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The release of the prisoners from isolation became a cause for celebration that drew officials and important people from all across the New Republic. At the far end of the large reception room, with his back to a massive transparisteel viewport that looked out over the vast expanse of the ship’s prow, General Dodonna stood flanked by Admiral Ackbar and Generals Bel Iblis and Antilles. A constant stream of well-wishers moved past them, exchanging comments, glances, handshakes, and smiles. Dodonna greeted warmly those individuals he recalled from Yavin and before, exuding the warmth and wisdom that had made him the natural leader of the prisoners.

Corran smiled slowly. During his escape attempt from Lusankya, Jan Dodonna had killed a man who tried to stop Corran. The way to freedom was clear and Corran offered to let Dodonna accompany him. Dodonna had refused, knowing that if he escaped, Isard would have wiped out the rest of the prisoners. He traded his freedom for their lives, a sacrifice that earned him two more years of captivity.

I’m not sure I could make that choice. Corran sipped Corellian whiskey. I hope I could, but I don’t know if I’m that good a man.

While everyone around him seemed to be very happy—with Booster’s booming laughter echoing from the far corner of the room—something felt out of place for Corran. The last party I was at, Urlor Sette died, propelling all of us down the path that brought us here.

Friends died and countless people suffered. Through the milling crowd he caught sight of Gavin Darklighter talking with Myn Donos and a couple of other people Corran didn’t recognize. Gavin had a smile on his face, but the way he moved and his short responses told Corran that Asyr’s death still ate away at him. Gavin’s a good man and doesn’t deserve such pain. I’m going to make sure to talk with him, help share the burden. He’s strong, he just needs someone to remind him of that fact.

Wes Janson came over and slapped Corran on the back. “We dress well for dead men, don’t we?”

“Well, better for me this time than the last one.” Corran smiled at him. “But making a habit of being left for dead isn’t a good idea.”

Wes nodded solemnly, though his smile only eroded slightly at the corners of his mouth. “When I thought you guys were all gone …” He shivered for a second and his voice faltered. “Then to see you again, albeit through a transparisteel wall while you were in isolation, you don’t know how happy I was.”

“Oh, I have a clue.” Corran jerked his head toward the front of the room. “My ears are still ringing from the happy whoop Wedge let out. He really couldn’t contain himself.”

“Yeah, and that little Ewok dance of joy is pretty ugly to watch, isn’t it?”

“Watch? I was trying to get my feet out from under his.” Corran and Wes both laughed, then the Corellian pilot gave his friend a nod. “Wish you’d been with us on Ciutric, and I’m very glad to have you back with us now.”

“Yes, active duty beats being dead all hollow.” Wes tossed him a wink, then threaded his way off in Wedge’s direction.

Corran shifted his shoulders to loosen them. Probably going to pull some Ewok prank on Wedge, and Wedge will love hating every minute of it. Turning away from Wes’s departure, Corran smiled as Iella and Mirax cut through the crowd and joined him.

Mirax looked radiant in a long, sleeveless gown worn daringly off one shoulder. The garment appeared black, but a shimmering rainbow of pinpricks channeled light over it and her. She wore her dark hair up, and two tiny diamond studs sparkled from her earlobes.

Iella wore a white gown with a short jacket over it. A single diamond on a platinum chain lay at the hollow of her throat, casting off dazzling light darts as she moved. Her hair had been gathered loosely at the back of her neck with a simple black cord. Her outfit, while not as flashy as Mirax’s, had an elegance to it that matched Iella’s noble bearing.

Mirax slipped her right hand through the crook of Corran’s left arm. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Now I am, yes.