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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 17 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress.

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            As always, reviews are appreciated.

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 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1Sitting alone in her X-wing's cockpit was familiar and comfortable.  Jaina glanced out to her right to see Jag's clawcraft easily pacing her; on her left, Stubborn glided lazily alongside her.

            "Do you two always flank me?" she asked whimsically, unable to keep the smile from her face.

            Jagged's voice was still precise even through the comm.  "Not always," he said, and before Jaina could get a word in edgewise, he and Kyp both accelerated and began to weave back and forth before her.

            She laughed, and before she allowed herself to wonder if she had done this before, before she tried to remember specific motions and maneuvers, allowed herself to get caught up in the simple joy of flying.  She accelerated herself, the frozen orb of Csilla shrinking behind her, and quickly settled into the art of piloting.  Switches were flipped, control stick gripped firmly, a practiced touch to the thrusters, and she juked her way around the two others flying with her.  The three starfighters– so different in appearance– wove their way through black space in an exuberant show of simple delight.  To Jaina, she was a single strand in an intricate braid, dancing and twining and spinning around the other two strands in a pattern unpredictable and uncontrollable.

            It was a simple pleasure, flying.  She understood why she had joined Starfighter Command– flying had always been one of her talents, and she would rather put her talents to use than have them wither away.

            After a few giddy minutes, however, all three seemed to calm, to relax back into normalcy once more.  Jaina shook her head, a smile on her face, when she realized that despite their intricate maneuvers, both men had ended up right back where they had started: on either side of her.

            "Still as good as ever, Goddess," Kyp informed her.

            "Yes," Jagged agreed drily.  "It would have been rather embarrassing if you had managed to run into one of us."

            Jaina fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him– he couldn't see her, after all– and simply smiled.  "I take it we do that often," she said.

            "Often enough.  We're far enough away from the planet to jump now.  Ready?"

            Jaina glanced down, and sure enough, Zero-One had entered the coordinates and was ready for the jump to hyperspace.  She took a breath.  This was the last step.

            "I'm ready."

            "All right, then I'll be seeing you both over Sekot," Jagged said.  "On my mark.  Three, two, one, mark!"

            She reached forward and activated her drive, and watched the stars stream and melt into long silver lines, watched the lines swirl together into a multi-threaded tapestry of light, watched the tapestry spin into a glowing cocoon of color.

            Traveling in an X-wing in hyperspace was possibly the most [i]alone[/i] Jaina had ever been.  Beyond her cockpit, beyond the thin canopy, hyperspace glowed brightly as it streamed past her.  She knew intellectually that both Kyp and Jagged were traveling nearby, their ships flinging them through space just as fast as she was flying, but she saw nothing but the tunnel of light around her.  It was a rather disconcerting sensation; she reached out through the Force and brushed up against Kyp's presence.  He felt near, though not as near as he should have been, and he sent back a warm tingle of love that coaxed a soft smile to her lips.  She sent back a teasing thought, an amused and relieved thanks, and pulled away.

            She contemplated the glorious colors of hyperspace for a moment.  Most Jedi, she knew, put themselves into trances when traveling through hyperspace for extended periods of time.  She'd done it once before– well, she was certain she'd done it more than once before, but she rememebered doing it once, so that was what counted– and knew that if she wished, she could order her thoughts into meditation and spend the rest of the flight breathing deeply, heartbeat slowed and body half shut down.

            Kyp would be entering a trance even now.  Jaina wasn't quite sure how she knew that, but it was one of those niggling annoying bits of memory that really didn't have to do with anything important– the only kind that she seemed to be able to recall.  But Kyp had checked on her through the Force, found her all right, and so he would now be slipping into a relaxed trance.  His breathing would even and slow even as his heart would become sluggish.  His eyelids would drift down over his eyes, and his muscles would relax into sleep.

            Jaina blinked, a bit surprised at how detailed her memory was.  She must have watched him go into trance before, then.  That would make sense.

            Jagged Fel, however, not being a Jedi, would be settling back into his ball of a cockpit, arranging himself as comfortably as possible and taking care not to place his hands near any vital buttons that he might accidentally push or activate with a sudden movement.  Kyp wouldn't have to worry about that; he would be motionless in trance.  Jag would have to entertain himself for the two day flight through hyperspace.  Jaina knew from personal experience just how boring hyperspace travel was normally– hyperspace travel in a starfighter was twice as dull.  She didn't envy Jag his uneventful two days.

            And yet she made no move to follow Kyp into a Jedi trance.

            She stared out at the twisting strands of hyperspace. 

            There was too much to think about, too many memories to try and gather close about her, for her to spend two days in hibernation.

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            The alarm drew her from her thoughts.  With a shaky breath, Jaina reached out and switched it off.  She swallowed, then sent a command for Zero-One to reactivate as she began to prepare to return to realspace.  The tears in her eyes blurred the console before her, so she had to take a minute to wipe them away before she could proceed. 

            Nothing.  Two whole days, and nothing.  Her hands moved mechanically across the controls as she fought to control her emotions.  It had been nearly two whole days of searching her mind, and she hadn't remembered anything.  She had barely slept, only occasionally roused herself to stretch– she had focused every bit of her being on trying to find those memories locked so deeply inside her.

            And had come up with nothing.

            She fought the despair, but it was so hard for her to push through it.  She couldn't seem to stop crying– the alarm had told her that her time was up, and her memories were no nearer than they had been.

            She wanted to curl up into a little ball and ignore the call to return to realspace, to simply let the destination flash by her as a little streak of starlight, and huddle in her cockpit until, somewhere halfway past the galaxy, she remembered.  She wanted to sit and cry until she had no tears left.  She wanted to rage and fight and destroy something, show some proof that she could still make something happen the way she wanted.  She wanted to shout and whimper and disappear and prove that she was still alive.

            She wanted to go to her father and have him hug her and tell her that she was her daddy's girl and everything would be all right.  She wanted her mother to look at her with that confident, proud smile she treasured, the one that let Jaina know she was someone worth being proud of.  She wanted her brothers– both of them– to be grinning down at her with that ridiculous joy of being taller than her, glad to see her and tease her and be with her.  She wanted her uncle to give her that slow, easy smile that meant he was glad she'd succeeded.  She wanted her aunt to appraise her with cool green eyes, only to have the eyes lighten and approval grace her features.  She wanted her family to be there, reminding her that they, at least, were pleased she was there.  She wanted them to still approve of her, still enjoy being with her.

            She wanted Kyp to hold her tight and tell her he wasn't going anywhere. 

            Her breathing hitched and came out on a sob, and Jaina forced herself to stop shaking, forced herself to take a steady breath, then another.  She began the breathing exercises her uncle had taught to her so many years ago that they had become habit.  Never before had they seemed so hard; never before had it seemed so impossible to regulate the simple reality of inhale, exhale.

            The despair lessened imperceptibly as she brought herself under control.  Another breath, and she was able to wipe the last traces of tears from her eyes.  Four more breaths, and she ordered her mind and calmed her thoughts, so that Kyp wouldn't be able to reach out and simply feel her mood.

            Five thoughts later, and Jaina ended her breathing exercise on a long sigh, and reached out and dropped herself back into subspace.

            Kyp and Jagged once again flew protectively at her sides, as the swirling stars separated into individual threads and froze into pinpricks of light against the darkness of space.  Before her hung a jewel-like planet, green and blue and white, lush and gorgeous and approaching quickly.  Zonama Sekot.  Around it hovered a small fleet of ships Jaina didn't recognize, but her board quickly identified them as coralskippers, worldships, and half a dozen other names that made some part of her associate with adrenaline and reflexes and smoke and fear.

            "Nice to see you two again," Jag drawled out.  "While you two have been meditating on the nature of the universe, I've been bored out of my mind."

            Jaina smiled weakly at that.  "Hey, the universe is complicated," she managed, hoping her voice was light enough and the comm channel weak enough that her tears weren't as obviously audible.

            But no, the Force had other plans.

            "Jaina, are you all right?"

            She winced.  "I'm fine, Kyp.  A little disoriented, is all."

            "If you say so," he said dubiously after a minute.  She felt him reach out for her, and nimbly shoved all traces of tears and depression far from her mind as she let his Force-presence caress up against hers.

            Then, as a harsh voice in heavily accented Basic welcomed them and began issuing simple instructions for landing, she felt his presence change from gentle reassurance to tense query.

            Jaina?  What happened?

            She swallowed, and even as the three of them began their approach toward the planet's atmosphere, sent back weakly, Nothing.  Don't worry.

            Too late.  I'm worrying.  What happened?

            She took a deep breath.  She didn't want to be weak, didn't want to reveal how much her lack of memories hurt her. Just a little overwhelmed, she managed. Don't worry.

            Jag said something and she replied, but even to herself her voice sounded hollow and lacking.  She concentrated on pulling herself together, on making herself strong and complete once more, on pushing everything she lacked, all the memories she desperately missed, to the very edges of her consciousness.

            They landed in silence, both men probably realizing that she was in no state for banter.  The landing field was simply that, a field– greenish-blue grass and small brush.  There were five figures standing on one edges of it; Jaina only allowed herself a quick glance in their direction.  Two blonde human women and three Vong, but she didn't gather more details than that.  As she pressed up on her canopy and heard it hiss and depressurize, the five began to move toward the three landed craft.

            Jaina wasn't allowed to dwell on them any longer, for her canopy was open.  She climbed out of her seat, felt her muscles protest as they were forced to move, and dropped to the ground of Sekot with none of her usual grace.  As she recovered, she swayed for a moment, dizzy from too much motion after too long a period of stillness.  Black crept into her sight, and as the tunnel vision cleared, she made out Kyp Durron striding toward her, face set and grim.

            "You really don't remember much, do you?" he growled out, not bothering to stop as he neared her.  He reached her and pulled her into a tight embrace, one she was only too glad to return.  "Any time you tell me not to worry, I worry."

            "I'm sorry," she said, sternly telling herself that she wasn't going to cry again.  Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and tightened them, pressing herself against him.  His hands were gentle on her back, his arms strong and shielding around her.

            Jaina shut her eyes and let him hold her, hoping that somehow his strength would flow into her.

            And it helped.

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Thanks!

-Keth

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