Jedi from Rohan: Wow, I'm glad you liked it! I'm blushing, really I am. Which part confused you? Let me know – I'm getting used to explaining this fic ;) What's MTFBWY?

Alright, for everyone who reads this (JfR and anyone who isn't reviewing) – aren't you lucky! I'm uploading two posts this time *gasp* That's what you all get for being so far behind ;P

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Jaina settled back into the pillows, a sigh escaping her as the medic left. Soft light filtered through the window to her left and a warm breeze delicately felt its way into the room. Off in the distance she could hear a bird singing a distinct, strong melody. For a moment, she closed her eyes and let the peace of the moment seep into her, hoping against hope that it would remove the images of her dream that taunted her.

The bird's song echoed and called to something in her and she gave up; Kyp's eyes and the sensation of his lips on hers would not be leaving her soon. Instead, she pushed herself into a sitting position, swung her legs to the floor, and gingerly got to her feet. She had to call on the Force to remain standing, as the muscles in her legs seemed to have disappeared, but she found her way to the window without falling.

The window was only half open, so she leaned against a nearby table and pushed the window until it was pressed against the outside wall. Bracing her arms against the wall for support, she looked out. A large bird with feathers of fiery shades of reds, oranges, and golds stared back at her, black eyes gleaming. Jaina gave a surprised yelp and stumbled backwards in an instinctive reaction to get away from the creature that had been only centimetres from her face.

With a sound that was half coo, half chuckle, the bird soared through the window and floated to the ground, wings half-spread. Jaina stilled as the bird's melody recommenced. The song captivated – part mournful, part joyful, all surprising resilience and strength, and the Jedi barely noticed as the bird moved to her side. When four fire-ice tears dropped on her eyes, Jaina blinked, shaking herself out of her reverie. "Wha…?"

"I said, 'What are you doing on the floor?' " a man's voice said, seemingly bewildered.

The bird was gone; had she dreamed it? Slowly, she turned to the owner of the voice. The first – and perhaps only – thing she noticed was his eyes: large, navy blue orbs that pulled at her memory. Black, thick eyebrows hovered over those familiar eyes in a mixture of concern, annoyance, and curiosity.

Realizing with a jolt who he was, she forced a smile. "I was, uh, meditating," she replied quickly, wondering if perhaps it was true.

He hesitated a brief moment, then walked to where she was sitting haphazardly and gave her a hand up. Those blue eyes regarded her cautiously and his body was tense, as if he was ready to dart away at any moment. "The bed would be more comfortable," he stated, his gaze moving up and down her rumpled med-bay-issued pyjamas; sizing her up or admiring her, she wasn't sure. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

"The praxeum's meditation room floor was made of clay," she explained, pitching her voice low so he wouldn't pick up on the way her voice trembled. "I'm used to being able to feel the planet's vibrations, however vaguely." She stared down at the bed. His hand dropped from her arm as soon as he decided she could stand without his support. She felt the loss keenly, but didn't look at him or protest. "I can meditate on softer surfaces," she continued, "but it's not the same."

His gaze was steady. "Is that what you Jedi have been doing throughout the war? Meditating?" The question was not quite accusatory, but it was hard, nonetheless.

She laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. "Some were, but most were on the front lines from the first hints of trouble."

"That would explain Ithor, Coruscant, Lin-Ta…"

Her voice became sharp with rebuke. "Corran Horn fought for – and won – Ithor, but the 'Vong went back on their word. Coruscant was everyone's fault; you can't blame the Jedi alone for its fall."

"And Lin-Ta?" he demanded harshly, pulling away from her. "Where were the Jedi then?"

Words failed her momentarily; her breath caught. "The only warning," she said finally, slowly, "was the pain of feeling a world die; an ache so sharp that many Jedi were confined to the med-bay and in varying degrees of unconsciousness. Before anyone could even scream, it was over."

He turned away from her and she knew that any further attempt today would be a lost cause. He was closed to her. "I don't believe you," he grated out, fists clenching spastically as he paced from side to side.

She folded her arms. "Fine. Don't. But you can't keep running away from reality. The Jedi weren't perfect; they couldn't save everyone – that's not to say they didn't try, of course."

He didn't seem prepared to let it go and it occurred to her that perhaps all the resentment focused on the Jedi was really squashed illusions of Jedi invulnerability. "The Jedi defeated the Empire – "

"No, the Rebel Alliance defeated the Empire. But why bring the Empire into this? You can't compare it to the 'Vong – the two are entirely different."

"They both took over the Republic."

She laughed bitterly. "You've obviously never met a real 'Vong." She sighed. "The Empire already had control of the galaxy when the Rebel Alliance began to take control back. But even more, the Empire was – is – at least half-way humane. The 'Vong are radicals and bloodthirsty and they don't try to hide it."

"You don't have to tell me that – I saw their work myself."

Jaina paused. "You went to Lin-Ta?" she asked quietly.

His shoulder tensed and soul-imprints hit Jaina through the Force like whips. She barely had time to feel her soul cry out before he answered. "As soon as I heard about the attack." There was a long stretch of silence before he continued. "There were corpses everywhere," he said, his voice cracking. "Bodies burning – what was left of them, that is. My sister…" He took a shuddering breath. "My family and friends were strewn about the street like slaughtered animals."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why?" he asked bitterly, turning back to her. "Did I ruin the image of your Knighting ceremony?"

Her temper flared up reflexively, but she pushed it back down. She had seen holos from Lin-Ta's wreckage; she had watched holo-net series on it; she had felt the voices of the people of Lin-Ta in her mind. She could not, on good conscience, lash out at one of its survivors while he was so clearly vulnerable, even if he did blame the Jedi for it.

Tiran studied her for a long moment, his face a mask of torment. Under his pain she could feel a struggle in him, but she couldn't feel the origins of it. Before she could search further, he was gone.

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~TJF