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“Well, when you’re in CorSec, you see enough death that you have to joke about it or it grinds you down. Besides, watching Loor read the fictional reports and react to them was funny.”

“Then he would find Gil Bastra’s death file amusing, I take it?”

Corran’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

The droid’s head became level. “There is a notice of Gil Bastra’s death. It came when I asked for the data on all the names with the report.”

“That can’t be.”

“Oh, I’m afraid it is, sir.” Emtrey’s head tilted to the left. “It was appended to Imperial holonet transmission #A34920121.”

The pilot shook his head, wishing he didn’t feel so hollow inside. Gil, dead? “No, I don’t believe it. Gil can’t be dead.”

The Twi’lek eased Corran down onto the bench. “How reliable is the report of his death?”

The droid’s eyes flickered for a moment. “Answering that question could compromise intelligence-gathering operations.”

“What difference does it make, Nawara?” Corran rubbed both hands over his face. “It was reliable enough to be put out on the holonet.”

Nawara smiled carefully, though the sight of his sharp peg teeth carried with it a hint of menace. “No, Corran, the report of a death went out on the holonet. That says nothing about the reliability of the information upon which the report was based. That report could have been based on something your Gil did, or even something this Loor did to get at you.”

He’s right. “You must have been one grand lawyer to spot that sort of inconsistency.”

The Twi’lek slapped Corran on the shoulder. “You would have hated me if you were trying to make a case against one of my clients—whether he was lying about his innocence or not. So, Emtrey, how reliable is this report? Are there other reports that corroborate it?”

“I have no related reports.”

“It wouldn’t make any difference if you did, at least not any that came out of Corellian Security Force files. Gil had full access to the database. The same way he created new identities for my partner, her husband, himself, and me, he would have entered everything to make it look good. He really went all out—we had temporary identities that let us travel to the worlds where he had created solid identities we could hide behind. At my last destination he had me working as an aide for the local Military Prefect.”

Rhysati gave Corran a hard stare with her hazel eyes. “So are you saying you aren’t Corran Horn?”

“No, I am Corran Horn. I used the identities Gil made for me when I ran and hid, but I joined the Rebellion as myself.” Corran took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “Look, what I’ve told you about myself is true, but I haven’t told you everything. It’s not that I haven’t trusted you, but a lot of it I didn’t want to talk about. I …”

The blond woman reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, we all have bad memories.”

“Thanks, Rhys.” Corran’s chest felt tight, but as he spoke he could feel some of the tension ease. “There was a lot of bad blood between Loor and me, and knowing I was going to head out, I really started defying him. He decided to have me dealt with. On what I thought would be my last assignment I drew an X-wing from the pool of craft we’d captured and converted to CorSec use. I was supposed to pull a surprise inspection on small-time smugglers who were coming in-system. Whistler and I mounted up—the R2 had served as my partner in the field and had all the new identity files Gil had made up for me. Unbeknownst to Loor, Whistler also had already computed a number of jumps from Corellia since I had planned to take him with me when I left.

“Where the smugglers were supposed to be I found debris and two flights of TIEs looking for trouble. I illuminated a couple with my lasers, then jumped out. That’s the start of a long story about how and why I’m here now.”

Emtrey looked down at him, his eyes glowing like stars in his black face. “Sir, do you have copies of the identity files for Mr. Bastra and the others?”

“Nope. Gil was the only person with a complete set and I’m sure he destroyed