DEEP SPACE- THE CORE- CHIMAERA
FEBRUARY YEAR 1053
"Status report of the fleet, Control," Wedge requested, shifting his weight to keep from falling as another massive plasma blast shook the bridge.
"The latest command orders have been confirmed as received by the Jade Shadow and all starfighter command, Sir. They are ready to move into position as soon as you give the signal. The 181st moving to assist the Alderaanian contingent under Colonel Fel's brother, as ordered. The Millennium Falcon reports heavy losses but they are holding as of now and indicated that they appreciate the extra support. The reports show that approximately three-fourths of the Hapan Navy have been lost, and quite a few of our own Imperial ships have been destroyed, including the Adjudicator, the Conqueror, the Emperor's Will, and the Intrepid. We have frigates out trying to pick up as many personnel as possible in order to transfer them to other ships. Same with any pilots that have gone EV. Most of the squadrons are flying short-handed, and we are trying to scrounge up extra TIEs to get the pilots who lost their fighters back out. We are monitoring the status of all squadrons, so we can send them where we are the thinnest," the officer recited.
Wedge nodded then turned to the bridge crew. "Captain, how are our shields doing?"
"We're holding, for now, sir. But our shields are down to less than fifty percent," the man answered briskly. "If we keep taking the sort of hits we are…"
"Thank you, Captain," Wedge answered, turning back to stare out the viewpoint. They were going to have to make a decision soon, the fleet would soon be unable to withstand the punishing damage that was being inflicted. Jag's plan to have the fighters and small ships go after the capital ships was a good one, would give them some much-needed breathing room. Wedge just had no idea how Jag planned to get rid of the skippers in order to give the TIE pilots the opportunity they needed.
"General, we also have an update from the team analyzing the Vong communications," another officer broke in. "Intelligence wasn't able to get all of it but it mentioned Colonel Fel and gave his gravitic transponder signal. Should we send him an alternate signal to switch to?"
"No," Wedge answered, after a slight pause. "He can handle it. But have intelligence continue working on intercepting the villip communications."
"What is your nephew playing at, now?" Pellaeon asked quietly as he moved to stand next to Wedge.
Wedge had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what Jag's plan was. But if it worked…
"Sir," Control said, a sense of urgency in his tone. "It looks like all the Vong fighters are pulling out. They all left on different vectors, we have people working on analyzing their final destination so we can determine what their target is."
Wedge glanced quickly out the viewport, seeing the Imperial fighters and smaller ships hesitate for a minute, unsure if they should give chase to the fighters that seemed to be fleeing.
"Should we give the order for pursuit, sir?" Control asked with uncertainty.
"No, this is what we were waiting for. Send a transmission to Jade Shadow and all starfighter command units. Have them move into position as per the order relayed earlier and launch as per instructed," Wedge said swiftly. "And tell the analysts not to bother tracking the vectors of those coralskippers. I already know where they're heading."
"He's baiting them to divide their forces, using himself as the lure. And it looks like it's working," Pellaeon said with sudden understanding. "But what I don't understand, is what's the end game? He doesn't have any more forces in reserve, at least not that I know of. How is he going to destroy the skippers once they fall into his trap?"
"It's not a trap," Wedge said grimly. "It's a gamble to gain us time, to give us an edge. Jag is the best pilot I have ever seen but I don't know if that will be enough. Let's just hope he's inherited his share of Coreillian luck."
The Grand Admiral nodded stiffly.
"Then let's make sure his actions don't go to waste," Pellaeon responded before turning to the bridge crew. "Captain, full power to frontal weapons. I want to blast as much firepower into that Worldship as we can. Instruct all battleships with fully functioning weapons to do the same. With General Antilles' approval, of course."
The Grand Admiral turned to Wedge who immediately nodded in agreement, trying to push his concern for Jag to the back of his mind. Pellaeon was right, the only thing he could do for his nephew now was to ensure the risk he was taking- the potential sacrifice he was making- was not in vain.
"Agreed. It's time we give the Vong a taste of their own medicine."
DEEP SPACE- THE CORE
FEBRUARY YEAR 1053
Jag adjusted his power output, pushing everything he had to his engines and his rear shields instead of his weapons. If all went according to plan, they would be mostly unnecessary and his maneuverability would be the most critical.
And then he waited.
His mind raced, trying to compute all the potential flaws in his quickly improvised plan. He had spent a fair amount of time studying Vong military tactics in the past year, trying to find their weaknesses and exploit them. He had spent an equivalent amount of time studying their culture and belief system in order to better anticipate their actions. The Freed Ones, via Kyp, had provided a wealth of useful knowledge to better understand the behavior and thought processes of their Warrior brothers.
Jag knew that the instructions Kyp's contact provided to the yammosks would only work for a short period of time. Eventually, the war coordinators would self-correct and recall a majority of the fighters back to the battle. But Jag was fairly certain that the opportunity to kill him would appeal to the Vong warrior sense of honor and that most would continue the mission.
He had lead many successful attacks on the Vong, and if Kyp was to be believed, they held him solely responsible for the recent string of Imperial victories. His reputation made him a prestigious opponent for the proud warrior class, a worthy sacrifice to Yun-Yammka.
The warrior who killed Jagged Fel was certain to earn favor with their bloodthirsty god, and that was a very powerful motivation in the Vong culture. Many would not want that chance taken from them, especially once they already had him in their sights and had started the hunt. The other coralskippers would simply become competitors after the same prize.
Jag was pretty confident that his plan would work, that he had predicted the enemy's next move accurately. He had always had a unique ability to anticipate his adversary's actions. A skill his father, and then Thrawn, had encouraged him to cultivate. But there was always the possibility of something going wrong. If his plan did work as he intended, however; he would soon have a serious swarm of skippers heading his way. And it was his job to keep them distracted from the main battle for as long as possible.
Suddenly his sensor board frantically lit up in red, giving him a split second warning before skippers were coming at him from multiple angles, plasma blasters firing relentlessly. Jag waited, not moving for precious seconds as the Vong encircled him. More waves of skippers followed in their wake in case the initial wave failed, some warriors jockeying with each other for a better position.
Jag waited until the enemy was close enough, knowing he needed to time his maneuver exactly in order to inflict optimal damage. Then he threw his craft around its ball-shaped cockpit, spraying laser bolts in every direction. The Clawcraft spin was a popular Chiss tactic, the erratic spiral making the fighter impossible to target while still inflicting significant damage to the enemy.
Jag kept the spin going on for as long as he could before emerging and pulling up and away from the skippers at an angle that cast doubt on the existence of inertia. Jag was thrown sideways into the netting of his pilot's couch, but quickly regained control and took a brief minute to survey the results. He had taken out an impressive number of skips with that move but there were still too many left to count.
He accepted that he might not make it out of this, that what he was doing bordered on suicidal. But if he could give the main fleet the time they needed to defeat the Vong his sacrifice would be more than worth it. Juking back to the right as more skips closed in on him, he prepared to lead them on a dizzy chase.
Jaina jumped with Kyp and the Chiss pilot that was temporarily flying their wing, waiting for the cloak to be dismantled and remove the eerie sense of darkness. As the cloaking function disabled, Jaina had a front-row seat to the smuggler ships moving in for the kill. The intimidating Worldship had definitely been defanged by the Vanguard's efforts, all its plasma blasters disabled from the carefully aimed ion cannons. While the Worldship was by no means harmless, it was definitely vulnerable to a well-planned attack.
"This is Jade Shadow," Mara Jade's voice came over the comm unit. "We got this from here, Vanguard. Nice work softening them up for us."
"Copy, Jade Shadow," Kyp answered. "We'll get out of your way. Vanguards, there's plenty of Capital Ships to go around, so let's go join the party. Sending target coordinates to each of you now. Three and Four, you're with me. Seven and Nine, you're on Five. All other flights form up and fire at will at assigned targets."
Jaina clicked her comm and flew into position on Kyp's right-hand side, feeling a renewed sense of energy. The Smugglers Coalition was making a dent in the Worldship, and if intelligence was correct and the leading Vong military personnel were all on board, this could be the final push for victory.
"We could actually win this," Jaina murmured to herself and smiled, placing a hand on her stomach.
And then she felt a sudden rush of debilitating panic and slammed stop mid-flight.
"Two, everything ok?" Kyp asked.
"No," Jaina gasped. "Kyp, Jag's in trouble. We have to go help him."
"Jaina, calm down," Kyp ordered. "What did you hear? Did you get an alert?"
"No, I just- I don't know how to explain it," Jaina started. "I just have this feeling that he's in trouble. He needs help."
"Look, Jaina," Kyp said slowly. "I know what he's doing is dangerous, but I'm sure he's got a trademark-Jag, meticulous plan in place and has everything under control-"
"You don't get it," Jaina said through gritted teeth, "this isn't just me being worried. I know that he's a great pilot. It doesn't matter, he's in danger. I've- I've had feelings like this before and they are always right. You need to believe me."
"Okay, "Kyp answered quickly. "I believe you. But there's no way Jag would want me and you to fly in and try to rescue him, just the two of us. He would kill me if I put you in that sort of danger. I mean, it's possible the distraction alone could get him killed."
Jaina sat in silence for a minute then switched her comm to the main fleet frequency.
"Control, this is Vanguard Three. I need a direct connection to General Antilles immediately," Jaina demanded.
"Vanguard Three, General Antilles is not available-" a voice returned.
"Tell General Antilles that Vanguard Leader is in serious danger and we can lose everything if he doesn't act now," Jaina said impatiently.
"Vanguard Three, this is General Antilles. Why don't we move over to a private channel."
"Fine," Jaina answered impatiently and turned to a private channel.
"Jaina, do you copy?" Wedge's voice asked.
Jaina clicked her comm in response.
"Did Jag reach out to you directly for help?" Wedge asked urgently.
"Not exactly," Jaina answered. "But I do know that he needs backup. Now."
Jaina waited, her dread building as the silence extended.
"I'm sorry, Jaina. We don't have any forces to send now if we want to complete the mission," Wedge's voice finally broke the silence. "As soon as we can, we will send two squadrons-"
"No, you don't understand," Jaina answered frantically. "That will be too late!"
"Jaina, is that you?" another voice questioned angrily. A very familiar one. "What are you thinking, flying in this?"
"Dad-"
"Solo?" Wedge questioned, clearly irritated. "What are you even doing on this channel?"
"I like to have Threepio monitor all the channels when I'm flying. It keeps me informed and it keeps him busy. He correctly assumed I would be interested in what my daughter had to say after that public comm request."
"Han, you know you can't-"
We don't have time for that now. Jag's in trouble," Jaina said impatiently. "I can feel it, just how Mom can sometimes feel when you're in trouble. And we're just wasting time… that's it, I'm going to help him. At least I know Kyp will back me up."
"Absolutely not, young lady," Han answered.
"Vanguard Three, you will stand down," Wedge said at the same time.
Both men realized Jaina Solo was perfectly capable of ignoring both of them.
"You know what, It's gotten a bit quiet over here. Especially now that Wedge's squadrons and Jade's group are distracting the capital ships," Han said casually. "Maybe me and a couple of boys from the 181st can go check it out."
"No," Wedge said quickly. "Jag specifically told us not to send anyone and we cannot risk losing the momentum he bought us. Solo, I order you to stay at your post."
"Come on, Wedge," Han answered with a smile. "You know I'm not one for following orders. And your other nephew and his squadron have already agreed to go with me. They also heard Jaina's request."
And with that, Han closed his connection, leaving Wedge to bluster ineffectively. Jaina just prayed fervently that her dad made it there in time.
Jag cut hard to starboard and a magma blast destroyed two skippers that had been on his tail, caught off guard. Jag felt his chest compress as the clawcraft's inertial compensator failed to keep with the pressure his fighter was generating. Two other fighters who had followed the blast turned after him, but Jag had pulled a gut-wrenching one-eighty, placing the skips in his targeting sights. As they curved starboard he fired, taking them out before they could properly aim their weapons.
Without breaking stride, Jag accelerated towards a new oncoming wave of skips coming head-on, while another group appeared on his tail. Once he was less than a meter away from the oncoming group he forced the fighter into a steep dive, narrowly avoiding the oncoming fighters. A quick glance out his side viewport confirmed that the enemy on his tail had not been so lucky and the explosion from the crash gave him a moment of cover.
Before Jag could regroup, he felt the clawcraft shake and suddenly his sensor board lit up red, accompanied by a warning alarm to evacuate. He bit back a curse. His shields had finally given out, having been pushed to their limit and there were at least a few dozen skips still out there, ready to make a pass at him. Jag ignored the blaring sirens, gritting his teeth as he juked to his left, trying to avoid the constant plasma blasts assailing his unprotected fighter. And then he was jolted back in his seat, his clawcraft slowing and leaning listlessly to one side. Smoke billowed around him, blocking his visibility.
He had lost his engines.
He was now a sitting duck, with no shields and no engines, an easy shot even for a novice. Jag briefly considered going EV, then decided against it. The Vong would no doubt track his projectile faster than the Imperials and then he would be completely defenseless. Vulnerable. At least if he stayed in his clawcraft he could go down shooting.
Jag just wished he knew if his plan had worked. If he had bought the army of the Known Regions enough time to turn the tide. At least then he would know if he was dying a hero or a failure.
Either way, he knew he was dead. There was no way around that.
Jag closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them they were filled with grim resolve, and he was prepared for his final stand.
And then he heard an unmistakable voice over the open comm channel, just as an even more unmistakable Coreillian YT-300 freighter flew by his aft. Followed by three squadrons of TIE fighters adorned with red stripes. The Elite 181st, what was left of his father's last Imperial command.
"Vanguard Lead, this is Millennium Falcon. Sorry to just drop in, but me and my friends were in the neighborhood," Han said casually.
"No apologies necessary, sir," Jag answered calmly, while his mind struggled to process the sudden reversal in fortune.
The pilots of the 181st had managed to push back the oncoming skips and had set up a loose line between him and the fighters as they fought off the enemy's savage attack. The Millennium Falcon pulled closer to his clawcraft.
"Looks like you need a lift, kid," Han said. "Go EV and I'll give you a ride."
"Copy, General Solo," Jag answered. "Preparing for EV now."
By the time Jag was walking into the Falcon's cockpit, his thoughts had already moved past his miraculous escape from certain death and had, instead, turned to the status of the principal battleground.
Han was barking orders into his comm unit, directing the 181st to pull out and return to the main force. A large Wookie sat in the co-pilot seat, his massive hands manipulating the ship's controls as they prepared for their own jump.
Jag remembered Jaina's stories about her father's long time best friend and co-pilot, the Wookie, Chewbacca. According to Jaina, Chewbacca had settled down on his home planet over ten years ago. The Solo family had taken annual family vacations to visit but rarely had Chewbacca left Kashyyk.
It looked like the war was helping to bring old friends back together again.
Chewbacca woofed a greeting- at least Jag assumed it was a greeting- and Han turned around, his eyes falling on his new son-in-law.
"Good, you're here. Grab a seat and strap in. We're getting ready to blast out of here," Han said before turning back to the cockpit controls. "I got orders to take you directly to the Chimaera."
"What's the status of the battle?" Jag asked, leaning forward as he strapped into the jump seat behind Han.
"Last I saw, your Vanguards had disabled the Worldship's rear weapons and the smugglers were going in to do as much damage as possible," Han answered.
Jag nodded, leaning back into his seat.
"Thank you for the unexpected rescue party, by the way," Jag said, breaking the silence. "The timing was excellent."
"Well, lucky for you my daughter wants to keep you around," Han grumbled. "Speaking of which, what the hell are you thinking letting her fly in this when she's almost four-months pregnant? Are you insane?"
"Trust me, sir. It wasn't my first choice either," Jag answered dryly. "Jaina is very… strong-willed."
Han looked at him knowingly, "Don't I know it kid. She gets it from her mother."
DEEP SPACE- THE CORE- CHIMAERA
FEBRUARY YEAR 1053
When Han dropped him off at the Chimaera, Jag headed straight for the bridge with some urgency. Jag had briefly spoken to Kyp on the way. He had assured Han and Jag that Jaina was fine, but that it was getting pretty ugly out there. Chewy had already been locking onto Vanguard Squadron's location when they landed in the hangar bay. Jag knew Jaina was in good hands, but now he was seriously concerned about the status of the battle raging around them.
"Jag," Wedge said, turning around to see his nephew with a relieved smile on his face. "It's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back," Jag answered laconically. "So did it work?"
"We were able to take out the Worldship's rear plasma blasters and have a small force working on taking it out," Wedge said. "But the outer walls have regenerative abilities far superior to what our forces have seen. The rest of the navy is trying to keep the Vong off the Taskforce's back, but we're not going to be able to hold much longer. The Worldship is no longer a direct threat, but it's proving too difficult to take out completely."
"I see," Jag answers noncommittally. "And what do you recommend?"
"A strategic retreat," Wedge said evenly. "We hurt them pretty bad today, Jag. Worse than anyone expected us to. But we took heavy losses, too, and we need time to regroup and rebuild. The good news is they will too after this, so we have at least gained a respite."
Except the Vong had much greater resources to pull from, could grow a new fighter in less than a month. Not only did it take much longer to build a new ship, but it also cost a lot of money. Especially when a majority of the Imperial shipyards had been wrecked by the Vong in the Outer Rim.
"And do you agree, Grand Admiral?" Jag asked Pellaeon who had been standing next to Wedge and listening with interest.
"I think the General's evaluation of the situation is correct," Pellaeon responded. "Right now this is a small victory, one we can build on. If we continue and lose too high a number of ships and men, we leave the Known Regions vulnerable without any protection. That being said, I speak for the Imperial Navy when I say that we will follow you, whatever you decide."
Jag was surprised by the Grand Admiral's declaration of allegiance but quickly decided to examine that at a later time. Now, Jag concentrated on the fact that he was responsible for billions of beings, for preserving a very way of life. It wasn't only the military that would be impacted by his choices, but all the civilians who would be killed or enslaved if the Vong completed their conquest.
Jag truly believed they would not be given a better chance to defeat the Vong, that many of the tactics that gave them momentary advantages would not be available or effective next time they met. And he worried that if they didn't defeat them now, the subjugation of the Known Regions to the Vong was inevitable.
But he also knew that Wedge was right. That continuing to unsuccessfully throw their forces at the Worldship was tantamount to mass suicide.
"It needs to be done carefully and precisely," Jag finally answered, voice resigned. "If the Vong scent blood we are dead in space. We'll start with the ships with the most damage, have the TIE squadrons run a screen-"
"Sir, we just picked up a new force coming out of hyperspace!"
Jag's head snapped towards the frantic announcement, his stomach sinking. If the Vong has brought in reinforcements there would be no chance of a strategic retreat. They would be lucky if they were able to get a handful of ships back to Naboo.
"More capital ships?" Jag asked quickly.
"No, sir. It looks like.. systems just confirmed it's three Chiss Star Destroyers," the man answered. He paused for a second, listening. "They are hailing us, asking to speak to you, Colonel Fel."
"Open a connection with them," Wedge commanded.
The team answered with alacrity and seconds later, blue skin and piercing red eyes flickered into existence on the holoprojector.
"Ah, Colonel Fel, General Antilles," Thrawn said. "It looks like I am just in time for the coup de grace."
"I'm sorry, sir," Jag said slowly. "While we certainly appreciate your support, I'm not sure at this point the ships you have brought will be enough to defeat the remaining Vong forces."
"You are correct, Colonel Fel," Thrawn answered easily. "However, I have arrived at the ideal time for Alpha Red to be used as a devastating deathblow."
"Alpha Red?" Wedge asked, with a small frown. "I'm not familiar with that Chiss weapon."
"That is because it has just recently been developed," Thrown said with a small smile. "I assure you, it will be quite effective against Yuuzhan Vong-related creatures, both sentient and non-sentient. If you would ask our Yuuzhan Vong allies to exit the system, I can demonstrate. Once we release the bioweapon it will not be possible to control the effects in the immediate vicinity."
Wedge was already turning to the Communication Officer, instructing him to send an urgent message to the Freed One cells.
"You may want to also start pulling the rest of your forces back," Thrown continued. "While our scientists have assured me the bioweapon targets a genetic strand unique to the Yuuzhan Vong biological makeup, you can never be too careful."
Jag nodded, and quickly relayed the command to Control, an urgent recall to all forces.
"I must say, Colonel Fel, I am quite impressed," Thrawn said suddenly.
"Impressed, sir?" Jag asked.
"You exceeded even my expectations, Colonel," Thrown continued easily. "I had hoped the enemy's fleet would be weakened by the time I came, but you have done even better than I hoped. An excellent demonstration of command and strategy."
"Thank you, sir," Jag answered, as Wedge came up behind him.
"The Freed Ones have exited the system," Wedge confirmed. "And our forces are pulling out, all TIE squadrons are returning to command ships effective immediately."
"Perfect," Thrawn said. "Alpha Red is being released now."
Jag's eyes immediately went to the viewport, watching as the sleek Chiss Destroyers moved into position in front of the retreating warfleet of the Known Regions. And then an explosion of missiles blasted towards the Vong forces, landing on the living ships with no evident impact.
Jag watched as the Vong fleet moved, having apparently decided to take the battle to the Imperials, interpreting the sudden retreat as a weakness. Just as Jag had predicted. Their warrior nature scorned weakness as a thing to be routed out.
Jag clutched his hands, his knuckles white, as the imposing army moved closer. And then to his disbelief, the Vong ships started melting in front of him. Jag watched in awe as the Vong ships began to liquefy at an alarming rate, the ranks disappearing as the Vong remains were sucked up by space.
"Jag," a female voice called from behind him.
Jag spun around and then Jaina was running towards him, collapsing into his arms.
"Thank the force you're okay," she said, pulling back. "What's going on? Are we retreating?"
Jag turned her around, so she was looking out the front viewport. A perfect view of the disintegrating fleet that had been a formidable foe only moments before.
"Sithspit," Jaina said under her breath as she saw the depth and speed of the destruction.
They stood there in silence, watching as their enemy disappeared without them having to lift a finger.
"Jag," Jaina started slowly. "Does this mean- does this mean we won? That the war is actually over?"
Jag stared at her for a long moment, before his mouth curved in a small half-smile.
Then an explosion of emotion erupted from the side of the bridge as the crew started to fully appreciate what they had just witnessed. And the jubilation spread like wildfire.
"Congratulations, Jag," Wedge said, walking towards his nephew with a big smile. "We have officially defeated the Vong army and saved the Known Regions."
"All in a day's work, right?" Jag asked.
Wedge laughed, "Right."
Then he turned to the bridge crew, "Alright, everyone. Let's get this fleet back to Naboo so we can celebrate our victory properly!"
NABOO
FEBRUARY YEAR 1053
Jaina entered the almost deserted hangar bay quietly, thinking it was strange to be here without the usual buzz and hum of the mechanics and pilots. It reminded her of the night she and Jag had snuck off so she could see his clawcraft for the first time.
As she had expected, the hangar bay wasn't completely deserted, and she watched for a minute as her husband tinkered with his damaged clawcraft.
"They were able to save it, huh?" Jaina asked, breaking the silence.
Jag kept his eyes on the fuselage he was tightening, "Luckily the Vong stopped shooting at it after I went EV, so the damage isn't too bad. I should be able to repair it fairly quickly."
"Everyone's looking for you, you know," Jaina said casually. "They want a chance to talk to the hero of the hour."
"There are plenty of heroes there without me," Jag answered simply. "I'm sure Durron could single-handedly provide the necessary war stories and entertainment, if needed."
Jaina hummed noncommittally, wondering if this was just her husband's inherent disinterest in social gatherings or if something else was bothering him.
"It's a bit surreal, isn't it?" Jaina tried to break Jag's silence. "I mean, Javon and Zekk are dead, the Vong are defeated. I always had faith we would succeed but now that we have… I guess I'm just not exactly sure what's supposed to happen next."
"That makes two of us," Jag answered with a shrug.
"I know you met with Thrawn and the Chiss delegation earlier but we haven't had time to talk about it," Jaina asked tentatively. "Did they offer to reinstate you in the CEFD?"
"No," Jag answered. "And it wouldn't matter if they did. That part of my life is over, everything important to me is here."
Jag looked meaningfully at Jaina and the slight curve to her stomach, just barely visible.
"They wanted to know if the new Imperial government would be open to a more formal treaty with the Chiss," Jag continued. "I told them it was likely and that I would do what I could to help with negotiations."
"And who would these negotiations be with, exactly?" Jaina asked, knowingly.
Jag remained silent, and Jaina worried that her last question had been too heavy-handed. She would have to work with her mother on her diplomatic maneuvering. Just as Jaina was about to awkwardly change the subject, Jag spoke quietly.
"A delegation from Coruscant recently arrived, offering me the Imperial throne."
"Will you accept it?" Jaina asked carefully.
"I have been fighting for years for this," Jag said with a sigh. "To dismantle the tyrant and uphold my father's legacy. To gain the crown that he was denied. It's my birthright. But now that it's being offered to me on a silver platter, I'm not so sure I even want it."
Jag stood up and began pacing across the floor. Jaina watched him, wanting to help but also not wanting to push him, knowing that there was a chance he would just shut down if she pushed too hard. So she waited patiently, wishing for just a moment that Jag didn't have to be the heir to Soontir Fel. Didn't have to carry the weight of Empires on his shoulders.
But then he would not be the Jagged Fel she had fallen in love with. They were both products of their history.
Of their destiny.
Suddenly Jag stopped. "It's just- I'm a pilot, not a politician. I'm not sure I even know how to be one."
"No, you're not a politician," Jaina answered. "But you are a leader and you care about the people you defend. Jovan was the consummate politician, and look where that got the Empire? Maybe that's not what we need."
"I know," Jag said half-heartedly. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
They both knew the answer to that question. Jag had a strict sense of duty which Jaina found both admirable and frustrating, depending on the situation. Jaina had always known what he would do when this moment came.
"Not if you're Jagged Fel," Jaina answered with a shrug.
Jag smiled grimly at her, "I don't think I'm going to enjoy it very much."
Jaina smiled, as she walked closer to him, taking his hand in hers.
"Probably not. Think of all the lavish- and deadly boring- events you will be required to attend," Jaina answered teasingly. "Not to mention dealing with the inevitable back-stabbing sycophants and corrupt politicians."
"You're making me seriously reconsider my decision, Princess," Jag said wryly.
"But," Jaina continued, weaving her arms around his neck, "at least you'll have me there to help. I'll just have to take a quick refresher course in Leia Solo's Guide to Diplomatic Relations."
Jag smiled, then his expression turned serious as he looked deep into her eyes.
"Are you sure this is something you want?" Jag asked, uncertainty in his tone. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."
"What I want is to be by your side, whether that's out in our snubfighters, or at an official state dinner," Jaina answered with a soft smile. "I signed up for sticking by your side no matter what happens. You're gonna have to do a lot more than become Emperor to scare me off."
The clear gratitude in Jag's deep green eyes and the small smile that curved his lips pulled on Jaina's heartstrings and she pulled him down into a deep kiss. She poured all the love and support she could into their physical connection, as Jag eagerly pulled her closer.
Finally, Jaina pulled away and took a step back, although she kept one hand firmly in his.
"Come on," she urged with a tug. "We can ease you into your new public obligations. At least the party downstairs has no politicians. Or worse, reporters. Which means you can get drunk enough for the both of us."
Jag laughed, thinking how lucky he was to have Jaina Solo by his side as he followed her out of the empty hangar.