rogueskeptic: (emo pilot)
After everything back on Terra, Hobbie would have been just as happy to never set eyes on the thrice-damned planet ever again. He wasn't quite ready to retire, but he also couldn't quite imagine returning to training squadrons any time soon. It was Wedge who'd suggested a long vacation, most of which Hobbie had spent on Ralltiir, getting to know what was left of his family once more.

He was finally back, though. As a hero of the New Republic, apparently there'd been a memorial service for Janson while he was gone. He wasn't entirely sure he regretted missing it. After all, he'd been there for the actual funeral. Everyone here who knew him seemed to be treating him with kid gloves. Those who didn't just looked at his expression and decided to tread softly.

He had to admit that his first day back could have gone better. Much better. The trainees didn't know what to make of him. Which wasn't entirely unusual, for Hobbie, but the effect seemed to have only increased.

At the moment, he couldn't much bring himself to worry overmuch about it. Maybe later.

At the moment, he was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, willing sleep to come.

Somehow, he managed to slip from consciousness to sleep without even realizing it, which was really the way of things anyhow.

So imagine his surprise when he sits up in his bed, only to see a familiar form sprawled in the bed across from his. If he were actually awake, he'd realize that there was no second bed, being that he'd gotten a single room due to his status. The image, however, was powerfully familiar, like a reminder of home, and he accepted it without question.

"Wes?"

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Hobbie Klivian

April 2015

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