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At his own service. Wedge caught a mischievous glint in Luke’s eyes, as if the Jedi Knight knew what he was thinking.

“It is an honor to meet you, Councilor. The efforts of your people in eliminating the second Death Star and in liberating Coruscant speak to the nobility in the Bothan spirit.”

“You are most kind, Jedi Skywalker.”

Wedge laughed. “That’s just because you’re not a womp rat scurrying down some canyon, Councilor.”

“No chance of his being mistaken for that, Wedge.”

“Ahem, thank you.” Fey’lya smoothed the fur at the back of his head. “Jedi Skywalker, you have made strides in reestablishing the Jedi?”

“Some, though I hope for more.” Luke shrugged almost imperceptibly. “Progress is seldom measured in great leaps except when viewed with hindsight.”

“It is much the same with nation-building.”

“So I can imagine.” Luke nodded, then turned and extended his hand to the male half of the couple walking up. “Tycho, good to see you again, and now out from under suspicion.”

Tycho shook his hand. “Thank you, Luke. I believe you know Winter?”

The Jedi Knight nodded and offered Winter his hand. “My sister’s friend and confidant? We are well acquainted. It seems I speak with her more than I do Leia, especially with my sister off on her embassy to Hapes. How are you doing, Winter?”

“Much better, now that Tycho is free.” Winter slipped her hand from Luke’s and again held Tycho’s hand. “I understand you are spending most of your time in the Museum.”

“True. There is a wealth of material there.” Luke looked over at Wedge. “I was hoping you’d introduce me to this 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 smuggler 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 another.”

Corran 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 Halcyon was your grandfather.”

What? Luke’s remark, spoken in a low, calm voice, surprised Wedge as much as it seemed to surprise Corran. “Corran, you never said anything