Title: Changing Course
Chapter: Chapter Twelve
Author: bactaqueen
Author's e-mail:
Category: New Jedi Order, Alternate Universe
Keywords: Kyp Durron, Jaina Solo, NJO
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: New Jedi Order up to Rebel Stand
Summary: Jaina Solo had a tough road back from the Dark Side after the death of her brother. In the process, according to canon, she earned Colonel Fel. But what if she hadn't? What if Kyp Durron was her redemption?
Disclaimer: "Star Wars" copyright George Lucas. Characters copyright respective owners. No profit is being made and no infringement is intended. Characters and situations inspired by the Enemy Lines duology, written by Aaron Allston, and in some cases, the situations have been modified for the purposes of this story. Again, here, no profit is being made and no infringement is intended.

Changing Course: Chapter Twelve

The doors to the special operations docking bay were open to the humid afternoon. Techs had already descended on the Starlancer vehicles. Those pilots had already disappeared. Jaina knew they were in a debriefing, probably trying to determine exactly how successful the day's mission had been.

Rogue and Vanguard Squadrons had stayed back in orbit, cleaning up the last of the Vong force and transmitting all kinds of misinformation "by order of the Goddess." Jaina had had nothing to do with the order.

She was shaken. She felt as if she were crashing after a caf high; her palms were sweaty, her skin was cold, she was trembling, her eyes felt gritty and wouldn't focus. It was a bad combination of an adrenaline high, pressure, and the innate knowledge of her own foolish mistakes.

The comm crackled to life. An anonymous voice ordered Jaina to land in the kill zone, near the biotics building.

Jaina double-clicked an acknowledgment and modified her approach vector. She didn't have to use the comm to let her wing mates know what the new orders were. They were so deep into a Force meld-with Jaina and Zekk lending Kyp their energy-that she had only to think it and they complied.

Someone was waiting for them. As Jaina set her X-wing down on its landing skids, she was able to make out the identity of the man. It was Colonel Celchu. He did not look pleased.

She powered down her ship and popped the canopy. She had a pretty good idea of what was to come. It wasn't as if she'd never been in trouble before. But she could make the decision to delay it, so she could gather herself. It wouldn't do to break down into tears in front of the general, after all. And it would be embarrassing.

There were no techs or deck crew members to roll a ladder up to her ship, and there were no cranes to pull her R5 unit from his socket behind her cockpit. Jaina peeked over the edge of the fighter.

"Guess you'll just have to stay," she told her droid.

He tooted agreeably.

Jaina hopped over the side of the cockpit. She landed in a crouch on the charred ground, using her knees, hips, and the Force to absorb the impact.

Kyp had set down less than three meters from her. Jaina strode over to his ship and stood, looking up at the canopy. She had to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. Kyp poked his head over the side.

"No help?" he called.

"I'll catch you," she offered.

Kyp mustered a smile. "I don't think you could, Goddess."

Zekk came to stand beside Jaina. "Hey, we could try."

Jaina thought she heard Kyp mumble, "Kids." Then he was over the side, landing too heavily in front of her. She rushed forward and grabbed him, her hands on his arm to steady him.

"Hey," she said quietly. "Are you all right?"

He looked up. Their eyes met. And she knew he wasn't.

"I just need some rest," he told her, and offered a small smile. "I'm getting old."

Jaina said nothing. As she turned, she didn't let go of his arm. Zekk moved to Kyp's over side, not touching, but there just in case. The Jedi Master didn't stagger, but he did let Jaina take some of his weight.

Tycho sized them up as they approached. "Anybody hurt?" His voice was neutral, his face expressionless.

That bothered Jaina. "No. We're fine."

"Durron?"

"Tired."

"Go lie down." Tycho's gaze settled on Jaina. "General Antilles would like to see you." It was an order disguised as a request. Jaina didn't need the Force to read that.

"Yes, sir."

"What about us?" There was Zekk again, throwing himself between Jaina and the line of fire. How could she have ignored that before?

"Later. Goddess first." Tycho turned. "Please follow me."

Jaina turned to Kyp. "Get some rest."

"Yes, Goddess." But he squeezed her hand in thanks.

She let him go. He was barely managing a walk, and she knew that once he got out of sight, he'd use the wall for support. Jaina turned back to Tycho. The older man started for a set of blast doors. Jaina followed.

And Zekk moved up beside her. She shot him a glance. "You don't have to come with me."

"I didn't have to save you from that interdictor, either." He gave her a smile. "I want to."

Jaina's smile was grateful. "Thanks."

The rest of the walk from the kill zone to Wedge's office was made in silence. As they passed through wide, decorated hallways, Jaina couldn't notice details. Her mind seemed to have locked on to what was going to happen once she followed Colonel Celchu into that office.

It had been a stupid, desperate decision to ask Kyp to kill that interdictor. To reenter the combat zone in direct contradiction of an order. As a squadron leader and the Goddess, she wasn't allowed to make stupid decisions. For the sake of one pilot-one professional who'd been well aware of the consequences of his actions-she'd risked not just the Starlancer operation, but possibly the entire war. Jaina knew this. The Goddess was the best hand the New Republic had, and in her desperation, she'd nearly hit the randomizer.

Desperation. And failure. More of the same. Would the cycle never break?

Tycho held up a hand. "Wait here," he said. After one last glance at Jaina and Zekk, he disappeared into an inner office.

She looked around. They were in a waiting room. A young non-com sat at the desk beside the inner door, and he was staring intently at a monitor display. Ignoring them. Jaina noted that the corporal was armed. A secretary who could double as a security guard. Leave it to Wedge to be efficient.

"It'll be all right," Zekk offered softly. "You're alive, all of your people are alive, and Starlancer was a success."

"I don't think this has much to do with the ends, Zekk," she returned.

He laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "It's going to be okay," he insisted.

She trapped his hand to her shoulder and mustered a smile for him. "I know."

The door slid away. Tycho stood there. He pointed at Jaina. "You. Now."

"Yes, sir." With one last squeeze, Jaina released Zekk's hand and entered the office. She steeled herself. She would not cry.

General Wedge Antilles stood on the other side of his large desk, hands clasped at the small of his back. As the door slid shut, Tycho went around Jaina to stand at the side of the room, near one of the pale blue walls. His face remained blank as he copied Wedge's stance.

Wedge's face was not blank, though it was carefully controlled. There was a tick in his cheek and his jaw was clenched tight. His eyes were hard, cold. In that moment, Jaina forgot everything she knew about Wedge as a kind and warm-hearted man. She saw a justifiably angry superior officer.

"Would you care to explain to me why you disobeyed a direct order?" His voice was a hard as his eyes and as controlled as his face.

Jaina didn't gulp. She didn't fidget. She stood stock still, at attention, and stared past Wedge's shoulder. "Sir. I had to save Zekk."

"The life," he began, voice dangerously low, "of one pilot is not worth sacrificing the war for, Lieutenant. I don't care what kind of relationship you have. You know this. You were given an order. You aren't given many orders. The few you are given are to be followed. Explicitly. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're unstable. What you did today was unacceptable and can't go unpunished. You're grounded."

"But he's alive, sir," she ventured softly.

"By some stroke of luck! Don't push the odds, Jaina. You can't win every time. I'm not sure you understand that. So you're grounded, pending an evaluation. You and Latt and Piggy will have to work something out, but your decisions as a commander are questionable. I'm not willing to risk the best chance we have of winning the psychological war. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." At least her voice didn't waver.

"Don't ever do anything that stupid again, Jaina. You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Jaina clicked her heels together, straightened to full attention, and saluted quickly. Then she made an about-face and fled the room.

Wedge watched her go. He was impressed with how well she'd managed to control herself. As the door closed once more, he slumped down into his chair.

"I feel old, Tycho."

"That's because she's so young."

"Did I do the right thing?" Wedge looked up at his friend and advisor.

"Grounding her?"

Wedge nodded.

Tycho looked thoughtful. "It could hurt her position if Sharr and Piggy don't come up with a really good story. But they will, so I'm not worried about it. I think it'll be good for Jaina. She is unstable. I think she needs to consider her priorities. It's time. This will give her an opportunity."

"So I did the right thing?"

Tycho nodded. "Yeah, boss."

"Then why do I feel like I just pulled the plug on a friend?"

"Because you're that kind of guy, Wedge."

He sighed. "Damn."

She waited until she was beyond the outer office before she began to run. She passed conference rooms, communications centers, rec rooms, even sleeping quarters without seeing them. As she had the last time she'd failed.

Stupid. Wedge was right. And she was right to have known what he'd say. Grounded. Mistakes. Unstable. Desperate. Wrong. Death. Dark.

It came. It tinged her vision, spots of black and red. She was afraid. Afraid of herself, of what she was capable of. What was she capable of? Everything. Murder. Lies. Betrayal. Maybe even suicide.

After everything she'd been through, was this how it would end? Would her desperation to save another life-not to fail-fill her and force her to throw her life away?

When had she lost control over that? Over her life? And why didn't she remember it?

Jaina found herself in front of an unmarked hatchway. She frowned. It was a hatchway like any other: tall, square, blank gray steel. It wasn't pretty. None of them were. The hatch wasn't what was important, though.

What was important lay beyond the hatch, in the room. It came to her in a shocking moment of clarity that made her gasp. Kyp. Her stability, as ironic as that was. Willing to do anything for her.

Even die. She could feel him, even from the hallway. He was tired, exhausted, more-he was completely drained. He could very well die, and why? Because she'd asked it of him. Because she'd been unable to handle the idea of Zekk's sacrifice.

She hadn't thought of what it would do to Kyp. It hadn't occurred to her what might happen to him later, after. She'd taken for granted that he wouldn't tell her no, and she'd never realized it.

Jaina punched in the door code she knew by heart and marveled at the new realization. Kyp had, in so short a time, become everything she'd lost. A haven. A touchstone. Her lifeboat.

She didn't wait for the door to finish opening. She ducked into the room and into the darkness beyond.

The door slid up, and then it came down with a hydraulic hiss that seemed impossibly loud in the silence of the room. She stepped in and waited for her eyes to adjust. Dust motes danced in the few lances of sunlight that streamed through the slatted window covers. The light fell across the still form of a lone figure on the bed.

He was lying on his back, his hands resting on his stomach. He still wore everything but his helmet, which was on the floor beside his bed. His shoulder-length hair was damp and matted to his head. His flight suit was wrinkled and rumpled, stained by sweat. It looked as if he'd simply fallen.

Jaina crossed the tiny room, angry. Angry with herself for making such foolish mistakes. Angry at him for being such a blasted idiot. Angry at whoever it was who'd decided to give Kyp this room-it was entirely too small. Angry at the designers of the window slats. How the hell did they work, anyway?

After struggling considerably, she managed to open the window. It was dark and hot and stuffy in the room, and apparently the air circulation and conditioning didn't work. Some air flowed in from outside, and the day was cooling off. The light streaking in was enough for her to see by.

She turned to the foot of Kyp's bed. It protested loud enough to wake the dead when she grabbed his leg and lifted it. Kyp didn't move. She held the heel of his boot in one hand and used the other to unzip the side. She yanked hard, then discarded the boot somewhere behind her. It fell to the floor with a thunk and was soon joined by its mate.

Jaina moved closer to the head of his bed and carefully lowered herself to the edge of the wide bunk. She pulled his flight gloves off and his hands felt cold and clammy in her own. His breathing was shallow. She moved her hands to the neck of his flight suit and checked for his pulse. His heart beat slowly, sluggishly.

The anger was gone. In its place was sympathy and just a bit of fear. She was more gentle when she unbuckled his weapons belt and pulled it away from him. She dropped it on the floor and let it lie.

Jaina sought the Force, and then Kyp. The Jedi Master was normally white-hot, burning like a brand new star and easy to find. Now he was dim. She had to search for him. And that disturbed her.

Kyp was a faint presence, wraith-like. His normally formidable energy was sapped. He had used what strength he had left to harden the shield around his heart, keeping it pumping thick, sluggish blood through barely-responsive vital organs. He had slipped into a healing trance and he wasn't in deep enough.

Jaina sent tendrils of her own Force energy skimming along the edges of his shields, little more than a metaphysical caress.

Kyp started violently. The bed squeaked. He jerked again and gasped. Jaina laid hands along his face and she sent him calming thoughts.

"It's all right," she murmured audibly. "It's all right. It's me, Kyp. Master. Let me in. Let me help."

'Don't do it, Jaina. I could kill both of us.'

'So could I.' She kept her voice low and soothing as she said, "I owe you. You did this for me-please, just let me help. I know what you need, and I can do it."

For the space of several long, slow heartbeats, Kyp did not respond. Then she felt him in her mind. 'I've never had to do this before.'

'You've never destroyed an entire warship single-handedly before, either. Looks to me like there's a first time for everything,' she returned, matching his uncertainty with wry humor.

Something inside him sparked, and it could have been laughter.

Jaina leaned closer to him. She placed a hand over his heart. 'You have to let me in, Kyp. You don't really have much choice.'

'I don't know what will happen.'

'When has that ever stopped you?'

The argument was wasting precious energy. She knew that. So did he. His shell was weakening. Without waiting for his permission, Jaina forced the link between them wide open. She formed in her mind the image of a hand with long, strong fingers. They clasped another hand and the fingers entwined. The link grew stronger. It was a lifeline, a desperate grip. Jaina poured herself into the link. He grew stronger.

Then the lines between them became blurred. Unclear. Memories jumbled together-a slave or a kidnapped child? Thoughts mixed, tumbled. 'Who am I? Do you know? Do I? Scared. Angry. Alone. Hurting.' Feelings clashed, then meshed-

no love me don't can't stand it you like this angry so sad so scared lose it all

Confusion. Fleeting impressions, senses, desires. The images, half-formed thoughts, came swift, incomplete, fuzzy. It was like listening to the 'Net and changing stations too quickly to catch the gist of anything.

dark cold lonely make me happy don't look at me don't hurt me don't protect me never never see you back never see him alive dead dead all dead millions murder galaxy Force never find peace never know

It was like flying through cloud cover with dead sensors. It was fog, pain, heartache, and too little hope. It was midnight permanently.

Something shattered the confusion, strong and sharp and abundantly clear: 'Thank you.'

The room was dark and stuffy and somehow too cold. Jaina opened her eyes groggily. Her body ached in all the wrong places for all the wrong reasons. She felt as if she'd spent the night sleeping on a bed of jagged rocks. Not that she hadn't ever done that before... Her mind felt wrapped in bantha wool. Briefly, she wondered what it would take to clear her mind of that wool and use it to wrap her body in. She was cold.

But she wasn't willing to do anything about it. It hurt even to think too hard. So she groaned and squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in the rock closest to her.

Something warm and solid slid across her back. Lighter, warmer things stroked her hair away from her neck. Slowly, Jaina became aware of the fact that rocks didn't breathe, weren't warm, didn't wear flight suits, and didn't have a warm, masculine scent. Most rocks, anyway.

Jaina mumbled something. Even to her ears, it sounded unintelligible.

"I can't hear you."

Her jaw hurt in several different places. She wondered why. She didn't remember being punched. Maybe that meant she'd lost the fight. But the link she shared with Kyp was still open. So she sent instead of speaking her question, 'What time is it?'

"Late," he said. "Twenty-three hundred or so, I'd say. There's no moon."

She gave a sigh. 'Did we really sleep that long?'

"Who slept?" he countered softly. He stroked fingers across the back of her neck as her head fell to his shoulder. "Thank you, Jaina. You brought me back."

'What goes around comes around. Besides, it was my fault, anyway.'

"No-"

'No? I asked you to do it, Kyp. I begged you. Without me, you'd have been fine. I owe you the thanks.'

"You don't owe me anything." His voice was flat.

'I don't?'

"No."

'Wow, you flunked math, didn't you?'

He smiled. "Jaina-"

'You saved me first. And you stuck by me despite how badly I treat you.'

"Goddess's privilege," he returned easily.

'No. And I'm sorry. I've... gotten into the habit of pushing away those closest to me.'

"I've noticed."

'I am sorry.'

"You don't have to apologize to me. You never have to apologize to me."

'Because you'll be here, no matter what.'

Kyp sobered. "Not always."

'You're leaving me?' Panic rose in her.

"When you're better you won't need me anymore. You barely need me now."

'That's not true.' The vehement denial was childlike.

"Don't fool yourself, Jaina." His tone was that of a loving parent to a difficult child. "We both know this is only temporary."

'I need you, Kyp.' Even in her mind, the admission was quiet.

He ran a hand down her back. "I know. Right now, you do. But not always. You'll be Knighted soon, and-"

'You think that's what this is about? Me only being an apprentice?'

"Stop yelling. I still have a headache. Yes. No. I don't know. It's about the Force, isn't it?"

'Some,' she admitted.

"And when you need me, all you have to do is tell me."

'I need you.'

He smiled. "I know."

'Why are you doing this?'

"Doing what?"

'Denying me.'

"I'm not-what are you talking about?"

'Let me in, Kyp. You mean it, so let me in. Let's go both ways. Need me as much as I need you.'

"I do," he said softly.

'Prove it!'

"What do you want me to do?" Frustration seeped into his voice. "Lower my shields? Let you have everything?"

'Yes.'

"No." He was quite firm. "You don't deserve that."

'Try me. Why won't you let me in, Kyp? Why won't you let me be-?'

"Be what?" he asked sharply.

'Be here for you. Like you're here for me.'

And suddenly she was kissing him. She didn't know where the strength or the impulse came from, only knew that his mouth beneath hers was warm and solid. She felt the line of his jaw and the rough stubble beneath her fingers. As she softened into the kiss, his fingers curled at her back and against her neck. His lips parted. He was kissing her back, and some part of her melted.

Then, "No." He tore his mouth away and turned his head. "Jaina, we can't."

'Can't what? Why?'

"Can't what?" he repeated, incredulous. "Can't that, that's what. We can't be more than we already are."

'What are we?'

"Friends."

'You used to want more than that. You used to want me.' She was sulky now, angry at him. For probably being right.

He surprised her. He brushed her hair to the side and lifted the fingers of his other hand. He touched her cheek, her lips, the skin of her exposed throat. "I still do," he murmured.

His touch... She closed her eyes again and shivered, but not from the cold. 'Then why...?

"Things are too complicated already. And what do you think your father would do if..."

'If what?'

"If I let this continue."

'If I could move, I'd slap you.'

Kyp chuckled. "I don't doubt it. But I owe your family so much, Jaina."

'My family.' The anger was gone, replaced with a sadness. 'Of course.'

"Jaina-"

'No. Of course. My family. So sorry for wanting to be an individual. I wish you'd just told me you thought of me as 'Han's daughter' before I kissed you.'

"It's not that. I don't think of you like that-you aren't a child. But if I hurt you... What am I doing to the rest of your family? How is that worthy of everything you've done for me?"

'Problem solved. I've already been hurt as badly as possible, and you even helped with the last round.'

"I know."

'You've done what you've done. Me, too. It's over. We can recover. Together. Just like we've been saying.'

"I don't know." His voice held a sardonic smile. "I've done some damned stupid things."

'Ooh, do you have a club? Can I join?'

Kyp sighed. "Are you feeling any better?" He was trying to change the subject.

'Kiss me again. Then I'll tell you.'

For many long heartbeats, he remained silent and still. His body was tense beneath hers, then he let out a resigned sigh. "Jaina, I hope this isn't a mistake."

'Me, too.'

His mouth found hers and the kiss was surprisingly soft. She got lost in his taste, in his scent, in the feel of him around her. In that moment, it didn't matter if it was a mistake.