Flying Solo (post-DN trilogy; Jaina angst)
Ossus was sleeping.
It was early, or late depending on the point of view.
The twin suns of the Adega system were just starting to stir, on opposite sides of the horizon, and the breeze coming down from the mountains sent a shiver through Jaina Solo's entire body.
Her black flightsuit was far from flimsy, but it offered little warmth in the cool morning air.
Or maybe the cold was coming from within, it was hard to tell these days.
In the back corner of her mind, she felt a distant stirring as her mother awoke to find her missing from the suite her parents were occupying. She had spent the night in their quarters since they'd arrived on Ossus so late in the evening, putting off finding her own accommodations until morning so as not to bother Tionne.
Leia reached out in her direction with the Force, concerned about her disappearance.
With a sigh, Jaina reached back, just for a moment, to assure her mother that nothing was wrong, she just couldn't sleep.
She half-expected her mother to offer her company, but Leia must have sensed that she really just wanted some time to herself, because the only response she got was a quick, warm touch through the Force, the equivalent of a mental hug, and then her mother withdrew.
Maybe being officially promoted to the status of a full Jedi Knight had made her mother more perceptive.
Either way, Jaina was proud of her.
Not all that long ago, she had resented her mother for never completing her training, and the bitterness had manifested itself in some harsh criticism that, now that she was older, still made her ashamed of herself, even if her mother had forgiven her a long time ago. Her anger had been equal parts frustration that Leia was wasting her gifts, and disappointment that her mother was too busy to find time for her training, much less for her children.
But that had been a long time ago, and they had both changed over the years.
Her mother had abandoned politics, at long last, much to her father's relief, and since Leia had started training with Saba Sebatyne, Jaina felt that they could finally understand one another a little better.
After all, she was the Sword of Jedi; all her life was good for was serving the Force.
It was serving the Order that she wasn't so sure about anymore.
Things were changing, and she wasn't certain she liked where the Jedi were headed, not that she had even the faintest idea where they were going in the first place.
All she knew was that, for the first time in her life, she did not feel at peace at the Jedi Temple.
It went beyond the lingering affects of the hive mind, which dissipated more and more with each passing day, or the strange glances that she and Zekk received from the rest of the Jedi, who looked at them differently now, and probably always would.
Even Zekk's decision to leave for a while, so that their bond could unravel on its own, wasn't the source of her uneasiness.
She would miss him when he left, but it was for the best.
They could not continue on with their minds seeping into one another's, it would drive them to insanity, and, truth be told, she was looking forward to having her thoughts to herself again.
And to the absence of Zekk's.
Jaina had always known that he still loved her, but being joined had left her no room to feign ignorance, and him no room to hide it.
Would it always be awkward between them, both knowing how deeply he loved her, and knowing that she, despite trying, could simply not return those feelings? Zekk had been her first love, her girlhood romance, but that had ended a long time ago and they'd parted as friends. He'd gone off into the galaxy until the war brought him back, and she'd gone on to discover other loves in other places.
A part of her worried over such matters, dreading his departure as much as she anticipated it, but it wasn't Zekk that was truly troubling her.
It wasn't even the distant greeting she'd received from her uncle.
Her refusal to answer the summons to Ossus had been a slap in the face to Luke, and she knew that she had hurt him nearly as much as she had disappointed him. In time, that wound would heal, slowly but surely, just as the distance between her and her parents would.
They were family, they would move past this.
But there would be no moving on with Jacen, or with Jag.
They had all betrayed one another too entirely.
And that was precisely the heart of what was eating away at her now.
Sighing, Jaina leaned against the balustrade, bowing her head and closing her eyes as she tried to make sense of it all. How had it come to this? How had everything gotten so out of control?
While she was connected to the hive mind, things had seemed so clear, but now...
She didn't regret helping the Killiks; it wasn't their fault that Lomi Plo was poisoning the nest. And even though it had put her in direct opposition with Jag, she knew in her heart that protecting the Killiks from extermination had been the right thing to do.
The only thing a Jedi could do in that situation.
But if she'd been in full control of herself, if her mind had been open and unaffected by the hive, she could have found a better way.
A way that wouldn't make an enemy out of the man she loved.
Oh, Jag, she thought, feeling the emptiness in her chest.
Her heart ached for the days before, when things had been so much simpler.
Back before the Killiks, before Raynar had cried out for his friends through the Force and brought them to his side. But even then, there had been strain between her and Jag.
There always had been.
He'd wanted her to return to Csilla with him at the end of the war, and she had known all along that she would never be able to.
The Sword of the Jedi didn't have the luxury of a "happily ever after".
Her place was with the Jedi, even if she had left the Order she would never have been able to escape that. She was the niece of Luke Skywalker, the granddaughter of the Chosen One, and the Force wasn't going to just relinquish her from its custody so that she could play house with Jag on some artic world in the middle of nowhere.
Jag had his duty to the Chiss, and she had hers to the Force.
She was never going to have a normal life, she was never going to grow old with someone, it just wasn't in the cards for her and she'd accepted that.
It had been more difficult for Jag.
"You don't have to do anything, Jaina! No one is forcing you to run around the galaxy playing hero. You could leave it all behind you at any time, you just don't want to."
Jag had been wrong.
Sometimes she did want to, especially at times like this, but in the years since the Yuuzhan Vong had left the galaxy, she'd had a lot of time to think about things and she'd come to some rather difficult conclusions about herself.
She just wasn't made to live a long, prosperous life and die at home in old age, surrounded by grandchildren.
Hers was a life of fighting, her uncle had said so himself at the Knighting Ceremony, when the Force moved him to slap her with the "Sword" brand in the first place. She would keep throwing herself into one conflict after another, until the day came when she found a fight that she couldn't win, and all she could do was hope that her death somehow made a difference.
Jaina knew, in her heart, that she could never have given Jag what he wanted, what he deserved.
But that didn't make it any less painful.
She had hurt him, disgraced him by letting Lowbacca participate in the strike against Chiss forces, and she didn't blame him for being furious with her.
He'd stood up for her, and she'd essentially spit in his face.
Lowbacca should never have been part of that strike, free of the hive she could see that now, and she knew that by allowing Lowie to participate she had struck the Fel family a stinging blow, but what did Jag think she should have done?
Just stand idly by picking her nails while the Chiss wiped out an entire species?
The sad part was, that was probably exactly what he thought she should have done. Jag might have been full-blooded Corellian, but he was raised as a Chiss, and being the good soldier that he was, Jag followed orders without question. It was one of the things that had undermined their relationship, her frustration that he was willing to be a "blind follower" and his disdain for the fact that she would follow orders only as long as she agreed with them.
Maybe they'd just been too different from the start.
Not that it matters now, Jaina reminded herself silently. Jag hates me, and I highly doubt that's going to change any time soon.
What had he said to her at Tenupe?
That she'd forsaken her honor, or something along those lines, by breaking her word. And maybe he was right, maybe she had dishonored his family and herself with some of her actions as of late, but she knew that a good portion of Jag's anger was born out of disappointment.
In truth, she was disappointed in him, as well.
How ironic, that they had both expected better out of each other.
Maybe someday Jag would forgive her, or at least move past his anger enough to see that she hadn't been the only one at fault.
She would just have to have faith that someday things would work out.
At least with Jag.
Things with Jacen, she knew, would never be all right.
Too much had happened now, there had been too much deceit and treachery between them, and they could not go back from this.
Her brother, her twin.
And he had used her, lied to her.
Manipulated her as a tool just like everyone else.
She didn't know what Jacen was up to, the twin bond they had shared since conception was dormant now, Jacen did not want even the slightest inkling leaking out to her.
In truth, a part of her was glad to see the bond gone.
This was not the Jacen she'd grown up with.
That Jacen had died during his Yuuzhan Vong captivity, and what Vergere had brought back to them was just a shade, a shadow of Jacen that Jaina did not recognize. She had struggled to connect him with him ever since his return, with some success, but there had always been reservation.
Now, at least, she understood why.
The old Jacen would never have done the things he'd done now, would never have used his friends and family like pawns in a dejarik game.
But the old Jacen was dead, and this new Jacen was a stranger.
And he was becoming very worrisome.
Jag and Jacen both, Jaina thought with a bitter laugh that could have originated as something closer to a sob. I've lost both of them now.
Maybe forever.
It shouldn't have been a surprise, and she didn't know why she felt so weak all of the sudden, floundering like a krakana out of water. She'd always known that she was meant to be alone, that was the burden of being the Sword.
She just hadn't realized that it would be this lonely.
"You look lost, Goddess."
Startled, Jaina lifted her head at the sound of his voice. She'd been so withdrawn that she hadn't even detected him approaching, and once upon time their bond had been so strong that she'd always known when he was near- one more thing that had deteriorated as of late.
Turning, she found Kyp Durron leaning against a pillar, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"Master Durron," she said softly, avoiding his gaze.
"I haven't been your Master in a long time, Jaina," he retorted, and she couldn't define the tone to his voice. "If I ever really was."
With a deep breath, Jaina looked up at him, taking in the neutral colored robes, the extra gray in his dark locks that hadn't been there a few years ago, and the lines around his eyes and mouth, which were more pronounced than she'd remembered.
He looked older, and tired.
And she knew that she had contributed to that weariness.
It wasn't just Jag and her family that she'd let down recently, she reminded herself.
"I heard Zekk is leaving tomorrow," Kyp commented, as if he were merely making a casual observation about the weather.
"It's for the best," Jaina replied quietly, looking down. "We need time apart, to… separate our minds. To become unjoined. We- Zekk thinks it will be easier if he leaves."
"He'll be back," Kyp assured her.
"I know."
Pushing off of the pillar, Kyp came to join her at the balustrade, gazing out at the distant horizon where the twin suns were spilling a low haze of light into the sky. For a moment, they just stood there together and then, carefully keeping his eyes turned toward the sunrise, Kyp asked, "Do you want to talk about Jag?"
Jaina shook her head. "There's nothing to talk about."
Kyp gave her a sideways glance, knowing that wasn't true, but he didn't call her on it. He knew the wounds were too fresh, and knew that when she was ready to talk she would come to him. "Okay, then."
Despite herself, Jaina smiled weakly.
She'd forgotten how nice it was to have him around to lean on.
"Something else is bothering you, though," Kyp said lowly. "Care to tell me what it is?"
Jaina hesitated, uncertain if she wanted to divulge her concerns about Jacen just yet. She'd seen what happened to the people who openly questioned Jacen, they ended up on a "sabbatical" to Dagobah to clear their minds and rediscover themselves, little more than a temporary exile.
She was tempted to join Tahiri, Lowie and Tesar, just to get away from it all.
It would certainly send a message to her brother, to say the least.
But this was Kyp, not her uncle.
Kyp, her partner, the man who'd fought to bring her back from the dark side, whose faith in her was unwavering.
If anyone would believe her, it would be him.
"It's Jacen," she said at last.
That got Kyp's attention, and he turned to face her with a frown. "Jacen?"
She nodded, swallowing hard. "He's changed. He… I don't know how to explain it, he's just not Jacen anymore."
"He has had a bit of an attitude adjustment lately," Kyp agreed slowly. "Cilghal mentioned something about Tahiri and the others distrusting him, that the hive made them afraid of him…"
"It wasn't the hive," Jaina laughed bitterly. "It's Jacen."
Kyp gave her a questioning glance, and she found herself telling him everything. About how Jacen had prevented them from investigating the Chiss weapon on Tenupe, how he'd severed the twin bond they'd shared since conception to keep her out of his mind. She told him about the growing unease that she felt around her brother, about how Jacen had used the Force to manipulate Tahiri, Tesar and Lowbacca, and Kyp's frown deepened with each passing moment. And her fears that Jacen had lied about his vision, for whatever reason, to fuel the war between the Chiss and the Killiks.
There was a lot that Jaina didn't know how to put into words.
Feelings, really, intuitions.
The knot of dread in her stomach that flared whenever Jacen was in close proximity.
And then there was his dealings with their cousin.
"He did something to Ben," she concluded in a hushed whisper.
Kyp raised an eyebrow, a touch of mild concern lighting his emerald eyes.
"He wiped something from Ben's memory."
"Are you sure?"
Jaina gave him a pointed look. "I know a mid-wipe when I see one."
"Touche."
Kyp had been the one to teach her the finer points of mind manipulation, after all, on Gallinore back when she'd been falling helplessly into the darkness and he'd been struggling to pull her back.
"Have you told Luke?"
"He knows. Jacen told him he blocked out a "traumatic" event."
"And you don't believe him?"
"No," Jaina said softly. "I don't."
"Maybe Ben saw something Jacen didn't want him to see," Kyp theorized. "Or heard something."
Jaina nodded, relieved that he wasn't dismissing it as Luke and Mara had after hearing Jacen's excuses. "I think Ben discovered something Jacen didn't want anyone knowing about. So he wiped it from Ben's mind, and then when Uncle Luke confronted him with it after Tahiri and the others told him that I felt Jacen manipulating Ben's thoughts, Jacen made up a story about it being for Ben's own good." She made a noise of disgust. "And Uncle Luke bought it."
"Have you told him about all this?" Kyp asked somberly. "Or your parents?"
"What's the point?" Jaina sighed, frustration knotting her muscles. "They'll believe Jacen over me. After all, he wasn't a Joiner."
And she had a sinking feeling that Jacen had already planting seeds of doubt in her uncle's mind about her credibility and state of mind, as if he knew that she was the one person who bring his plans crashing down on top of him.
"Then we watch him," Kyp declared.
"We?"
"We're partners, remember?" Kyp said evenly. "And I wasn't a Joiner, so Luke can't dismiss my suspicions that easily. Even with your bond cut, you still know Jacen better than anyone. We'll keep our eyes open, we'll watch him like a hawk-bat, and if he tries anything, we'll get in his way. Sooner or later, he's going to slip up, and Master Skywalker will have to see him for what he really is."
"And what is that?" Jaina asked wearily. "What has he become, Kyp?"
"I don't know," Kyp replied quietly. "But it's not good, I can feel that much in my very bones."
Not good.
Strange, she'd never thought those words would fit Jacen, of all people.
She was the wild one, the angry one, the bitter and unstable one. Anakin's death had proven that, when she'd embraced the dark side to avenge him.
But it was Jacen who was really dangerous, and he couldn't even see it.
He thought he was doing the right thing, that he was making sacrifices for the greater good, and she wondered if he could see the parallels to their grandfather's fall all those years ago. Anakin Skywalker had begun with a good intention, to save his wife and children, and had let Palpatine mutate that into something terrible.
What was Jacen's motivation?
She didn't know, and that was part of the problem.
But she would find out, and when she did, she'd have a weapon to use against her brother when it came time to stop him before he lost himself completely.
Looking up at Kyp, Jaina smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asked.
"Everything."
He smiled down at her, that roguish grin that always made her feel like, somehow, everything would be all right.
"Well, in that case, Your Divine Greatness, I forgive you."
Jaina moved against him, wrapping an arm around his ribs and pressing her cheek against the soft material of his tunic. "Kyp?"
"Hmm?"
"Thanks for not making me talk about Jag," she whispered.
Kyp didn't say anything, just brought his arms up to hold her, offering his strength and a silent promise that, no matter what lay ahead, she wouldn't have to face it alone.
She was still the Sword of the Jedi, still the "burning brand".
And she knew that someday, maybe someday soon, she was going to have to confront Jacen.
But she wouldn't have to do it alone.