Jaina Solo was late – as she often was – but the general consensus of the day seemed to be that she be left alone. Garik Klamath decided that was probably best for now. It might make her feel more secure and easier to deal with should a certain Twi'lek push too far, too fast.

Alright, so it wasn't kriffing likely but a guy could hope, right?

If Jaina noticed that she should have been reprimanded, she didn't show it. Instead, she listened only vaguely to the others speak, speaking rarely and only when spoken to. The only time she truly seemed to pay attention was when General Antilles brought up psychological warfare.

Garik had the sneaking suspicion that her silence was as deadly as a ticking bomb.

When there was a lull in the conversation and he saw Oosan Saraf sneak one too many peeks at the Jedi Knight who looked ready to fall asleep. Not good. He groaned inwardly and shot the Twi'lek a concealed but nasty look. If he caught it, Oosan ignored it.

"As we all know," the former aide began, "since the Eclipse Massacre, the Free Alliance has fought bravely. However, while many were – and still are – blind to this, it is clear that we cannot win this war without the Jedi. The Vong know this and eventually the Free Alliance will as well."

Garik sighed and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. Might as well settle in for the long haul. Councilor Cal Omas' former aide was nothing if not long-winded.

Indeed, the Twi'lek's annoying, greasy voice continued to go on. "The 'Vong, since the beginning of the war, have placed the Jedi premium in their minds, vowing to destroy them. Four months ago, it seemed as if they succeeded. As we all know, they didn't; but more importantly they believe they succeeded – which gives us an advantage."

Oosan cast a pleading look toward Jaina. "Miss Solo – "

"This is an Insiders' conference, Oosan," Jaina spat, her eyes narrowing, "not a meeting of the Senate. There are no titles here; no politics. Don't tell me you're planning on changing that now, after all your hard work?"

The former aide ignored Jaina's sharp reference and Garik shook his head. Oosan was really backing himself into a corner now. The politically-minded Twi'lek had been informed of the Insiders after months of discussion about his trustworthiness. If he kept pushing politics into meetings like this…well, they already had the Senate, now didn't they? You just had to pick a fight, didn't you, Oosan? Garik thought derisively. This isn't going to help your fight, you fool.

"Miss Solo," Oosan continued, ignoring Jaina and clearly not picking up on Garik's disgust or mental lecture. Well, well, well…yet another flaw in his design; when will the shocking revelations stop? "You are a capable Jedi Knight, correct?"

Jaina shifted slightly and Garik noticed for the first time that her Goddess uniform was soaking – again. What does the girl do – sleep in the forest during rain storms? "A Jedi Knight?" she repeated. "Yes; for nearly two years now. Whether I am capable or not, you'll have to decide for yourself."

Good job, Solo. Very nice deflexion. The part of your DNA that your mother passed on is showing.

/Would you stop running a running mental commentary on this whole Sithspawn – political – debate?!/ Garik nearly fell out of his chair in his shock upon hearing the voice in his head.

Stupid Jedi, always shoving their noses into other people's minds.

/Only when you silly non-Jedi insist on broadcasting at "Bantha mating call" volume. Now shut up; I have to deal with a certain grease-ball./

/Try not to make any stupid vows./

He got the distinct mental image of the former Chief of State's daughter sticking her tongue out of him and he covered his chuckle with a cough. Kriffing Sith, he hadn't had this much fun since…well, since when? Before the war, definitely. Maybe the last time he and Jaina had been dragged to the same political dinner?

He had to fight to keep the grin off his face. Ah…yes. A specific political dinner did come to mind at that. One that included, boring speeches, dejarik under the band stage, a food fight and teasing started at the sight of a pink "girly" dress…

But that was a long time ago. Before…before the "tragedy," as my mother put it. Before –

"But you are able to train apprentices?" Oosa said suddenly, breaking into Garik's memories.

Jaina's annoyance was clear. "No one trains more than one inexperienced apprentice at a time."

"I seem to recall your uncle, Master Skywalker, doing just that."

"I'm not my uncle."

"How long is an apprentice trained for?" Oosa asked, trying a different approach.

"It depends on the being," she replied carefully, "and, of course, on the will of the Force."

"In general, how long?"

"The Old Republic Jedi trained from not long after their birth to between the age of twenty and thirty. According to the – program – that Master Skywalker set up, Jedi were trained at the Jedi Academy until they knew the basics – it usually took about two to three years – and then paired with a master."

"Do you plan on taking an apprentice soon?"

Garik sighed. Oosan just had to ask, didn't he? He had to press.

Jaina's temper mounted and Garik vaguely tightened his grip on the table. It wouldn't be much if she started a vortex in the Force, but he'd be one of the last to go flying around, at least. There wasn't much else he could do.

"What is this, a galaxy court of law?" she demanded harshly. "Whether I take an apprentice or not is my own business. It's not your place to ask that kind of thing!"

Foolishly, Oosan spoke again. Probably trying to soothe her. The idiot. "The Free Alliance – "

"Did not and does not care for Jedi." Jaina stood, a storm in her eyes. One of Garik's feet instinctively hooked under the cross under-bar of his chair for anchorage. "After the New Republic was stable and Master Skywalker requested that he be able to start a Jedi Academy, the Senate was reluctant, but they let him start it. They said they didn't want Dark Jedi or, worse yet, Sith, becoming a problem again. But when the 'Vong came and the Jedi didn't become the basic equivalent of Sith and massacre the invaders within three seconds, the Jedi became the reason behind the war."

"Would you like a galactic apology?" a Bothan demanded sarcastically.

"Of course not! All I'm saying is that Jedi business is just that – Jedi business!"

Garik nearly chuckled. Senator Solo, your mother is showing through.

/What did I tell you about your running commentary?!/

"All I will say," she continued, as if her mental exchange with Garik had not even occurred, "is that should I take an apprentice, no doubt you will find out but not from me.

"Care to explain that, Colonel Solo?" the Ishi Tib next to Oosan asked.

Jaina's eyes flashed. "I – and the Jedi – serve the Free Alliance and I refuse to pretend otherwise! I am not my mother and as such do not have any skills in politics; nor do I have much of my uncle's tact."

That's the kriffing truth, at least. You don't have tact and you never will. You just open your big mouth and say whatever comes to mind, kriff the consequences. He projected the thought as best he could, hoping she'd catch it.

/Shut up Garik!/

Jaina's gaze levelled on Oosan. "When you next convene with the Senate, feel free to tell that I will never darken their door on Jedi business – ever. Nor will I ever ask 'permission'. I am a Jedi Knight – I will do what is right for the Jedi and the Free Alliance but never for the politicians."

Garik bit down on a curse the moment the words slipped past her lips. She was brave – there was no doubt in his mind about that – and he would back her in any way possible, but her timing was atrocious. She might have her mother's looks but she is definitely her father's daughter, he decided dryly. She'd make quite the smuggler with her instinct to shoot while the other is still blowing air around.

But perhaps he could still do some damage control – after all, the senate hadn't heard of her promise yet. If he hurried, he might even be able to get to Mon Cal before Oosan. You just had to open your mouth, didn't you Solo? He felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Ah, but stangitall, Solo certainly knew how to liven up a boring Insiders' meeting.

"Well," he said quickly before Oosan could cause any more damage and before Jaina could start a vortex. "Are there any other topics that need to be discussed?" Say "no", say "no", you all know you want to say "no"…c'mon. For a moment he thought he saw Jaina open his mouth but he when he shot her a look she sat back in her chair, pouting slightly. "No one? All right then, I think it's safe to say we can all leave now and go back to our regular schedules?" He looked to General Antilles for confirmation.

The other man nodded once. "Class dismissed, kids; next week we'll be studying how to avoid bickering in a war." When beings began to stand and move toward the door, the general added, "Oosan, might I have a word?"

Tear a strip off him for me Wedge, Garik thought as he pulled his bag over his shoulder. Heck, tear one off for Jaina too, while you're at it.

"I can take care of myself."

He turned and smiled at the woman in front of him. "My dear Solo; what did I tell you about reading my mind?"

Her returning smile was flat and did not reach her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting with the Insiders, of course."

She rolled her eyes in disgust. "Don't give me that. I don't need 'legal representation' – if I did, I'd get a lawyer and it wouldn't be you, even though you're as bad as one."

"I'll take that as a compliment – my mother's a lawyer."

She nodded once and fell in step with him, hooking her arm in his. "How is your mother?"

"She's planning her Mon Cal wedding. Did you know saying your vows on the beach – during the beginnings of a storm – is considered romantic?"

"Is she getting married to Fra'rant?"

"Nah; Trasint Herth."

She blinked and gave him an odd look. "Trasint Herth? I don't know him – what's he like?"

He shrugged easily and led her to a discreet corner of the large conference room, keeping an eye on Oosan. "No idea; I'll be meeting him for the first time at the wedding – if I manage to get time off."

"You're not in the military Garik; you won't have a problem with getting time. How's your dad?"

"He's dead."

She stopped abruptly, blinking up at him, her eyes guarded carefully. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too." His voice was soft, his grip around her waist tightening for a moment. Abruptly he shook his head out of la-la land and back to Jaina and the present. He had had quite enough of small talk. His blue-grey eyes locked on hers. "Are you trying to commit political suicide?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play innocent. What was with that vow? You trying to sink yourself?"

Her eyes blinked away from his. "I told the truth. I'm not going to serve politicians."

"And so you decide to walk the edge of treason. Of course."

"It's not treason," she insisted. "I said I wouldn't darken their doorway."

"So who…oh, me." He sighed and shook his head.

"You can if you want to. Personally, I'd rather just wash my hands of politics but if you'd like to offer your services…"

He stared at her, standing there, shadowed pain shadowing her eyes. She knew he would do it – of course she did; he'd promised to watch her back. He wondered if she really believed him when he said that; she was certainly holding enough back. He pushed a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her cheek quickly. "Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

Her expression was innocent. "Me? Get into trouble? Really, Garik, we Solos are the most reserved – "

"Rebellious, stubborn, impulsive people in the galaxy. I know. Be good Solo, I don't want to have to spend my life inside the Senate hall."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get going – Wedge's almost done with Oosan."

His eyes flickered over to the Twi'lek, then back to Jaina. "M'lady." He bowed once, then turned on his heel, his mind already sinking into the strategic defence of Jaina's decisions.

~*~*~

After watching Garik stride out the door, Jaina wandered over to Wedge and Oosan. Wedge, seeing her, said something that caused the Twi'lek to scuttle away. When he passed her, Jaina glared at Oosan. Kriffing Sith, she thought at him. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you asked), Oosan was in no way bonded to her and so did not catch her contempt. She shrugged it off. She had broken her ties with politicians today – let Garik try to prove his trustworthiness by taking care of the worm.

"Jaina, I have to speak with Tycho for a while longer," Wedge said, breaking into her thoughts. "When you go back to our quarters tell Iella to go on with supper without me."

She neutralised a flinch at the normal request, nodding curtly instead before turning away, dismissal stinging her ego. Really, though, what had she expected? Had she really thought Wedge would see that if he wanted her to be another Luke Skywalker and bring the Jedi, peace and prosperity back to the galaxy, he would have to treat her that way?

No. He did not seem to grasp it. Apparently he was content to tell her to do what her uncle had done years ago and still treat her as a child. As such she was constantly being pulled in two different directions. It would have been so much better for the galaxy if it was Jacen that lived instead of me! she decided pessimistically. At least, as a former captive of the 'Vong and a "man mature beyond his years" people would listen to him.

Trudging down the stairs to enter the main part of the base, she avoided meeting the gazes of others, avoided hearing the whispers. She looked a sight, she knew, with her Goddess uniform plastered to her skin, her hair soaking from the rain and her face pasty white. Ever since what the galaxy had begun to call the "Eclipse Massacre" she had looked like a wraith and she knew it.

Princess Leia would be horrified.

It was only when she stepped into the Antilles' quarters that she realised with quiet amazement that the thought was not bitter. Instead, it was slightly with nostalgia and slight amusement that she recalled her mother. If Jaina was mocking anyone, it was herself. It was as if only her mother's death was able to fix their broken, resentment-filled relationship.

To her right, she could hear someone humming softly and she entered the kitchen. Her gaze was drawn first to Iella who was at the oven, stirring a sauce. For a moment, it seemed as if Iella shrank and her hair blurred brown. Jaina blinked the illusion away quickly, her gaze sweeping the room.

A table set for three stood in the middle of the room, two chairs and a stool placed about it. The kitchen was small, but bigger than Jaina's in her own quarters, and in order. It reminded her of the Solo kitchen from before the war. Everything neatly labelled, everything where it should be. She found it depressingly ironic to see this kitchen in the midst of such a chaotic war but then, the Force had never been a good comedian.

"Ah, there you are!" Iella had turned around without Jaina noticing and the Jedi jumped slightly. "Dinner's ready whenever you and Wedge are."

Jaina stared at her hold-mother for a moment before her mouth muscles could move. "Wedge…Wedge had to speak with Tycho. He says not to keep supper waiting."

There was silence for a beat and then Iella smiled. Jaina didn't know why Iella bothered – as a Jedi she could see – feel – Iella's disappointment nearly as well as if it had been her own. "Well, come and sit down. We'll have to do without Wedge for a bit. How was your – "

Jaina interrupted her before the sympathies and false, motherly concerns could pass the Intelligence head's lips. "I'm not very hungry."

Iella blinked, though no doubt she wasn't surprised. "Oh. Are you sick? Would you like me to get you some medicine?"

You're not my mother, Iella. Please don't try to be. "Actually, I'm tired and I have some reports to fill out. Maybe some other time." She turned away from the Iella's upset, tired expression and exited the kitchen.

When she stepped into her room she felt the tears build behind her eyes, pricking them. These tears did not threaten to signal her breaking in a flood, but in the soft misery and sudden need for someone – anyone – to reach out to her.

Iella just tried to reach out, a small voice reminded her.

Her eyes closed for a moment. It wasn't the same. Sure, Wedge tried but he seemed to see her as the sole remaining Jedi before a child. And she was beginning to feel just like that – a lost child. Wedge couldn't see that. Instead, she was something that needed to be protected for a while so that in the near future she could save the galaxy, even if it meant her death. Vaguely, she wondered if dying for the galaxy when you wanted to die was still a sacrifice.

Shaking her head, she pulled her plain white night-gown out of her drawers. She changed quickly and rebraided her hair, moving her mind to Wedge and Oosan's idea of taking an apprentice. It was absurd, of course. Even if it was safe, she was Knighted just two years ago. There was still so much she didn't know. Along with all the Jedi, the Eclipse, the Academy, a great deal of Jedi knowledge was also gone. It had taken her uncle a quarter of a century to discover everything he knew…which was most likely insignificant compared to what the Jedi of the Old Republic knew. It would take Jaina most of her life to rise to the level of a Jedi Master.

And yet, still part of her argued against her refusal…after all, she had been trained all her life; she was not a stranger to the Force. Also, a Jedi Master was mostly a Jedi Knight with years of practice and an apprentice that had been Knighted. It would be difficult, yes, but impossible?

She sank to her bed. No, it would not be impossible…or would it? Her temper and stubborn nature were sure to make her a bad mentor, right?

But I am a Jedi Knight, part of her argued. I can learn to control my temper and stubbornness. Aunt Mara did.

But she had Uncle Luke, Jaina argued. I have…no one.

Not true, Solo. You have memories. You have –

No. He's gone. Her head dropped into her hands, unwanted memories flooding her mind. Pain…so much pain as their bond snapped like a dry twig… "He's gone." With that spoken admission, her small frame began to wrack with dry sobs.

And still no tears fell from the growing harbour of liquid crystals behind the eyes of the Sword of the Jedi.

She was beyond tears now; no mere apprentice could save her from that.

****

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly;
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see;
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird,
Fly,
Blackbird,
Fly,
Into the light of a dark, black night.

Blackbird,
Fly,
Blackbird,
Fly,
Into the light of a dark, black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly;
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

~Blackbird, words and music by John Lennon and Paul McCartney

* * *

Iella peeked into Jaina's room several hours later to see the young woman sprawled across her bed, a blanket draped over her, dark hair a sharp contrast to the white bedspread. The Intelligence head smiled, shaking her head wryly, and moved to the bed. For a moment, she only watched the Jedi, took in the almost determinedly blank expression on her face, her fist clutching the blanket tightly, as if for security. Her features were soft and child-like, dispelling the hardened exterior that helped her cast away political ties and survive.

Shaking her head again, Iella retrieved a heavier blanket from the closet and placed it over Jaina, covering her. Sighing, she brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen across the Jedi's face and straightened.

Jaina tossed suddenly, as if struggling against an iron hold, and Iella paused. When Jaina relaxed again, Iella turned slowly and left, closing the door behind her as she went. Sweet dreams, Jaina; I pray you find the peace you need…

* * *

She watched her life; saw it float around her, memories causing her head to spin. She saw what she had lived through – the Empire, Black Sun, the Vong, and more – and, for the first time, appreciated them. She saw how the kidnappings of her youth had built her determination.

She saw how her famous family had given her a sense of responsibility.

Being a Jedi had taught her honour.

Her suffering had given her empathy; the danger that lurked behind every corner taught her to use caution to temper her rebellious spirit.

Being a squadron leader quickened her mind, taught her efficiency and trained her in accepting the consequences to her actions.

Being a goddess gave her confidence.

The politics her mother had brought into her life taught her to be weary of deception and on the lookout for ulterior motives.

She saw how her life had never been settled – teaching her to adapt.

Do you understand, Sword of the Jedi? a voice asked.

She saw her life; she saw everything how everything she had done – everything that had been done to her – had made her who she was.

Do you see? The voice was becoming more insistent now, more urgent. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!

// " 'Sword of the Jedi, huh?"

"It's not a big deal." Her eyes refused to meet his.

"Sounds like a big deal to me – you know, the whole 'you-have-a-capitalized-name-for-your-destiny' kind of deal."

"I'm no one special; it's just one big misunderstanding."

"That's what you say, Goddess…"//

Yes, she thought. Yes; finally, I understand – I think.

Good…

* * *

Jaina awoke with a start, panting lightly. Her head dropped into her hands, disbelief coursing through her. As the foggy remnants of sleep vanished she found her confusion. Why had she been sleeping in the middle of the afternoon? There were still reports to be filled out, new recruits to be broken in…and what had she dreamed? It pricked at the edge of conscience thought, begging to be realized, but floated just out of her reach…

Her fists pounded against her bed in frustration and lightly bounced against the springs. Sighing, she climbed out of bed and went toward her closet to get a towel. Perhaps a hot shower would help clear her mind, she thought, not really believing it.

She was half way to the 'fresher when she felt the Force tremble dangerously in warning…

* * *

On the other side of the base

Tiran locked his bedroom door behind him, and then pulled his shoes and shirt off. He sank into his bed on his back, his dark blue eyes closed tightly, as if he was trying to wish the day away. He stayed that way for several moments before sitting up. Get it together, Lee-droy. There's stuff to do. No time to feel sorry for yourself.

He dragged his body off the bed and sat down at his desk, glaring wrathfully at the paperwork that stared up at him. He filled out the reports reluctantly, his distaste and boredom making him sloppy – not that it mattered. The forms were only a formality; the head mechanic would give a complete analysis of the condition of the Free Alliance ships.

Upon finishing, his mind began to slide into dangerous territory. Shoving the depressing memories aside, his gaze swept his room in search of distraction. Instead, he found his regard caught by the holo of a small, dark-haired girl. His stomach turned over once. Calair…

From a distance he heard glass shatter and an increasingly strong wind whip at his clothes and air but he paid it no mind. Withering plants crumbling in his hands…the smell of burning hair. The sound of bones snapping like twigs…silent screams of agony from the dead and dying…

He clutched his throbbing head, anger and hatred at his incompetence to save them mounting whilst only one thought remained clear and definite:

I must not give into this…






~TJF