Star Wars_ X-Wing 01_ Rogue Squadron - Michael A. Stackpole [120]
“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.
Mirax and Corran? Perhaps opposites do attract. It struck him that their attraction to each other seemed as improbable as that of Princess Leia to Han Solo. The thought caused a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If they have as many ups and downs as those two …
Mirax walked over to him and watched him through slitted eyes for a second. “Are you borrowing trouble, Wedge?”
“Are you reading my mind?”
“Huh?”
“Nice coat—looks better on you than it does on Corran.”
Mirax smiled, but didn’t blush. “We’re friends. Ooryl offered me his bunk last night and I accepted. Corran and I talked. Nothing happened.” She glanced to the side and noticed Erisi’s approach. “It’s a good thing Corran doesn’t snore—I was able to get some rest.”
Wedge shook his head. “We’re heading out, Mirax. I left a message behind for you and your father, if I don