The days and nights were just as blissful as Wes had imagined. There was no Wedge, no Mirmount; it was just he and Myri. There were the occasionally dress fittings that they all had to attend, but all other times were spent specifically alone and specifically in bed.
The weather was beautiful on the evening of the gala. Myri was nervous from the moment she had woken up that morning. Wedge came to pick her up and bring her back to the house where Syal and Iella were already being primped for the evening's activities. Iella just stared as her youngest daughter walked into the main sitting area. She was already dressed in an ivory gown, her hair pulled into a harsh bun and accentuated with a large jeweled headband. Makeup artists were swarming around Syal, trying to properly cover the wound on her forehead. Myri covered her mouth and faked a cough to cover the smile that came to her lips.
"Your dress is behind the screen," her mother said evenly, "I don't like it, but I guess it suits you."
Myri ignored the jibe and headed behind the screen she spoke of. Myri grinned when her eyes fell on the dress she had chosen. It was a deep red satin number that dipped low in the back and front, form fitting until it hit mid-thigh, where it split and flowed to her ankle. She changed into the ravishing gown, sitting on the small stool beside the mirror to put on the heels she had chosen to go with the dress.
"High and strappy, of course," she murmured, smiling at herself as she stood and looked in the mirror. She came out from behind the screen and the room became silent. It only served to make Myri more nervous. There would be holocams everywhere at the gala, and she knew that citizens of Corellia were already lining up around the blue carpet to view the stars that would be showing up that night.
"How inappropriately appropriate," Syal commented from the vanity she sat in front of. She was wearing a simply cut lavender dress. Myri raised an eyebrow, something of a challenge that she could still beat her sister senseless, even in such formal attire. Syal's face fell and Myri sat down at the vanity beside her and makeup and hair attendants began buzzing around her. She was ready in a half hour, her hair in a cascade of curls pulled into an elegant tail held with a bejeweled clip and her face carefully constructed. She looked more like a holovid star than a general's daughter.
Wedge was quickly dressed in his uniform and an extra sash was placed across his chest, the bright blue material adding a splash of color to the simple uniform, which was doubly accentuated with all of his medals and ranks, which had all been cleaned and shined.
The family was picked up by their transport and rode to Corellia's Grand Palace. As the transport slowed to a stop in front of the huge building, Myri could feel her nerves getting more frazzled. It had been many years since she'd been to an event like this. She was used to the dark loneliness o the Mirmount; here, hundreds of people surrounded the blue carpet that was blazingly lit by the late afternoon sun.
Wedge stepped out of the transport first, closely followed by Iella. AS Syal moved out, Myri could already hear the roar of the crowd. Her family was planned as the last to arrive due to Wedge's military status, so the blue carpet was already full of familiar faces as Myri stepped out of the transport.
She was almost blinded by the flashes of the holocameras and deafened by the shouted questions fro the press and other citizens. She was frozen in an overwhelming rush of activity, and her father had to take her hand and lead her forward onto the carpet so that pictures of the family could be taken.
Myri composed herself and smiled for the flashes as she stood next to her sister, but her eyes were scanning the people on the blue carpet. She recognized Luke Skywalker and his wife, who held their young son on her hip. She also recognized the Solo family standing nearby them; Han and Leia stood aside their twin children, Jacen and Jaina. Myri felt a pang of sadness when she remembered their younger son Anakin, who had died several years ago during the Yuuzhan Vong war. That feeling quickly lifted when she finally picked Wes out of the crowd.
He was standing with several different species of living beings, a group which was the next stop on the Antilles' travels up the blue carpet. These were the former and present members of Wraith Squadron, the group Wes had been telling her about. She vaguely listened to a few names as her father introduced them: Kell and Syria Tainer, Face Loran, Voort saBinring. Wes moved over to her as everyone began to mingle. He was closely followed by the man Wedge had introduced as Face. He graciously took her hand and kissed it, bowing slightly.
"The enigmatic Myri Antilles," he said, "I'm so glad to finally meet you. I was heartbroken when I heard that you opted to go to boarding school rather than join Starfighter Command."
"I wasn't ever much of a pilot," she responded, throwing a glance to Wes. He was favoring her with a mixed expression: an "I told you so." For Face's actions, another underneath that was in a daze from her appearance.
Wedge and Iella moved to greet the members of Rogue Squadron and Syal had gotten into a scientific conversation with Voort. Myri stayed at Wes' side, engaging in a quiet personal conversation as the press and other sentient beings buzzed around them.
"You look beautiful," Wes said softly, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot.
Myri moved slightly closer to him, "Is there anywhere less populated we can go?"
"I'm afraid not—why?"
"Because I'm not going to able to be near you for much longer without doing something about it."
Wes chuckled, "Likewise. It looks like everyone's heading inside. Why don't we head in and see what we can do about our little predicament?"
Once they were inside the Grand Palace, Wes and Myri had to part ways to go to their respective tables. The Antilles were seated with the Skywalkers and Solos, as well as Tycho and Winter Celchu. Light conversation filled the great hallway as they were served dinner and champagne. After dinner came the award ceremony, where past and present members of Rogue Squadron were given various honors. As Wes, Hobbie, Tycho, and Wedge stood up on the bandstand among their peers, Myri gave the former two a wave. They both threw her smiles and medals were placed around their necks. The room stayed quiet after the awards ceremony, until the bandleader announced the dancing portion of the night.
"We will begin the night with a special dance of the Corellian Tango. The pilot that was awarded the most honors will take the floor first with the partner of his choice," the bandleader opened the envelope with the said pilot's name in it and had to roll his eyes and laugh as he said, "And of course that pilot is Captain Wes Janson."
Myri laughed out loud as a spotlight was placed on Wes. In a show of good cheer that set his former squadmates into hysterics, Wes put his hand to his chest in a joking show of surprise. He stood, bowing grandly for everyone's amusement.
Myri continued smiling until she realized that Wes was heading towards the table she sat at. Hobbie's mouth dropped, and Myri glanced out of the corner of her eye to see the shock on Wedge and Tycho's faces as they all realized the same thing that she had. She tried to shake her head as unnoticeably as possible as he neared her, but it only caused Wes to grin more.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, his eyes glittering in the bright light that now shone on both of them. He held a hand out to Myri, who felt much hotter now under the scrutiny of the spotlight and her father's friends. The hall was dead silent as Myri stared into Wes' eyes and saw the small fear there that no one else could see. There was a collective gasp that echoed through the hall as Myri stood and took his hand, which she felt trembling slightly.
They walked out to the middle of the dance floor as the band began playing. Myri glanced at Wes out of the corner of her eye, "Since when did you know how to do the Corellian Tango?"
"You'll find that I'm full of surprises," Wes responded, spinning her in front of him. Myri wasn't taken off guard; she and Sirra had been taught many forms of dance for their work at the Mirmount.
The Corellian Tango was by no means easy, even if one was a pro at it. Both partners had to pay attention to the others movements so that their bodies moved together, pressed closely against one another so that not a hint of light could be seen between them. It was dark and sensual, and Myri and Wes were moving through it with deft precision.
Wes had no problem lifting Myri's body into the air or spinning her in various twists and turn. Myri returned his strong movements with matched intensity, holding his weight as he tipped them back until Myri was almost parallel with the floor. It was a set up for the peak of the dance in which Wes swung Myri up into the air, spinning, as he changed direction in time to receive her in his arms. Myri landed flawlessly, Wes taking her in his arms and swinging her into the finishing stance, arms around one another and her right leg over his hip.
Staring directly into one another's eyes, lips only centimeters apart, bother was gasping for breath as the hall erupted in shouts and applause. Myri couldn't help but grin as they held their pose, "How does my father look?"
Wes hazarded a look over to her family's table, temporarily blinded by the dizzy flashes of press holocams. When his vision cleared, he couldn't help but chuckle as he caught Wedge's expression. Had this been less public, Wes would have been unconscious after taking a sucker punch to the temple from a very angry former commander.
"Impressed, but ready to kill me," he answered, lifting Myri back to her feet. They bowed for the still applauding crowd; everyone was baffled and amazed by the unexpected performance.
The bandleader invited everyone else onto the dance floor as another song began. Myri strayed from Wes' side as his former squadmates flocked toward them. She walked back to the table where her family still sat in amazement. She gave her sister a firm pat on the shoulder, "How was that for inappropriate?"
"That was unbelievable," Iella admitted, "Where did you learn to dance like that?"
Myri smiled at her mother, "Certainly not boarding school, I can tell you that much."
"You were a pretty big hit with the press," Wedge said, nodding towards the barrage of holoreporters heading towards their table, "Let's see how you handle this dance. It's quite different."
Myri took a deep breath before being rushed by the group, who started throwing questions at her the moment their holocams were running.
"Myri Antilles, is it true that you were sent away from your family because you were socially unbalanced?"
"What was your early alcohol addiction caused by?"
"How does it feel being trust into the spotlight with someone like Wes Janson?"
"You've certainly grown up, is there any lucky man in your life?"
Myri laughed, briefly glancing over to where Wes was now talking to his friends. She smiled at the press," So many questions, all at once! You'd imagine a girl would be given a chance to think!"
Her expression changed, becoming solemn, "Though I do believe less attention should be paid to me and more to the soldiers that gave countless time and energy to receive their awards they have been given tonight."
As she turned away from the crowd, a man's voice pressed, "Please, just one statement about yourself?"
Myri sighed and turned back towards them, and in one swift movement, they were ready to immortalize whatever words she said. Myri gave a tight-lipped smile and said, "I am very proud of my father and his squadmates' accomplishments, and I'm very glad that I was able to see them celebrated."
She turned away once again as they continued to shout more questions at her. Myri went to her father and slipped an arm through his, "A dance, daddy?"
"Abosolutely."