This collection of scenes takes place between pages 270-282 of Star Wars: Legacy of the Force--Fury.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, but I do get my jollies playing in their galaxy.
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"Just shut up."
…
Jaina commed Syal with news of Jag a couple hours later, after the informal mission briefing but before Syal had a chance to badger Valin Horn. She decided she would find time to do that later, and made her way to the medical ward.
A 2-1B medical droid pointed her to an area of the ward that was quartered off by multiple sets of curtains; it indicated the section curtained off nearest the far wall was where Jag was. She walked through the maze of supply containers and medical personnel darting in and out of the curtains, and finally came to stand outside of Jag's "room".
Syal could feel her heart rate elevate, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her overalls. There was no reason to be nervous, she knew. Jagged was family, and surely meeting him again would be a joyous occasion. But in spite of herself, she couldn't help but feel tense. She was about to face a part of her life that she had always been aware of, but never really expected to ever have to come to grips with. The Fel family, for as long as she was alive, had been isolated to the Unknown Regions, with painfully little communication ever entering or exiting that place.
That's not to say there had been no communication. While Syal's father still had no contact with his sister, a young man leading a Chiss squadron had shown up out of the blue to contribute to the war against the Vong. That man had been the son of Wedge's sister, and was the same man that was on the other side of the curtain Syal was standing in front of—Jagged Fel. After spending years in the dark wondering of his sister's fate, Wedge suddenly had something tangible to grasp in Jag, an answer he had spent so many years searching for, and Jag's appearance had a profound affect on him, Syal knew.
Syal herself had met Jag only once before, at Borleias. She wished she could say that Jag had had the same profound affect on her as he did on her father, but that fact was that at the time Syal was twelve, and she simply wasn't old enough to appreciate the weight of the situation. Back then, Jagged Fel was just an older, good-looking cousin that Syal had never met before, and she vaguely remembered wondering how many other long-lost cousins she had scattered throughout the galaxy.
What she hadn't been able to appreciate at the time was Jag's natural aptitude for flying and the role he played in ending the war with the Vong. She still couldn't fully appreciate it, as she had never seen him fly in person before, and the only accounts she had of his abilities was her father's biased testimony. "I guess," Syal whispered to herself, "I'll have my own testimony in a few days."
Taking a deep breath, she parted the curtains enough to slip through. She looked at the figure that was sitting upright in bed, but with his eyes closed. If it weren't for the scar that decorated his forehead and the shock of white hair at the front of his scalp, Syal wasn't sure she would have recognized her cousin. He wasn't exactly the clean-shaven standard by which starfighter pilots were judged; instead, he sported a trim beard and a mop of black hair that was much longer than the last time Syal had seen him, all those years ago.
And—well, he looked older. Of course he did; more than ten years had passed since the last time they met, which meant that physically, they both had changed significantly. By Syal's calculations, Jag had to at least be in his early thirties. But that wasn't exactly why she thought he looked older. Really, his age had nothing to do with it; Jag was still the good-looking cousin Syal remembered him to be. It was the expression on his relaxed face that betrayed his maturity. He simply looked tired, as if he had spent ten lifetimes fighting for his life.
That tiredness evaporated somewhat when he opened his eyes. A brief flash of annoyance passed through Syal when their eyes met. Rugged good looks and stunning green eyes? Thanks for the lousy genes, Dad. But Syal could not stay annoyed for long, and her irritation was replaced by a childish giddiness at getting the chance to spend a moment with this man.
"Hello," Jag said. He did not smile, but he wore a pleasant expression on his face.
"Hi. Um." Syal smiled nervously at him. "I, uh, I don't know if you remember me at all, it's been quite a few years…"
At this, Jag gave her a small grin. "I'd be hard-pressed to forget the person named after my mother. It's nice to see you, Syal."
Syal could not control the ridiculous smile that expanded across her face. "It's really great to see you, Jag."
She took a seat in the chair that was already next to his bedside. Immediately, her knee began bouncing in nervous habit, so she rested her elbow on it to force it to settle down. For a few long moments they sat there, just looking at each other but not speaking. It made Syal a little uncomfortable not knowing what to say. What do you say to someone you haven't spoken to in ten years? Jag seemed to be at a loss for words as much as Syal was, which made her feel a little better, in an odd sort of way.
Finally, Syal blurted out what was really on her mind. "You know, it's really bizarre sitting here with you."
Jag gave her a perplexed look. "Bizarre."
Syal waved his thought away with her hand. "Not in a bad way. But look at where we are. Sitting here, on Endor of all places, and I'm talking to someone who is part of this life that is somehow connected to mine, that I've always know about, but I never really knew or understood. It's all so… so…"
"Bizarre." Jag snorted, finishing her sentence. "Yes, I can certainly agree with you there."
She stared intently at him, absorbing as many details of him as she could so as not to forget anything about him. "My dad spent so many years wondering about his sister, wondering how her life worked out for her, wondering is she was even alive. I can see why you changed his life just by showing up in the known regions. You brought a piece of his life back with you." She shook her head, still smiling. "It's all so surreal."
Jag stared back at Syal, his eyes searching her face as if he were looking for something. Then, apparently, he found it. "You remind me of my sister, Wynessa."
"Really?"
Jag nodded. "You both have this sense of curiosity about you. Always contemplating bigger things, wondering what else is out there." He smiled. "And you have the same smile."
Syal gave Jag her best Antilles grin. "I'd love to meet her one day."
Sadness touched his eyes. "I'd like to see her myself."
"Can't you?"
"I'm in exile, actually." His voice was inflectionless, but Syal couldn't mistake the hurt in his voice.
She felt guilty for bringing up someone else's painful memory yet again, but she was determined to keep this conversation positive. "I hear you're pretty hot behind a stick. I've actually been hearing about it for the last fifteen years, since my dad can't seem to shut up about it. You've got a pretty high standard to uphold—I hope you don't disappoint!"
That got a laugh from Jag, and Syal felt that was a minor triumph. "Well, I won't be flying my starship of choice, but hopefully things will go well enough."
Syal nodded. "I know what you mean. I fly A-wings and Alephs, usually."
"Not X-wings?"
She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Oh, you know, trying to escape my father's shadow and all."
He gave her an understanding glance. "I do know."
"That's right," Syal realized. "Son of the Empire's greatest starfighter pilot."
"As you are the daughter of the New Republic's greatest starfighter pilot. I guess we come from pretty good breeding stock."
Syal laughed out loud, thrilled to be having this moment with Jag. Having Jagged Fel as a cousin is so cool.
