Myn Donos was walking through the streets of Coronet City. He'd left his uniform with his ship, wearing instead a 'civvie' outfit of slacks, shirt, and oversized jacket. He passed stores and stalls, most rundown or abandoned. Business was slow on Treasure Row, and the people were unhappy. Myn almost wished he hadn't come home. He remembered this place as the heart of Corellia, bustling with people and excitement; noise, color, and credits had swirled around the place like currents of water in a deep river. Now, it seemed a dying thing, a pale shadow of its former self. Treasure Row wasn't dead yet, but it probably would be soon. It hurt to look around and see what time and cruel fate had done to it.
He suddenly decided that he'd had enough – he couldn't stay here any longer. He'd go somewhere else, see other parts of his homeworld – but he wouldn't remain in Treasure Row any longer. Even he could only take so much depression; and his appetite for it had grown less and less in the past few years, ever since he had listened to Wedge and Wes about his responsibility as a pilot; ever since he'd almost killed Face; ever since he'd fallen in love with Lara Notsil.
Ever since he'd fallen in love with Gara Petothel, the woman who'd helped kill his squadron.
Myn started to walk towards the nearest end of the Row – back the way he'd come. He trudged along the road, his eyes facing the ground. He'd learned not to deliberately expose himself to situations that would depress him any more than necessary; and he'd learned a good definition of just how much was necessary. He'd needed to come and see this place, but he didn't need to wallow in misery. No, it was better to just walk out of the Row, looking neither right nor left – so he wouldn't see what had become of Treasure Row, so he wouldn't see what had happened to all of Coronet City –
He knew now what had happened to his planet, and he also knew that there was nothing he could do to help.
He walked on.
He was jolted out of his brisk pace when he heard someone call his name.
"Myn?" He didn't recognize the voice, not right off – had he imagined it?
"Myn? Is that you?"
He turned to see. The caller had been behind him and to the left, not very far away – there she was. Was she the one who had called him?
Lara.
She hurried towards him, red hair swinging back over her shoulder, her delicate features making her seem thin and fragile as she looked up at him. For one moment, she seemed so vulnerable, so full of fearful hope, that Myn thought she would break in two.
Then her face cleared, and she smiled as she realized that it was him. She looked confident and happy, a joyous smile on her face.
"Myn! It is you. It's me – Kirney. You remember me, right?"
He looked down at her, remembering. In her last message, she had called herself Kirney Slane, and said that she was running a shuttle service. She had looked hopeful and vibrant – like she did now. Myn looked at her happy face, and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk ruining that – if he called her Lara, if he talked to her about Wraiths and X-Wings, maybe that smile would melt away, a fear rising in her, a cold distance driving out the warmth in her eyes –
"Hello, Kirney. Yes, of course I remember you! It's good to see you again." He swallowed around the lump in his throat.
Her smile had been bright before, but now it was blazing like the Glowpoint. "It's wonderful to see you too, Myn. I didn't expect to see you here…"
"I didn't expect to see you either," he admitted. "I had hoped… but, I didn't know.. I mean… I wasn't sure where to reach you."
She looked in his eyes, her smile muted but her joy intact. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Want to get a drink somewhere and talk about things?" She wasn't pressing him – just offering. Or maybe asking – she needed to talk to him as much as he needed to talk to her…
"Sure. I'd love to."
They walked down Treasure Row together, towards a place where there was still activity and life.