But Ruth said, "Do not ask me to abandon or forsake you! for wherever you go I will go, wherever you lodge I will lodge, your people shall be my people, and your God my God."
-Ruth 1:16
xxx
Twenty-Seven Years After the Battle of Endor
As the Millennium Falcon completed its microjump, Jaina frowned in confusion. They had only been in hyperspace for a fraction of a second; just long enough to travel elsewhere in the system. "I don't get it," she said outloud. "There's another planet in the Corellian system no one knows about?"
"Not exactly," Mirax answered from behind in the passenger seat.
Jag gasped in recognition, and simultaneously Jaina realized the identity of the world. "Corellia?" she asked incredulously.
"Think about it," Mirax answered, obviously mournful but also pleased at her people's ingenuity. "Is there anywhere else in the system the Empire won't be watching? They'll ignore it because they've already destroyed it. Meanwhile, from the ashes of our world we rise up to claim vengeance."
The rest of the trip was silent, except for the battering the Falcon sustained from the turbulent, ruined atmosphere. Jaina could have sworn she heard the hull sizzling as it came into contact with the noxious gases raised by the Empire's bombardment.
The compound that served as the Corellians' base had a pressurized docking bay like a starship. Jaina and Jag traded nervous glances as they followed her down the boarding ramp to meet an assemblage of what they assumed to be Corellian Resistance soldiers. They saw a mixture of CorSec officers, Alliance soldiers, civilians, and others they were fairly certain were smugglers.
The man who appeared to be the leader stepped forward from the group and met Mirax with a hug and obvious relief. They spoke quietly while Jaina and Jag maintained a discrete distance; Jag winked at Jaina for no apparent reason.
Jaina had her mouth open to chastise Jag when the commotion started. One of the Alliance officer cursed loudly and drew his sidearm. Corran and Mirax immediately whirled to face him.
"Saunders!" Corran snapped. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"He's what's the matter, Commander!" he exclaimed, pointing his weapon at Jag. "He's a damn Imperial!"
xxx
Fallen
Commander Jagged Fel; 181st TIE Interceptor Squadron (male human from Corellia)
Commander Corran Horn; Corellian Resistance Leader (male human from Corellia)
Darth Starkiller; Sith Lord (male human from Tatooine)
Agent Jaina Solo; Alliance Intelligence; captain, Millenium Falcon (female human from Hapes)
Mirax Terrik Horn; captain, Pulsar Skate (female human from Corellia)
xxx
Loyalty
Jaina was careful to keep her hands visible and nowhere near her weapon as she stepped between Jag and the mass of armed Corellians. She was pleased to note that neither Corran nor Mirax had drawn their own weapons, though that would hardly matter if a firefight was in their future.
"Okay," she said, loudly but calmly, "let's all just be calm here."
"I don't know who you are," Saunders answered firmly, "but get out of my way or I will shoot you."
"That's a very bad idea, soldier," Mirax informed him. "That's Jaina Solo you're talking to."
"And that," Saunders retorted, indicating Jag, "is the commander of 181st. They've killed more Alliance pilots than any other squadron in the Imperial fleet. And it gets even better: he's a Fel."
Corran looked from his soldier to Jaina and Jag. "Let's have everyone lower their weapons," he ordered calmly, and everyone obeyed, though most of them continued to keep them unholstered. "Son, is what he's saying true?"
"No!" Jaina answered for him. "It might have been true once, but his presence here should be more than enough to—"
But then she felt Jag's hand on her shoulder, and he stepped forward so that she was no longer between him and the Corellians. He drew himself up to his full height, and to her dismay stated firmly, "It's true.
"I am Commander Jagged Fel of the 181st TIE Fighter Group. My father was Marshall Soontir Fel, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Starfighter Corps, killed during the Corellian rebellion. If you choose to take my life as well, your rebellion will have claimed the lives of my entire family."
xxx
"What is it, Admiral?"
"My Lord," Grand Admiral Thrawn greeted respectfully. "The Emperor" – Starkiller's father, who actually hated being referred to as the emperor – "has reassigned me to an operation in the Alderaan Sector."
The Alderaan Sector? Odd. The Empire had very little business in that area of space, especially for a core system. "Very well. Prepare the fleet—"
"My apologies, my Lord. Lord Vader specifically ordered the Executor not to be present for this operation. I wondered if I might take the Devastator."
Starkiller hesitated. The Devastator was the Executor's only support craft, but that was not the reason for his hesitation. Not only could the Executor handle itself, Admiral Thrawn's departure would give Starkiller even more latitude than he already enjoyed. The question that gave him pause was, quite simply, why?
Of course, he didn't really have a choice. Thrawn's request was a mere formality, and they both knew it. "Very well, Admiral. Good luck on your mission."
"Thank you, my Lord." Thrawn saluted and left the chamber.
Starkiller briefly attempted to resume his meditation, but quickly gave up the effort. Something was happening in the Alderaan Sector, and his father was deliberately excluding him from the operation.
Perhaps the moment of truth was approaching much sooner than Starkiller had anticipated. Perhaps the time had come to either confess his sins to his father or to complete the second great betrayal of his life.
Either way, he had to know what was happening. He needed to make sure someone he could trust was on the Devastator before it made hyperspace.
xxx
Jag was beginning to consider himself something of a connoisseur of interrogation rooms. This one was of the makeshift variety, as the Corellian resistance's base was really only equipped with three things in mind: sleeping, eating, and keeping ships in fighting condition. The closest thing to an interrogation room they could manage was a small private dining room adjoining the mess hall.
"Let's start with the obvious," Corran suggested politely enough after seating himself across from Jag. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm an Alliance prisoner of war," Jag answered succinctly. "I brought President Organa Solo what I considered critical information only to discover I had been betrayed by my commanding officer; since then, I agreed to help Captain Solo with her covert activities in the Corellian system."
"You consider yourself a prisoner of war?"
"Yes."
"And you're helping Jaina sow insurrection amongst the good, hard-working Imperial citizens of Corellia?"
Jag shrugged.
"You understand why one might consider those two things… contradictory in nature?" Corran asked reasonably enough.
"Most of my life has been contradictory, Commander Horn. Were you a part of the Corellian Rebellion?"
"Of course," Corran answered with evident pride. "It's my home planet."
"Mine as well," Jag said. "We have more in common than either of us suspects, I imagine. Let me tell you what you might not know about your battle to free the innocent, oppressed citizens of Corellia."
xxx
Fifteen Years Ago
Air raid sirens shattered the morning calm on the outskirts of Coronet.
No one really knew how to react at first. The alert system's existence was a mere formality; the sirens weren't even tested on a regular basis.
The sonic booms of a dozen X-Wings appearing in the sky over the capital city quickly removed any lingering uncertainty. Deafening explosions as the fighters began firing stunned the growing crowds in the streets.
As people began hurrying frantically to their assigned shelters, nine-year-old Jagged Fel was unsurprised to see two men in Imperial Navy uniforms striding purposefully towards his class. "Master Fel," one of them greeted the boy with a surprising amount of deference, "where are your brothers and sisters?"
"1500 hours; Chak is in flight class, Davin is at grav-ball practice, and Cherith is in science," Jag rattled off the memorized list of his siblings' schedules.
The officer nodded to his partner, who rushed into the confused crowd to try to sort out where Jag's siblings had ended up. In the meantime, the first officer started to lead Jag away.
"What's going on?" Jag prodded. "Is my father up there?"
"You know I couldn't tell you even if I knew," the officer chided.
Jag was about to press the question when the concussive force of an explosion sent him flying across the street.
xxx
Present Day
"Oh Force," Corran exclaimed, looking as though he had been punched in the stomach. "Jag, I swear to you, we didn't—"
"It was a TIE that had been shot down," Jag clarified, his voice surprisingly calm and emotionless. "Since then I've learned there's this funny thing about being a fighter pilot. You usually don't have to think about the consequences. The only reason I do is I've seen it from the ground."
"No," Corran said defensively. "You can't blame us for that. If the Imperials hadn't—"
"Hadn't what?" Jag demanded, silencing him. After a pause, he pressed. "Hadn't defended their homes? Their families? Why is that so hard for you to understand? To relate to? Is it evil to defend yourself?"
Corran scoffed. "The Empire doesn't defend people, Jag. If you believe that, you're delusional and there's no way I can ever trust you, and I sure as hell can't let you fly around with the daughter of the president of the galaxy."
Jag took a moment to compose himself before answering, "The Empire wasn't the aggressor that day, Commander Horn, as you are well aware."
xxx
Fifteen Years Ago
Jag's head was spinning as he pulled himself to his feet. He leaned against the nearest solid object – a parked airspeeder – and breathed deeply until he felt strong enough to stand on his own.
What he saw when he looked up provoked a wave of nausea that sent him back to the ground. The soldier that had been walking with Jag a moment ago was lying motionless on the ground, probably unconscious. The other soldier, and most of the large group of children Jag had been standing among just moments ago, were buried under the rubble of the collapsed school.
"No!" Jag shouted aloud, as though simple protestation could undo the carnage. "No, no, no, NO!"
Jag tried to run towards the collapsed school, but lost his balance almost immediately and lied on the ground sobbing.
No emergency vehicles arrived to help the survivors. The city's infrastructure had been thrown into disarray by the violent coup, and would remain that way until order was restored. Another officer was sent for Jag. He didn't ask any questions; the pile of rubble and sobbing nine-year-old answered any potential inquiry about the Fel family's whereabouts.
Jag was the only child on the last Imperial transport to leave Corellia; but, of course, in a way he would never again be a child.
xxx
Corran maintained somber silence until Jag continued, "Of course, I would later find out that my father had also been shot down in the battle for Coronet."
Corran shifted uncomfortably in his seat before saying, "Jag, I have to admit to you… I was Rogue Leader during the liberation of Corellia. We engaged 181st. I… I'm sorry."
Jag shook his head. "I know how dogfights work, Commander. There's no way you can know whether it was you or not. Maybe you killed him, maybe you didn't. My thirst for vengeance ran dry quite a while ago. The Academy beat it out of me and turned me into the disciplined, perfect officer they require." He smiled ruefully. "Or so they thought."
"You used your revenge to help you focus, to help you become a great fighter pilot. I lost my father, too," Corran said, obvious effort keeping his emotions at bay. And there was a moment of deep understanding between the men.
"I was only suspicious the Empire had been involved in my father's death," Corran went on. "And that was enough to change the course of my entire life. You actually know your father died fighting us. Why are you so willing to help us now?"
"I'm not," Jag pointed out. "I've been offered several chances to defect, and turned them all down. Prisoner of war, remember?"
Corran sighed in frustration. "You know what I mean. Jaina. Why are you helping Jaina?"
Then Jag gave Corran a look that made him feel as dumb as a Mynock. "Oh," Corran said.
"Yeah," Jag answered with a sigh.
Corran hesitated, but couldn't help but continue, "How? If you don't mind my asking."
"This conversation sure is getting informal," Jag noted with a frown.
"Sorry," Corran said. "I probably should have mentioned that the interrogation portion of this is over. I've always been pretty good at reading people… it's probably why I was such a good CorSec Officer."
Jag was so surprised he laughed. "CorSec? You didn't tell me you were a professional."
"You didn't tell me you slept with the president's daughter."
"I didn't think it was—" Jag stopped, but it was too late to correct the slip. "Oh come on," he protested, his face reddening as he was now dangerously near the verge of true anger. "There's no way you possibly needed to know that."
"No," Corran conceded. "But just because I'm not interrogating you doesn't mean I trust you. You must hate us. Even if I thought the Empire was otherwise good, I would still hate them because of my father."
"What you say is very true," Jag admitted. "When I was a child, I never really understood what the Rebellion was. But once my father died… that was it. You were all terrorists. A notion they didn't exactly discourage at the Imperial Academy, even when they were trying to force me not to feel any emotions at all."
"So what changed your mind?" Corran persisted.
"I was betrayed," Jag answered with a sigh. "By the last person I ever would have suspected.
"After the academy, I was one of the very few officers personally trained by Grand Admiral Thrawn in the Unknown Regions." Jag didn't bother calling himself elite; anyone who trained under Grand Admiral Thrawn was beyond needing any such distinction.
"He was the perfect commanding officer. He saw right through my appearance of discipline and constantly hounded me for letting my emotions get in my way. He succeeded where the Academy failed, and as a result I was the perfect officer.
"Everyone was jealous, but I was beyond caring about petty jealousy and posturing. Grand Admiral Thrawn had taken a personal interest in my career. I learned more about tactics from him than I learned in the Academy."
Jag shook his head. "That's the one part I never understood… it seemed like he pushed me so hard because he wanted me to excel. Like I was his protégé or something. And then… he betrayed me.
"About a month ago Grand Admiral Thrawn and Darth Starkiller called me in for a briefing. The Executor was going to be assigned to a force defending the construction site… of a Death Star, a superweapon they insisted was vital to the war effort."
Suddenly something clicked in Corran's mind. "That was you. You're the one President Organa Solo pardoned. No wonder you looked so familiar."
Jag winced. "Always nice to be famous… unless it's for something like this. Of course I expressed my strong objections to the use of a superweapon, but Admiral Thrawn kept insisting that it was tactically vital. It wasn't until later that I realized he was actually using me like a dejarik piece. His words took on a whole new meaning; betraying me was what was tactically vital.
"I was given a few days' leave; that might seem suspicious, but it's actually fairly standard before a major reassignment. Then I met Jaina in a bar on some backwater planet I don't even know the name of, and the rest is a matter of public record."
"So, that's it? After all that, you drew the line at superweapons?"
"I loved my father, Commander Horn. And if I could bring him back, I would. But the galaxy is bigger than me. Any weapon that can wipe out an entire planet in one shot is evil, and anyone who would use it is just as evil." He looked down at the table. "And my father isn't the only one I love."
Corran almost immediately understood the boy's meeting, and shook his head in disbelief. A Solo and a Fel? What was the galaxy coming to?
"All right, son. I can't promise you the others will warm to you immediately, but I have a feeling that's not something you're worried about." Corran stood, and Jag followed suit. "I know you said you weren't defecting, but it sounds like you know who the real terrorists are. What do you say? Would you like to join me and my men in the briefing room to discuss the most important mission in the galaxy?"
And Jag realized the answer was much easier than he had ever thought. It wasn't about Rebels and Imperials. It wasn't even about his father.
"I would be honored to fight on behalf of Corellia."
