conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a story about Squadron, Wraith, Admiral entitled Wraith Squadron.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Wraith Squadron: Wedge Antilles, fresh back from the Bacta War on Thyferra, decides to make a new fighter squadron/commando team.\nWhile pitching the idea to Admiral Ackbar, he proposes a way to build the squadron without any cost to the New Republic: he'll use screw-ups, wash-outs, and pilots who are a hair's breadth of being kicked out of Starfighter Command—the pilots that no one else will take.\nWhilst Rogue Squadron was compiled from elite pilots with ground fighting expertise as a secondary, this new squadron was to be consisted of expert ground combatants with piloting skills as a secondary.\nThey set a trap to ambush the Night Caller, which is so successful that they seize intact security codes and holonet communications with Warlord, and refit the ship to serve as a Trojan Horse for Zsinj.\nAt the end of the plot, the Wraiths are part of a force that attacks Admiral Trigit, destroying his ship.\nOne of the escapees, Gara Petothel, the mastermind behind the destruction of Talon Squadron, assumes a cover identity of Lara Notsil, a prisoner of Trigit.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about \nAntilles, Wes, Janson, During, ambushed.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Wraith Squadron: Wedge Antilles, fresh back from the Bacta War on Thyferra, decides to make a new fighter squadron/commando team. \nWhile pitching the idea to Admiral Ackbar, he proposes a way to build the squadron without any cost to the New Republic: he'll use screw-ups, wash-outs, and pilots who are a hair's breadth of being kicked out of Starfighter Command—the pilots that no one else will take. \nWhilst Rogue Squadron was compiled from elite pilots with ground fighting expertise as a secondary, this new squadron was to be consisted of expert ground combatants with piloting skills as a secondary. \nAntilles, with help from Wes Janson, scrounges up a team that comes to be known as Wraith Squadron: During a routine patrol, the squadron is ambushed by a new invention of Zsinj, EMP/ion mines that leave the whole squadron dead in space. \nThey set a trap to ambush the Night Caller, which is so successful that they seize intact security codes and holonet communications with Warlord, and refit the ship to serve as a Trojan Horse for Zsinj. \nAt the end of the plot, the Wraiths are part of a force that attacks Admiral Trigit, destroying his ship. \nOne of the escapees, Gara Petothel, the mastermind behind the destruction of Talon Squadron, assumes a cover identity of Lara Notsil, a prisoner of Trigit.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Wraith Squadron
  Shigar Konshi followed the sound of blasterfire through Coruscant's old districts. He never stumbled, never slipped, never lost his way, even through lanes that were narrow and crowded with years of detritus that had settled slowly from the levels above. Cables and signs swayed overhead, hanging so low in places that Shigar was forced to duck beneath them. Tall and slender, with one blue chevron on each cheek, the Jedi apprentice moved with grace and surety surprising for his eighteen years.
  At the core of his being, however, he seethed. Master Nikil Nobil's decision had cut no less deeply for being delivered by hologram from the other side of the galaxy.
  The decision had shocked him, but Shigar knew better than to speak. The last thing he wanted to do was convey the shame and resentment he felt in front of the Council.
  His Master silenced him with a gentle but irresistible telepathic nudge. "He is close to attaining full mastery," she assured the Council. "I am certain that it is only a matter of time."
  Master Satele nodded her acceptance of the decision. Shigar bit his tongue. She said she believed in him, so why did she not overrule the decision? She didn't have to submit to the Council. If he weren't her Padawan, would she have spoken up for him then?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It took him two hours to realize that the talks were getting nowhere. It was another hour before Han came to the same conclusion. Or at least was willing to admit it out loud.
  Luke looked at his friend, carefully hiding a smile. It was like the old Han again, the brashly confident smuggler he and Obi-Wan had first met back in the Mos Eisley cantina. Charging cheerfully into unknown situations, and more often than not finding himself up to his neck in trouble. It was nice to know that even as a respectable family man and responsible official of the New Republic, Han hadn't lost all of the recklessness that had once driven his friends almost as crazy as it had the Imperials. Up to his neck in trouble was where Han functioned best. Perhaps, through sheer habit, it was where he was most comfortable.
  Chewbacca rumbled the obvious problem. "Yes, I know we don't have a lot of ships to spare," Luke said. "But the High Council ought to be able to scrounge up something."
  Han shook his head, his eyes darting surreptitiously to Luke's face for a moment, then just as quickly shifting away. "No."
  Luke glanced at Chewbacca, searching for a diplomatic way to say this. But there really wasn't one. "You know, Han, it's not too late to bring Leia in on this. We could call Wayland and ask the Noghri to bring her here."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: It was another hour before Han came to the same conclusion. Or at least was willing to admit it out loud.
  Luke looked at his friend, carefully hiding a smile. It was like the old Han again, the brashly confident smuggler he and Obi-Wan had first met back in the Mos Eisley cantina. Charging cheerfully into unknown situations, and more often than not finding himself up to his neck in trouble. It was nice to know that even as a respectable family man and responsible official of the New Republic, Han hadn't lost all of the recklessness that had once driven his friends almost as crazy as it had the Imperials. Up to his neck in trouble was where Han functioned best. Perhaps, through sheer habit, it was where he was most comfortable.
  Chewbacca rumbled the obvious problem. "Yes, I know we don't have a lot of ships to spare," Luke said. "But the High Council ought to be able to scrounge up something."
  Han shook his head, his eyes darting surreptitiously to Luke's face for a moment, then just as quickly shifting away. "No."
  Luke glanced at Chewbacca, searching for a diplomatic way to say this. But there really wasn't one. "You know, Han, it's not too late to bring Leia in on this. We could call Wayland and ask the Noghri to bring her here."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He returned to the dining room with the weapon in his hand. Not-Mirax, clearly confused and beginning to look a little alarmed, stood by the stove, staring at him.
  Valin positioned the tip of his lightsaber directly beneath her chin. At the distance of half a centimeter, its containing force field kept her from feeling any heat from the blade, but a slight twitch on Valin's part could maim or kill her instantly. She froze.
  In the doorway stood a man, middle-aged, clean-shaven, his hair graying from brown. He was of below-average height, his eyes a startling green. His hands were on his belt, his own lightsaber still dangling from it.
  He was Valin's father, Jedi Master Corran Horn. But he wasn't, any more than the woman behind Valin was Mirax Horn.
  Yet Valin's voice was soft when he spoke. "They may have made you a virtual double for my father. But they can't have given you his expertise with the lightsaber."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Jedi.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He returned to the dining room with the weapon in his hand. Not-Mirax, clearly confused and beginning to look a little alarmed, stood by the stove, staring at him. 
  Valin positioned the tip of his lightsaber directly beneath her chin. At the distance of half a centimeter, its containing force field kept her from feeling any heat from the blade, but a slight twitch on Valin's part could maim or kill her instantly. She froze. 
  In the doorway stood a man, middle-aged, clean-shaven, his hair graying from brown. He was of below-average height, his eyes a startling green. He wore the brown robes of a Jedi. His hands were on his belt, his own lightsaber still dangling from it. 
  He was Valin's father, Jedi Master Corran Horn. But he wasn't, any more than the woman behind Valin was Mirax Horn. 
  Yet Valin's voice was soft when he spoke. "They may have made you a virtual double for my father. But they can't have given you his expertise with the lightsaber. "