Disclaimer: These characters belong to George Lucas. I've kidnapped them and made them do things they would never ever do. I will put them back when I am done. I am not being paid to kidnap these characters- I'm not a bounty hunter, or anything....

Author's Note:
This is a short little one-piecer without a plot. It's got a bit of Jag/Jaina and a ton of Kyp/Jaina friendship with maybe a few hints of K/J shippiness. Sorry.
I wrote this as an extra scene for Rebel Dream, after Jag takes Jaina to Lando's party with pre-invasion brandy. I strongly advocate Kyp/Jaina friendship in a Master/Apprentice relationship and blame Jag entirely for causing it to fizzle out in Rebel Stand. I also blame Jag for interfering with Zekk/Jaina when he tells Jaina that Zekk is no good for the B-Wing job. Die, Jagged Fel! Die!

A Lot To Learn
by Caitie


     Jaina Solo accepted yet another drink from Jagged Fel as she pretended to listen as Wedge and her uncle recounted one of their Rebellion-era exploits. She'd heard it many times before; growing up with famous parents and their legendary friends had its disadvantages. Jaina manufactured an enthusiastic smile and nodded intermittently to feign interest.


     She let her gaze travel over the rest of the party, which was being held in an empty docking bay. They'd started out in one of the common rooms, but the space had filled quickly, forcing them to move the large party outdoors. The night air was cool, and a pleasant breeze found its way into the open docking area. Music drifted to her ears over the din of the crowd. The guests themselves provided a festive rainbow of colors from the orange uniforms of the Rogue Squadron to the yellow and black flightsuits of the Tannab Yellow Aces. Lando Calrissian's celebration, like its host, was flamboyant and flashy, and laughter echoed throughout the room.


     It seemed as if the entire base had opted to attend. Everyone was here, celebrating together. Jaina noticed both high-ranking officers and the lowliest members of the janitorial staff.


     Try as she might, Jaina felt totally out of place. She wanted to leave now. The celebration seemed wrong and almost inappropriate to her. So many had died today, and more would die tomorrow, just like Jacen and Anakin had died. Jaina sucked in a breath and looked straight ahead, waiting for the inevitable tremor of her chin, bracing herself for the tears that would cloud her vision.


     They didn't come.


     And that scared her even more. What had she become, that she couldn't even cry anymore?


     Suddenly the din heightened to an unbearable level, making her ears ring. The lights blinded her, and her head throbbed in agony. The expensive brandy in her hand might as well have been nettle wine. Jaina fidgeted uncomfortably and wished herself anywhere but here. She wanted out and she wanted out now.


     She reached for Jag's arm, planning to tug on it and motion toward the door. What she saw when she looked up at him changed her mind. The young colonel was genuinely engrossed in her uncle's tales. The irony wasn't lost on her. She recalled their conversation at their second meeting on Coruscant, when he'd accused her of not being grim enough.


     "If the victory is not complete, then the celebration is false."


      "No, it's necessary."


      She smiled sadly. She'd been a different person then. This war had changed her; she wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. Everyone grows up sooner or later, but she had the distinct feeling that she'd lost something in the process, something important, something she'd never get back.


     "I'm tired," she announced to the group that had gathered around Uncle Luke and Wedge. Her mother eyed her with concern, but she continued before Leia could ask her for the umpteenth time if she was all right. "I'm fine, Mom. I just need a little sleep."


     To Jaina's embarrassment, her mom enveloped her in an awkward embrace. "Goodnight, Jaya," she whispered in her ear, using her old childhood name. "Sleep well."


     "Night, Mom," she said, as she pushed her mother away gently. Jaina looked at her father and realized she wasn't going to escape without another hug and a kiss. She must have really scared them with her stunt earlier in the week.


     Her father enfolded her in a fierce hug, squeezing so hard, she was sure she heard her bones crunch together. She was immediately shocked at how thin her father felt in her embrace. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She had one more reason to hate the Vong. As if she didn't have enough already.


     Jag touched her shoulder before he left. "Do you want me to escort you?" he asked, ever the stiff and proper Imperial, but the look in his eyes was anything but proper. Jaina smiled. If anyone had noticed that Jag's attentiveness to her, the way their hands brushed much too often, or the way his eyes lingered on her, they said nothing. Jaina liked Jag; she liked him a lot. The colonel was a special person, and, whether or not she cared to admit it to herself, he had earned an equally special place inside her heart.


  It was odd, how something so nice could come out of something so ugly. She looked down at her parents' twined hands, and at Ben, who was sleeping in his mother's arms, and realized that maybe it wasn't so strange after all.


     She moved out of Jag's grip and shook her head. "Don't bother. I'm just going straight to bed." She turned to walk away, waving at the rest of her family and friends. She smiled as a chorus of goodbyes and goodnights echoed after her. Jaina headed for the doors, jostling her way through the crowd. A couple times she nearly said 'excuse me,' forgetting her status as 'Goddess.' One blue-clad A-wing pilot shot her a nasty look as she was shoved her into her companions.


     "Cocky little princess," she heard her mutter spitefully. Jaina didn't blame her. She hated this stupid masquerade. Being a Solo and a Jedi Knight made it hard enough to make friends as it was; prancing around like she thought she was some Vong goddess made it impossible. Jaina hadn't expected such a dramatic difference; everyone had always assumed that she'd gotten special treatment as a Solo, anyway. To her chagrin, the fact that she was actually receiving it made it worse than she'd ever imagined.


     After what seemed like hours of pushing and shoving, she made it to the entryway and turned down a deserted hallway. As she moved down the nondescript passage, her headache got worse and fatigue overcame her. She could never remember feeling so completely bone weary, like she'd been obliterated. She couldn't even remember what she'd done to feel so tired. She stopped to lean against the wall and gasp. In the back of her mind, the part that wasn't reverberating with sheer exhaustion, she realized these feelings weren't her own.


     "Kyp," she murmured. The Jedi Master had drained himself earlier in the week when he'd helped her save Jag's life. He must've never fully recovered, but continued to fly anyway, the idiot. That was the only reason she could think of for him to drop his formidable shields and flood their relatively weak master-apprentice bond. She slammed her own shields down, dissolving the link. Instantly, she felt her own strength return, and Kyp's weariness recede.


     Jaina stood in the hallway, wavering between what she ought to do and what she wanted to do. Jaina knew that if Kyp couldn't even maintain his force shields, he must be in pretty bad shape. Duty won out. "I am my mother's daughter," she muttered. Jaina headed in the opposite direction, towards the barracks where the members of her Twin Suns squadron slept. As she was masquerading as the Vong's trickster goddess, Jaina slept in a suite fit for an admiral instead of the barracks. She felt mildly guilty about the extravagance. There was an empty bedroom in her suite that she planned to move Kyp to; he was her Master, after all, even if the bond was weak on one end and unwelcome at the other.


     She reached the men's barracks, marked with two yellow-orange circles to represent Tatooine's twin suns. She followed Kyp's unmistakably bright and confident force signature to the correct door and punched the panel, hoping it wasn't locked. Jaina sighed in relief as the door slid open with an audible hiss. She glanced at the beds of Kyp's three bunkmates. To her relief, they were empty; the pilots must still be at the party. She'd rather not have gossip about she and Kyp floating around the base.


     She moved cautiously towards Kyp's bunk, careful not to disturb anything that might wake the sleeping Jedi Master. That he hadn't woken already was enough to confirm her suspicions. An intruder's movements would be enough to easily awaken any self-respecting Jedi. The overhead lights detected her motion and flipped on, making her blink in the sudden glaring light. She reached over to the wall and faded them to a more tolerable level.


     She turned back to Kyp's bed and smiled at what she saw. The Jedi Master lay haphazardly on the bottom bunk, still clad in his tan Twin Suns flightsuit and boots. Jaina sat on the bed, careful not to bounce the flimsy mattress. Her caution was unnecessary; she'd lain on boards that had more cushion than the thin, hard mattress. She made a mental note to ask Kyp about that extra room tomorrow morning.


     Jaina tugged off one of her master's boots, then the other. Movement was awkward in the small space, and Jaina swore as she hit her head on the top bunk. She didn't know the code for his footlocker, so she pushed the boots under his bed, instead. She reached over and unsealed the top of his flightsuit to give his neck more room.


     When Jaina was sure of Kyp's comfort, she knelt at the foot of the bunk and examined her Jedi Master as he slept soundly. His dark hair, which he hadn't had the time to cut, had grown out of its military-style cut, and a few dark locks spilled over across his forehead. Her fingers itched to push them back, but she folded them instead, refusing to give in to the impulse.


     Nevertheless, almost as if they had a mind of their own, her traitorous hands moved forward to sweep the hair away from his eyes. As she did so, she noticed silver hairs around his temples, more from stress than age, she supposed. She knew that as much as people thought he didn't care- which was partly his own fault- the deaths of his two squadrons had weighed heavily on him. She had the impression that Kyp felt guilty for being the only one who had survived- twice.


     She wondered how one person could be so lucky. Or was he? Kyp had lived through so many situations where others had died, hanging on to life by sheer willpower. Her father had always called Kyp a survivor. He'd proved it again just a few days ago when he'd managed to save Jaina and Jag through an extreme use of the Force that had that left him drained. She supposed it was better than the alternative; any other Jedi would probably be dead right now. Jaina had known in the back of her mind that Kyp possessed more pure power than any known Jedi, but she'd never really acknowledged it until yesterday. If she had tried to pull that stunt, she'd be dead right now.


     She looked at the sleeping Jedi and shivered involuntarily. That sort of power was too great and too terrible to be taken lightly. Yet, if she hadn't known it, she'd never guess that the man before her was the notorious Kyp Durron, powerful Jedi Master. He looked so vulnerable in his deep sleep, so innocent and childlike. Sleep suited him; it softened his brow and the arrogant set of his mouth. Jaina thought he looked like the lost little boy he once was, and probably still was in many ways.


     Suddenly, Kyp stirred slightly, turning his head and groaned softly in his sleep. His movements brought Jaina back to reality, reminding her where she was. She was in the men's barracks in a man's bed in the dark. A blush rose unbidden to her cheeks; she feared that she would never outgrow the girlish reaction.


     Jaina reached forward and shook Kyp's shoulder gently. "Wake up, Kyp," she hissed. "Kyp!" Jaina frowned when he didn't move an inch. For the first time, she felt fear on behalf of her master. "Rise and shine, Kyp!" she tried again, louder this time. "Durron!" She shook him fiercely, jostling his shoulder. "KYP!"


     "Go away."


     Jaina's shoulders slumped in relief as she let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and continued to shake his shoulders. "Up, up, up!" she said, grinning wickedly. Kyp opened one eye and groaned as soon as he saw his tormenter. He turned over and buried his head in his pillow.


     "Get up, Kyp. Time to smell the caf." He uttered a foul curse into the pillow. She poked at him and smiled at his muffled protest. She rolled her eyes. "Such a baby." Jaina pulled the pillow from under him and held it out of his reach, grinning as he floundered.


     "Okay, okay. I'm up." A bleary eyed Kyp sat up and blinked at her groggily. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He twisted the last word on his tongue, making it sound like something ugly.


     Jaina took in his scruffy appearance, his uncombed hair, the stubble on his face, and his red-rimmed eyes in shock, forgetting her planned reprimand. How could she not have noticed?


     Kyp smiled at her. "I don't have a mirror, but I'm guessing that you're not staring at my good looks."


     "You… You…" Jaina was speechless. "You stupid, egotistical little monkey lizard," she spluttered. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"


     "I look worse than I feel," he assured her.


     "As if you've bothered to look in a mirror," she snapped. "What were you thinking coming to the sims, training, flying like this? Or were you even thinking at all?"


     Kyp rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. "Jaina, I realize that yelling at me makes you feel less guilty for not noticing that your right hand pilot has been half-dead this week, but right now my head hurts, so could you save it for tomorrow?"


     Jaina scowled at him. "I won't see you tomorrow. Or the next day, or the day after that, and maybe even the day after that." Kyp looked up at her as if he might protest, but thought better of it after seeing the look on her face. "Right?" she asked dangerously.


     "Right," he said wearily. His easy compliance alerted her of just how wiped out he must be, reminding Jaina of what she'd come here for. She pushed up her sleeves and handed him his pillow.


     "You lay down," she ordered, scowling at her Jedi Master.


     "Gladly," he murmured as he plopped back down onto his bed. "Would you turn out the lights when you leave. And make sure no one sees you," he added as an afterthought. "Not that your being here would hurt my image. It's yours I'm worried about."


     Jaina bristled. "How very thoughtful of you," she said acidly. "Of course, I know you're really just scared of my dad." She studied her nails as she waited for his reaction.


     "You bet I am. I don't have a death wish, which is why you should leave. Now."


     Ignoring his orders, Jaina seated herself on the edge of his bed and put a hand on his chest to keep him from rising. "You want the lights off. I'll leave as soon as you switch them off. With the Force," she added as he moved to sit up. She almost laughed out loud at the worried look in his eyes. "What are you waiting for? Surely the all-powerful Kyp Durron can flick one teeny, tiny circuit." Kyp glared at her. Jaina met his glare with one of her own.


     "Fine. I admit it. I'm drained," he gave in as he let himself fall back onto his pillow. "No that you care. I don't even know how you figured it out."


     Jaina scowled again. "You ought to. You're so Force-dry that you can't even hold up a thin shield."
She was gratified to see Kyp wince. "Sorry."


     "You should be," she said, recalling the intensity of the excruciating feelings she'd experienced, which made her reconsider her present course of action. She shook her head and braced herself. She owed this much to Kyp. She couldn't have saved Jag without him. Besides, Kyp had saved her as well, in more ways then one.


     "You're not the only one with an apology to make," she began hesitantly. "I don't deserve to command a squadron if I don't even notice what sort of shape my pilots are in. Especially one I'm bonded with."


Kyp, who didn't seem surprised at her apology, propped his head up on his elbow. "It's partly my fault. I tried to hide it from you."


      Jaina swept her hair behind her ear in frustration. "You know that wasn't it."


      "You've been a bit... preoccupied?" Kyp offered.


      "With the Vong, you mean? I know you think that this is all about Jacen and Anakin, but I promise you that my motivations aren't tipping towards the dark side of the scale," she defended herself.


      "That's not what I meant," Kyp said softly. "I was talking about a certain dark-haired, green-eyed someone."


      "Zekk?" Jaina asked innocently. Kyp shot her a knowing look. Jaina felt herself blush.


      "Jag has nothing to do with this, Kyp. He doesn't affect us."


      "If you say so." Kyp said, his tone skeptical.


      Jaina decided it was time to move on. The last thing she wanted to discuss with Kyp was her relationship with Colonel Fel. Instead, she pushed back the sleeves of her flightsuit and held out her hands, palms up. "Hands, please." Kyp complied with her request hesitantly and looked up at her with suspicion. She pressed her palms against his, fingers splayed. Realization dawned in his eyes.


     "You don't have to do this, Jaina."


     "I want to. Now shut up and let me concentrate," she ordered. Just in case he decided to yank his hands away, she curled her fingers around his. Of course, Uncle Luke had taught her that contact of any sort was unnecessary, but Jaina found that hand-to-hand contact made the exercise more effective. Jaina had used Force transfusions several times, but only for small amounts of energy. Kyp would need a much larger dose, as much as she could afford to give. She tried to ignore a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she vaguely recognized as nervousness.


     Jaina closed her eyes and concentrated on the energy inside of her, her essence, the stuff that made her Jaina. She mentally reached for the Force within her and around her and channeled it through her veins, towards their intertwined hands. The Force spilled from her hands to Kyp's, tightening their grip on each other and strengthening their Force bonds.


     Suddenly, Jaina was acutely aware of Kyp's body beside her and his aura around her. She wondered if he could feel her as intensely as she could feel him. Even as she wondered, her perception of the line between what was Kyp and what was Jaina blurred in the Force as her life energy continued to pour from her fingertips. Jaina pushed down with the Force, attempting to squelch the flow.


     To her dismay, Kyp's more powerful capacity for the Force seemed to be tapping her, sucking the Force from her body. Uncle Luke must've forgotten to mention this part, Jaina thought wryly. Jaina struggled to remove her hands, but Kyp's grip on her was too tight. "Kyp!" she cried out through the Force, her cry ringing in her ears. No response.


     Panicked, Jaina slammed down every shield she possessed. She winced as she felt rather than heard Kyp's cry of pain through the Force. When one side of a Force bond was abruptly cut without warning, the result was something like when your partner drops his or her end of a heavy load, so that your fingers get squished.


     Jaina blinked as she regained full consciousness, letting her hands go slack in Kyp's grip. She felt slightly dizzy and out of breath, as if she'd just run several klicks. She looked down into Kyp's pained eyes.


     "Ouch." he said pointedly. "That hurt."


     Jaina grimaced. "Sorry. You wouldn't let go." She examined him through veiled lashes and was relieved to notice that Kyp's eyes were brighter and more alert than they'd been before, and that a healthy flush had replaced his paleness. Even his grip on her hands felt stronger.
     "You didn't have to." Kyp said softly, his hazel eyes boring into hers.


     Jaina swallowed nervously. She hated it when he looked at her like that. And from his smirk, he knew it, too. She attempted a shaky laugh. "I couldn't have one of my best pilots off-duty for too long, could I?" she joked. "Besides, you're still my slave. Don't think you can get out of it just yet."


     Kyp smiled his slow smile, refusing to loosen his grip on her hands. She knew her change of subject hadn't succeeded in distracting him. "I don't mind so much," he said, his voice dangerously low. His tone invited her to acknowledge the double meaning of his words. Jaina didn't take the bait.


     "You might change your mind in a few days. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."


     Before Kyp could comment, the hatch behind her slid open, and the lights snapped on to full strength. Kyp released her hands abruptly and bolted up . Jaina stood slowly and turned to face a horrified Twi'lek that she recognized as Twin Suns Fourteen, a new recruit.
     "Beg your pardon, Great One," he stammered. "I didn't mean to interrupt..."


     Jaina flushed bright red. The young Twi'lek obviously assumed that something was going on between she and Kyp. And she couldn't blame him, not with the way Kyp had been ogling her, and her on his bed, and their hands… "No apology necessary," she said quickly. "I was just speaking to Master Durron about..." The pilot had already disappeared and the door hissed shut in her face. "Tactics," she finished.


     She plopped back onto Kyp's bed with a strangled moan, head in hands. The very last thing she needed was gossip about she and Kyp floating around the base. What if Uncle Luke heard? What if her parents heard? What if Jag heard? She lifted her head to look into Kyp's face, which looked every bit as stricken as her own.


     "I told you..." he began, his voice mildly apologetic.


     Jaina grabbed his arm. "Maybe I should go erase his memory. You know, rewind him a bit." She shrank under her master's disapproving scowl.


     "It's too late anyway. He's probably told half the squadron by now." Kyp stretched with a yawn.


Jaina stood and paced. She came to a stop in front of Kyp's bunk, arms crossed. "You can tell your bunk mates something."


     Kyp halted mid-stretch. "Like what? You want me to tell them I was instructing you in late night training exercises?" he asked sarcastically.


     "Anything will be better than what Twin Suns Fourteen is telling people right now," Jaina pointed out in exasperation. "Besides, you'll think of something, Kyp," she began, her voice bitter. "You're a good liar."


     Kyp sucked in a breath as if she'd punched him. She could feel his dismay through the Force. "All right," he said coldly. "Leave it to me."


     "Kyp..." Jaina started helplessly, not knowing how to take back the words she desperately wished she hadn't said. She crossed the small room and grabbed his hand.


     Kyp sighed as he looked up into her eyes. He reached up with his free hand and ruffled her hair in a gesture she found oddly parental and disconcerting coming from Kyp. "I know you didn't mean it." He stared past her, off into space. "Miko was never this difficult," he said, referring to his old apprentice.


     Jaina smiled. "Neither was Mara."


     Kyp snorted. "That I find hard to believe." He squeezed her hand once before releasing it. "You better head off to bed before your boyfriend gets back."


     Jaina stiffened. "Jag is one of your bunkmates?" she asked incredulously.


     Kyp pointed a finger up at the bunk above him. "The one and only."


     Jaina closed her eyes. Jag would assume the worst. What other choice did he have? She'd told him that she was tired, that she didn't want him to escort her back to her rooms, that she was going straight to bed. And instead, she'd come here. Jag would never understand. Jaina was beginning to regret letting that Twi'lek escape with his memory intact.


     She opened her eyes when she felt something brush her hand. She looked down at Kyp and tried to smile. "I'm fine," she murmured answering the question in his eyes. "Just make it a good lie, okay?"


     Kyp grinned. "Why don't I just tell the truth?"


     Jaina snorted. "Like anyone would believe that."


     "I'm not sure I believe it myself," Kyp admitted. "Why'd you do it?"


     Jaina shrugged. She supposed she'd done it because it was her duty, but deep inside she knew that she'd done it because she was curious. She and Kyp were something less than friends, but more than allies. They weren't involved, but they weren't uninvolved, either. Jaina liked to be sure of things, and she and Kyp's relationship was as cloudy as a summer day on Ylesia.


     As she looked into Kyp's eyes, just as confused and stormy as she imagined her own, she had a feeling that he understood.
     Jaina smiled at him and turned to leave, punching the door panel


     "Goodnight, Apprentice." Kyp called after her. Jaina smiled. She had wanted to define their relationship, and Kyp had done it for her, almost as if he had read her mind. Maybe he had.


     "Goodnight, Master," she whispered through the Force.


     The future might be clouded and blurry, but, for now, they would be simply master and apprentice, both sharing one destiny. Jaina grinned. One thing was for sure, they both had a lot to learn from each other.

The End

     I usually write Tamora Pierce, but I wrote this during a writer's block break from my feature fic. I hope you enjoyed it! Why am I such a sick, twisted, and crazy person that I went and wrote Kyp/Jaina? Well, the fact that I'm an obidala fan ought to explain it all. :-)It's definitely not the best thing I've ever written. In fact, I'd say it's the worst. Especially with all the errors (i.e.: The Tannab Yellow Aces were not at Lando's party, Jaina and her squadron slept in the biotics building, and I have no idea if there is even a Twin Suns Fourteen, much less if it's a Twi'lek.)
     If you enjoyed this, keep your eye out for a short Jaina/Zekk piece that explores what might have happened if Jaina had ignored Jag's advice and chosen Zekk as her B-Wing Pilot.