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    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
   into a symbol--a symbol the New Republic needed badly.
   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
   struck at the non-humans in the Rebellion and was hard
   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.
   

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