My first attempt at Star Wars fiction. Forgive me for any inaccuracies; the technical details don't interest me as much as the characters. I'm reading Rebel Stand now (from the New Jedi Order series), and this fic takes place at that time.
As AlwaysJaina Solo touched the keypad with the edge of her thumb and observed the display with a distant part of her brain. She couldn't concentrate on the information coming off the device, a simple battle maneuver. Despite being a New Republic squadron leader and elite fighter pilot, she still had a lot to learn about learning.
Her education had been anything but typical; having been either on the run, in hiding, or on a mission for most of her life, Jaina had little time to be ordinary. Although there was no denying that she loved what she did—flying dangerous missions and commanding a squadron—Jaina realized suddenly how much she wanted to push a button on the screen of her life and just make everything freeze for once. Then she could sit down and actually think, or just do nothing at all. Jaina knew that some people could do nothing at all, and she decided she might like to try it some time, just for herself.
Her finger brushed over the keys but still she could not focus on the words and images projected by the holopad. They seemed so meaningless and distant.
"Spacing out, Goddess?" asked a voice behind her, "Or is your brilliant analytical mind just running the data to discover more inventive battle tactics."
Jaina growled under her breath and forced herself to concentrate on the present and what her duties were. "Go fly into some ferrocrete, Kyp. I'm working as fast as I can."
Jedi Master Kyp Durron entered her vision from the left and stood beside her. But she had sensed him long before that; his very presence filled the room with the overpowering energy of a sun star. He didn't look directly at her, but she felt his touch on her mind.
"What's wrong, Jaina?" he asked more softly and more serious.
Pressing the fingers of her right hand against the ache in her forehead, Jaina tried to smile and project normal emotions. Normal emotions!
"I'm just tired and brain-dead," she replied nonchalantly.
She watched as Kyp rose and looked at her screen. "You should get more rest. Spend more time meditating."
"Ah, so I don't go to the dark side and become an evil Sith sorceress."
He didn't laugh. "So you don't drop dead of fatigue and stress on one of your missions and get us all killed."
"Of course, you're looking out for your own skin first," she teased, raising her eyebrows.
He moved away, towards the door, "As always, Goddess."
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Her work now done, Jaina sent the battle report to General Antilles and jogged down the corridor to get something to eat before she went out to practice maneuvers with Kyp and Jagged Fel. She had to keep up her image as the peerless squadron leader and convince the Yuuzhan Vong that she really did incorporate the powers of their trickster goddess, Yun Harla. This was part of the intimidation tactics that the New Republic was using against their newest enemy and it was hoped that by giving Jaina an air of mysticism and divine power, they could frighten and confuse the alien foe.
As far as Jaina was concerned, they should have picked someone else for the role of goddess. She was a good pilot but not the best. She was a strong Jedi, but not the most powerful. She had noble background from her mother's side, but no formal training or regal poise. Basically she was just an ordinary nineteen-year-old who liked to fly fast and fight with lightsabers. She wasn't even that pretty, although some people said so. Her hair was a plain brown and so were her eyes. She lacked her mother's aristocratic beauty and natural grace but dressed in rumpled clothes and always managed to have dirt under her nails or mechanic grease in her hair.
I'm a pilot, not a princess! Jaina complained to herself. They should have picked somebody else. But she was all there was. So here Jaina stood, Yun Harla the trickster goddess, trying to convince the Vong she could destroy them all.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jag approach, holding his flight helmet under one arm, his normally neat, dark hair tousled by the wind.
"The same routine, Commander?" he asked, without a trace of sarcasm. Jaina nodded absently, her fingers itching to play with his hair. From a pocket, he pulled a small holopad. "Message for you from Senator Organa Solo."
Jaina took it, surprised and wondering. When she pressed the control, a small, transparent image of her mother appeared from the device. "Hello Jaina," the Leia hologram greeted her, "Your father and I are leaving for Vannix tonight and I couldn't get a hold of you to say goodbye. We're on a diplomatic mission but I don't know what it's going to turn into. Talk to Wedge if you want more details. Anyway, we shouldn't be back for at least a week, so I wanted to tell you that we love you and miss you. Please don't take any stupid risks out there, Jaina. I need you to be here when we come back."
The holo fizzed out and Jaina flipped the power off. "Bye Mom," she murmured, forcing her emotions down again as she felt Kyp's presence suddenly and brilliantly fill the docking bay.
Jag hadn't moved and didn't look at her. Perhaps this was his attempt at being polite. She wanted to toss the pad in the trash and just fly off into nowhere but that would look callous and irresponsible.
"Let's get moving," she called to her wing mates. Jag climbed into his Chiss clawcraft and Kyp pulled off his Jedi robes to reveal the flight suit beneath. Unlike Jag's respectable regulation cut, Kyp's shaggy hair hung in his eyes and trailed down his neck. It was streaked with white, reflecting not his age but the trauma he had faced in his life.
Jaina pulled on her flight helmet and slid into the comfortably worn cockpit of her X-wing. After her R2 unit finished running the diagnostics checks she flipped on her comm. unit and spoke to her wing mates. "Okay boys, let's get up there already!"
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You were not supposed to get emotional in space, especially in combat. Jaina knew better than to go over her mother's farewell message in her mind and pull out all the hidden meanings and unsaid words. She must concentrate on the objective, and stewing over the emotional state of her broken family would not help.
She felt Kyp's mind connect with hers through the Force every time they fired, controlling her actions for the few split seconds so that their laser fire would converge perfectly. This was another battle tactic they had developed against the Vong. Two or more Jedi were remarkably effective if they could work together. Connecting through the Force had never bothered her before but she could feel a tension in Kyp every time it happened and now he tended to jerk away from her as soon as the maneuver was over. It was true that they were not as close now as they had been on Hapes but he was definitely avoiding her these days and Jaina felt a distinct annoyance towards him.
"Tighten up, One," Jag chided her, "You're a little out of formation."
Jaina pushed her mental battles into the back of her head and cleared her mind quickly with a simple Jedi technique. "Sorry, Two."
"Let's try another sweep," Kyp suggested. The three of them banked their ships and sped back over the practice field. Jaina reached for Kyp and felt him take hold of her, firing her lasers and the same moment he did. Jag was only a split second behind with his shot, and all three hit the exact same area. "Right on target, boys!" Jaina said, smugly. Together, this shield trio of the Twin Suns squadron—Kyp's X-wing, Jag's clawcraft, and her own X-wing—could take out more Vong then an entire crew of B-wings.
My squadron, Jaina thought happily, twisting for the next shot. We do okay.
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Kyp Durron pulled off his flight suit and stepped into the refresher, letting the water and chemicals clean his body. After the blast of drying air, he stepped out and put on another flight suit, pulling his Jedi robes over it. There was no telling when the next attack would be and he wasn't about to run back to his bunk to change while the sirens were screaming.
He had left the docking bay quickly so that Jaina and Jag Fel could have their make-out time without him getting in their way. For all he knew, the two of them could be smooching in the nearest storage closet. He reminded himself that Jaina was responsible and wouldn't let her affections get in the way of her duties. Unfortunately, Jaina had too many duties and he could tell they were causing a strain. She certainly didn't have a lot of time for relaxation with her life, always running off from disaster to the next. Time with Fel might loosen her up.
Stop it, Kyp, he warned himself, feeling the bitterness sweeping in. She's just a kid and she needs to enjoy herself. Fel is a good guy; he won't hurt her. Kyp had already hurt her, numerous times. First by putting her uncle Luke in a coma when she was two, then deceiving her into flying a mission for him a year ago, then messing with her family relationships when they were on Hapes. Oh, she had forgiven him, but he hadn't forgiven himself. And he wasn't about to drag her down into his twisted world again. Not now.
He remembered Jag saying that Jaina was destined only to be with a Jedi and then Kyp had told Jag she would only be interested in someone who could out-fly her. Jag was one of the few people that could, and he didn't even have Jedi powers. Kyp had tried to outdo Jaina, flying Kessel Run but she beat his record easily. They did alright together now, using the Force to connect, but she had gone to the guy who could fly better than she could, not the Jedi Master.
Mentally, Kyp began making a list for himself. One: you're too old for her. Two: you're the "rogue Jedi" bad-guy. Three: you nearly killed her uncle, the most influential person in the New Republic. Four: You deceived her and hurt her badly. Five: you're terrible with relationships anyway. Six: Jag Fel is a perfect pilot, leader, and soldier. He never does anything wrong. Seven: She really doesn't like you anyway.
Seven was a lot. He could probably think of more, but there were better things to do than wallow in self-pity. Not to mention the fact that wallowing was really starting to hurt.
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Running her hands through his thick, dark hair, Jaina laughed as Jag lifted an eyebrow. "I spent an hour fixing my hair this morning," he told her sternly.
"I'm sure you did," she teased. They stood for a moment in silence, alone in the cargo bay. Jaina held Jag's head between her hands and his arms wrapped around her waist.
"You acted all stiff when I got that message from my mom," she said at last.
"I didn't want to invade your privacy."
Jaina smiled wryly. "You think my family is strange, don't you? You think I'm weird and my emotional problems are even weirder."
"Let me consider this… Your mother is a politician and a former princess, your father was a smuggler and a general, your uncle is the leader of the Jedi council, and you and your twin brother are Jedi knights. What is weird about that?"
Smiling even harder, Jaina leaned her head against his chest. "What kind of family do you have, Jag? You still call your uncle 'General Antilles' and your dad is 'Baron Fel'. Don't you feel any closeness to them?"
She felt him sigh into her hair. "I was raised by the Chiss, not my father. I learned battle tactics, not social interaction. Emotion is still a strange, uncommon phenomenon to the Chiss, and I tend to have trouble expressing it."
"You're telling me! It took me forever to figure out that you liked me! I had to practically empty my soul to you to get any reaction," she grumbled into his flight suit. "Unfortunately, I do not have your emotional control. Sometimes I just want to scream at my mother for no reason! She has this strange ability to drive me crazy. How could she just…" Jaina's voice trailed off.
"Are you talking about Vannix or Coruscant?" Jag asked.
"Coruscant, I guess. There I was, paralyzed with grief and rage, and she's addressing the galaxy with inspirational speeches! I mean, it's like I'm alone in this little room, beating at the walls and everyone's just walking by. Maybe I'm jealous because I can't be like my mother and I'm just mad because everyone loves her so much."
Jag titled her head up. "Is this about your mother or is this about Anakin?"
Automatically, she pushed away from him, feeling herself close up and lash out. "Just leave him out of it! I can't… Jag, you can't possibly understand. You've never…"
He stood at looked at her stolidly out of his green eyes, waiting. Jaina felt herself closing up, burying her turmoil. "Sorry, Jag. I'm wasting our free time, aren't I?"
Shrugging, he reached out and caught her arm. She turned into him and kissed his ear. "I'm shutting up now."
"Okay," he said, embracing her again as her hands went up into his hair.
Her comm. unit beeped unexpectedly and Jaina sighed, switching it on.
"Commander Solo here," she growled into the receiver.
The voice of Wedge Antilles responded dryly. "Did I interrupt something, Jaina? I just wanted to make sure my nephew gave you that message from Leia."
"Affirmative," Jaina responded, "I got it, General."
"Well then, I'm guessing Jag is there with you, so could you send him up to my quarters as soon as you're entirely finished with him?"
Rolling her eyes, Jaina looked back to Jag, who was smiling subtly. "Yes, General, he's on his way." Her thumb clicked the comm. off and she turned to face Jag.
"You're wanted in the General's quarters, Lieutenant Fel. Better get moving."
He cocked his head and presented her with a rare teasing look. "Are you sure you're entirely finished with me, Commander Solo?"
In return, she gave him the traditional Solo glare, inherited from her father.
"Quite finished, Lieutenant."
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AN: Should I continue? I doubt many people will read this. Well, it was certainly relaxing to write. I'm just sick of the New Jedi Order authors ignoring Jaina, turning Kyp into a villain, making Jacen into some anti-violence philosopher-fanatic, and generally screwing things up. They should pay me to write Star Wars books! I would do it right! *laughs insanely*
Well, I just wanted to get that off my chest. Review anyone? No? Okay, whatever. At least it was therapeutic to write!