Free The Bacta War by Michael A. Stackpole Page A

slowly seeped into his heart. It was all too easy for him to imagine his father at the gathering, again hearing his laughter and watching the others react to the stories Hal used to tell. They would have loved him here. And he would have loved being here, too .
    A chill ran down Corran’s spine. The openness of the families twisted like a vibroblade into his guts. His father, Hal Horn, had known his own father, the Jedi Master Nejaa Halcyon. Hal had never told Corran anything about Nejaa. I know he did that to protect me, but I know he had to have been proud of his father. When I told my father that I had “hunches” and he told me to go with them, he knew they were manifestations of my—our—Jedi heritage. That was his quiet way of telling me of his pride, but it must have torn him up to have to remain silent. Perhaps he anticipated telling me about that stuff later, after the Rebels had destroyed the Empire, but he never lived that long .
    Corran absented himself from the gathering, walking up the steps to the surface of the planet. The twin suns had set, letting the day’s heat begin to bleed off into space. The chill creeping into the desert likewise began to gnaw at him. Itfound a willing ally in the sorrow sloshing around in Corran’s guts.
    “Excuse me, Lieutenant Horn, I don’t want to intrude.”
    Corran looked back and saw Jula Darklighter silhouetted against the glow from the pit mansion. “No intrusion, sir. I came from a small family, so this is rather overwhelming.”
    “I came from a big family, and it’s overwhelming.” Jula glanced down at the ground and toed an alkali crust into dust. “I wanted to say thank you for taking care of my son out there.”
    Corran smiled, but shook his head. “Gavin takes care of himself out there.”
    “He said you had confidence in him and that you got another pilot to stop picking on him. He didn’t say it that way, mind you, but he’s not hard to read.”
    Corran laughed lightly. “No, your boy—young man—does tend to digitize and broadcast his emotions. The situation he refers to, though, was one where another pilot, Bror Jace, and I were having a bit of a conflict, and Gavin just happened to find himself in the middle. I’m glad he took heart in my having confidence in him, because I did and do believe in him and his skills, but he needs no protection. You raised a man of whom you can be proud.”
    Jula smiled and nodded, then looked Corran straight in the eyes. “He’s almost ended up like Biggs, hasn’t he?”
    “We’ve all almost ended up like Biggs, sir. The Empire may be in retreat, but there are plenty of folks still willing to fight for them.” Corran raised a hand to his breastbone and unconsciously stroked the Jedi medallion he wore. “Gavin has been wounded and did almost die, but the fact is that he was too tough to die. As a pilot, he’s getting better and better and has vaped his share of the enemy we’ve faced. He’s brave without being stupid. He’s the sort of person who is the Rebellion’s backbone and the reason it has succeeded as well as it has.”
    “What you’re saying, Lieutenant Horn, makes me very proud indeed.” Jula sighed. “It also fortifies me against anticipating the worst. I imagine your parents are equally worried about you and proud of you.”
    Corran frowned. “My parents are dead, sir.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Thank you.”
    Jula jerked a thumb back toward the sounds of the gathering. “This isn’t very easy on you, is it?”
    Corran shrugged. “Compared to an Imperial prison, it’s actually very nice. The trick of it is that there I had a focus for my negative thoughts—the people who had me imprisoned. Here there is no such focus.”
    “Perhaps that means that you should just let your negative thoughts go.” Jula patted him on the shoulder. “Nothing wrong with feeling and acknowledging sorrow and pain, Lieutenant Horn. The crime is letting them hold you prisoner. Come on back, and