* * *

After dropping off Kolot at the little apartment they shared, and after his numerous stern reminders that the shops would close in two hours, she made her way over to the house of Myn's parents. She knew the way well, having visited them on numerous occasions, but the traffic was so bad that it took her over twenty minutes just to get there. She settled the airspeeder in a parking slot in front of the garden, grabbed the parcel and locked the vehicle.

"Kirney!" Selan flashed her a big smile when he caught sight of her.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously and raised an eyebrow at the mess of wires and glowlamps he was trying to attach to a needle tree near the fence.

He gave her a look of mock disapproval. "Don't tell me you don't know about Midwinter traditions."

"I grew up on Coruscant, remember?" She shut the garden door and placed a kiss on Selan's cheek. "Imperials aren't big on emotional holidays and the emphasis on Midwinter is a totally Corellian thing."

He shook his head and said sternly, "I see we have to brush up your education on Corellian customs, young lady. This," he went on and lifted the tangle of cables and glowlamps he'd been trying to sort out, "is, obviously, a set of Midwinter Lights which I managed to twist in knots so badly that I've failed to sort it out so far." He scowled at the offending piece of decoration. "We, Corellians I mean, decorate trees in this fashion as a reminder of the religious roots of the festival. I won't bore you with details, though. Way back real candles were used, but you can imagine what problems they caused."

She snorted. "Yeah, I can imagine. Having your home burnt down in the middle of winter is an exhilarating experience, I bet."

"You're a cynic," Myn's father drawled mockingly. Then he looked pointedly at the parcel she was carrying. "You got it?"

Kirney nodded. "All of it." Shooting a sceptic glance at the house she asked, "She isn't here, is she? I mean, this is supposed to be a gift."

"Don't worry," he soothed her. "She's out with some of her friends. Midwinter party." He rolled his eyes.

"Meaning caf, pastries, cakes and girly talk in big quantities," she shot back and laughed at his protracted sigh.

"You forgot continuous exposure to sickeningly sweet Midwinter music," he drawled and continued to sort out the tangled wires. At least he tried to.

"And you are calling me a cynic?" Kirney narrowed her eyes at the confusing mass of tangled wires, then she reached out and pulled on some ends. And suddenly the chain of glowlights was untangled.

Selan looked baffled. "How did you do that? I've been at it for almost an hour and you look at it for a few seconds and bang!"

"Analytical mind," she retorted and tapped a finger against her temple.

"I bet that comes handy," he muttered and began clamping the glowlights to the tree's branches. When he was finished he knelt down to lift an inconspicious piece of lawn, revealed a hidden power outlet and plugged the chain of glowlights in. The tree lit up as the lights came to life.

"Looks good," Kirney decided.

"Why, thank you," Selan drawled wryly. "So, what are you going to do on the holidays?"

"Me? Not much." She shrugged noncommittally. "I'm going to treat myself a few decent meals, a few hot showers and will watch some of these corny holodramas."

He raised a dubious eyebrow at that. "So you aren't going to celebrate the holidays at all, are you?"

She shrugged again. "Never started celebrating holidays. Never gave them much thought, anyway."

Selan shook his head in mock despair. "I see we've got to go a long way to turn you into a real Corellian."

"Huh?"

"A Corellian who doesn't celebrate Midwinter ain't no Corellian." He tilted his head. "Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? And bring Kolot along."

Her denial came automatically. "Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose ..."

Selan cut her off. "It's no imposition. It's an offer." He put both of his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight into the face. "Kirney. For all intents and purposes you are family. I see you as my daughter-in-law in everything but name and the only reason that hasn't happened, yet, is because my son is out there fighting a war."

Her eyes widened at his statement, uttered with such conviction that there was no room for doubts left. "Oh," she said lamely. "You think ...?"

"No." Selan shook his head. "I don't think, I know." Seeing her eyes widen even further he pressed on doggedly. "With the kind of history you two have, do you really think Myn would have bothered meeting up with you again if there wasn't genuine love between the two of you? Or what made you send him a message when you should have hidden from him until Coronet Prime went nova?"

Kirney realized she hadn't thought about it at all. Or rather: she had not allowed herself to think this far ahead. Myn was far away from her and their time together was limited to all too seldom visits of his. She was happy when he was there, but she always knew he'd have to go back to Rogue Squadron. The separation hurt, badly, and so her mind had closed off certain ideas in a special area, the future, that etheric concept of happiness that everybody seemed to strive for, her own hopes and wishes among them. Of course she thought of Myn every day, and most nights, wondering how he was and when she'd see him again. But now she realized she'd thrown herself into work, because she craved the respite from the melancholia which often overwhelmed her when she thought of him. Work kept her busy, work kept her mind focused on other things ... Which was one of the reasons she'd almost forgotten about the Midwinter holidays.
But now Selan's offer opened up the wound again, the knowledge how lonely she really was dragged to the front of her mind. She realized that her ignorance of holidays, something she'd cultivated after her parents's execution, was a willful one, a means to ignore yet another reminder that she was alone in the galaxy. Holidays were festivals for families, times to spend together and to share the special closeness that only family ties could create and sustain. She didn't have that but craved it deep down inside.

"Come on," he said soothingly. "Give yourself a chance."

"I don't know." She lowered her head and stared at the tips of her boots. "Kolot isn't the most sociable person."

"Unlike you, eh?"

She looked up and saw him grin wickedly and his humor helped her to drive back the tide of negative emotions, too. "You just want to recruit me to play Preeni Pi for your grandnieces," she deadpanned.

A look of surprise flickered across his features. "Now that you mention it ..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think that's a great idea."

"Not. A. Snowball's. Chance. On. N'kllon." Kirney was adamant. "I ain't going near anywhere such ridiculous a costume."

"Too bad." The wicked grin was back on his face. "You'd be a really pretty Preeni Pi."

Kirney swatted him good-naturedly. "Scoundrel," she groused and stifled her smile, but it was becoming harder. "You Corellians are all scoundrels and one worse than the other."

"It took you this long to figure out that fact?" Selan burst out laughing. "That ain't a secret we managed to keep from the galaxy, you know."

"I figured that one out long ago, thank you," she groused and finally lost the battle with her blossoming smile.

"Good. I'd have been disappointed to have such an oblivious daughter-in-law," Selan quipped. "That'd be bad for me 'cause an old man like me wants to pamper some grandchildren one day." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and laughed when Kirney flushed crimson.

"Devious, twisted son of a ..."

"Yup, that's me." He grinned smugly. "So ... will you come?"

She sighed. "I have to ask Kolot and if he refuses then no."

"No problem. Just tell him he can eat as much as he wants."

Kirney snorted. "Are you kidding? I just put him on half rations for the next week." They shared a laugh, but then a little frown stole its way onto her face. "So it's gonna be the whole family? You, Jaleela, your brother and sister-in-law, their kids and families, huh?"

"Nope." Selan looked somewhat relieved. "That particular gathering will be held two days later at my brother's. Tomorrow it's just you, Kolot, my wife and me ..." A sudden grin lit up his face. "And Jaleela's marvelous roasted avian. That's another Corellian tradition, you know. On the Holy Evening it's either roasted avian or fish, but I hate fish so we never have it."

Arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow she asked, "Is that going to be a Midwinter dinner or another lesson in Corellian customs?"

"Both. Especially if one is part of the other." He smiled. "So? Will you come?"

"Okay, okay," Kirney said and let out a resigned sigh. "You've worn me down."

"Good." He grinned again. "I expect you and your strange companions tomorrow fifteen hundred hours sharp." Giving her appearance a more thorough scrutiny he added, "But wear something else than a jumpsuit. Nothing too fancy, I don't want Jaleela forcing me to wear this awful suit again, but since it's a festive dinner we have to make the effort."

She snapped to attention and gave him a faultless salute. "Sir, yes, Sir!"

He returned the salute with utter seriousness and took the parcel from her. Then he said crisply, "Dismissed."

Both burst out laughing. Kirney waved her goodbye and left.


Kolot wasn't a happy Ewok. Not that she'd ever think of him as a particularly happy creature, but when she finally arrived at their tiny home he was definitively miffed. "Kirney late," he declared as she burst through the door.

"I'm not late," she disagreed. "The traffic is awful today."

He scowled, crossed his short arms and began tapping his right foot on the ground. "Kirney know we need to shop for food. No excuse."

"What's bitten you?" She frowned at him. "We still have ..." She shot a quick glance at the chrono on the wall in the kitchen. "More than an hour left. No need to panic."

"No time for discussion. We go," he growled and brushed past her.

A puzzled frown crept on her face. Even after two years he sometimes managed to confuse the Sith out of her. His moodswings were unpredictable and often downright nasty. Moody astromech and moody Ewok. What a combination, she thought sourly and closed the door.
Kolot was already waiting for her at the airspeeder. She almost expected another outburst, if he was in one of his moods he'd be insufferable for the rest of the day, but he remained quiet. That unnerved her a bit. A grumbling Kolot she could handle, but a silent one?

"Kolot sorry," he said all of a sudden. "No right to take out frustration on Kirney."

"It's not your fault," she soothed and kept her bewilderment from showing on her face.

"Still. Kolot no feel good about it." He scrunched his paws into fists in silent frustration.

"Get in," she ordered softly, deciding to change topics. "Or the shops will be closed and it's really a week of fasting for you."

The Ewok snorted. "What happened to quarter rations?"

"They're still looming over your head, furball," Kirney joked. "And the idea is getting more and more appealing."

"Cooling unit no lock. Kirney no means to enforce quarter rations." He grinned suddenly.

"Okay, that's it," she declared as she swung herself behind the controls of the speeder. "Myn's father invited us to dinner tomorrow, but when you're this snappy you'll stay behind."

"Ha! Kirney no can order Kolot to stay. If Kirney no want to go, Kolot will alone. What's for eats?"

She let out a bark of laughter. "You really do think with your stomach. And it'll be roasted avian."

"Good." He patted his midsection. "Kolot never say no to real food."

"You never say no to any kind of food," she corrected sweetly. "That is your problem."

He remained silent and for a moment she feared he was in the middle of another moodswing so she dared a quick side glance. He, however, seemed to be thinking if the look of concentration on his face was anything to go by.

"If Kolot remembers right," he said after a little while, his tone contemplative, "custom says to bring along something to eat to dinner invitation."

She frowned at him. "Where did you hear that?"

"HoloNet." He shrugged. "Kirney know Kolot likes cooking shows."

"You like anything about food," she gibed and put her foot down on the accelerator to overtake a lumbering gravtruck in front of them.

"Kolot thinks should bring along something, too. Makes good impression."

"It's a good idea," she agreed. "But remember I'm helpless when it comes to formal cooking. So preparing something is out of question and I do not want to buy some instant stuff."

The Ewok nodded and pursed his lips. "How about wine?"

"Hmmm." The thought about it for a while, allowing the idea to take root in her mind. "You know," she finally said and flashed Kolot a small smile. "That isn't such a bad idea."

He let out a little satisfied grunt but made no further comment until they reached the supermarket.

* * *

"Thank you for helping me here," Jaleela said while she prepared the plucked and disemboweled avian.

Kirney chuckled, put the cream-filled bowl under the mixer and flipped a switch. "I'm not much of a help, I'm afraid. When it comes to real cooking I'm as helpless as a day-old pup."

Myn's mother looked up from her preparations and shot her a puzzled stare. "And how do you get along? I mean, I don't suppose Kolot can cook, can he?"

"No, he can't," Kirney laughed. "But he's a master of plundering the cooling unit. The food disappears with a speed which frightens me. I am beginning to think about installing a code-protected lock." She shook her head. "I never learned to cook, never had the time or saw the need to. We're out on business and away so often that we mostly eat in tapcafs at the spaceport. The few times we're at home it's quick and dirty instant food or we order in."

Jaleela sighed. "I see there's plenty of work left for me to do."

Kirney raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate that?"

"Any decent daughter-in-law has to know how to cook," the older woman declared and thrust the last herbs into the empty abdominal cavity of the avian. She stopped dead when Kirney flushed crimson. "Something the matter?"

"No, not really." Kirney sighed. "It's just your husband said something along the same lines when he invited me yesterday."

"Really?" Jaleela raised an eyebrow and grinned. "And what did my husband have to say?"

"That I have to learn a lot about Corellian customs." She looked at the older woman in exasperation. "And now you want to teach me some cooking skills. I feel like I'm being interviewed for a job."

Myn's mother chuckled. "What can I say? Parents always want the best for their kids, even when it pertains to their chosen lifemates." She tilted her head and her smile lost some of the intensity. "I hope we aren't pressuring you into something."

Kirney waved her concerns away. "It's okay. I just never gave the possibility much thought. Myn's off with Rogue Squadron and between worrying about him and work there's just no time left to think about possibilities for the future." She flicked the switch on the mixer again and removed the bowl with the now stirred cream. "I only realized this yesterday, but after my parents were executed I stubbornly ignored any kind of holiday, even my own birthdays, because they reminded me of what I'd lost, of how alone I was in the galaxy. And with Myn out with the Rogues most of the time I did the same, ignoring holidays, avoiding to think about the future and what I want." She flashed Jaleela a small sad smile. "It's easier this way, easier to deal with the separation."

The older woman gave her a gentle smile. "But if you have nothing to strive for, nothing to look forward to ... why bother living?"

That drew a chuckle. "That's the very same thing some people said to Myn after he'd lost it." Wreathing her face into a wry grin she added, "We're a matched pair, aren't we?"

"Oh yes." Jaleela's eyes twinkled with merriment. "There's an old saying: For every pot there's a matching lid."

Kirney shook her head in mock despair. "Another kitchen analogy? And there I thought I had successfully diverted you from trying to teach me some cooking skills."

"Not gonna happen." Myn's mother put her hands to her hips and flicked her braid back over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "And we better get started now."

Raising her hands in a defensive gesture Kirney inquired, "Wouldn't you rather have me do something with computers? Like slicing into the private journal of the Diktat's personal chef or Nova Nova's secret recipes?"

Jaleela blinked. "You could do that?"

"I don't know," Kirney admitted with a shrug. "I haven't done any slicing since I set up the background for my new identity before I landed on Corellia."

"But you could do that?"

"Perhaps." She hesitated, noting the strange gleam in Jaleela's eyes and felt her own widen. "Oh no. That was supposed to be a joke."

The older woman grinned. "I know. But it's a tempting thought. I mean you could tweak the recipe for the Diktat's favorite meal to give him a bad digestion for a week."

"And have him flog the poor chef in public?" She arched an eyebrow.

"You know," Jaleela said thoughtfully and frowned, "that is probably what Gallamby would do."

Kirney shook her head. "Ironic, isn't it? I have to flee from the New Republic because it considers me a traitor and have to seek refuge on a planet whose dictator is as much a petty tyrant as the Emperor had been."

The older woman narrowed her eyes. "You aren't trying to deflect my attention from cooking to politics, are you? No getting out of it, young lady."

The redhead sighed. "I surrender. You're just as single-minded as your son can be. That's unnerving."

"And don't you forget it," Myn's mother quipped. "Let's see if you've got potential in the kitchen."

"I doubt it very much," Kirney muttered and grimaced. "Flying starfighters into a cloud of TIEs, slicing the most secure computer systems or infiltrating a dangerous enemy force ... no problem. But cooking?" She let her shoulders sag in an exaggerated gesture of defeat. "Tattooine becoming a tropical sea world is more probable, I guess."

"Not under my expert tutelage," Jaleela said and let an edge creek into her voice. "No more attempts to deflect, Miss Slane. We have an avian which needs to be roasted."

"Better pray that I won't poison us in the process," Kirney muttered under her breath.

* * *