Wedge, not particularly thrilled about the stack of reports he needed to fill out on his desk, walked to the window that looked out at the training room.
He might be avoiding reports, but he was absolutely dreading the notification letters he would have to write to the families of the pilots they lost during the Starkiller base attack.
Poe slouched in, quite hungover from the late-night pilot celebration party the evening before.
Oh, to be young again.
Poe opened the hatch of the nearest simulator, eyes still half closed.
A screeched oath split the air and Poe's head reared back, eyes bugging as he dissolved into a jumble of uncontrollable laughter and furious curses.
Curious now, Wedge stepped out of his office and made his way over to where the pilot was running a hand down his face and half-chuckling, half-groaning. Seeing his trainer, Poe took a step out of the way to let Wedge have a look.
One glance was all it took.
There sat Kettch, smiling up at him.
It dragged an unwilling smile to Wedge's own face, and he shook his head once before retreating to his office.
He glanced out the window one more time to discover Poe pulling the stuffed Ewok out of the cockpit, a gleam of revenge and mischief in the young pilot's eyes.
“Janson,” Wedge groaned with a fond sigh. There's one who's never growing up.
Though he wasn't sure if he meant Wes or Poe.
Either way, as he sat at his desk again, he found a small measure of his burden had lifted, leaving him ready to face the soul battles of the morning.