DRAMATIS PERSONAE
ROGUE SQUADRON
COMMANDER WEDGE ANTILLES (human male from
CoreIlia)
CAPTAIN Tvcno CELCHU (human male from Alderaan)
CAPTAIN ARIL NUNB (human male from Sullust)
LIEUTENANT CORRAN HORN (human male from CoreIlia)
LIEUTENANT PASH CRACKEN (human male from
Contruum)
OORYL QRYGG (Gand male from Gand)
NAWARA VEN (Twi'lek male from Ryloth)
RHYSATI YNR (human female from Bespin)
ERIS DLARIT (human female from Thyferra)
GAVIN DARKLIGHTER (human male frons Tatooine)
RIV SHIEL (Shistavanen male from Uvena III)
ASYR SEI'LAR (Bothan female from Bothawui)
INYRI FORGE (human female from Kessel)
M-3PO (Emtrey; protocol and regulations druid)
WHISTLER (Corran's R2 astromech)
MYNOCK (Wedge's R5 astromech)
ADMIRAL ACKBAR
Calamari)
ALLIANCE MILITARY
(Mon Calamari male from Mon
ALLIANCE INTELLIGENCE
GENERAL AIREN CRACKEN (buman male from Contruum)
IELLA WESSIRI (human female from CoreUia)
WINTER (human female from Alderaan)
X / D RAMATIS PERSONAE
CITIZENS ON CORUSCANT
FLIRY VORRU (human male from CoreIlia)
Dmic WESSIR1 (human male from CoreIlia)
BORSK FEY'LYA (Bothan male from Bothawui)
HALLA ETrYK (human female from Alderaan)
QLAERN HIRV (Vratix from Thyferra)
CREW OF THE PULSAR SKATE
MIRAX TERR1K (human female from CoreIlia)
LIAT TSAYV (Sullustan male from SullusO
IMPERIAl. FORCES
YSANNE ISARD, DIRECTOR OF IMPERIAl. INTELLIGENCE
(human female from Coruscant)
KInTAN LOOR, INTELLIGENCE AGENT (human male from
Churba)
GENERAL Evm DERRICOTE (human male from Kalla)
Commander Wedge Antilles would have preferred the cere-
mony to be private. Rogue Squadron had come to mourn the
passing of one of its own on the week anniversary of his
death. Wedge wanted the gathering to be small and intimate,
with Corran Horn's friends all being able to share remem-
brances of him, but that was not possible. Corran's death
had come during the liberation of Coruscant. That made him
a hero from a company of heroes, and while a small memo-
rial might have been what Corran himself would have
wanted, it was not heroic enough for a figure of his posthu-
mous stature.
Even though Wedge had known things would not go
quite the way he wanted, he had not anticipated how out of
control they would get when he requested permission to hold
the ceremony. He had expected a number of dignitaries
would come to the pseudogranite barrow that marked where
Corran had died when a building collapsed on top of him.
He even anticipated people lining the balconies and walk-
ways of nearby towers. At the very Worst he imagined people
might gawk from the beds of hovertrucks.
His imagination paled beside that exercised by the bu-
reaucrats who organized the memorial service. They took a
2 / STAR WARS X-WING THE KVTOS TRAP / 3
ceremony based on heartfelt grief and made it into the focal
point of mourning for the entire New Republic. Corran
Horn was a hero--this they proclaimed loudly--but he was
also a victim. As such he represented all the victims of the
Empire. It didn't matter to them that Corran would have
rejected being labeled a victim. He had been transformed
Rogue Squadron likewise underwent iconization. The
unit's pilots had always worn orange flightsuits in the past,
or, as supplies became harder and harder to find, whatever
had been handy. Corran's flightsuit had been green, black,
and grey, since he'd brought it with him from the Corellian
Security Force. In homage to him, that color scheme was
used to create new uniforms for the squadron evergreen
overall, with dark grey flank panels, black sleeves, leg stripes,
and trim. On the left sleeve and breast rode the Rogue
Squadron crest. It had also appeared on the evergreen
hawkbilled caps designed by a Kuati, but Wedge had vetoed
their addition to the uniform.
The makeup of the Squadron had also been adjusted.
Asyr Sei'lar, a Bothan pilot, and Inyri Forge, the sister of a
dead squadron member, had both been added to the squad-
ron. Wedge would have gladly welcomed them, and they had
been crucial to the success of the mission to liberate Corus-
cant, but they had been pressed upon him for political rea-
sons. Likewise, Portha, a Trandoshan, had been made a
member of the squadron despite his inability to fly. He was
attached to the unit as part of a previously nonexistent secu-
rity detail. Each of them was appointed by bureaucrats as a
reward to various constituencies in the New Republic, and
Wedge hated their objectification.
The ceremony grew out of all proportion until special
grandstands had to be grafted to the nearby buildings and
color-coded for the various levels of access people were to be
accorded. Holocams had been stationed at various positions
so the ceremony could be recorded and replayed on countless
worlds. Despite the very real fears about contracting the
highly contagious Krytos virus, the stands were packed to
overflowing.
He looked up from his position on the reviewing stand
and out at Rogue Squadron. His people were bearing up well
despite the bright sunlight and unseasonably warm weather.
The recent rains had raised the general level of humidity until
clothing clung and the very air lay like a smothering blanket
over everyone. The thick air seemed to deaden sounds and
suppress emotions, and Wedge was tempted to allow himself
to imagine that Coruscant somehow also mourned Corran's
passing.
In addition to the members of Rogue Squadron, Cor
ran's other friends stood on the platform nearest the barrow.
Iella Wessiri, a slender, brown-haired woman who had been
Corran's CorSec partner, stood next to Mirax Terrik. De-
spite being the daughter of a notorious Corellian smuggler,
Mirax had managed to become friends with Corran. Mirax,
who had known Wedge since they had both been kids, had
tearfully confided in him that she and Corran had planned to
celebrate the liberation of Coruscant together. He could see
she'd fallen hard for Corran, and the lifeless expression on
her face made his heart ache.
The only one who is missing is Tycbo. Wedge frowned.
Captain Tycho Celchu was a long-standing member of
Rogue Squadron who had served as the squadron's executive
officer. He'd surreptitiously joined the mission to Cor
uscant
at Wedge's request and had been instrumental in bringing the
planet's defenses down. His action was the latest in a string
of heroic missions Tycho had carried off during his Rebel
career.
Unfortunately, Alliance Intelligence had developed evi-
dence that indicated Tycho was working for the Empire.
They blamed him directly not only for Corran's death, but
for the death of Bror Jace, another Rogue Squadron pilot
who had died early on in the Coruscant campaign. Wedge
had not been fully apprised of what the evidence was that
they had against Tycho, but he did not doubt the man's inno-
cence for a second. Still, his innocence might mean nothing
in the long run.
In spite of the liberation, Coruscant was not a pleasant
or stable world. A hideous epidemicrathe Krytos virus--was
ravaging the non-human population of the planet. It had
enough on some species that even coming down to the planet
was an act of extreme bravery. Bacta, as usual, could cure
the virus, but the Rebellion's entire store of bacta was insuffi-
cient to cure everyone. This resulted in panic, and resentment
against humans for their apparent immunity to the disease.
The memorial service had become an important event
because Coruscant's population needed something to unite
them and to get their minds off their suffering, even if only
for a moment. The fact that Rogue Squadron had humans
and non-humans working together in it showed the strength
of unity that had allowed the Rebellion to prevail. Non-
humans coming together along with dignitaries from various
other worlds to mourn a dead human acknowledged the debt
the Rebels owed humans. Speakers devoted themselves to
exhorting their fellows to labor together in building a future
that would justify the sacrifices made by Corran and others.
Their words raised things to a philosophical or metaphysical
level meant to soothe away the anxieties and worries of the
citizens.
Those were noble messages, to be certain, but Wedge felt
they were not the right messages for Corran. He tugged on
the sleeves of his uniform jacket as a Bothan protocol subal-
tern waved him forward. Wedge stepped up to the podium
and wanted to lean heavily upon it. Years of fighting and
saying good-bye to friends and comrades weighed him
down--but he refused to give in to fatigue. He let his pride in
the squadron and his friendship with Corran keep him up-
right.
He looked around at the crowd, then focused on the
mound of pseudogranite rubble before him. "Corran Horn
does not rest easy in that grave." Wedge paused for a mo-
ment, and then another, letting the silence remind everyone
of the true purpose of the ceremony. "Corran Horn was
never at ease except when he was fighting. He does not rest
easy now because there is much fighting yet to be done. We
have taken Coruscant, but anyone who assumes that means
the Empire is dead is as mistaken as Grand Moff Tarkin was
in his belief that Alderaan's destruction would somehow
cripple the Rebellion."
Wedge brought his head up. "Corran Horn was not a
man who gave up, no matter what the odds. More than once
he took upon himself the responsibility of dealing with a
threat to the squadron and to the Rebellion. Heedless of his
own safety, he engaged overwhelming forces and by sheer
dint of will and spirit and courage he won through. Even
here, on Coruscant, he flew alone into the heart of a storm
that was ravag ing a planet and risked his life so this world
would be free. He did not fail, because he would not let
himself fail.
"Each of us who knew him has, in our hearts, dozens
and dozens of examples of his bravery or his concern for
others, or his ability to see where he was wrong and correct
himself. He was not a perfect man, but he was a man who
sought to be the best he could be. And while he took pride in
being very good, he didn't waste energy in displays of ram-
pant egotism. He just picked out new goals and drove him-
self forward toward them."
Wedge slowly nodded toward the rubble pile. "Corran is
now gone. The burdens he bore have been laid down. The
responsibilities he shouldered have been abandoned. The ex-
ample he set is no more. His loss is tragic, but the greater
tragedy would be letting him be remembered as a faceless
hero mouldering in this cairn. He was a fighter, as all of us
should be. The things he took upon himself might be enough
to crush down any one person, but we all can accept a por-
tion of that responsibility and bear it together. Others have
talked about building a future that would honor Corran and
the others who have died fighting the Empire, but the fact is
that there's fighting yet to be done before the building can
begin.
"We have to fight the impatience with the pace of
change that makes us look nostalgically on the days of the
Empire. Yes, there might have been a bit more food avail-
able. Yes, power outages might have been fewer. Yes, you
might have been insulated from the misery of others--but at
what cost? The security you thought you had froze into an
icy lump of fear in your gut whenever you saw stormtroopers
walking in your direction. With the liberation of Coruscant
that fear can melt, but if you forget it once existed and decide
things were not so bad under the Emperor, you'll be well on
your way to inviting it back."
He opened his hands to take in all those assembled at the
monument. "You must do what Corran did fight anything
and everything that would give the Empire comfort or secu-
rity or a chance to reassert itself. If you trade vigilance for
complacency, freedom for security, a future without fear for
comfort; you will be responsible for shaping the galaxy once
again into a place that demands people like Corran fight,
always fight and, eventually, fall victim to evil.
"The choice, ultimately, devolves to you. Corran Horn
will not rest easy in his grave until there is no more fighting
to be done. He has done everything he could to fight the
Empire; now it is up to you to continue his fight. If he is ever
to know peace, it will only be when we all know peace. And
that is a goal every one of us knows is well worth fighting
for."
Wedge stepped back from the podium and steeled him-
self against the polite applause. Deep down he would have
hoped his words had been inspiring, but those gathered
around the memorial were dignitaries and officials from
worlds throughout the New Republic. They were politicians
whose goal was to help shape the future others of their num-
ber spoke about. They wanted stability and order as a foun-
dation for their constructions. His words, reminding
everyone that fights were yet to be waged, undercut their
efforts. They had to applaud because of the situation and
who he was, but Wedge had no doubt most of them thought
him a politically naive warrior best suited to being a hero
who was feted and used in holograph opportunities to sup-
port this program or that.
He could only hope that others listening to what he had
to say would take his message to heart. The politicians re-
quired stability, and the way they acquired stability was to
ignore instability or patch it over with some quick fix. The
citizens of the New Republic would find their politicians as
distant as the Imperial politicians before them. With their
new-won freedom, the people would be able to let their lead-
ers know what they thought, and might be tempted to pro-
test if things did not move swiftly enough in the direction the
people wanted.
A rebellion against the Rebellion would result in anar-
chy or a return of the Empire. Either would be disaster.
Fighting for progress and against reactionary forces was the
only way to guarantee the New Republic would get a chance
to flourish. Wedge dearly wanted that to happen and hoped
the politicians would look past their efforts to gather power
to themselves long enough to take steps to provide real sta-
bility and a real future.
Over at the grave site an honor guard raised the squad-
ron flag, then backed away and saluted. That signaled an end
to the ceremony, and the visitors began to drift away. A
cream-furred Bothan with violet eyes crossed to where
Wedge stood and nodded ahnost graciously. "You were quite
eloquent, Commander Antilles." Borsk Fey'lya waved a
hand toward the departing masses. "I have no doubt quite a
few hearts were stirred by your words."
Wedge raised an eyebrow. "But not yours, Councilor
Fey'lya ?"
The Bothan snoted a clipped laugh. "If I were so easily
swayed, l could be convinced to back all sorts of nonsense."
"Like the trial of Tycho Celchu?"
Fey'lya's fur rippled and rose at the back of his neck.
"No, I might be convinced that such a trial was not neces-
sary." He smoothed the fur back down with his right hand.