the droid, one right after the other. Solo deftly snagged one of the bottles, Chewbacca the other, and Antilles caught and handed her the third. With their bottles raised in salute, the man and Wookiee turned towards another towards a man Ella recognized as “Face” Loran, who acknowledged their silent toast with a lazy wave.

Wes laughed and explained, “Man-who-looks-like-Face has made a few… improvements to his droid. Thanks, Vape,” he said as the astromech rolled away with a tootle of acceptance for the thanks.

Ella found that her bottle had been opened by the smiling Antilles, so she shrugged and took a long swallow. “Deal me in, then,” she said as she tossed a few credit chips into the pile in the middle of the table.

During the next hour or so, Ella surprised herself by winning a few hands against the pilots, despite the myriad of distractions. The Wookiee tended to snort when he thought he had a winning hand and Antilles’ foot tapped the floor impatiently next to hers when he had a really bad hand, so Ella could bid accordingly. Of course, Wes was needling her constantly, true rogue that he was, so Wedge came back at him with a few digs of his own when he got too far out of line. Ella smiled gratefully at Wedge when Janson made an outrageous crack about her seeing all the crew naked in the Med bay and Antilles neatly put him in his place.

Because Ella was a senior medic, she met quite a few of the crew and other officers on board the Mon Remonda, so there was no lack of men to associate with. Unfortunately, said men were injured or sick so they were strictly off limits as potential romantic interests. In her experience, no one aboard could equal the male pilots of any race for their sheer arrogance and pure testosterone, so this company was mighty gratifying indeed. To be sure, the pilots present weren’t holding back with comments or outrageous flirting with any attractive woman who graced their table, herself included. The women gave as good as they got, sometimes making retorts so hilarious that the other tables turned and smiled in their direction for the loud laughter erupting from them.

As Ella tossed another hand down on the table, One-who-looks-like-Janson batted his eyelashes at her and asked with a leer, “Why don’t you come over to my quarters later? I’ve got a medical condition you can help me with.”

“Hmm. It sounds like I’ll have to amputate. I’ll go get my bone saw and scalpels,” Ella said seriously and started to rise from her chair. With a laugh, the-pilot-who-might-be-Wedge grabbed her hand and pulled her back down, but kept his hold on her hand as he turned to Janson.

“You see what can happen? You threaten a medic and they know how to put the fear of the Sith into you,” he said as he lightly squeezed her hand and released it. Janson and the rest of the table burst out laughing and the Wookiee groaned something funny to Han, who shook his head and chuckled.

With a smile, Ella looked over at Wedge and burst out laughing at the devilish smile on his face. This man was quite unlike the Wedge Antilles that is proper-composed-Commander-and-leader-and-hero. He was charming-and-laughing-and-masculine-and-joking-and-utterly-attractive-and-sexy-and oh gods she wanted him. Ella shook her head abruptly as she came back to solid reality and realized she was staring at him like he was a chunk of Coruscant chocolate. Damn near drooling, really. This was Commander Wedge Antilles she was thinking about. It had to be the buzz she had from the drinks that the droid-come-butler of Loran’s kept delivering. It was making her lose her brain cells.

Cheeks burning, she dropped her eyes quickly and pretended to focus on her new hand of cards. Covertly, Ella pushed her drink away and sternly told herself to drink no more from it. A quick peek at Janson reassured Ella that he fortunately didn’t catch her thinking inappropriate thoughts about his commanding officer. He would be merciless with that ammunition. She could clearly hear his voice in her head.

“Oh, Commander Antilllleeees. Someone here wants you naaaked.”

Another glance sideways, however, told her that the Commander-in-question did notice. Sithspit. He really shouldn’t be allowed to have that certain knowing look in his velvety brown eyes, or that lazy, sensual grin on his lips that appeared as he took in and understood her reaction to him. It just wasn’t fair.

The hands of sabacc continued on, but Ella stopped winning anything. She just couldn’t seem to concentrate. He kept lightly brushing his fingers against hers as he reached for his drink, or calmly touching his leg to hers under the table as he changed positions in his chair. His silky dark hair fell into his face and her palms itched to smooth it back. To make it worse, every so often Wedge would catch her peeking at him, and a quick, heart-stopping grin would appear on his face before he managed to suppress it. Emperor’s Black Bones, how was she supposed to focus on her cards?

A sudden noise erupting from her breast pocket made her jump. Her comlink sounded again in the triple trill it used to indicate an urgent matter in the Med bay. As she rose from the table to take the call, suddenly-back-in-commander-form Antilles rose with her. When her call was finished, Antilles was looking at her questioningly and Solo asked, “What’s going on?”

Ella shook her head slightly and replied, “Someone’s condition is worsening. Excuse me, everyone?” with a nod as she pushed her chair in to leave.

General Solo nodded to her and then said, “Wedge, you wanna go with her? Let me know what’s going on?”

Sithspit. She didn’t know if she could handle being in his distracting presence any longer, but curiously, she didn’t want to leave him either. But there was someone who needed her help, so she turned to him with a querying look on her face.

“Lead the way, Captain,” Wedge said quietly.

“This way, please, Commander,” Ella replied and turned swiftly for the door.

Ella strode down the hall in silence, for the moment too lost in thought about her patient to pay attention to him. As they reached the lift, Antilles entered first and held the door. As he punched the appropriate level, he leaned back against the wall until they arrived at the Med bay deck. When they arrived on the right level he held the door again and gestured her out of the lift.

As Ella took charge, Wedge leaned unobtrusively against the nearest bulkhead and watched her. She was good. The look of relief on the faces of the corpsmen when she arrived confirmed his assumptions about her competence and skill. She quickly identified the problem and began stabilizing the patient.

Wedge continued watching her, now that he could openly could without her catching him. He had seen the desire in her eyes whenever she looked at him at the sabacc table and knew that she was seeing him as a man right now, not just Commander Antilles, and he was very gratified. Not very often was he able to relax his guard and have fun, but tonight was different. It had been a very long time since he had last enjoyed the company of a woman, or been able to, for that matter, and Captain Aurinko’s company was very enjoyable indeed.

As the patient’s vitals came back to normal, Ella sighed and rotated her shoulders. She wrote an additional prescription out for the patient and instructed the attending corpswoman on how to respond to any new emergencies. She was startled to see Wedge still standing there observing her, but then remembered that General Solo had wanted to be informed of what was happening.

As he pushed off the bulkhead and walked towards her, the knot in her belly tightened right back up. She was able to ignore him while attending to her patient, but now she was out of patient to attend to. Bad for her, good for the patient, she thought sardonically. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as the archaic saying went.

“Shall we rejoin or sabacc game?” Ella challenged him with an arched brow. “I believe you have some of my money, one-who-looks-like-Wedge, and I would like it back.”

Laughing, he bowed to her with a flourish. “You can certainly try, one-who-looks-like-Ella.”

The openly amused looks and muffled snorts emanating from the other medics present made her grab his arm and start tugging him towards the hall. If there was anyone who could needle and tease her better than Wes Janson, it was this bunch of vultures in the Med bay. The less they had to see, the less flak she would get during her next shift.

Out in the hall, Wedge’s comlink squawked at him. As he reported the all clear to General Solo and closed his comlink, she pushed the button for the next available lift. The doors opened in front of them and it was nearly full of people.

“Looks like your mutiny is catching on,” Ella muttered and squeezed in on one side, ignoring his smothered laugh. How he managed to get in behind her in the cramped space, she didn’t know, but her lower stomach tightened even more as he casually placed his hand on her hip. She wanted him and there was no denying it now, Commander or not.

The grav lift descended back to officer country and all aboard filed out of it, most of them heading towards the rooms that were now full of off-duty crewmembers and officers. Wedge’s hand remained at her hip as he guided her out into the hall. When they reached the officer’s cafeteria and looked in, they saw their previous table was full, as were all of the others. A 3PO droid with multicolored plating was vehemently arguing with the Wookiee, who Han was apparently trying to restrain.

Shaking his head, Wedge caught hold of her hand again and gently tugged her into the hall. “Let’s try another room,” he said as they moved down the hall toward the noncommissioned officer’s lounge.

There was quite a bit of noise coming from the lounge at the end of the hall, so Ella and Wedge didn’t hear the trio of astromechs zipping down the hall until the droids came around the corner right in front of them. Ella’s knees knocked painfully against the one in the lead and the R2 squealed in surprise. As Ella started to fall, Wedge tugged at her arm to keep her upright and pulled her into a recess in the bulkhead to let the apologetically hooting droids by.

When Wedge pulled on her arm Ella lost her balance and stumbled against him, pushing him into the wall. His arms came around her reflexively and he chuckled when he saw the slightly exasperated look on her face.

“Not safe anywhere, is it?” Wedge asked. Ella shook her head and tried unsuccessfully to ignore the feel of his strong, lean body pressed up against hers. She looked up again to see Wedge-with-the-devilish-smile laughing down at her. Gods, he really shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that…

Ella shut her eyes and tried to think of something, anything to distract herself…Emperor Palpatine naked, Emperor Palpatine naked… until she felt Wedge run a finger along her jawline. Her brilliant blue eyes snapped open and she stared up at him.

“Remember, I’m not Commander Antilles right now,” he said with gentle admonishment. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he continued, “Even if I were, I wouldn’t mind if you made a shameless pass at another officer.”

With a half snort, half laugh, Ella relaxed against him and threaded her arms around his waist. He was right. She wanted him, no matter who he was, and that was all there was to it. Who was she to deny herself?

“I have a question for you then, woman-who-looks-like-Ella,” Wedge said in a low voice that did disastrous things to her insides. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

All she could do was shake her head in the negative as she saw him tilt his head, almost imperceptibly, and lower his mouth to hers. Soft lips met hers hesitantly at first, then became eager and demanding as Ella twined her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Alternating between slow and fast, his tongue rubbed and stroked against hers until her head started spinning. Sithspit, he was good at this. His mouth was still infused with the brandy he had been drinking earlier during their sabacc games.

With a groan, Wedge broke off the kiss. “We can’t do this here,” he whispered. “Can I take you to my quarters?” he asked raggedly.

Ella nodded and peeked her head out of the recess they were in. They had been lucky no one saw them, at least that they knew of. The coast was clear now. Imperiously she tugged his head down and kissed him again thoroughly, then asked impatiently, “Which way?”