Title: Self-Mutilation

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: None

Character: Jaina Solo

A/N: Angst. Spoilers for Allies.

I don't normally write in the first person, but this story demanded it.

I keep losing things. No, actually. That's not entirely accurate. Losing doesn't really do it justice.

Things keep getting taken from me. One by one and war by war, I keep losing the people and things that I care about.

I'm the oldest Solo child. It might only be by five minutes, but I am. It was my job to take care of them. I was supposed to make sure that nothing happened to them.

I failed Anakin. My Kin-kin. I failed him hard. I wasn't even there to help him. After Chewie died to save him, I couldn't even be there to stop him sacrificing himself for a war that seems like it happened a hundred years ago.

I can't even begin to discuss how hard I failed Jacen. I completely failed him. He was my twin, for kriff's sake. I should have noticed that he'd come back wrong. I should have realized, when he got back from the Vong, that he wasn't the same Jacen that I'd always known. I think, on some level, I did realize, but no one wants to admit that their own brother is the monster that Jacen turned out to be.

Aunt Mara saw it. Uncle Luke told me that she tried to warn him. She didn't want him around Ben. I can't help but think that her hunch was the greatest irony of all of this mess. She knew, and her brutal murder was the reason that we all realized what he was capable of.

While I was hunting him, I had to tell myself that he wasn't Jacen anymore. I had to remind myself that he was the creature who had taken Aunt Mara from me, and had also caused a hell of a lot of pain and suffering for the rest of the Galaxy as well. I had to tell myself that it wouldn't end until I ended it, and I did. I ended it.

And in doing so, I failed Jacen more than anyone else.

I don't allow myself the luxury of compartmentalizing anymore. I don't allow myself the luxury of refering to him as Darth Caedus. He was Jacen. He was Jacen and I killed him. I killed my twin brother for the good of the Galaxy.

You'd think that'd be enough, wouldn't you?

It's not.

Yesterday, I ended my engagement. I broke up with a man who I love with a passion I usually reserve for something with a hyperdrive. I walked out on our relationship, even though it's the best thing that I have in my life. I did what I had to do. Just like always.

We wouldn't have worked anyway. I don't know what we were thinking. Jag couldn't have married someone for whom the phrase "for the good of the Empire" would never have any meaning. I could never do anything for the good of any Empire. That's not my role. I am not an Empress.

I am a defender of peace and justice. I am a beacon of hope to an ancient, and noble Order. It is an honor to serve that Order, and I will give everything I have to her cause.

I am the sword of the Jedi.

I just can't help but wonder how many times I'm going to have to cut myself.