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“If you need someone to do the hauling, I’m in, free of charge.”

Corran smiled. “But we won’t tell your father you’re working with a Horn on such a thing.”

“No, I like him alive too much to shock him with that news.” Mirax laughed a bit. “Has the food here on Noquivzor gotten any better than the last time I was here?”

“It actually has. Lots of good things were shipped in for a meeting here last month and Admiral Ackbar left the surplus here. I think Emtrey has traded some of it away, but there are still some surprises. Want to get something to eat?”

“Please.”

They headed off toward the central corridor that eventually sent a branch running down to the mess hall. As they walked along Mirax related some of the odder antics of her Sullustan pilot and his bride to be. The stories were funny, and Corran laughed in all the appropriate places, but he was laughing because of more than the humor in the stories. He realized that with Mirax he felt very much at ease, providing one more reason why he found her attractive.

He knew he wasn’t in love with her, but he knew himself well enough that he’d be poised at the top of that very slippery slope if he just let himself go. Falling in love, for him, had never been one of those one-look-and-passion-ignites things. When that happened to him he knew it was lust, pure and simple. While Mirax was pretty enough to inspire lust, Corran knew things that burned hot burned out fast, and he’d been raised to think relationships should be stable, not supernova events that collapse into an emotional black hole.

The fact was that his father’s murder had cut him adrift emotionally. While he was still with CorSec he had Gil and Iella keeping him pointed in the right direction, but he had only made one new friend during that time, and she left after six months. Then, on the run, he couldn’t get close to people for fear of being unmasked and turned over to Imperial authorities. Even when he joined the Rebellion and applied for admittance to Rogue Squadron, the fierce competition with other pilots to get accepted created a wall. Lujayne Forge had made the first big breech in it, then others exploited that breech and helped him get used to being with people and trusting them again.

“Corran.”

Both he and Mirax stopped at the high-pitched squeal of his name. They turned back as a tall, blocky Gand came down the corridor from behind them. The Gand’s exoskeleton appeared uniform in color except where shadows edged the plates and on his right forearm and hand. There the exoskeleton was much more pale and even chalky. The latter half of the limb matched the left one in length, but was not quite as big around.

Corran pointed at his right arm. “They removed the bacta capsule.”

“Yes. Ooryl is most pleased.” The Gand forced inflections into his Basic, mostly at the right places, and added volume to emphasize his pleasure. Two months before, at the first battle for Borleias, Ooryl Qrygg had been shot out of his X-wing and had lost his right forearm in the process. By circulating bacta through a capsule, Rebel medics had been able to speed up the Gand’s rather remarkable regenerative abilities—abilities no one in the Alliance had known Gands possessed.

Ooryl flexed his three-fingered hand. “Once the carapace hardens, Ooryl will be fit enough to be your wing-Gand again.”

“I can’t wait. Trying to keep up with Captain Nunb is tough. She’s good enough she could fly through a nova and her ship would stay dark.”

Mirax smiled. “We’re going to get food. Do you want to join us?”

“Ooryl would be pleased, but Ooryl was sent by Commander Antilles.” Armored lids flicked down over the Gand’s multifaceted ebon eyes and back up again. “He wants to see you, Corran.”

“Why would he want to see me?” Corran couldn’t remember having done anything unusual. I hope Emtrey doesn’t have Whistler slicing some files for him.

Mirax tugged on Corran’s hand. “Let’s go and get this over with. I can say hi to Wedge, then we can get some food.”

Ooryl