--
WHEN THE SUN SETS
--
A new dawn peaks on the horizon. Sparks of sun streak across the still darkened
sky, threatening to overcome the night, as it always does. A cool breeze creeps
along the branches and leaves of trees, sweeping past the dew. Black is
replaced by a soft shade of blue, and no longer are sparkling stars visible in
the mist of day.
It is sunrise on the planet of Borleias.
As pastel tones paint the sky, Jaina Solo takes in a breath of the freshened
air. Soon humidity will set, and the cool breeze will be replaced by a heavy
wind. Though beautiful and comfortable at night, the planet can be cruel and
harsh during the daytimes. Thus, she enjoys the moment while it lasts.
"Good morning," a voice greets behind her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
She turns, meeting the eyes of her visitor. She does not bother to reply, but
lets a silent nod speak for her as she turns back to the horizon. Her visitor
takes a few steps forward, stopping only when he is beside her.
Soft colors were now morphing into the bright and hot sun. Jaina could feel the
cool breeze slowly fading away, diminishing into but a whisper.
"Soon the Vong will take the planet," she suddenly says, in momentary awe of
the creation that surrounds her. "It's such a waste."
Her visitor nods, though distantly. "Don't worry. We'll get it back. Some day.
Some how."
"You sound so sure of yourself."
"I am sure of myself."
She laughs. "Yeah, only because you're Kyp Durron."
Kyp smirks. Jaina looked so beautiful when she smiled. Just like the cool of
the night. But when she was angry… that was a different story. "I'll take that
as a compliment."
Jaina looks into his deep green eyes, amusement filling her features. "I meant
that as an insult."
"Yeah well, you failed." Kyp stares back at her, and in a spark of courage he
brings his lips to hers. He lets them linger for several long heartbeats, until
it occurs to Jaina to resist. She pulls away abruptly.
Red-faced and wide-eyed, she stands in shock. "Why did you—"
"I love you, Jaina." Kyp is surprised at his own courage, and stupidity, until
Jaina's hand comes in contact with his cheek.
Hard.
Kyp winces in pain as Jaina walks back into the building, leaving him alone to
glare into the hot Borleias sun.
--
I love you Jaina.
Kyp's words echoed in her mind, repeating itself over and over again. She tried
to concentrate on the datapads and holopads and paperwork before her, but
always seemed to get distracted by the same phrase whispering in her ear. Every
time it did, deep green eyes and dark silver-streaked hair flashed across her
eyes, and she almost felt his kiss again.
I love you Jaina.
In frustration she flung the datapad that was in her hand towards the wall, and
it cracked with a soft click. Her door buzzed and she palmed it open.
Dark hair. Green eyes.
"Hi, Jaina. Mind if I come in?"
It was a second before what she saw registered in her brain. "Jag. Yeah, of
course. Come in."
She stood out of his way and used the Force to close the door behind him. When
the door was securely locked, she threw her arms around him and started kissing
him.
When they pulled away, Jag raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "That was most
certainly one of the warmest welcomes I've received."
Jaina shrugged. "Sorry. You were a convenient distraction."
"From what?"
Kyp Durron. "Oh, you know, that usual. Paperwork and stuff." She
motioned towards her desk.
Jag nodded his head with a knowing "Ah." He kissed her.
Jaina kissed him back, but couldn't help but pay attention to a familiar
presence approaching. It stopped abruptly at the door, and less than a moment
later she was flooded with strange coldness, a coldness that pained her like a
stab to the heart.
--
Jaina stomped her way to Kyp's quarters. Barging in through the doors, she
demanded, "What was that for?!"
Kyp looked at her, gaze icy. "Didn't you tell me to stay away from you and Jag?
I just did as I was told."
Anger poured over her in waves. She suppressed it as best she could as she used
the Force to lock the door shut. "Just because you don't get what you want
doesn't mean—"
"Do you actually know what I want? Oh, that's right. I'm Kyp Durron. No one in
the galaxy gives a crap about what I want."
"Of course it matters what you want! You want—" Her eyes widened.
"That's right, Jaina. I want you. But I can't have you." A painful laugh
escaped his lips and it hurt Jaina's heart to hear it. "Even if I love you, you
love someone else."
"How would you know if I loved Jag or not?" As realization slapped her
in the face, Kyp's countenance turned even colder.
"Tell me right now, Jaina. Do you love him?"
Jaina was suddenly conflicted with strange emotions. "Of course I—" —don't
love him. I love you. "—love him!"
Kyp's green eyes turned away. In a meeker voice: "So be happy."
Jaina's hardened face softened, and she bit her lip. Did she really love
Jag? Or did she love… Kyp?
"Ask me that question again," she said, her voice strangely stronger.
Kyp glanced at her "What question?"
"If I love Jag."
The Jedi master snorted. "This is a waste of your time. And mine."
"Just do it, Durron."
"Do you love Jag?" It came out as a sigh.
She stuttered once more. "I—" —don't. I love you. "—don't know."
"Then come back when you do know."
--
It was the middle of the day. Nothing important was happening. Jaina stared at
her bland durasteel ceiling.
And let her thoughts assail her.
Subject in question: Kyp Durron. Subject question: Did she love him? Subject
conclusion:
No. I love Jag.
She knew that was a lie.
I love Kyp Durron.
She stood from her place and was about to pay the Jedi master a visit when the
siren screamed.
--
As the alarm screeched throughout the facility, officers and pilots were thrown
into the mad scramble. Astromech droids were beeping, hangar personnel were
yelling, and the siren demanded attention as dozens of coralskipper squadrons
loomed above, in the darkness of space.
The hangars were filled with pilots dashing for their fighters, and squadrons.
Twin Suns, their own private hangar tucked away in the folds of the
installation, was less crowded but no less busy. Jaina jumped up to her x-wing
and flew out into the atmosphere, followed closely by her pilots.
"Quick roll call," she ordered through the comm. "Twin Leader, green."
"Two, green."
"Three, green."
The list went on as they escaped into space, and the battleground coming into
full view. It was ugly and scattered with remnants of fighters and skippers.
Jaina switched to pilot-to-pilot communication.
"Kyp, I have to tell you something."
His voice was not warm at all. Instead, it was gruff and almost uncaring. "All
ears, Lead."
"I—"
Jaina was not able to finish her sentence as another voice, Wedge's or Tycho's,
crackled on the comm.
"Suns, this is Command. A new wave of skippers is coming in from mark 16."
She turned to squadron frequency. "Got you, Command. Suns, you heard him. Break
into attack pattern Shield. Two and Three, come with me."
Kyp and Jag took her wing as they broke off from the main group. Dozens of
skips came roaring past them.
"Sith, we're outnumbered!" Someone yelled over the comm.
"Cut the chatter, Twelve. Stick to attack pattern." As she jerked her stick
hard to the left, a skip came from nowhere and clipped her wing, forcing Kyp to
break away.
"Reform shield trio," Jaina ordered, fear suddenly striking her gut.
"Can't do, Lead."
Jaina shot at a skip. As expected, the void sucked it in, but Jag's torpedoes
shot past, and obliterated the asteroid-fighter. "Reform shield trio!" Jaina
cried, even if she saw the deadly and impossible situation.
Kyp's fighter was surrounded by the menacing coralskippers.
"Dive, if you have to!"
Kyp did as was told, but from the wall of skips two came side-by-side to shoot
at the fighter, barely crashing into Kyp's cockpit.
"Can't do, Lead," he repeated.
Tears threatened to fall as the skippers closed in on Kyp's fighter. She could
do nothing, as she and Jag were being assaulted by seven skips of their own.
She felt something through the Force, a warm, loving, lifting sensation she had
never experienced before.
Goodbye, Jaina. I love you.
In the corner of her eye, she saw Kyp's fighter explode.
--
They won, barely. But she does not feel like celebrating.
The cool early night air has taken away most of the humidity, and the hot sun
is now but a blink on the horizon. The sky is painted with orange and yellow
and purple, beautiful and calming.
But it doesn't feel beautiful anymore.
I never even said goodbye.
She thinks of him. She thinks of the only kiss they'd ever shared.
I loved him. But I never let myself admit it.
There is no visitor walking up to her. There will be no visitor tomorrow. The
sun is setting, and though it is beautiful, she wishes for those familiar
footsteps to come. She knows they will never approach her anymore.
Tomorrow the dew will set, and the sky will be changed yet again. But it will
different. It is different even now.
I love you, Kyp.
She knows it isn't a lie. She also knows it is too late.
Too late, too late.
The sun has set.
--
