Title: Touch and Go
Chapter: Part Seven: "Tynna"
Author: bactaqueen
Author's e-mail:
Category: New Jedi Order, EU
Keywords: Jaina Solo, Jag Fel, NJO
Rating: PG
Spoilers: New Jedi Order up to Balance Point
Summary: Space battles, pilot banter, and pre-romance interaction. After Ithor, Rogue Squadron was deployed to the warfront in the company of Spike Squadron. What happened between Jaina Solo and Jag Fel?
Disclaimer: "Star Wars" is copyright George Lucas and Lucasfilm, LTD. Jagged Fel is copyright Michael A. Stackpole. No profit is being made from this writing. It is purely for entertainment. As his own people put it, the sandbox belongs to Mr. Lucas. I'm just playing in it.
Part Seven: "Tynna"
Jaina Solo settled more comfortably into her padded ejection seat, keeping a loose hand on the stick in front of her. A vista of the stars stretched before her, brilliant white pinpoints of light against a clean darkness, a view uninterrupted even by a heads-up-display. Simple perimeter patrols didn't require full battle status, just standby. In fact, the only reason her fighter's S-foils were spread was to keep up appearances. If the need arose, the HUD would be up in less than a flash on an order from Sparky.
But for the present, the young Rogue lieutenant could enjoy an unobstructed view of the galaxy she was trying to protect.
Behind her current position and well off to her starboard spun the beautiful blue-green globe the shrewd Tynnans called home. In a high, slow orbit around the planet, Admiral Kre'fey's larger cruisers were a show of New Republic might as they waited. Their positioning was perfect for observation of all forces within the system, and that pleased the Tynnans even more.
Two and a half days ago, Intelligence had confirmed that Shedao Shai's battle group was still in pursuit of Kre'fey and the refugees he was protecting. Intelligence had also informed Kre'fey and his decision-makers that a layover between jump points had delayed the Vong fleet by at least a day, and when the fleet had jumped, only half had jumped in the direction of Tynna. They couldn't say where the other half of Shai's group had gone, but now Admiral Kre'fey had a whole extra day to implement his plan.
Negotiations between the Bothan admiral and the Tynnan leaders had been short and to the point. The small aquatic mammals had been practical in their approach of the situation, and both sets of brass had found that their agendas could easily mesh.
Admiral Kre'fey wanted a place to make a stand. The Tynnans were aware of the movements of the Vong fleet and the fact of the enemy's lack of sympathy, and they wanted their people protected. So Kre'fey was willing to take on more refugees, and the Tynnans were willing to place the fate of their planet in the hands of the task force.
'A mutually beneficial agreement.'
She remembered thinking of the Tynnans as realists when Colonel Darklighter had made the announcement at the squadron briefing the day before. Unlike some of the New Republic leaders, the Tynnans seemed to understand the invasion was something everyone would have to fight. Together.
Which was another reason Rogue Squadron was on patrol duty. The Vong weren't expected for at least another shift, but the most famous fighter squadron the New Republic controlled gave displaced refugees a sense of security. This was the squadron that had killed a Death Star and taken Coruscant, after all.
'Relegated now to baby-sitting.' That was how Colonel Darklighter had put it, his lips twisted into a wry imitation of a smile. Jag Fel had expressed a similar sentiment when she'd passed him in the docking bay after her first patrol shift. He'd told her it was politics.
"Political baby-sitting," Jaina said aloud, as much to herself as to Sparky. She started to chuckle at all the images that particular phrase brought to mind.
Xada Rostin seemed to miss the humor as she swore at Jaina over the wing-to-wing frequency. "Sithspit, Sticks!"
Jaina sobered. They'd been running silent for so long that she'd forgotten about the open comm channel. Apologetic, she looked up, and found the underside of Xada's X-wing above her and half a klick ahead. Even as Jaina offered a sheepish smile, she knew it was futile. At this distance, Xada could see only a bobbing head.
"Sorry, Twelve," Jaina commed, appropriately abashed. "Forgot I had an audience."
"Yeah, I forgot you did, too." Xada hissed an audible sigh, and Jaina sensed a great deal of agitation in her wingmate. After a beat, the other officer asked, "So, what about political baby-sitting?"
Despite the confusion Jaina felt at her wingmate's anxiety, she smiled faintly. "Just thinking about what the colonels said."
Xada's laugh was a sharp burst of static. "Have to wonder about a man who doesn't like baby-sitting and has, like, twenty kids."
Jaina had to chuckle at that, in spite of Sparky's reprimand. "Colonel Darklighter never did like baby-sitting, Twelve. It's not something he hides."
"I'm not fond of it, either," Xada grumbled.
Through the Force, Jaina felt a more pointed spike of tension from Xada and connected the feeling to the words. "Is there something wrong, Xade?" she asked carefully, using the nickname on purpose.
The comm unit buzzed, filling Jaina's head with the annoying sound, and her short, brash wingmate began to speak. "I just have a bad feeling about Tynna, Sticks. I mean, I always get jittery when I have too much time to think before a battle, but... You know, this is different. There was no time for us to be worried at Garqi." Xada had flown with another X-wing squadron at that engagement. "Ithor we saw coming from a klick away. Gyndine was inevitable, I think. But this, Sticks. This is something else."
Xada fell silent, giving Jaina time to absorb what had just occurred.
Lieutenant Xada Rostin was a tough woman. Raised on Coruscant, she was only three years out of the Academy and already a veteran. She was an amazing pilot; that's why she'd transferred into Rogue Squadron after Ithor. Xada had always seemed so confident-but then, lack of confidence killed pilots as certainly as enemy weapons did. Now Xada sounded confused and more than a little scared. That worried Jaina.
Because either her wingmate was burning out, or she felt something Jaina didn't.
"There's nothing here they should want," Xada continued, voice low. "It's just a planet. But we have its people, and nothing the enemy does makes any sense anyway. I just can't shake the bad feeling I have about this. It doesn't even make sense." The self-deprecating quality to Xada's tone and subsequent bitter laugh couldn't be destroyed by the garbled connection.
Jaina shook her head slowly but emphatically. "No, Xada, it does make sense. It's normal-it's war."
"You're seven years younger than me, kid," Xada said, her voice sharp and old. "You're sixteen. And you're telling me that having these doubts is normal. It's war. That's really sad, that you have enough experience to make me believe you, you know it? For that matter, we're both pretty damned sad. Should be green as grass," Xada murmured, "and we're having this conversation."
The truth of Xada's words startled Jaina. So badly that she didn't quite know what to say. It had never really registered on her before, not even when Jag had pointed it out so tactlessly. She was young, and so was Xada. Too young, maybe.
As she tried to come up with a suitable reassurance, Jaina's eyes scanned the sensor displays built into her cockpit board, just below the forward canopy. There was nothing amiss there; the blue dots that signified friendly ships were exactly where they were supposed to be. The orange and yellow blips of the refugee convoy were steadily moving toward the jump point, in the company of a heavily armed escort team consisting of frigates, gunships, and starfighters.
But like Xada, Jaina couldn't shake the sudden feeling of doom. It tickled in her gut first, causing Jaina to doubt it. She and Xada had been talking about bad feelings; this would be a natural reaction. When Jaina's danger sense chimed in, however, she was inclined to believe it. She opened her mouth to agree with her wingmate.
And she was too late.
They seemed to materialize from nowhere, first the frigates, then the cruisers and the larger warships. They emerged from hyperspace less than ten kilometers from Jaina's position. 'They nearly came out on top of us!' Jaina's cockpit alarms started singing, and so did Sparky. The viewport in front of Jaina lit up immediately in shades of green, and her HUD immediately began tracking targets.
Xada had one final comment before switching from the private channel to an open one: "I think I hate being right."
Xada made the calm announcement over the open frequency to the rest of the Rogues and the fleet. That gave Jaina time to study the sensor readouts and the text report from Sparky. Even as Jaina's shields came up to full and Sparky suggested that the Rogue wingpair withdraw until help could arrive, she knew that wasn't an option. No matter how smart it was.
No, the furball was going to take place right here, whether they liked it or not. The Vong had caught them off guard. Over the comm, Jaina heard Colonel Darklighter ordering all Rogues to the scene. As he did so, the larger Vong ships began spewing coralskippers into the space around them.
Xada and Jaina were forced to go evasive, jinking and juking their snubfighters, waiting for reinforcements. Jaina knew that the admiral was scrambling more fighters. Sleeping pilots would again be jolted out of their racks and into battle.
This was only half of the pursuing group, Jaina realized with a start. She was distracted from that thought by a skip passing through her kill zone, begging to be vaped. She poured laserfire into the void off the skip's tail and abandoned any thoughts that weren't of the battle. Those could get her killed.
Jaina got only a bare warning, a dangerous sense of something about to happen. Mistaking it for soon-to-be damage inflicted by the skip currently harassing her aft end, she put more effort into her evasive maneuvers.
She saw the cruiser in her viewport, and she was aware of Xada's fierce concentration on her prey. Jaina opened her mouth to call a warning to her friend, recognizing the Force tingle for what it was. Almost.
"Xada-" she managed, before it happened.
The cruiser opened fire. One long burst of plasma from its living cannon was enough to overload Rogue Twelve's shields and rip through her ship. The explosion was dramatic, a chain reaction from nose to stern.
Jaina felt Xada's surprise, and then nothing. In the space Rogue Twelve had occupied floated only debris. There wasn't even enough left to salvage. Jaina's heart sank, and for a moment, her resolve wavered.
Then she remembered she was fighting a war.
"Rogue Twelve is gone," Jaina called stiffly over the comm. She sent her X-wing into a dive, chasing after the last skip Xada had wanted. "Repeat, Rogue Twelve is gone. I'm going to need some cover here pretty soon, guys."
Sparky's moan was mournful, and Jaina used the excuse of inertia to grunt. She didn't have time to grieve for her friend at the moment. There'd be time for that later. For now, she had to make the enemy pay.
A swarm of blue blips clouded her aft sensor screen, and then Rogue X-wings and Spike clawcrafts were soaring past her canopy to challenge the enemy. Briefly, Jaina felt relief; she didn't have to handle this surprise all on her own. But she'd known she wouldn't. Space around her, already filled with fighters, came alive with friendly and unfriendly fire. Jaina saw coralskippers explode, and over the comm, heard the excited furball chatter.
"I have your wing, Nine."
"Lead, break port!"
"I'm hit! I'm hit!"
"Calm down, Six. What's your status?"
Jaina didn't allow the noise of her comm to distract her from the task at hand. She had a coralskipper in her sights, and she was pouring stutterfire into its void. Somehow in her chase of this skip, she'd acquired a tail. Two Vong fighters. Their audacity was maddening. So was their competency.
"Need some help, Rogue Eleven?"
The voice was glib and patronizing. Jaina knew exactly to whom it belonged.
"I thought you'd never ask, Spike Lead." Jaina bit off the curse that threatened, as the skip took a turn she hadn't expected. "Please."
Jag's clawcraft swooped in from somewhere off to port, lasers blazing at the coralskippers on her stern. Jaina spared enough of her concentration to see that Jag's shots had hit. Her pursuers were no longer plural.
"Thanks, Spike," she said, at the same time depressing the primary laser trigger, sending a powerful quad burst of energy at her target. The yorik coral of the fighter bubbled where the lasers hit, and the cockpit exploded. Jaina hauled back on her stick to loop her X-wing back toward the main fight.
As Jag's fighter came back, firing doggedly at the remaining enemy fighter, he accepted her thanks.
"Not a problem, Rogue Eleven. Always glad to be of service."
In search of other targets, Jaina shook her head briefly. By now she was accustomed to Jag's cockiness in a dogfight.
"Care to rejoin the fight?" she offered.
Finished with his prey, Jag's clawcraft settled in near Jaina's. "I'm your wing."
The orders Colonel Darklighter relayed to the Rogues came from the Ralroost and made as much sense as any orders adapted for unexpected instances do. Admiral Kre'fey had abandoned his ambush plan entirely-it wasn't working, anyway. He sent the forces charged with that assignment toward the furball on the fringes of the Tynnani system, and gave the order for the refugee convoy to full-speed it out of the system. The Aces were ordered to escort the convoy, as were the frigates, gunships, and a single corvette. Their progress could be tracked via jump confirmation transmissions over the battle frequency.
Colonel Darklighter, Colonel Fel, and the other commanders of the squadrons engaging the Vong directly gave out a more pertinent set of orders for their pilots to follow: take the fight to the fleet. Admiral Kre'fey wanted to meet the foe halfway.
That suited Jaina a lot better than fighting on a battlefield the Vong had chosen. Here, the New Republic forces were without the aid of any big ships packing deadly punch. The skips were protected by their bigger warships, and the starfighters fended for themselves.
Colonel Darklighter even had a strategy. "Run toward our ships," he said. "Make sure they follow you. Then just stop. Midway there at least, people. Get 'em in range of our big guns."
And so they did. Other units followed Rogue Squadron's lead. The skips weren't so eager to follow. Only a few came within range of the Roost's or the Champ's guns, and only two of those perished.
"They don't want us," Jaina said, the realization hitting her with an almost physical shock. "This was just-"
"A ploy." Colonel Darklighter sounded grim as he finished Jaina's thought. She knew her commander was thinking the same thing she was. 'Casualties-Xada-and for what?' "This was nothing," the colonel said. "A trick to trap us, reduce our numbers. The admiral thinks so, too. We're being ordered to fall back, Rogues. Your droids have the coordinates. Tynna was an exercise in diminishing tactics, but we saved the refugees."
It seemed to Jaina as if Gavin was grasping for something, anything, to justify the deaths here.
"The refugees," she murmured, and heard half a dozen echoes.
In the distance, the big ships were turning, gathering speed and short-range fighters, taking only a few stray shots at the enemy. This defeat seemed to hurt more than the others and it wasn't even really a defeat. 'Must be 'cause we were played,' Jaina thought.
"Cover retreat, Rogues. Wait until the fleet jumps, then we jump. Same as always." Colonel Darklighter hesitated, and then finally said, somberly, "We didn't lose today. We kept civilians alive. Just remember that-one for many."
A chorus of comm clicks served as his only response.