when you do your best work."
Corran raised an eyebrow. "I seem to recall you singing a different tune last evening about this time."
"At that time you weren't concerned with Ysanne Isard, you were concerned with me."
"Ah, and that makes the difference?"
"From my perspective, you bet." She took the lightsaber from his hand and set it atop his dresser. "And I think, if you're willing to work with me, I can share that perspective with you."
He kissed her on the tip of the nose. "It would be my pleasure."
"That, Lieutenant Horn, is just half the objective here."
"Forgive me." Following her toward the bed, he stepped over the silken puddle her robe made on the floor. "You know, I just got out of prison."
"For that I won't forgive you but perhaps"—she smiled up at him—"I will make some allowance for good behavior."
Wedge Antilles felt decidedly uncomfortable out of uniform. Actually, I feel uncomfortable out of the service. During the covert mission to Coruscant, he'd not been in hailing distance of an Alliance uniform, and he'd even worn Imperial uniforms a couple of times, but that had not bothered him. He'd spent most of his adult life as part of the Rebel Alliance and now he had chosen to leave it.
There was no doubt in his mind that the decision to leave was the right one to make. He fully understood why the New Republic couldn't attack Thyferra and bring Ysanne Isard to justice. Since she was installed as the Chief of State through an internal revolution—as opposed to an invasion—her holding office was not a case of Imperial aggression, but of self-determination. If the New Republic rejected that idea in this one case, plenty of other nation-states would think long and hard before joining the New Republic or would consider leaving.