Jagged Fel rushed to unstrap himself from his sim seat. He had just taken out the last Rogue and wanted to see who it was. It wasn't Rogue Lead, Darklghter was the second to last Rogue to get killed. Darklighter flew with an obvious style; decades of experience coupled with a hard grace. No, the last Rogue seemed fairly inexperienced. Whoever he was, he flew with an astounding amount of raw talent. What's more, he learned quickly and could make his X-wing dance. With a little more experience, he could even shoot me down. That Rogue had won Jagged's respect from flying alone, which was a difficult thing to do. No one else had managed it.
Climbing out of his sim, Jagged scanned the area for the distinctive orange flight suits. There was one leaning against the wall by the exit, a lanky blond woman who appeared to be waiting for someone. She appeared to have been out of the sim for a while, her hair no longer damp with sweat. She glanced over towards him and with a wry smile, gave him a mock salute. It wasn't a hostile gesture, but Jagged's gut reaction to it was offense. She, along with the rest of the Rogues he'd seen, carried themselves casually. Humans are baffling. How can one be casual in the middle of war? Discipline was necessary to win any sort of battle, and outside the cockpit, the Rogues appeared to have none. Of course, inside the cockpit the Rogues could give even his elite Spike squadron a solid fight. He simply didn't understand how one could turn discipline on and off like that.
The hatch to one of the X-wing sims opened up, and the pilot clambered out and dropped to the floor. This must be him – oh, her. The pilot looked at him and gave him a quick nod before she turned to what he presumed was her wingmate, pulling her helmet off in the process. Jagged had never been more glad that his helmet covered his entire face. It hid his shock, though he thought nothing would hide his suddenly loud heartbeat. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and that was with her long brown hair messed up from her helmet. Wisps of hair were plastered to her face with sweat, and she had what looked like a smear of grease across her cheek. A small button nose sate below shining golden-brown eyes. She was tiny, and her flightsuit did a good job of hiding her form, but Jagged had plenty of imagination. He was, after all, human too. He vaguely wondered if this was what a crush was. He had heard of them through his parents, but never understood until now.
Jagged couldn't see her nametag the way she was facing, but he didn't need to as her wingmate began talking. "Hey Solo, you're buying!" He didn't think it was possible, but Jagged's jaw dropped even further. Jaina Solo! That explained a lot, though it was still unexpected. It explained her confident flying, and Jagged had no doubt that it would extend to everything from am A-wing to a battle cruiser. Without knowing who she was, she had won his complete respect. Now her beauty caused Jagged's chest to tighten and breath to quicken. I have a crush on the daughter of Han Solo. This will go over well with Father.
Jaina groaned. "Dammit, Anni!"
Anni clapped Jaina on the shoulder and steered her out the exit. "You know the rules. Last one alive buys."
"But I always buy!"
"Then die more." Anni's laughter was the last thing Jagged heard as the exit slid shut behind them.
He was left to contemplate this new development in silence. He couldn't still his heartbeat, and his stomach was knotted. For the first time, Jagged Fel had no control over his emotions, and more frightening still, he didn't want any.