As always, I am tinkering in the world of the masterful Elaine Cunningham's Dark Journey, with the sole purpose of bringing the story in from a different angle - mainly Jag's. In doing so, I hope to show what I read between the lines that allowed the Jag in my own creation, Echoes of the Past, to be the man he was. This scene comes straight from pages 202-203. The dialogue and action are the same, only viewed from Jag's point of view, not Jaina's.

Without further ado...


THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

Tap. Tap. Tap

The sound of his knuckles hitting the coral hull was unusual in that it failed to resonate like the metal skins of an inorganic space vessel. Jag was unsure if the sound had even carried inside. That thought gave rise to a sudden desire to turn tail and make for the nearest exit. Jag was not even positive why he had come at all. The appearance of an annoyed looking brunette squashed his impulse flat.

"I came for an apology." Nice start, Fel.

Jaina folded her arms. "Fine, but make it quick. I'm busy."

Any hope that the events of yesterday were nothing more than an anomaly in their growing relationship disappeared with Jaina's response. Jag bristled immediately at the implication. "Actually, I came prepared to listen."

Her eyebrows leapt up. "Then I hope your schedule is wide open, because you're likely to be standing there for a very long time. I didn't do anything wrong."

Yes, you did. You changed from that beautiful lady in red to some kind of demon toying with my heart. "You deliberately tried to provoke an argument."

"Yeah? So?"

As Jag stared at her for a moment, he was caught between the urge to shake Jaina senseless and kiss the smart expression off her lips until she submitted to the unmistakable attraction between them. Replaying every moment of the banquet, there was no doubt in Jag's mind that some sparks had flown; he just wished Jaina would acknowledge them, too.

He shoved a hand through his short black hair. "How did an Alderaanian princess end up with such a daughter?' Jag figured he was leaning toward the shaking her senseless despite his body's barely controlled reaction to her presence.

Jaina's temper flared. "Do you want the short answer, or do you need someone to explain the details to you with charts and diagrams?"

At that particular moment, Jag was sure his body new more about the how's and why's than Jaina could imagine in her wildest dreams. Although Jag could never be sure, something in the way she interacted with men in general suggested she was completely unaware of her sexual prowess. No man had made it deep enough past her shields to tap the potential buried within.

The thought of tapping into that bud of promise caused spots of color to appear high on his cheeks. "That's not what I meant, as I am sure you know."

A myriad of unwanted emotions swelled inside, rearing their ugly heads. Jag usually had better control of such feelings as anger, embarrassment and uncertainty, but they were dancing around, taunting his failing composure. He hated them all, most of all the ambiguity of his intentions. Did he have feelings for Jaina Solo, or had his unflappable pride been so sorely deflated by her dismissal previously that he was looking for restitution?

A strange fog descended on Jag's mind, wiping all notions from his head. For a moment Jag forget what his actual intentions were. He furrowed his brows in concentration and glanced around puzzled by his surroundings.

"Why are you here, Jag?"

Jag faced the sound of the voice, and Jaina's pretty face came into sharp focus. There was no beauty in it, though, just a taunting glare, as if she were laughing at him in a strange, nightmare realm. The façade was surreal, forcing him to dig deep into the core of who he was to find firm ground on which to stand. Several heartbeats later, Jag's brain emerged from the haze, clarity returning like a bright, sunny day. He had come to Jaina searching for an answer, and she was handing it to him on a silver platter. It read – Leave me alone.

There was one faint hope Jag held like a lifeline. He composed himself quickly. "Tenel Ka told me that you will be training with Kyp Durron. Since Kyp flies under my command, may I assume that you will be joining the Vanguard Squadron?"

"Tenel Ka was misinformed. So are you, if you think that Kyp does anything for anyone unless it suits him."

Jag studied her for a long moment. He tried to hold the hope firm, but he could feel it slipping in his grasp. Jaina was a puzzle entirely too complicated for his life. Jag required simplicity and order, rules and regimen. Jaina was none of that. She played by her own rules and no one else's. It became clear in that realization that Kyp, Tenel Ka and Ta'a Chume, even himself, were all simply cards in her sabacc game of life. When it suited her purpose, Jaina would throw one out without a care. All she worried about was the winning hand. The fleeting hope slithered from his grip.

"Assuming you are right, I get the impression that Kyp is not the only one playing some sort of game."

"And winning," she added smugly. Her answer fit perfectly into his theory.

Jag decided to cut his losses and run, not a typical Fel response, but warranted based on the terms of combat. No victorious outcome was plausible. It was time to cut his losses. Jaina would chew him up and spit him out like a field of grutchins, if he continued to engage on her playground. "Since that perception gives you such apparent satisfaction, I hope the rules of engagement can be modified for solitaire."

He executed a deep and extremely formal bow. Goodbye, Jaina Solo. How could I have been so wrong? Was it your beauty that drew me in or some Jedi-mind trick you bewitched me with? I hope I never see you again; you are the proof of my human weakness. He pivoted sharply before strutting off as fast as his legs could manage without giving the appearance of fleeing the scene. Jag had found his question and his answer. Somehow, finding the truth was worse than the bliss of ignorance.