Disclaimer: Jaina Solo and all of the other characters are not. It's The Flanneled One's Universe, I just like to play in it.

Jaina Solo jumped out of the cockpit of her X-wing, taking off her helmet and shaking her loose and contrary hair. As a pilot, she had no time to do anything with it, and this last skirmish had been of the surprising kind, she had jumped up with klaxons blasting in the middle of the night and had no time to get her hair safely out of her face.

Safely being the key word. She had no necessity for extravagant hairstyles or fancy gowns; hers was a pilot's life, complete with constant helmet hair and orange jumpsuit. And yet, she was still a woman, and her life came with all the joys and complications of one.

The latter was caused by something entirely ordinary, and yet for Jaina this was completely new and therefore exotic and extravagant: men. As much as she disregarded her appearance, there was no denying that she was pretty; she had inherited her mother's rich hair and eyes as well as her slight figure. Over the years, she had caught many an admiring glance, especially in those times where she was flying as Rogue 11 with that most prestigious of New Republic Squadrons. However, such transgressions of etiquette had become less and less frequent in the last few months; as her status was upgraded from mere mortal to Vong goddess Yun-Harla, not many a man dared to glance her way.

But there were two men that knew the truth that did not regard her with some false, un-earned reverence. They did revere her, but for reasons quite apart from those of the ordinary citizen.

Jag Fel. He winked at her from his claw craft, and she blushed and strove to repress a giggle. They had many a late-night meeting, and were regarded by many as a sure thing.

It was true, Jaina reflected, she did care a great deal for the Chiss colonel. But. there was a certain feeling of wrongness in the force. The other night in the flight simulators, she had run against the program, secretly thinking that upon the outcome of this run her relationship with Jagged Fel depended. She made this remark as a mere joke, she considered her win a sure thing.

Thirty seconds later, her cockpit opened as she was shot down.

Jaina had spent the night dazed, and gently rejected Jag's advances. After he went sulkily away, she lay awake thinking. She had still been doing that when the klaxons blazed her out of her reverie.

She had come to a conclusion: she loved the second man.

He was far from perfect. He was a rogue, a rebel, with a dark stain upon his past. He had betrayed her. But when she herself had fallen, when she needed help, he had been there for her, to catch her. He had not strayed from her side since, he was her faithful protector, and guarded her with his life.

But after a while, he had betrayed himself. Longing glances when he thought she was not looking, barely perceptible pangs of pain in the Force whenever one of her pilots made rude joke about her relationship with Jag. At first, she was disconcerted, but as she lay to herself thinking that night, she realized that she loved him, too.

Jaina, though she never shied from battle, came to see that she had been afraid of herself. But as she stood there by her fighter, watching as Kyp Durron climbed from his X-wing and waiting for the rest of her pilots to file out of the hall, she vowed to be courageous.

"Kyp," she said nonchalantly, but with a certain power to it that made Kyp listen. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Kyp froze. She had guessed of his feelings towards her, and now she was going to reprimand him for them. She was right, of course, but those feelings were something so deep-set that he could not shake them easily. He had tried, to make both of their lives easier, but he had failed miserably. "Goddess, we have a meeting to attend in 0013 standard minutes. Shouldn't we get ready for that?"

Jaina felt hurt; he was avoiding her, clearly. But she tried not to let it show. "Kyp, I." she started, but was interrupted when Gart'h Broke, Tycho Celchu's aide, ran in.

"Goddess," he shouted breathlessly, "Urgent transmission from Master Skywalker! Your presence is requested in the command center immediately!"

Jaina hurried off, leaving behind a relieved yet vaguely disappointed Kyp Durron.

I have loved you for so long, I can't even remember when I started loving you. When you were little, and I was already a big boy, you helped me so much. I felt so dark, so alone, and I'd sit awake at night wondering, "Why?"

I didn't find the answer. But as I'd sit there in your father's apartment, sometimes you'd come up to me in your little pajamas, and look at me like you knew. You'd climb up into my lap and be there for me. Without you, I would have lost the fight against myself.

And then, you grew up. You grew away from me, you became less trusting. The war drove a wedge between us that we couldn't cross; I used you and I betrayed you. I can never say how sorry I am. Sorry not only for what I did, but sorry because you hated me. You - beautiful, intelligent, Jaina Solo. I know that then, at least then, my thoughts were nothing near platonic.

And then, Jacen and Anakin went away. You were hurting so badly, and it hurt me. I was more afraid than I ever had been in my life. What if you fell? The feeling was the most horrible thing I ever went through.

Now you're safe, or as safe as I can make you be. But where in your life is room for me?