Summary: Oneshot, post-LotF. Jaina confronts the greatest villain of Star Wars. (No, it's not Palpatine or Mr Plinkett.). Angst, Language, some spoilers.
Standard disclaimer applies.
A Moment of Lucidity
Only two days have passed since the defeat of the Sith Lord Darth Caedus by the hands of the Jedi Knight Jaina Solo and she felt like a victim of a speeder crash, shell-shocked and numbed. The reality seemed riddled with lies, infested with fraud... simply unreal and trying to unveil the deception was akin to swimming through the murky sewage water. The sense of being disconnected and floating away from her body wasn't leaving her no matter what happened around, which didn't amount to anything much. The people she's been interacting with smiled and laughed, celebrating the death of Caedus. All the congratulatory pats on the back she received were tiresome and unappreciated, but how could she accept thanks for this deed if she herself was anything but thankful for it?
Jaina punched the pillow in frustration, unable to sleep. The insomnia was bothering her yet another night. Meditation didn't bring any relief, instead making her face emotions she didn't really know how to deal with. The same happened when Anakin had died – she'd handled it so badly, she'd almost fallen to the Dark Side.
She knew she couldn't ask for help her uncle or anyone else... no one would understand. They'd all told her to do it, to kill her twin brother. They'd all told her that he hadn't been her brother anymore, that he had become evil and irredeemable. They'd all told her she'd had to dispose of the trash he had become and she had believed every single word.
Why wouldn't she believe them? They were her friends, comrades, superiors. Her own family had practically disowned him. The shadow in Ben's eyes, the spilled blood of Mara, the agony of all his victims – they'd screamed for his death and she'd delivered it, unthinking of the consequences, so righteous in her judgment of him, so certain he'd deserved to be put down like a rabid dog.
So if all they'd said was true, why did she feel like a murderer?!
If he hadn't been her brother, why had she felt like she'd been killing a part of her own soul as she had cut him down?
If he'd been evil why had she sensed him reaching out desperately to Tenel Ka and Allana, trying to warn them of the threat in his final moment?
Why had she sensed his love and forgiveness for what she had done?
Jaina buried her face into the soft pillow and wailed, tears streaming out of her eyes and soaking into the material, as the emotional anguish has overtaken her for a moment. No matter what, she knew the image, the feel of Jacen's death would stay fresh in her memory and the wound would never truly heal. Incomprehensible sorrow and regret filled her very being and she tasted the bitter flavour of grief on her tongue.
Slowly, she calmed down and the wails subsided to silent sobs wracking her hunched form on the bed. Finally, she pulled in a shaky breathe and rolled over on her back.
Why had everyone told her to kill Jacen? Why had all of them, even her family, turned their backs on him? She frowned, remembering the unforgiving, sorrowful looks in the eyes of her parents, the barely stifled rage and grief in her uncle, the hurt and betrayal in Ben, as they'd condemned Jacen. What was wrong with all of them?
What was wrong with her? Jaina choked back a sob at the thought that she was the most guilty one of them. She recalled the time when she and Jacen had been almost inseparable, the closest friends and confidantes of each other since their conception and birth. They had known literally everything about each other, keeping no secrets, sharing the deepest and most profound bond two people could share, for their connection wasn't just in blood, but ran deep in the Force, binding them tightly together. How could she, who had known her brother better than their mother, better than his Master, better than his own lover, lose and later outright reject this bond, leaving Jacen utterly alone?
Whenever they had been tempted by the Dark Side, as long as they had had each other, they always had been able to deny it. But then she had abandoned her brother for no good reason she didn't even remember, instead doing... what? Piloting a starfighter? Flirting with Jag and Zekk? Becoming the bug-lover? She shuddered, disgusted with herself for this past choices. When had she stopped caring about Jacen?
The conclusion was painfully obvious – she was a failure of a sister, unworthy of the forgiveness he had granted her in his last moments.
Thinking back on her life, Jaina sensed the general wrongness in the Force, screaming at her, tugging at her for attention. She traced it back, pinpointing its origins around the time of the mission to Myrkr and Anakin's death. No, it was even earlier, with the appearance of the voxyn, when they had attacked her mother and other Jedi. This wrong feeling resembled a thick, slippery and foul web, in which their lives had then become entangled. Jaina didn't know how it had been constructed or who had done it but felt cold rage at the possibility that there existed an individual responsible for such a horrible thing.
Along with the awareness of the web, Jaina gained the means to rip herself away from it, which she gladly took, using all of her considerable mental and Force powers to break free from its malicious influence.
She didn't notice at first that her surroundings changed, too elated with the success. She was no longer laying in her bed, but standing in an empty room in what appeared to be a dimly lit warehouse. She was dressed in her usual flightsuit and had the comforting weight of the lightsaber handle resting on her hip.
Jaina looked around for an exit, not intent on lingering in this place any longer, when a voice boomed from right behind her, making her almost jump, startled.
'Hello there, Jaina! What a welcome surprise!'
She whirled around to face the speaker, who somehow managed to catch her unawares and scare her half to death. Judging by the timbre of the voice, the man, wearing a hooded cloak, which effectively obscured his features, was sitting on a stack of boxes, his posture relaxed.
Jaina eyed him warily, not fooled for a second by the calm aura he exuded. She thumbed her lightsaber. There was something disturbing about the stranger, which made her stomach clench from the uncomfortable feeling.
'Who are you? How do you know me?' she asked, not revealing any of the nervousness she was experiencing at the moment.
'Well, that are easy questions. I'm your father,' the man declared, but seeing her outraged expression, he hastily added, 'only in a sense, of course. A creator is like a parent to his creation, after all. Wouldn't you agree, my dear Jaina?'
His explanation did nothing but cause more confusion and unease, not to mention his familiar way of addressing her, as if he had a right to it, was pissing the Jedi off.
'What do you mean?' she ground out, restraining herself from lashing out before she had some clear answers.
The man sighed in faked annoyance.
'They always don't get it at first,' his pretended exasperation seemed to mock her, but Jaina kept herself from taking the bait. 'Alright, I'll explain as simply as possible – I am the one who made you who you are. All your life, your family's lives, all of this universe is under my direct and indisputable control and have been for many years. I know everything about you, because it was I who molded you and your life as according to my most glorious masterplan,' the man stood up, gesturing widely during his grand speech.
Jaina was both flabbergasted and enraged by the boldness of his claims. The part of her who was insulted won a brief inner struggle and instead passing him as a rare insane person with a God complex, she argued against him.
'Oh really? You should stop with these obvious lies, because you're not convincing anyone. No one has the power to control the Jedi, more so the universe,' she said hotly.
'You Solos are all the same. Both of your bothers didn't believe me either,' the man quipped lightly, smiling amusedly. He shrugged off the angry look Jaina send his way at the mention of Jacen and Anakin. 'Alright, you want the proof, here you go – think about Jag's butt.'
Jaina wanted to scream at him in indignation and embarrassment but realized she couldn't. No matter how much she fought it, all the previous thoughts left her mind, their place taken by the memory of Jag's shapely rear end.
'Good,' the man nodded, satisfied she obeyed his order. 'Now compare it with Zekk's.' He observed her for a while then whipped out a notebook and pen. 'Note to self – she drools,' he said and jotted it down. 'You can stop now.'
Jaina was recalled form her brainless, trance-like state, her face red in humiliation and anger. How did the man do it? More importantly – how did he dare to degrade her like this? She needed to make him pay for this!
'What the kriffing hell was that?! Just who do you think you are?!' she screamed, but the man was unperturbed.
'As I said, I am your creator. I control everyone and everything here or do you need me to do it again to convince you?' he asked, a wide, maniacal smile stretching his lips.
'No! Don't you dare pull this shit on me again!' she recoiled; losing the power over your own thoughts was a truly frightening experience for a Jedi.
'Are you scared, Jaina? You shouldn't be – nothing's going to happen to you. Your role in my plans still isn't finished,' he proclaimed arrogantly, making her blood boil.
'Like hell! I won't let you do whatever you're planning!' she spat out.
'But you will. Stop fighting the truth and just accept it. All you've ever done was willed by me and you've never had any say in the matter, always the perfect, obedient puppet. It was I who made you a hero, my dear Jaina. You should show me some respect just for that.'
The conviction and utter certainty with which he spoke, backed by his unexplained power over her displayed earlier, caused Jaina to finally allow the horrifying, unimaginable thought that he was exactly whom he claimed to be take root in her mind. And if the man was truthful... the implications were sickening. Was all her life a lie? Was she a mindless drone, following every whim of that madman unquestioningly?
Was that why she had killed Jacen?
'It was all you from the start... it wasn't me...' she mumbled in a daze at the sudden realization as she connected his words with the encompassing dark influence she had fought off. She remembered all the things she had beaten herself over – joining the Killik hive-mind, behaving like a stupid lovesick flirt and leading Jag and Zekk on, continuously failing her brother... 'It wasn't me...'
'Ah, I see it's finally dawned on you. Seems you're much smarter than your unruly brothers,' the man commented, catching her attention as he reminisced. 'I had to threaten the younger one to make him fall in line and die a hero like I intended. The older opposed me to the very end. He tried to trick me but I saw through his act. Sadly, he was too stubborn to listen, so I had to fry his brain before remolding him into the murderous Sith Lord you needed to defeat to become a hero. All my plans worked perfectly well, don't you agree, my sweet Jaina? By the way, you're welcome.'
The shocking revelations about what this madman did to her brothers, revealed in a gloating, self-pleased tone were too much for Jaina to take. She snapped, her Jedi restraint vanishing like a light of a blown candle.
With a roar of fury, Jaina activated her purple lightsaber and rushed the man, intent on striking him dead on the spot. However, the blade didn't touch him, as if he was protected by an invisible Force field. It didn't deter the Jedi, who lashed out in rage time after another, not caring about a proper form of combat, but on splitting the man in two. She wanted to snap him like a twig, cut off all his limbs and when he would scream in agony and beg for forgiveness, she would burn off his tongue and skin him alive, finishing the bloody mess he would become by then by looping off his head. Alas, she needed to reach him first and that just wasn't happening.
Jaina slowly but surely ran out of steam, her arms feeling like lead from swinging the lightsaber blindly at the impenetrable barrier encasing the grinning man. Her blows became sluggish and too wide, yet she wasn't letting up on her attack. Stopping would mean she was defeated and she wasn't ready to admit it yet.
'I really think you should stop, Jaina,' the man said, answering her thoughts. 'It's not a Jedi way, you know, I mean losing yourself in anger. It's a path to the Dark Side and I don't want you to end up like Jacen.'
'Don't you dare say his name, you monster!' she choked out, her vision blurry from the tears streaming down her face. She didn't realize she's been crying.
'A monster? I'm wounded you call me that! I did so much for you and that's how you show me your gratitude?' the man protested theatrically.
It was all just a game to him, wasn't it? Jaina found herself hating him with every fiber of her being. Even knowing that she shouldn't succumb to the hatred, she was unable to banish it, instead using the emotion to continue her fruitless assault.
'It's not going to work, Jaina. You can't hurt me,' the man said, a warning in his voice, but she didn't heed it. He sighed. 'Stay down, girl,' he ordered.
Jaina's arms went limp, her lightsaber falling out from the slack grasp and clattering on the ground, the blade extinguished. If he could have done it from the start, then all her efforts were an exercise in futility. A true despair settled over her and she wept even harder.
'Now, that's better. Stay a good girl and everything's going to be fine, I promise,' the man spoke in a soothing manner, at least in his own opinion. She wasn't fooled by it.
'Stay away from me!' she gasped, more tears of empty rage and utter helplessness staining her cheeks. The man didn't listen, as he approached her and wiped them away with a fake caring expression.
'Don't cry, my sweet little Jaina. It's all going to be alright, you'll see,' he repeated and reached out his hand but she turned away. 'Stay still, it won't hurt,' he said annoyed.
She could only stare, rendered immobile, no longer a master of her own body, and watch with a wide, terrified eyes the open palm closing in on her to be gently laid on her forehead.
Jaina knew no more.
Jaina woke up with a gasp.
Strangely, she didn't remember what it was that plagued her in her dreams, she was just glad it was gone. It must have been something truly terrible, as her pajamas and sheets were soaked in sweat and her heartbeat was racing.
Reaching out to the comfort of the Force and quickly calming down, she looked at the clock at her bedside. It was an early morning and she decided to start her day.
From what she remembered, she was to attend an official celebration of the defeat of Darth Caedus. She smiled at her accomplishment. The Sith had deserved everything he'd gotten and she wasn't feeling any remorse, for her brother had already been long dead, replaced by the cruel darksided monster.
Jaina didn't spare any more thoughts for Jacen, as she padded over to the wardrobe. She needed to decide what she would be wearing for the party. She wanted to look good for Jag and Zekk.
If only she could decide between these two as easily as between her dresses...
The man woke up slowly.
He stretched out lazily, content with a full night's sleep he's gotten. He fuzzily recollected a strange dream about Jaina Solo trying to kill him but the finer details were slipping from his mind. Why would she even want to kill him? She was his favourite character! In his writing, he did everything he could to make her the best!
The man shook his head, dismissing the silly thoughts. It was a big day, as he would be meeting Aaron and their new coauthor and he fully intended to impress on the newbie the need to stick to his masterplan. It was realized only in half and he was itching to start writing the continuation. Oh, he had so many new, great ideas for it! For example, getting rid of Hamner sounded very good. The guy was too sensible for a Jedi, such a bore that no one would miss him. Saba was ten times better than him, anyhow.
'Honey, wake up! The breakfast is ready!' his wife called out from the kitchen.
The smell of fresh pancakes and coffee drifted into the bedroom. The man grinned and got up, happy and enthusiastic to start a brand new day and brand new story.
The End
AN: Thanks for reading and please review! I'm open to all opinions, critiques, suggestions and advice.