Rogue Squadron (36 page)

“Don’t say that.” Her voice dropped to near a whisper and a tear formed in the corner of her right eye. “Worse than dying on this mission will be surviving it here. If the mission fails, if you don’t come
back, I’ll be left wondering if I could have made a difference.”

“Dying out there might be less emotionally trying, but I don’t think it’s the lesser of two evils here.”

She brushed the tear away. “You’re correct, of course, and I’m being selfish.” Erisi stopped and turned to face him. “Doesn’t it bother you that you don’t even know the name of the world where you could die?”

Actually, I do know the name of the world. Wedge and I are the only ones, though I don’t think that makes this mission any easier
. “To be honest, Erisi, I hadn’t given it that much thought. The Imps there want me dead, and I don’t feel too friendly toward them, either.
Where
we end up fighting isn’t all that important to me.”

“It’s important to me.” She began walking again. Her hand moved up to the inside of his elbow and guided him forward. “If things go badly I thought I would visit or make sure a memorial was raised. I …”

Erisi’s voice broke and Corran felt a shudder run through her. “Hey, Erisi, it’s all going to be fine. Remember when the Commander warned us that we’d never be able to be greater heroes than the folks who have already died in service to Rogue Squadron?”

“Yes,” she sniffed.

“Well, he was wrong. We
can
be bigger, but only by living longer and doing better than they ever did. As he was saying just now, in those days they fought for survival. We’re fighting for the future. If we do this right, Biggs and the rest won’t be remembered as Rogue Squadron’s greatest heroes, but the
predecessors
to Rogue Squadron’s greatest heroes.”
Corran gave her a strong smile. “I’m planning on sticking around to make that prediction come true.”

Erisi smiled, but the corners of her mouth trembled. “You probably will do that, Corran. I hope it is so. I just wish I knew where the rest of you were going. You aren’t the least bit curious?”

“Maybe for my memoirs, sure.” Corran reached up and wiped tears from her cheeks. “They’ll declassify the operation in fifty years or so—just in time for me to include the location in my autobiography.”

“Even if I had to wait fifty years, I’d have a memorial built for you.” Erisi paused before the open door to her quarters. “Corran, you know Rhysati isn’t going to be coming back here this evening. You can stay here, if you wish.”

“I shouldn’t, Erisi.”

“Are you certain?” The disappointment in her voice twisted into forced levity. “Think of it as a chapter for your memoirs.”

“I have no doubt it would take two chapters.” Corran sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I’d get no sleep.
That
would kill me. I’d die happy, but I’m afraid our compatriots would not.”

Erisi nodded slowly and looked down. “I understand.”

I’ve got to be insane. I’ve said “no” to one of the most desirable women I’ve ever met
. Corran smiled.
Of course I’m crazy, I volunteered to go back to Borleias
.

“Why the smile?”

Corran stroked her cheek. “I was thinking you’re ample incentive for me to do everything I can to return.”

Erisi leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. “Then if you do not return, I shall feel horrible for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t have that, can I?”

“Certainly not.” She kissed him again, then slowly pulled away from him. “Sleep well tonight, Corran Horn, and fly the best you ever have tomorrow.”

The door to her quarters closed and Corran turned to backtrack to the hallway leading to the billet he shared with Ooryl.
Though with Ooryl staying in the med station so they can monitor his arm, I’ll be all alone
.

A jolt of fear ran through him and he almost turned around and went back to Erisi. Since his father’s death he had spent a lot of time alone. It wasn’t that they had been in each other’s constant company, but just knowing he could speak with his father, and that his father would understand his problems, meant he didn’t have to face them without help. Unlike most of the folks he knew, he got along well with his father. They had their occasional fights, but nothing that ripped apart the fabric of their relationship. That relationship, strengthened by mutual grief when Corran’s mother died, weathered all adversity and just grew stronger.

They’d always been like paired banthas yoked to the same gravsledge. Together there had been nothing they could not accomplish. He realized that since his father’s death, he’d been trying to go forward as much as possible, but without his father being there, he had a hard time figuring out exactly which way
was
forward. Gil Bastra had tried to help him out, and had been very effective, but since leaving CorSec, Corran had been without a moral compass.
Actually, I’ve had the moral compass, but I was so used to checking it against my father’s feelings on things, that I’m not certain it’s still calibrated correctly
.

Deep down he knew his father would have supported his decision to join the Rebellion, but his approval
would have been harder to earn. Corran felt fairly certain he could have earned it, too, but death prevented him from knowing his father was still proud of him. He knew his father would have thought the mission to Borleias was stupid and needlessly dangerous, but he would have also been one of the first to volunteer for it.

“I guess, old man, you really aren’t gone.” Corran fingered his medallion. “I’ve got your sense of duty and your good luck charm. Definitely puts me ahead of the game.”

Corran opened the door to his quarters and hit the light switch. He’d already unzipped his flight suit from throat to navel before he noticed the blanket-shrouded lump on Ooryl’s bunk stir. “How did you get in here?”

Mirax sat up and scooped long locks of black hair out of her face. “Your Gand friend let me in.”

“Where did you run into him?”

“Med-station. Coolant pump went in the
Skate
and flooded the ventilation system. My droid is locking it down, but I got a lungful. He was there and recognized me. The Emdees declared me healthy, but I couldn’t go back to the
Skate
, and with you staging for an operation, there’s scant free space here. Since he’s staying with the doc droids, he offered me his billet.” She yawned. “I agreed since I assumed you’d be spending the night with the bacta queen.”

Corran blinked at her. “You did?”

“I saw the look she gave you when I showed up on the
Reprieve
. She could teach the average Hutt a thing or two about possessiveness.”

He didn’t like the smug tone in her voice. “You must have gotten more coolant than you thought.”

“How do you plot that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Hey, Corran, I’d be the first to say Hal Horn’s boy was smarter than Erisi is pretty.”

“But you thought I’d be with her.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, and you’d have been making one if you’d stayed with her.”

Corran shot Mirax a wry grin. “She’s possessive and you’re, what, being
protective?
”

“There are only so many of us out here, Corran.” Mirax plucked at the shoulder of her sleeveless tunic. “She wouldn’t be good for you.”

“And who would? You?”

“In your dreams, CorSec.”

The look of surprise on her face coincided with the remark’s sting in his heart. He wouldn’t have thought so automatic a response, tossed off with the speed of a reflex that had been well exercised, could have bothered him. In his previous career he’d heard the same line delivered hundreds of times, with more and less vehemence, by every creature that ever tried to get its mouth around Basic words. He’d shrugged it off without really hearing it more times than he could count.

The surprised expression she wore told him that she hadn’t meant to speak without thinking. She seemed to be second-guessing her comment as much as he was wondering about the effect it had on him.
The automatic dismissal hurts because I expected to merit something more than that. And she shot back so sharply because I dared suggest she wouldn’t be better for me than Erisi—and her own reaction surprised her!

Corran crossed over and sat at the foot of Ooryl’s bunk. “Look, Mirax, it’s been a long day and tomorrow is going to be tough. I meant no offense.”

“I know. I was picking on someone in your unit. I’m a little mad at the Thyferrans right now. The price of bacta is going up—they’re blaming an Ashern attack on a processing plant. I used to turn a tidy little profit on shipments, but I can’t raise the money to buy a lot. I’m left running foodstuff and parts, which is not the way to get rich.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Sure you do.” She shook her head, all the while smiling. “If I wanted to kill my father I’d send him a holo and tell him Hal Horn’s son said he wished he could help me make some runs.”

“Somewhere in orbit between Corellia and Selonia my father’s ashes are trying to recoalesce to stop me.” He smiled and patted her blanketed knee. “I do mean it, though.”

“I believe you. Wherever you’re going tomorrow, if you run into anyone on the ground who can sign an exclusive import/export deal, think of me and get it on a datacard.”

“If I’m on the ground tomorrow, the only thing that will get exported is me, and I’ll be exported to Kessel.”

“I’ll make you a deal on the spice you dig up.”

“You’re all heart.”

She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “It’s going to be nasty, is it?”

“About the only thing we have going for us is that they don’t know we’re coming.”

“That’s something, then.” Mirax reached out and touched the medallion he wore. “Is that what I think it is?”

“I don’t know. It was my father’s good luck charm.” Corran took it off and passed it to her, complete with the gold chain. “It’s a coin in a collar that lets me put it on a chain. My father used to
keep it in his pocket, but I lose things too easily like that. So what is it that you think it is?”

Mirax turned it over and back in her palm and peered at it closely. “It’s a Jedcred.”

“What?”

She frowned. “Jedcred is what my father used to call them; it comes from Jedi credit. It looks like a coin but was really a commemorative medallion struck when a Corellian Jedi became a Master. A dozen or so would get minted and distributed to family, close friends, the Jedi’s Master, and favored students.”

Corran raised an eyebrow. “How do you know so much about it?”

She smiled sweetly. “Have you forgotten, my dear, that I make my living by bringing that which is ordinarily rare to those who want it? Collectibles like these can fetch a fine price, especially since the Emperor cornered the market on Jedi Knights. How did your father get it?”

“I don’t really know.” He thought for a moment. “I know my grandfather liaised with the Jedi, to coordinate their actions with CorSec and had a good friend among them, but that was back before the Clone Wars. I guess this guy was someone he knew. He did say the only Jedi he knew well died in the Clone Wars.”

She handed it back to him. “I hope it’s a better luck charm for you than it was for the Jedi whose face is on it.”

He refastened it around his neck and relished the sensation of its weight against his breastbone. “You’re not alone in that hope.” He stood and smothered a yawn with his hand. “Sorry, that’s not from talking with you.”

“I know. It’s late and the day’s been exhausting.”

“I’ll get up early to record some messages, but right now I need my sleep.”

“So do I.”

“I’m just going to go over there and lie down.”

“So I imagined.” Mirax lay back down and pulled the blanket up under her chin.

Corran walked over to his bed, sat down, and kicked off his boots. He started to pull off his flight suit but stopped when he noticed she was watching him. “I thought you were going to go to sleep.”

“I am, but I was just wondering …”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you’ll be warm enough tonight?”

Corran peeled his flight suit down to his waist, then snaked it down over the lower half of his body. Her question sounded innocent enough, but the inflection in her voice filled it with all sorts of innuendoes and invitations. Visions of the two of them entwined together in his bed flashed through his mind.

He was tempted. In her arms he could find sanctuary from the loneliness and fear he felt, but what
they
would be doing
he
would be doing for himself.
That wouldn’t be right
.

“Yeah, Mirax, I think I will be warm enough.”

“Oh, good.” Mirax smiled at him as he pulled his sheets over himself. “I just thought I’d ask.”

“Thanks.” He hit the light switch and the room went black.

“Corran?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”

“Quite sure,” he said, regretting each syllable.

“Good.” Mischief shot through her voice. “Then you wouldn’t mind tossing me your spare blanket, would you?”

“Not at all.” He laughed lightly and tossed the blanket from the foot of his bed off into the darkness. “Good night, Ms. Terrik.”

“Sleep tight, Mr. Horn. Tomorrow will be all clear skies and easy shots for you.”

32

Wedge pressed his thumb against the datapad screen offered to him by the Verpine tech, Zraii. “Thanks for getting the auxiliary fuel pods on so quickly. It’s going to mean a lot on this mission.”

The insectoid technician buzzed something at him, prompting Wedge to smile and nod, since he had no idea what the tech was saying. He assumed it had something to do with the ablative sheathes fitted over the nose of the X-wings. It would burn off as they entered Borleias’s atmosphere, giving the snubfighters the appearance of meteorites burning up on entry to observers on the ground. “A very good job, Zraii.”

Over the top of the tech’s head he saw Mirax walk into the hangar with Corran. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then the pilot ran off toward his own green and white X-wing. Mirax watched him go, pulling a Rebel-issue flight jacket more tightly over her shoulders.