This is a work of fan fiction. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No insult is intended and no profits were made from this story.

by Arwen

Kirney Slane at the café table dejectedly and stirred her cold stimtea. Sigh. Will he ever come to see his Kirney? Or not? Am I even his Kirney at all? Or am I Kirney at all? Or am I Gara? Or Lara? Who am I?! She'd sent the message to Myn six months ago, and still nothing. No Myn walking up the Corsairs Street, Corona City, Corellia. No "Hi, I'll be there in a little bit." No "What makes you think that I will ever come see a bitch like you?!" Not even a "I got your message" from him. Nothing from any of the Wraiths either. In a way, she wasn't surprised that none of them had sent her anything. If they thought anything of her, it was probably "that traitor who strung us along." Sigh.

Something Myn-shaped caught the corner of her eye. Eagerly she swung her head around, hoping, praying. But no, it wasn't Myn, it was another man, shorter, and blond. Kirney frowned, because something about the man was familiar. Had she seen him before? Something about him reminded her of Corran Horn, the Rogue Squadron pilot. But no, that couldn't be him. Horn wasn't blond, he was brown haired. And he didn't have a goatee, either. But still…there was something about him that reminded her of him.

Bored, Kirney watched the man as he sat down the next table over and ordered a Whyren's Reserve. That's always what Horn drank…but lots of people drink Whyren's Reserve Corellian whiskey. Hmm. He was obviously waiting for someone. In a few minutes, an older man approached and sat opposite him. The two men entered into a low voiced conversation. Kirney heard a few words, "Jedi," "your father," "Nejaa," and "Mirax." Isn't Horn's wife named Mirax? And isn't he related to a Jedi who died whose name was Nejaa?

Finally Kirney couldn't take it anymore and she walked over to the two men and said to the younger man, "Excuse me, do I know you?"

Obviously taken aback, the young man regarded her.

"I don't know. Who are you?"

"Kirney Slane."

"Oh. You."

"You are Corran Horn, aren't you? I thought that I'd recognized you. Have you seen Myn Donos?"

"No, I haven't seen Myn recently. I'm currently on extended leave-"


"Don't interrupt me, Imp. Anyway, I haven't seen him recently, but I do know that you seriously messed him up. If you know what's good for you and him, you'd stay away from him."

"But please tell me-"

"I'm not telling anything to an Imp traitor! Now go away, before I make you!"

What is that supposed to mean? Kirney wondered. He wasn't very big, and at least as she remembered him, his unarmed combat skills weren't the greatest either, certainly not up to par with hers.

"Before you make me?! If my memory serves me right, as it usually does, your unarmed combat skill aren't sithspit!" Kirney, furious at the insult, slapped him. The next thing she knew, she was lying facedown on the floor, with her arms twisted painfully behind her and his knee digging into her back. Huh?

"I've learned a thing or two since you split, traitor," he hissed into her ear. "Now get the hell out of here. I can personally guarantee you that if you ever come into contact with any of the Rogues, I will kill you." He let go of her and sat back down at his table.

Kirney got up, paid her tab, and went back to her small apartment. Where did Horn learn that?! she wondered angrily. I wonder if his views are shared by the Myn.

Realization that they probably were crept into her gut. If Myn had any feelings for her, he probably would have called her before now.

Crying, she threw herself into her bed and lay there for a long time, sobbing. She lay there thinking, and she made her decision.

She got up, walked over to her desk, and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a high-power blaster and a small holo of Myn. Looking wistfully at Myn's image one last time, she put the checked the blaster to be sure it was set for 'kill,' put it in her mouth, and pressed the firing stud.

Kilometers away, Corran felt her death. I wonder if what her true loyalties were? What if she truly wanted to serve the Republic? He wondered if he should tell Myn, the next time he saw him, that he saw her, and that she had killed herself. He decided not to. I wonder who she truly was? It doesn't matter now. Rest in peace, Gara Petothel, Agent of Imperial Intelligence.


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