BETTER DAYS
By Sapadu
A/N: On a request from Tenkai Nankobo. Actually, he asked for a similar story as the first one for a relationship between Ken and Jaina. This was, ultimately, the best I could come up with. Set much, much, much later in the CMC fic. Still, I tried to not write any spoilers in there.
Story 2: Drag Race
Jaina loved her speeder. She really, truly did. It understood her better than any living creature in the known universe, responded like an extension of her own body, attended to her needs and fit to her shape in a way that not even a lover could have done. Even compared to Zekk and their Joiners bond from the Unu nest, or her mutual partnership with Master Durron, or her deep connection with Jag as a fellow pilot, it was nothing to how she could just climb into the seat of her speeder and immediately feel as though she belonged.
It was like her mother's arms, but it smelled like her father's ship, and it was warm like her Uncle Luke's smiles and Aunt Mara's praise, and protected her like Chewbacca once had, but depended on her like Anakin and Jacen and, now that those bonds had been severed, Ben did.
"So, to answer your question, I guess it's because flying gives me real freedom." She finally surmised. The diminutive figure in the passenger's seat scoffed.
"If you love your speeder so much, why don't you marry it?" Ken sneered.
Jaina glowered at him.
"You're a real jerk, you know that?"
Ken's upper lip thinned against his teeth. It was a very unpleasant smile, one that Jaina understood why her uncle and parents were so uncomfortable seeing it on the Count's face. Even worse was how out of place it looked on his face, given it's shape and texture. It was almost like one of those horror drama holos that centered around an evil, demon child.
"Flattery will not sway me, Selle Jaina."
Jaina adjusted her seat enough that she could lean back and prop her feet up on the dashboard. It was Ken's turn to scowl at her, knowing damn well that she was just mocking him for having such short legs.
"Well, fine then. Why do you like flying so much?"
Ken slouched in the passenger seat, closing his eyes and propping his chin on the handle of that stupid cane of his. It looked horribly uncomfortable.
"...Well, for starters..."
"And if you even THINK of playing your 'I spent a majority of my childhood underground and the rest of my life on the ground' card, I'll kick your ass." Jaina put in before he could even start. The corners of Ken's lips twisted, as though he were contemplating arguing the point out, but was too tired to do so.
Jaina knew damn well that if she did any such thing, she'd be bringing the wrath of a majority of the Household down on her head. Frankly, though, she was hard pressed to care.
"Your uncle and your father are both great pilots." Ken finally said. Jaina mulled over this for a moment, before Ken continued, "And the majority of the men who I spent time with in the Alliance were the Rogue Squadron. Also great pilots."
So... it was a comfort thing, then? Or was it the great memories that flying brought back? Jaina couldn't figure it out.
"When I flew with Luke, I was always right behind him in the X-Wing. I could hear the humming of the ship and the whirring and clicking and beeping of Artoo in the compartment behind the cockpit... it was like I was part of the ship, itself. Then, when Captain Solo actually let me come on board the Falcon, I felt every bump in the ship's hull and the individual pieces of the ship's computer and her engines and pipes and wires as they tugged and pulled on each other to keep everything together. Nothing was uniform about that ship, and every take-off and every landing was different, every single time. There were so many voices on that ship... so many stories..."
Ken's voice had started to drift off in a mumble. Jaina had to snap her fingers in front of that stubby nose to wake him up. When she did, Ken jolted straight up, then cleared his throat.
"The bottom line is that the ships and their individual personalities were all fond memories for me. It's always something I miss – to be completely surrounded and immersed in a different being than myself, like I'm some part of a greater whole." Ken attempted to make himself sound more dignified and grown-up as he spoke.
Ken was a lousy liar. Jaina had figured that out by now. She'd been listening to Ken and Ben's heart to heart chats when they thought nobody else was around – she didn't trust the Count alone with her only little cousin as far as she could throw him.
She also knew that if she called him on his big fib, it would only get into a discussion about what made a man a real man, as opposed to a sissy.
Her speeder was no place for socio-cultural discussions of gender roles.
"What kind of music do you listen to when you fly?" Ken finally asked. Jaina hadn't been expecting that.
"Music?" She asked, raising her eyebrow. Ken just shrugged.
"Flying is just as much a social activity as it is a practical method of transportation. Just like eating, sleeping, education, and work, you have peers, friends, and rivals based on everything from the kind of vehicle you pilot to your style and skill with the controls." A pause. "So... yes, music."
Jaina stared at the simple outlay of her speeder's control panel. It had speakers built into the dashboard so she could communicate with other pilots in case of an emergency, but she really never bothered to install a music system in with it. The only real piece of equipment that could do that was the comm radio and she tuned it to frequencies for music programs rarely, if ever.
"Anything, I guess. Whatever's playing on the music channels." She mumbled. There was no way in the Krethin Hells she was going to admit to this little jackass that she didn't really listen to music when she piloted.
"But there are some genres you listen to more than others, right?" Ken pushed, "I know that I can't listen to pure instrumentals unless there's heavy percussion – otherwise, I'd fall asleep while I was flying."
There, Jaina would admit to him having a point. Just not out loud.
"Well... I guess I do have to have more... lively music. Something that matches how flying makes me feel. Something with a good..." What was the word for how she felt when she flew? Beat? Tempo? Rhythm? "Pulse. Something that wakes me up."
"Pulse, huh?" Ken mused, tapping the handle of his cane against his chin, "Good word for it."
High praise, indeed, coming from this pompous little bastard.
"What about you?" Jaina asked. In response, Ken flicked one finger in the direction of the dashboard's controls, twisting the comm radio on and fiddling with the frequency until it hit an appropriate channel. Jaina had kind of expected Ken to show rather than tell, so she didn't protest his use of the Force on her speeder's radio.
What she hadn't expected was to hear a Lammer song coming over the audio. One of his really raunchy ones, too.
"...Why am I not surprised that you listen to music written by pretty, sparkly men?" She finally asked when the chorus finished. So, the lyrics were not really for innocent ears – it was definitely music with a 'pulse' and who was she to argue with art?
"They're not all pretty." Ken said with mock indignation, "...Some are merely fabulous."
Jaina had to fight to keep her face straight, mostly because she refused to give Ken the satisfaction of making her laugh. After a moment of a tune she didn't recognize drifting through the speakers, Jaina moved her toe over to tap the button and turn the comm radio off.
"Wanna hear how the engine sounds?" She asked, sitting up and righting her seat. Ken did the same and strapped the restraints in place.
"Hells yes."
Jaina pressed the ignition button. Under her seat, the whole speeder vibrated as the engine powered on, the floor heating up with the rods in the ion engine and the repulsors lifting them off the garage floor. It was that old, familiar feeling that made Jaina feel even more alive than anything else. It was all about control – something her speeder gave her, but could just as easily take away, and she had to keep it, concentrating at all times so she didn't lose it for so much as a single moment.
Then, with a smooth, gliding motion, the speeder pulled out of the House and flew off into the skylanes of Coruscant traffic. The wind rushed against and under and over the speeder, tickling with Jaina's skin and hair in ebbs and flows as she picked up or reduced speed.
It was the most perfect bliss of all.
-Drag Race-
"Has it ever really bothered you?" The question came as the speeder waited at a traffic-control intersection. A very, very long traffic-control intersection. Jaina had almost forgotten she'd had a passenger until she looked over to see the Count staring off into the endless rows of buildings that made Coruscant's skyline.
"What?" She asked. Ken shrugged.
"I've talked about it with Ben a lot... I just figured it wouldn't hurt to get some different perspectives."
It took Jaina a moment to realize Ken was talking about Anakin Skywalker.
She continued to watch the signal. When was it ever going to be her chance to go?
"Not really." She finally answered after a second that felt like an eternity, "Some people mention it, occasionally. But nobody's ever really treated me different just because of my background."
Ken snorted. It was as though he knew what a bald-faced lie that was.
"Kidnappings for ransom or leverage don't count." Jaina finally snapped. Ken was still giving her that look, "In truth, people do treat me differently, but that's because I act differently. And, let's face it, I've done some pretty crazy things. Especially during the Yuuzuhan Vong war – after all that, I'd say any grief I get from other people is grief that I brought on my own head."
"I see." Ken's voice was deathly quiet, right to the point that Jaina wanted very much to be anywhere other than in the same confined space as him. When he spoke next, it was a normal voice, "What about your brothers?"
Jaina shrugged, herself.
"Anakin never seemed to have any problems. I never noticed it, he never said anything..." And that was the truth of it. For the one of them that had been named after their grandfather, Anakin had been the one to deal with the least prejudice out of all of them.
Jacen, on the other hand... well, look what Lumiya had done to him.
"You know, the fact that Lumiya went after Jacen and not you says something about your character." Ken finally mentioned. Jaina turned her head enough to see that Ken was no longer slouching, "In terms of skills and abilities, you two were mostly the same. So, the fact that she wanted Jacen as her apprentice means she knew you would be too strong for the Dark Side."
That was her signal. Jaina accelerated a bit more roughly than was probably legal. She didn't mind – she was angry. And when she was angry, her speeder was angry, too.
"So, Jacen was weak? Is that what you're saying?" She snarled, pushing on the accelerator a bit more, as though more speed would prove her correct.
"Sure." Ken said, remorselessly, "That's a compliment to you – you weren't. That made a difference."
Jaina continued to push her speeder to go faster. Other vehicles that were floating in the sky were starting to blend into a string of lights and colors as she flew past.
"You're a jerk." She hissed. She didn't see Ken smirking.
-Drag Race-
Jaina finally started to ease up on the engine when the House was back in sight. She only barely brought the speeder to a stop inside the garage and jolted backwards with the sudden halt. In the passenger's seat, the jolt shook Ken until he groaned and started shifting.
As she looked over, one of Ken's hands came up and rubbed at his eyes in an almost childish gesture.
"Did you SERIOUSLY fall asleep while I was speeding around Coruscant like a madwoman?" She demanded. If it had been anyone else, their knuckles would have split from gripping onto the seat so tightly. Here Ken was, sleeping like... well, like a kid.
He shot her one of his best cocky smirks.
"Compared to how my sister flies, that was a leisurely stroll in the park." He pointed out.
Jaina suppressed a shudder. She knew it was true – her single experience in the Monster had proven that.
Ken dug his cane out from under the seat and pulled himself out of the speeder seat.
"Hurry up – your father's still in his 'Eight simple rules' stage and liable to shoot me if he doesn't see we got back before midnight."
Jaina gave Ken the best dirty look she could muster, but did indeed follow him back inside the House. Just as expected, Han was still up and glared at Ken as he limped to his chair.
"If you two ain't dating, what business do you have keeping my daughter out so late?" Han finally called as Ken swung his legs up over the armrest.
"We were bonding." Ken replied, somehow managing to keep a perfectly straight face, "You know... girl talk."
And then, Jaina couldn't help but laugh, as well, at the look on her father's face.
A/N: Yeah... that cow's milked. Next!