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            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

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            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

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            Details:

            Name: Miracle

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Summary: A crash landing leaves Jaina lucky to be alive, but she can't remember the last ten years of her life.  What will this mean for her and the man she was to marry?

            Rating: PG to PG-13.

            Post: Chapter 9 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

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            As always, reviews are appreciated.

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She stood alone in the hanger bay, watching as the strange ship– a clawcraft, her father had told her, that's what the Chiss fighters were called– landed.  She was nervous.  This was the first time she'd meet a person from those ten years that she hadn't actually known before.  Jagged Fel was a complete stranger to her, and yet he was intrinsically woven through her life.

            Not for the first time, Jaina swore to herself and wished none of this had happened.  Life would be much simpler.

            The access hatch opened, and the pilot pulled himself up out of the ball-shaped cockpit.  He balanced easily on the top of his craft, unfastened his helmet and tossed it down into the ship.  Jagged Fel– it could be no one else– jumped down to the hanger bay and started toward her.

            Jaina forced her legs to move and walked toward him, soaking up first impressions.  About as tall as Kyp, with the same lean build and compact muscles of a pilot.  Dark hair with a streak of white running through it; as he got closer, she could make out the scar that caused it and the warm green eyes.  He wore an Imperial-style flight suit, and looked undeniably crisp.

            But the physical she had seen already in holos.  Handsome, definitely, and Jaina admitted without amusement that she seemed to fall for dark-haired pilots with green eyes.  Zekk, Kyp, Jagged...  She wondered vaguely if there were more similarities between the three than simply met the eye, and stored that thought away for later.  Instead, she focused on her emotions. 

            A vague sense of friendship, and a tug of attraction– those were easily obvious.  But beneath them was a sense of solid strength: loyalty, honor, courage. 

            Part of her relaxed.  She was safe with him.

            They stopped in the middle of the hanger bay, standing about a foot apart.  Jag smiled then, and held out a hand.  "Jagged Fel," he said.  "But I suppose since you're here, you know that much."

            She smiled, threw caution to the wind, and ignored his hand to step forward and hug him.  "I know a bit," she agreed, stepping back.  "Kyp said you'd agreed to come out and talk with me."

            "Sure."  Jag hesitated.  "Do you remember the botanicals about a kilometer from here?"

            Jaina shook her head. 

            "It's a quiet public garden," he informed her.  "We usually go there to talk."  He offered her his arm as though they were in a formal court.  "Shall we?"

            She accepted it.  "How were you able to get here so fast?" she asked as they moved through the hanger.

            Jagged smiled.  "I was barely out of the system," he said.  "I was already planning on being here for your wedding, and since my uncle lives here as well, I thought I'd visit him and spend some time with my cousins beforehand.  Then Kyp notified me of your injuries, and I knew you'd want to talk with me."  He gave her a sidelong glance as they entered the hallway.  "And yes, I know I'm not officially supposed to know about them."

            "Good."  Jaina didn't want her memory loss to become public; not ever, if she could help it.  "My mother said you're a diplomat now."

            He groaned.  "Unfortunately, I was talked into becoming the liaison for the Chiss to the Alliance.  I got a little too good at it– they're not letting me retire."

            She snickered.  "That's the danger of entering politics."

            He slid his arm from hers to gently knock his fist against her shoulder.  "Watch it, Great One.  I've got diplomatic immunity."

            Yes, she believed she had been friends with this man.  His arm settled comfortably around her shoulders and she questioned him on safe topics as they made their way into the street and toward the botanical garden.  His family was doing well, and his uncle had invited her to dinner with them that night.  Yes, he was still a Colonel; no, he hadn't been home to Csilla for a few years.  It was polite conversation and somewhat stilted, and as Jag held the door open for her, Jaina asked him, "Are you always this formal?"

            To her surprise, he laughed.  "This is a lot better than I was," he informed her, pulling her down the path towards a secluded bench surrounded by greenery and a riot of brightly colored flowers.  "When you first met me, you said I was grim."

            "Grim."  Jaina considered this, and nodded.  "Yeah, I could see you as grim."

            His smile was easy, open.  "I was the quintessential Imperial pilot– Chiss pilot, at that– when you met me.  Unwilling to show emotion, only concerned with fulfilling the mission.  Then I got entangled with a bunch of Rebel Jedi pilots, and look at me now."  Then his smile faded and he gestured at the bench.  Jaina sat and looked up at him.  His eyes were concerned.  "Jaina, I just want you to know that I'm still your friend.  I'll be your friend no matter what."

            Jaina reached for the chain at her throat and pulled the small gold pendent.  "You gave me this when we broke up," she said.

            His smile returned, and he tugged an identical pendent out from under the collar of his flightsuit.  "We got them made together," he said.  "We wanted something to remind ourselves."

            "Of what?"

            He was nervous, she decided, as he clasped his hands before him.  "That regardless of everything else that had happened, we were still friends."  He let out his breath in a huff.  "Kyp said you had some questions."

            It was as clear an opening as she could ask for.  She shut her eyes briefly, then opened them.  "When did we start going together?"  It was the most basic question she could think of.

            Jag relaxed slightly.  "A little after Twin Suns was officially handed over to you."

            "And when did we break up?"

            The slight tension returned; he stiffened slightly.  "About two years after the war ended... three years ago or so."

            She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to ask him, but her compelling need to know the answer drove her.  "And we were lovers?"

            The tension tightened; he obviously wasn't looking forward to this.  "Precisely once.  It was why we decided we were better just friends."

            She stared at him, shocked.  "Why?" she managed at last.

            He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her.  "You called me Kyp," he said at last.

            "I– oh."  Color flooded her cheeks, but before she could say anything more, Jag continued speaking.

            "And I called you Tahiri."

            "Oh." She inhaled sharply, and looked down at her feet.  "I see," she said, and her voice sounded tinny.

            "Not our finest hour," Jag said stiffly.

            "No," she agreed instantly.  "Definitely not." 

            They remained where they were, Jaina sitting and Jag standing beside her, embarrassment painfully acute in the air around them, eyes looking anywhere but at each other.

            I called him Kyp.  Sithspawn, I'm glad I can't remember this. Jaina closed her eyes and fervently hoped her blush was receding. Well, that explains why I never told Kyp why we broke up.  I'm not sure I want to know myself.  Sithspawn, I called him Kyp. She glanced up at him, found him just as red as she was, and quickly looked down at her feet once more. Emperor's black bones.  He doesn't look that much like Kyp...

            A new thought struck her, and impossibly, she giggled.  Jag's head turned and he looked curiously at her.  Jaina tried to stop herself, and couldn't contain her laughter anymore.  "You called me Tahiri?" she finally managed.  "Jag, you at least look roughly like Kyp.  Do I look anything like Tahiri?"  She immediately covered her face with her hands to hide her wide grin.  "I'm sorry; I know it's not funny, but sweet stars, Jag, honestly!"

            To her amazement, he stared at her and then laughed with her.  "No," he told her when they had calmed, "it wasn't funny then, but it's absolutely hilarious now."

            Weak from laughing so hard, Jaina rested her head on his shoulder.  "At least now I understand why no one else really knows why we split up."

            "That's why we made these," Jag said, briefly touching hers.  "To remind ourselves that we'd never tell anyone else what complete fools we'd been."

            Jaina winced.  "I can't believe I called you Kyp.  I'm sorry, Jag.  That had to have been terrible."

            His mouth twitched.  "Oh, I was feeling rather embarrassed, but mostly because I had been just as callous and called you Tahiri.  We had a long talk that night."

            "I believe it," she said.  She shut her eyes.  "And then we went out and made these, and just sort of split apart?"

            "Basically."  Jag's arm relaxed around her.  "And people still wonder why."

            "Kyp's jealous," Jaina said without thinking.

            "Kyp's lucky," Jag countered.  "And he doesn't need to be.  You should have told him that much, at least."

            "Why didn't I?"

            "Jaina!"  He sounded exasperated.  "How should I know?"

            "Well," she said, sitting back up straighter and looking at him.  "I guess our, um, finest hour changed something, because Kyp and I wound up together a few months later.  How'd that happen?"

            "Oh," Jag said, and his expression cleared.  "I basically talked you into that."

            "Explain," Jaina demanded pertly, and crossed her arms.

            He grinned and reached out to tweak her nose.  "Same Jaina," he said.  "Demanding all us mere mortals follow her every wish.  Calm down, I'm explaining."  He took a breath and let it out before he continued.  "I managed to get it through your thick skull– which you inherited from your father, by the way– that Durron would have to be an idiot not to love you.  So you, being your usual tricky self, managed to wring a confession of attraction from our rogue Jedi, and things went from there."

            "'A confession of attraction'?" Jaina repeated incredulously.  "Never mind; I'll ask Kyp.  He at least speaks standard Basic."  But she was smiling as she returned her head to his shoulder.  "So what happened with you and Tahiri?"

            She could feel him tense.  "Nothing," he said curtly.  "She's been away."

            Her smile spread.  "When I saw you today, I thought that one word I wouldn't be able to apply to you was 'coward'," she said.  "You haven't talked to her beyond basic 'hello, how are you?', have you?"

            She could feel his glare through the top of her head.  "You're not supposed to remember anything," he complained.

            "That's not remembering, that's obvious," Jaina informed him.  "Do I have to nag you into seducing her or what?"

            Jag chuckled.  "I'm glad you're the same person inside, Jaina.  Still friends?"

            "Still friends," Jaina agreed.  One mystery had been complete cleared away, and the answer to it was shedding light on others.  She had a lot to think about– but for the first time, she felt like she actually had answers now.  "Always."