Matt Hackmann

MattHackmann

The thoughts and goings-on of some programmer dude.

The Captain's Commander

I enjoy writing sometimes. From my annual Christmas letter to dating site write ups, I enjoy flexing my prose muscles.

I don't remember how we got there, but in one of my previous conversations with a certain Mr. Helton, he mentioned something about writing a Wedge/Tycho slashfic. Whether it was a challenge or not, I don't know, but I accepted it anyways. Here are the fruits of my labors.

A note to my mother - Just don't read this. It's all satire, but it would make dinners awkward, I'm sure.

Personae Dramatis

Commander Wedge Antilles, Human male Captain Tycho Celchu, Human male Admiral Gial Ackbar, Mon Calamari male


The sun had set over the city planet of Coruscant, but the lights of ever present aerial traffic shone through Tycho Celchu's window. He was poring over plans and documents for an upcoming mission. Despite the successful takeover of the now home of the New Republic, Rogue Squadron was as busy as ever keeping the Imperial Remnant at bay.

Just about ready to turn in for the night, the door chime of Tycho's modest apartment sounded.

"Who could that be at this hour?" he muttered.

Lifting himself out of his bunk, Tycho pressed the button on the access plate and the door slid open. Standing there in front of him was his commanding officer, Wedge Antilles.

"Good evening, boss. What brings you around this late?" Tycho motioned Wedge into his quarters.

Wedge entered and scratched at his hair, which was slightly unkempt. "Couldn't sleep."

"Pre-mission jitters? That's unlike you," Tycho said as he headed towards the kitchen. "Caf?"

"Yes, please." Wedge sat himself in a chair in the living area.

Tycho returned with two hot cups of caf and handed one to Wedge.

"It's not the mission, Tycho. I've helped destroy two Death Stars and take over the Imperial's central strong hold. War doesn't really phase me anymore," said Wedge as he sipped at his cup.

Tycho raised an eyebrow. "What could possibly have the great Wedge Antilles bothered out of a good night's sleep?"

"Love," responded Wedge shortly.

"Aha. It wouldn't have anything to do with that Qwi Xux, would it?"

"You're a few books too early for that reference, Tycho."

"Shit, you're right. Regardless, you've come to the wrong guy. I'm not getting as much action out of Winter as I'd like."

"No, Tycho. You're the only one who can help me with this problem."

"Sir?"

"I love you, Tycho..."

Tycho sat in his chair, staring in the direction of his commanding officer and best friend. He was certain that his ears were playing tricks on him or perhaps that he had returned to the brain washing facility at Lusankya.

"C-come again?" Tycho stammered in disbelief.

"No, I COME NOW!" Wedge screamed as he stood from his chair and ripped off all his clothes. His lightsaber was ignited and at the ready.

"What the fuck!?" exclaimed Tycho, rolling out of his own chair and leaping some distance back.

"Fuck is exactly right, Captain. My S-Foil is locked in the attack position. I must fire it and you're the target!" Wedge had a crazy gleam in his eye.

Tycho was crouched at the far end of the room wondering how their conversation had escalated so quickly to this, really at how it had gotten to this at all. But as he stared at Wedge and the magnificent blaster he was brandishing, Tycho began to realize that he too had wanted this. He knew that he'd always had a close friendship with Wedge, but it always felt different from the other friendships he had formed over his life. The connection he had with Wedge was something more and it took Wedge's tremendous clothes shredding strength for Tycho to realize it.

Slowly, Tycho began to rise from his crouching position. He made his way over to the chiseled nakedness of Wedge's form, stripping his own clothes as he walked across the floor.

"Wedge... I didn't realize it until now, but..." Tycho leaned in towards Wedge's ear and whispered, "I love you too."

Tycho grabbed the hilt of Wedge's lightsaber and began stroking it as Wedge kissed the nape of Tycho's neck. Suddenly, the door opend and in walked Admiral Ackbar.

"You can't withstand firepower of this magnitude," said the fish-like Mon Calamari, who's own member was quite clearly in attack formation.

Tycho and Wedge let go of their embrace and crawled over towards the Admiral so that his blaster canon was twitching in their faces.

"It smells like fish," said Wedge as he gave it a furtive glance.

"Let's see if it tastes like fish," responded Tycho.

Tycho took the business end of the Admiral's gun into his mouth and...

Okay, FUCK this shit. I can't do it. It's not my style. Let's back up a few paragraphs.

There was a chime at the door. Tycho got up and opened it; there stood Wedge. "Hey, man. Let's get some beers," said Wedge. "Alright, Commander". Tycho and Wedge got super drunk at a bar. The next day in an explosion of testosterone, they kicked the Imperials asses and immediately after fucked a hundred bitches each.

THE END