--


The meeting is to take place at a newly constructed room made specifically for the High Council; a small chamber designated The Hall. It is anything but what its name suggests, however—its shape is circular, and its width spacious. Walking into the room for the very first time—and that was years ago—had taken my breath away for a moment; its simple elegance was both incredibly beautiful and most pleasing to the eye. Though despite its commodious taking, its architecture seemed to gleam with a certain humility that belied its glamour: a perfect design, I surmise, meant to reflect the lifestyle of the Jedi.

It is like a realm unto itself.

Even returning to this very place makes me slow my steps, if only to admire again the subtle beauty… and if only to remind myself why I am here this morning.

I've come hours early, to meditate and spend time in silence. I can feel a sense of foreboding tinge the air—or perhaps, it's just my nervousness.

Seating myself in one of the soft chairs that had been arranged in a perfect circle, I take a deep breath and forget my surroundings for a while—calming myself, preparing for what I know lies ahead. A technique that I had been taught years ago does little to calm my jittery nerves; even alone in the huge room, I feel as if I were being scrutinized, studied—and my concentration buckles, if only for a moment.

Focus! I scream to myself.

Plunging my consciousness into the energy that is the timeless Force, I find myself floating in midair, in a void as deep as space itself. I reach out with my hand, to touch the Darkness that looms all around me, and I am somehow able to entrap its might into my grasp. Suddenly empowered, I feel a rush of adrenaline surge through my veins…

More…

I catch Darkness again with my other hand, and my entire body shivers with the force of such an energy. I want more…

Releasing my tightly-clenched fists, I can feel the escape of my newfound powers rush through my being, consuming me slowly, until I am numb—

I recognize the dream all too quickly.

Then the Darkness suddenly envelopes me, and I try to escape its clutches, but I cannot move at all. I struggle against the holds of this unmistakable Evil, the same Evil I had wielded as my own only moments earlier. But my efforts are useless and in vain; I am a prisoner of the same Power I once controlled.

Stripped of my strength and utterly helpless, I can feel myself slowly give in to the increasing tide of Frailty wash over me, until—

Through the Darkness I see another, walking past my invisible chains and reaching out to offer a hand. I can recognize the stranger's face, the stranger's eyes; the stranger's presence. I want to take his hand, to let him save me, but somehow I refuse his help until I am completely swallowed by my own selfishness and the Darkness drowns me in its folds…

My eyes flutter open, and I give a gasp. I am in the realm of the living again.

The dream—or was it a vision?—fades into the back of my thoughts as quickly as it had come, and slowly I can feel the Force again. The aftermath of my nightmare lingers vivid and clear, though I had seen it too many times to be any more afraid of its meaning that I already was. I take deep, steady breaths, refocusing my surroundings and forgetting images of Darkness for now, and my eyes glance all around me…

And I realize that I am not alone.

At the door's entryway stands a figure all too well-known to me, a phantom that brings too many memories—some painful and bitter, others tantalizingly joyful; though all memories I would rather do without.

My breath catches in my throat.

The stranger approaches, walking out of the shadows, and towards the edge of the circle that carpeted The Hall's center flooring, steps heavy against the marble. Your hauntingly familiar face is revealed under the shower of the light that looms directly above the circle, casting strange hues onto your features. You look at me, sad eyes brilliant, and they seem to peer at me with such a sheer understanding of my soul that I feels as if, layer by layer, my shields are slowly being peeled away…

I am paralyzed by your presence, and my thoughts cannot help but wander to my dream...

There is utter silence in the chamber, an eerie weight to the air hanging tense and clouded. Though the tension is not uncomfortable—your simply being here is like a blanket of warmth against the cold I have faced for so long. Though neither of us dares to move, knowing full well that everything transpiring from this moment on could very well shape out futures—and, ultimately, would force us to look upon our past.

I try to greet you, to say your name—but my jaw is locked in a tumult of emotions, the very same emotions that would follow me wherever I had run.

There is no hiding from them now.

A maelstrom of a million dreams and a lifetime's worth of reminiscence flood my mind's eye, an awareness that had lain sleeping for so long. I remember the times gone long past, as if it were a whole other life in itself, the life that we both had once shared…

A life that I had turned my back on.

We stay that way for a long while, each of us simply looking into the other's eyes, each of us unwilling and stubborn enough to disallow a repetition of another confrontation like the one that had borne a rift between us both, years ago…

Each of us unwilling to give up the pride that we both know had once almost destroyed us…

Or, perhaps, I whisper to myself, you are simply wishing that I weren't here.

My breath becomes ragged and shallow, yet somehow I summon the strength to bring myself to my feet. Using the chair's armrest as support, I lift myself from my seat and watch you as you watch me with your piercing eyes. I can feel you through the Force, through the bond that we had once shared—and still share, no matter how I had ignored its existence through the years gone long by. Your presence is just as I had always dreamed it to be—strong, comforting, and assuring.

I suddenly remember…

I utter a prayer for guidance, for courage.

My throat is dry and refuses to cooperate, but I force myself to speak. Being an obstinate coward proved nothing except that I was a woman too proud to admit my faults. And I had many.

Perhaps, too many.

My knees threaten to fail me for a moment, but I do not let them. Instead, I give myself a second to focus on my surroundings and rearrange my thoughts.

And then I risk everything.

"Kyp."

My voice is surprisingly firm, and it echoes with a confidence that belies my former hesitation. I wait only a short instance until—

"Jaina."

I barely avoid flinching when you say my name; hearing your voice after so long threatens to bring my mind back to things I'd rather not face a second time. I nod at you and dare myself to finally conclude this unfinished task.

I try not to waste any time in small talk.

"Take a seat. We have a lot to discuss," I say to you, and you silently oblige, walking forward with your trademark ease and seating yourself on the chair just beside mine. I do the same, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline flow through my veins when I inadvertently brush my fingers against your hand. I think I see your eyes flicker to where I touch you…

It doesn't matter, I say to myself, interrupting my thoughts before they could proceed to a place I'd rather not let them go. Enough distractions.

Before I can say anything more, I hear you take in a sharp breath and ask me a question. "What are you doing here early?"

I let myself stare at a wall as I answer you. "I wanted some time alone." With you was what I had really intended to add, but my logic finds the words out of tact, considering the present circumstances. I swallow hard. "What are you doing here early?"

I don't see you, but I can feel your Force shields waver as I echo your own inquiry. You compose yourself just as quickly.

"I wanted to see you."

Blunt as always, aren't we, Kyp? I muse to myself, though I keep my silence and contemplate my next words.

Though truth be told, I am at a loss at where to start.

"Kyp," I say, "I…"

My voice trails off. Somehow, the words that I want to say seem to be infinitely determined to stay unspoken. Perhaps, I am simply too afraid of what might happen should I tell you, of what you might say, or what you might think of me…

Instead, I sigh, and lean back against my chair as far as I could. I still avoid your gaze, knowing that should I look into your eyes now you might read a thousand secrets that I've kept inside of me for so long, secrets that threatened to spill out of me at this very crucial moment if I don't contain myself. What am I going to tell you? What am I going to say?

So many more questions resound in my mind, and my head starts to spin at the thought of addressing them.

I am in the middle of my confusing contemplation when I feel your callused fingers stroke my cheek, and out of surprise I turn my head to look at you. As soon you look into my eyes I feel a deep sense of calm wash over me, as if telling me that everything is going to be all right.

I want to believe that. Force, I do. But I can't.

I turn away quickly and stand from my place, my back to you. Windows line the circumference of the Hall, all around us, and I stare out into the blue-green backdrop of Mon Calamari's skies. It strikes me as ironic that, no matter how I had tried to prepare what I was to say to you, I could do nothing to stop this cowardice from creeping into me.

Look what you do to me!

I know you couldn't have heard that thought, having my shields up so strongly against you. But perhaps you did, maybe, though I will never know…

Snapping my attention back to the here and now, I suck in a breath and take a step closer to the window.

It is now or never.

"I'm sorry I haven't been able to talk to you in a while," I start, speaking into the transparisteel, into the nighttime sky, vaguely hoping that my words might get lost in the infinity of the stars. "I never thought that I'd see you again."

I feel movement behind me, but ignore it. "Then why'd you never write? Or at least say something to me?" Your voice sounds frustrated. It only irritates me.

Out of my brashness I spin on my heel and stare at you, half in contempt and half in apology. "Do you think I hadn't tried to contact you?" I demand, hurt by your accusations. "You don't know how often I'd think of you!"

You crease your eyebrows and run a hand through your hair, as if thinking upon what you might say. "No, I don't. If you think of me so often, why'd you never reply to my letter? In three years, I haven't even heard from you!"

I hear a trace of something like sadness in your voice, and my demeanor softens. Yes, I remember your letter, and guilt slowly creeps into me. "Look, I'm sorry I've never replied. I only read it… yesterday."

My eyes fall to the floor, and in my peripheral vision I see you get up from your seat. "So you've see it already?" You ask, and I can only nod. "Then tell me, so I can leave, Jaina. What is your answer?"

My head snaps back up. "Leave? Did you only come here to taunt me and leave? Is that it?"

"No!" And I see you clench your fist, in obvious aggravation. "I didn't come here to leave. And I didn't come here to fight you."

I feel some rage of my own rise up my throat, but I tamp it down. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! And yet, my impatience gets the best of me. "Then what, Kyp? Why don't you tell me, because it seems you're simply wasting my time here!"

I curse myself for allowing the slip of my tongue. You flinch, and I see you walk a few steps further from me.

"Look, Jaina, I…"

You're hiding something. I can tell.

"… I came here to see you, all right?" You cover your face with your hand, and then let it fall to your side. "I had expected a more civilized General Fel when I came."

A flicker of rage passes through me. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?"

"That!" And I glare at you. "Not… Fel." I spit out the word with as much ire as I can. "I'm Jaina Solo! Is that clear enough for you? Or must I repeat it a hundred more times?"

"Don't even start." You sigh. "Force, why do you have to make things so difficult?"


"Difficult?!" My tone is harsh, and I fail to let myself notice how tired you seem. "You don't know the half of it! You don't even know how it is to lose everything you thought you've had all this time. You haven't had your heart broken by someone you've loved! You haven't given you heart away to one person just to see them tear it into a million pieces! Is that 'difficult' enough for you?"

I want to shoot myself for the words I'd just let myself say, and I watch as you shrink away and your countenance instantly changes, into one I'd never seen before. You slowly fall to the ground, onto your knees, and it seems as if all the strength you've had has slowly drained out of you.

What have I done?

I never take my eyes off you, and I want so badly to just pull you into my arms and apologize for all that I've said. But no. I can't, for fear that I might do something so utterly stupid again and just make matters worse.

But what could ever be worse than this?

Your head hangs low, as if in prayer; your palms are resting on your head. I wait a few more long moments.

"I'm sorry," I hear you whisper. "I'm sorry."

I want to cry. I want to cry over you, over what I'd done; I want to cry over everything that I've lost and everything that I have yet to. I want to cry over every single mistake I'd ever committed in my entire life.

What have I done?

I force myself to walk towards you, and you look up at me with those beautiful eyes of yours, entrancing me. They are suddenly sad and devoid of any trace of happiness in them, and once again I am stunned at what you can do to me by simply looking my way.

I want to fall on my knees and cry.

I remember the last time I'd seen you, before this; at the Last Battle, three years earlier. You'd saved my life, and I can only be eternally grateful. But we'd parted after a passionate argument, not unlike the one we'd just had, and even if I'd seemed cold and uncaring then, I'd unconsciously hated myself every day for allowing such a thing.

Now, as that thought left me, I realize that all this time, whether I saw it or not, I had always wanted someone like you to come into my life and simply take away all the hurt and pain that I'd ever had. I had always wanted someone like you to kiss away all the scars that I'd gathered through my long, hard years, and I had always wanted someone like you to, somehow, give me back the youth I'd never had.

The answer was always there, right in front of me.

Like you are, now.

"It's not your fault," I whisper. And then you search my eyes with yours, reaching out your hand.

I suddenly remember my recurring nightmares, and remember the handsome stranger that had done exactly as you do. I recognize the face.

It's you.

It's always been you.


--


There is a time in every being's existence, when a choice must be made, a choice that will forever determine that individual's destiny. It can come at any time, during the midst of any trial—and a choice must be made. Whether the choice is made years later, or at that very moment, it cannot be ignored. It could be anything: to kill, to love, to hate, to save, to live, to die, to fight, to surrender. There are no right and wrong decisions; there are simply different consequences, and different outcomes. This time of choosing is called the Ever Reckoning. It is the most important time in one's life, for never again can one reverse his or her actions, or turn back time. Anything can hang in the balance, whether it be the most simple and trivial of things, to another being's life, or even to the extent of the fate of an entire galaxy.

In the end, it is your choice, and yours alone.


--


I see the helplessness in your eyes, something akin to what wrenches my heart at this very instant. Maybe I was wrong to come here, maybe I was wrong about everything I had ever hoped we could be.

With my every nervous breath I think of you, knowing that you are the only source of life I can ever have, and ever need. Your face is clouded with almost a decade's worth of fighting, and there are age lines that sculpt your face, lines that shouldn't have been allowed to stay. I want to erase them all, one by one; I want to see happiness in your smile again, not a sad ghost of a grin.

I want to do so many things that I know I can never do.

Force, Jaina Solo, do you know just what you do to me?

My outstretched hand is yours to take; I don't know what made me offer it. Maybe it was out of vain wishing, that maybe you'd take it and forgive me for everything I've ever done. All I ever try to do right always ends up worse than it already was; somehow I've always gotten the feeling that you've hated me all this time for it.

Then, to my shock, you take my hand. I don't know if you sensed my utter disbelief, or if you could see it in my face. You then sit yourself on the floor with me, wearing a grin that I'd hoped for so long you'd have.

I am speechless.

"Thank you," you say, and I cannot describe just how many directions my mind is traveling.

"F-For what?" I stutter. "What do you mean?"

"For saving me."

Now I wonder if I had gone completely insane, or if I'm simply dreaming again. This was… not what I had expected.

I shake my head profusely. "I don't understand."

I know I sound like an idiot, but around you I always do. You will never know how much power you hold over me. In fact, I don't think even I would ever be able to comprehend it.

Swallowing hard, I try to remember the words I had practiced last night, on what I'd say to you, and how I would. I had meant to impress you, or at the very least hold a decent conversation with you, but I had screwed everything up again with my stubbornness.

Then, I think back on three years ago, and understand.

"Do you mean… for saving your life? I mean, that's long been appreciated."

You raise an eyebrow and sigh. "No, that's not what I was talking about."

This only confuses me more.

"Kyp, I…"

For a moment I expect you to tell me that Jag might be waiting for you outside, or that you might have other, more important things to attend to. But no, those dreaded words don't come.

"… I'm sorry for what I've said earlier. I wasn't thinking."

I nod, though feel very detached from this entire conversation. Everything is happening to fast; there are simply too many things I want—need—to tell you, to let you know, but I can't seem to say them. There are too many things I would have to risk.

But then again, it isn't like me to think before acting.

Well, that was years ago, at least. Somehow, I find myself weighing the consequences of my actions more often than I used to.

Perhaps, too often.

Sith, I can't take my eyes of you. It's been an eternity since I'd looked at you like this. You're so close to me…

I stop myself before that thought can go any further. This wasn't right.

"Long forgiven," I manage to say. "I'm sorry if I'm wasting your time…"

I start to stand when you stopped me, for a reason I will probably never know.

"Please don't go, Kyp."

However could I deny you?

I sit back down on the floor, leaning against the side of a chair, realizing that you are still holding my hand. An involuntary shiver runs up my arm, and I cannot help but feel like an utter lovesick fool. What are these emotions that I am drowning myself in? I had thought that I had already shunned my heart to stop feeling these things I feel for you—but even my heart won't listen to me.

If only I could tell you! But what can I do? Nothing… and so it's my little secret, a secret I've kept hidden for so long.

You look at me with those pleading eyes and I can't help but melt inside of me. Look what you do to me, Jaina Solo! I'm reduced to nothing but a shell of a man when you're around. Having you so close now only worsens my torment.

But then again, I figure I deserve this torture. I've done so much to warrant this agony; there was no justification not to take it.

I want to just smother you in kisses and tell you what my true feelings are, but I can't. I can't risk your happiness, I can't risk your ire, I can't risk losing the very little I have with you. But I can't tell you that, either, Jay. No matter how much I love you…

Even if it kills me.

I unconsciously suck in a sharp breath when your hand brushes my temple to sweep away a lock of my hair. I want to scream at you for doing such a thing, to make you stop wrenching me to pieces with your every glance. But I can't.

Instead I revel in the feeling, in the rush of happiness the breathes through my soul—even if it is only for the shortest of moments, and even if its aftermath is a deep sense of frustration and regret.

I want to stop you; I want to leave, before I lose control of myself. But I can't. I can't ever, ever leave you, even if it cost me my life…

Sith it, Jaina! You are my life!

But you don't know that. You can't hear these thoughts, or see these thoughts, the things I tell myself. No matter how badly, and no matter how desperate I am to let you inside my head, I can't let that happen.

You're already the blood that flows through my veins.

"I have so many things to tell you," you whisper to me, as if you didn't want anyone else to hear—even if the room was empty. "I don't even know where to start."

I let my eyes fall to the ground. My earlier confidence is no entirely gone, and I've practically let myself die before you. I try to speak, but my mouth is dry…

"I have this nightmare, Kyp. It comes every time I close my eyes…" And you tell me your dream, how the darkness surrounds you and swallows you until someone offers a hand. I cannot help but remember Hapes… though that seems like a past life, so distant and gone with the passage of time. It still hurts…

"… I didn't take that hand then. How dreadful a mistake I had made." You shake your head and relax your shoulders, as if suddenly relieved of a lifelong burden. "And then I realize now, that the dream was real. So real."

Out of sheer curiosity, I look up at you, and you are smiling, if only sadly. I can say nothing.

"You saved me, Kyp. Do you realize that? You saved me so many more times than I could ever repay you for."

"I wouldn't say that," I reply with a hesitant, if incredulous, chuckle.

"You're just being modest," you say, and I could swear a hint of amusement in your tone.

I scoff. "Me? Kyp Durron? Modest? I wouldn't say that, either."

"I'm serious, all right? You've done more for my family—for me—than any other person has ever done."

Before I can retort, you continue, though your tone softens, almost to a whisper. "Why didn't you come to my wedding, Kyp?"

"I was there," I blurt out, before even thinking. "I thought that maybe you'd know. You didn't want to see me, remember?"

"What?" You sit up straight, obviously surprised. "I never said anything like that!"

I feel a tinge of annoyance, but I push it away. "Your husband dropped me a visit before he went off to his bachelor party. He told me that you didn't want to see me at all—and so I listened to him. For the most part. Near the end of the ceremony, I watched from the back and tried to shield myself as best I could so I couldn't ruin your wedding."

You lean forward and stay silent for a few moments, until: "He lied."

"He what?"

"Jagged lied. I was hoping to see you then, and even if I wouldn't have admitted it then—well, I wanted to set things straight between the both of us."

My eyes fall to your hand, still in mine. Your finger is graced by a simple, yet beautiful ruby ring.

"How is… the Colonel?" I manage to ask, dreading the answer.

"We're divorced. He's fiancé to Shawnkyr Nuruodo. They have two sons now."

The millisecond of happiness that struck me was just as quickly replaced by a familiar numbness.

Get real, Durron! I yell at myself. You'll never have her! Never!

"Who are you engaged to, then? Zekk?" I gesture towards your finger.

Your face twists into a look of confusion, but then you break into a grin. "I'm not anyone's fianceé, Kyp." You laugh. "This is the ring you gave me on my eighteenth birthday."

I give the piece of jewelry a second glance and recognize it.

"Oh."

You chuckle again and lean forward to rest your head on my shoulder. How long I've prayed you'd do that someday! But I am suddenly struck with a case of paralysis, and I am immobile from head to toe. All I can suddenly feel is you… and you alone…

We stay that way for a long, long time. I am totally convinced that I have died and, somehow, gone to heaven. It would be the only reasonable explanation. Until—

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," you whisper into my ear, and I am numb all over until you lean forward to kiss me full on the lips.

Force, this just cannot be happening! I mustbe dead… this was, well, impossible…

It takes me quite a while to persuade myself that this was real. And even if it wasn't, this can only be the best thing that has ever happened in my entire existence. When my senses finally return to their normal state of efficiency, I find myself kissing you back—with all the strength I have within me left.

The kiss seems to last forever—until I find myself out of air. You pull away, looking me deep in the eyes.

"Please say something," I plead, and reach up to stroke your cheek.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?"

"Not that I remember, no."

"Then let me say it now. I love you."

I am shocked. No, more than that—there was no definition that could ever possibly describe my state of being at that instant.

"Please say something." Your voice brings me back to the present. Nothing else could ever escape my lips, except—

"I love you too, Jaina Solo."

"Are you serious?"

"More than you can possibly imagine."

You smile the smile that I've been yearning for you to have again, the smile I'd fallen in love with years ago. "So I guess that makes us partners, then."

I look at you, still wondering if this is really happening. "Till we both die."

You don't say anything. All you do is kiss me again, and again, and again…

All I can think of is you.

And only you.


--


Luke Skywalker already had one foot in the room when he walked right back out and shut the door.

"Are they there?" Mara asked, and behind her, Han Solo and his wife waited patiently for his answer.

He could only grin and nod.


--