Corran Horn."
"Gladly." Wedge looked around, caught Corran's eye,
and waved him over. Corran headed in their direction with
Mirax on his arm and Qlaern Hirf following them like a
shadow. "Luke Skywalker, it is an honor to present to you
Lieutenant Corran Horn, Mirax Terrik, and Qlaern Hirf.
This is Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and founder of Rogue
Squadron."
Corran smiled and shook Luke's hand. "I'm very
pleased to meet you, sir. One of the first things Commander
Antilles ever said to me was that I was 'no Luke Skywalker.'
You set a very high standard for all of us to shoot for."
"Not my intention, but I'm not averse to being used as a
motivational tool." Luke smiled, then shook Mirax's hand.
"What you and Qlaern Hirf have done to save lives here on
Coruscant is worthy of much praise and even more thanks."
Mirax shrugged. "I'm strictly transport, sir, Qlaern did
the hard work."
Luke shot a glance back at Wedge. "A Corellian smug-
gler without an attitude?"
Wedge shrugged. "She's smarter than most."
Mirax laughed. "No profit in bragging, only working."
"Indeed." The Jedi held a hand up and brushed it along
the Vratix's arm as Qlaern touched his face. "Our thanks to
you for creating rylca."
"Verachen is what we are. Our joy is in our success."
"And your success will make many people very happy."
Luke withdrew his arm--forestalling introductions to the
rest of the squadron as they crowded around--and, for a
moment, his dark cloak closed around his body. When his
hands again emerged from beneath the garment, he extended
a slender silver cylinder toward Corran. "This belongs to
you, I believe."
"No, sir. I returned it to the Museum, and the Jedi
Credit, too." Corran tapped his breastbone. "I borrowed
them when escaping from there and returned them when
everything calmed down."
"I know that, Lieutenant Horn." Luke's hand remained
halfway between them with the lightsaber held loosely in his
grip. "What I mean is that this lightsaber belongs to you.
They're often passed down from one family member to an-
other."
Cotran frowned. "I think you're making a mistake here.
That lightsaber belonged to a Jedi named Nejaa Halcyon. It
should go to his family."
"So it shall." Luke advanced it toward him. "Nejaa Hal-
cyon was your grandfather."
What? Luke's remark, spoken in a low, calm voice, sur-
prised Wedge as much as it seemed to surprise Corran. "Cor-
ran, you never said anything about your grandfather being a
Jedi Knight."
"He wasn't. My grandfather was Rostek Horn. He
worked for the Corellian Security Force. He wasn't a Jedi.
He once partnered with one--liaised with him so CorSec
could work with the Jedi on things on Coreilia--but that was
it." Corran unfastened his tunic at the neck and pulled out
the medallion he wore. He unclasped the gold chain and
gathered the Jedi medallion in his right hand. "The Jedi on
this medallion may have been his friend, but he wasn't my
grandfather."
Luke's voice remained even. "Your father was Hal
Horn?"
'Yes."
"And his given name was Valin Horn."
"Yes, but everyone called him Hal." Corran blinked.
"You don't think that was a rhyme for part of his name, do
you? You think that was short for Halcyon, right?"
"What I think, Corran, is that Nejaa Halcyon died in the
Clone Wars, and his friend, Rostek Horn, was there to sup-
port Nejaa's widow and son through the tragedy. Rostek
married your grandmother and adopted your father." Luke
frowned momentarily. "When the Emperor began to hunt
down the Jedi and kill them, Rostek Horn, given his position
in CorSec, managed to change records so that Nejaa's family
was hidden from Imperial scrutiny. You and I are alike in
that we come from families with a strong Jedi tradition, yet
neither of us were aware of our heritage until later."
Luke reached out and took Corran's right hand in his
left. He pressed the lightsaber into it and closed Corran's
fingers around the shaft. "You may want to consider findin g
this lightsaber a coincidence or luck, but there's no such
thing. I'll have you know that of the other two-dozen light-
sabers in those rooms, only three worked without recharg-
ing, and this one had lain in a case far longer than any of the
others."
"You mean my grandfather wasn't my grandfather?"
"Oh, he was very much your grandfather. He accepted
the responsibility for directing you and your father into the
sort of life that would honor Nejaa Halcyon and insulate you
from the dark side of the Force. It was a difficult and coura-
geous thing for him to do, and clearly he did it well." Luke
smiled. "In fact, he did it very well. So well, in fact, I have an
offer to make you. For thirty generations the Jedi Knights
safeguarded the galaxy, and the Emperor was only able to
succeed in our absence. I am dedicating my life to reestab-
lishing the Jedi Knights. I want you to join me. Come with
me. Train and learn with me. Become a Jedi Knight."
Wedge felt something hollow open up inside his gut in
the wake of the hushed gasps of the rest of the squadron. He
instantly recognized the void--I'm jealous! That surprised
him for a moment, then he realized how the emotion had
been born. Luke had always been a special friend, but as he
had grown into his heritage as a Jedi Knight, distance had
formed between them. They still got along well and had a
great time in each other's company, but Wedge's inability to
understand what it was to be a Jedi also forced them apart.
Now someone who does not know him as well as I do,
someone he barely knows at all, is being offered the chance
to learn about a side of Luke I can never know.
Corran lifted the lightsaber up in front of his face. "You
want me to become a Jedi Knight?"
"Yes. Together we can make certain no more Emperors
can rise up to enslave a galaxy. Everything you were raised to
do within CorSec you will be able to do in the whole of the
New Republic. The Empire is but one manifestation of the
Force's dark side and we will stand as a buffer between it and
good people everywhere."
Mirax hugged Corran's left arm. "A Jedi Knight. This is
quite an honor."
Corran shook his head. "No."
Wedge nodded at him. "Oh, it is quite an honor, Cor-
ran, one I envy you."
"You're not hearing what I'm saying." Corran's head
came up. "I realize it's an honor to be asked to train and
become a Jedi Knight. Believe me I do, but my answer is no."
Borsk Fey'lya's jaw dropped open. "No?"
"No." Corran frowned. "I have things I have to do. Erisi
and Iceheart have crimes to pay for."
Luke's cloak closed around him and his face became
impassive.
"Beware revenge, Corran. Such black emotions
open the way to the dark side of the Force."
"This isn't about revenge." Corran shook his head and
pain washed over his face. "It's about obligations I have to
people. People who helped me, other prisoners were on the
Lusankya when it blasted out of here. I promised them I'd
come back for them. Well, we know where they are
Thyferra. It's time we go get them."
Wedge nodded. "We clearly cannot leave Ysanne Isard
and Fliry Vorru in charge of the galaxy's bacta supply. We're
producing rylca now and might be able to produce some
bacta later, but that'll never be enough. We're going to have
to go after Iceheart, and I'd prefer it to be sooner rather than
later."
Borsk Fey'lya's fur rippled. "But, in fact, Commander
Antilles, your quest will never take place." "What?"
The Bothan clasped his hands together at his waist.
"The Provisional Council will never sanction an operation
against Thyferra. We have your orders to join the Mon
Remonda and head out after Warlord Zsinj."
"Those orders were issued before Iceheart escaped with
Erisi and Fliry Vorru. It was before she took Thyferra. We
can't be expected to follow those orders." Wedge stared dis-
believing at the Bothan Councilor. "That's not right."
"Oh, it is quite right, Commander. Remember, the peo-
ple of Thyferra overthrew their own government and in-
stalled Ysanne Isard as their leader. This makes the
revolution there nothing more than a case of internal politi-
cal maneuvering."
A cold chill ran down Wedge's spine. "And the Provi-
sional Council cannot allow itself or its agents to interfere in
the internal politics of a world, because that would frighten
off potential member states from joining the New Republic."
"It might even convince some others to leave and break
the New Republic apart." Borsk Fey'lya glanced at Corran
Horn. "You might as well accept the Jedi's offer because
your unit can do nothing on Thyferra. Rogue Squadron has
other duties now."
Corran arched an eyebrow at the Bothan. "Okay, I
quit."
The fur on the back of Fey'lya's neck rose like a rocket.
"You cannot. Antilles, talk sense into him."
Wedge snorted. "l've heard sense, and it's coming from
him." Fey'lya's tone of voice had told Wedge there was no
way he could advance the Vratix case before the Council.
The Vratix were the backbone of the Ashern, the native inde-
pendence movement on Thyferra and Isard's only opposi-
tion. His proposing that the Provisional Council back the
Vratix and their claims to self-determination would meet
with equal enthusiasm as any other idea about interfering
with Thyferran internal politics. I promised Qlaern I'd do
what I could for its people, but the New Republic is prevent-
ing me from keeping that promise.
Wedge rubbed a hand along his jaw. "I joined this Re-
bellion to fight the Empire's tyranny. Just because we have
Coruscant doesn't mean it's ended. The New Republic might
not be able to strike at Thyferra, but there are Rebels around
who can." He smiled. "I quit, too."
Borsk Fey'lya turned to his left. "It would appear, Cap-
tain Celchu, that Rogue Squadron is now your command."
"I don't think so." Tycho shook his head. "It's been a
long time since I've been a civillian. I'm out as well."
Corran's Gand wingman rested a hand on Corran's
shoulder. "Ooryl resigns."
"Nawara and I are out," Rhysati Ynr chimed in.
Gavin smiled. "I quit, too."
Aril Nunb, Inyri Forge, and Riv Shiel all nodded in
agreement. "We're out."
Asyr Sei'lar slipped in under Gavin's arm. "I resign."
Borsk Fey'lya stiffened. "You're a Bothan. You cannot."
"I'm a Rogue. It is done."
The Bothan councilor snarled. "You can't do this. You
have no ships."
"Begging your pardon, Councilor, but I never signed my
X-wing over to the Rebellion. I have a ship."
"Very well for you, Lieutenant Horn, but no one else
does." Borsk Fey'lya's amethyst eyes burned with fury. "The
rest of you have no resources for getting ships. One X-wing
and some broken-down tramp freighter will take on a Super
Star Destroyer?"
Mirax shot him a nasty glance. "The Skate isn't broken
down. They need ships, I can find them." "And pay for them with what?"
Tycho smiled. "As I recall, the New Republic made a
great deal of noise about a number of bank accounts belong-
ing to me with a significant amount of credits in them."
"That money was supplied by Isard to frame you."
"So much the better to use it against her, wouldn't you
say?"
"This is insanity! You cannot do this." Borsk Fey'lya
raked his fur back down into place. "Jedi Skywalker, con-
vince them of their folly. They will fail if they try."
"As my master told me, there is no try one can only do
or do not." Luke nodded solemnly. "It seems, Wedge, those
are your choices."
"No choice at all, Luke." Wedge smiled broadly.
"We're, ah, we were Rogue Squadron. We do."
Michael A. Stackpole, Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap
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