Chapter 18
Jaina had finally convinced them that the best course of action was to let her remain on Csilla. Uncle Luke and Jacen had been loath to leave her, especially when there was no reason why she couldn't stay with them a while longer. Anakin, however, who knew her predicament, supported her decision to stay. She knew that this would be the first place Jag would go when he realized what had happened, and the last thing she wanted was to appear as if she was hiding. She would face his judgment bravely, and then let him defend his own actions. This wasn't a situation that needed to be avoided.
She checked on their apartment first, and found that it was untampered with, as was expected. She hated the feel of the place now even more than she had in the beginning. It was no longer alien, but rather too familiar. Filled with too much pain.
Unable to stay for long, she packed all her personal items quickly. She knew that after Jag came, things could never be the way they had once been. And so she would say her piece, hear his, and leave. There was no rule that said they had to live together. She could—and would—remain his wife for the rest of her life, but she would do it from the New Republic. She would accept the position offered to her by Rogue Squadron, and then she would just be Jaina Solo again, pilot and Jedi.
When everything of value to her had been packed, she sat and tried to determine what to do while she waited for him to realize the situation she had put him in. It wouldn't be long, she was sure. How long, though, she didn't know. If she had had any friends, she would have taken this time to say her goodbyes. But since Touri was dead and Payton had been the one to kill her, Jaina was all alone.
Well, perhaps not entirely.
Syal Antilles Fel had been one of the few to sympathize with Jaina's predicament. She had bought her gowns, given her advice, done anything she could to help Jaina adjust. And in turn Jaina had betrayed her son's trust. It wasn't something she wanted Syal to hear from anyone else. This was something she should explain to her face, tell her the truth of the matter. It wasn't anything that Jaina wanted to do, but she hadn't really done anything she wanted in a very long time. Always the martyr for someone else's cause.
This in mind, she left her packed bags in the apartment, then hailed a hovertaxi to take her to the Fel Estate. It was a windy afternoon, and Jaina had the feeling a storm was brewing, and a big one if her experience with Csillian weather was any indication. It was growing dark earlier than it should have, and by 1800 hours she was sure it would be pitch black.
Soon the magnificent spectacle of the enormous house loomed on the horizon. Jaina felt her heart move into her throat, but she kept her calm. As they pulled into the parking area Jaina paid the driver handsomely, then got out very slowly. It was frigid outside, but she didn't mind. Perhaps it would chill her sudden fever at being put in such a position. She didn't want Syal to hate her. She had been a good friend and mother-in-law, and Jaina would always remember her so. It was not her fault that her son and his wife had so badly ruined their marriage.
The door to the house opened before Jaina ever got there, a smiling Syal in the doorway. "Hurry inside, child, it's cold enough to freeze a wampa out there!" Jaina did so, banging the boot on the steps to clear it of the snow as she went. The door closed quickly behind her as she rushed inside, cutting off the biting wind. Jaina shrugged off her parka, then hung it on the coat rack in the foyer.
"Jaina, what are you doing on Csilla?" Syal was asking. "Jag said in his last message that you were visiting your family on Coruscant."
Jaina nodded. "I was. But...can we go sit down somewhere?"
"Of course," she smiled, but underneath was a layer of suspicion. She could tell something was troubling her daughter-in-law, and wasn't looking forward to hearing about something that could scare the young Jedi.
Syal led her to the living room, which was richly furnished with a very homey feel that made you want to curl up on the sofa for a nap. Jaina sat reluctantly, her every instinct telling her to run before it was too late. Syal sat across from her in a high-backed chair, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, fingers laced together nervously.
"What's bothering you, Jaina?"
Jaina sighed, but knew the moment had come. This was just another of the many things she had had to face. "When I went to Gortheba with Jag, I began to understand the enemy the Chiss are now engaged with. The Yuuzhan Vong present a very dangerous and confusing problem to my fellow Jedi. They cannot be felt in the Force. I know you probably can't understand what this means, but it's dire. I didn't go to the Empire with Jag because I needed to go tell my Uncle Luke about it. He called a meeting of the Jedi, and we collectively decided that we needed to take action. But Uncle Luke didn't want to just jump in with the intention of war. He wanted to talk to them first. They needed a place that wasn't too difficult to defeat, somewhere he could find an audience willing to listen." Jaina paused to take a few deep breaths, knowing this was the part she had been dreading. "And because of who I was, they asked me to get this information from Jag."
Syal looked appalled. "They asked you to break into his personal files?"
Jaina looked at the ground. Syal sat back, Jaina's guilt answer enough. A swell of dread closed over her. "Oh, Jaina. You didn't."
Jaina looked back up into her eyes, her own brimming with unshed tears. "I love him, Syal, and not just as a friend. I didn't want to do it. I begged them to find some other way. But there wasn't one. I did it for the good of the Jedi, and for Jag and the Chiss too. Nine Jedi brought down the Vong force as Tiras, Syal. Just nine. It almost killed me to do it, but I had to. I had no other choice."
Syal looked away, disappointment evident on her face. "You said you love him. Does your love of the Jedi outweigh your love for my son?"
Jaina opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a voice behind her.
"Of course it does. Otherwise she never would have done it."
Jaina spun around to see Jag standing in the doorway. His face was flushed with anger and hurt, the muscles in his arms and chest as tight as a drum. The sight of him made her go weak in the knees and mad enough to fight and angry Gammorrean at the same time. Anger won out in the end.
Jaina stood defiantly. "You are certainly one to talk, Colonel." She refused to call him Jag. It was too personal of a term for someone she apparently knew so little.
He stepped into the room, hands folded over his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. And whatever it is, it doesn't matter. How could you have done this to me? I can't believe you. I thought we were actually going somewhere, and then you pull an idiotic stunt like this. How can you ever expect me to trust you again?"
Jaina matched him stride for stride until she was close enough she could almost feel the palpable anger emanating from him. She shoved a finger at his face. "I had no choice," she hissed, enunciating every word carefully.
Jag batted her hand out of his face angrily. "Don't give me that shavit. This was all about you, you and your personal glory. Your need to be in the middle of it. Do you realize how you've jeopardized my position?"
Jaina felt her face flush with fury. "What do you know about why I did that? It had nothing to do with me or what I wanted. I agonized for days over doing that to you."
Jag looked away from her a moment, as if trying to regain some self-control before continuing. "Well you certainly seem to be containing your grief well now," he snapped finally.
Jaina gritted her teeth in frustration. "Only after I found out what you did to me!"
"What did I ever do to you that compares to this?" Jag yelled back.
"You lied to me!"
Jag scoffed at the prospect. "About what?"
"About putting me in your squadron," she said, letting all her hurt and anger pour into the simple sentence.
Jag paled at her words, as if they were the last thing he had ever expected to some from her mouth. "That's right," Jaina smirked without even a hint of amusement. "I know."
"You went through my datacards?" he asked finally, incredulous. "What else have you been snooping through?"
Jaina wanted to smack him. "How dare you! You can't even face up to your own deceit. You have to pretend like it was me who did something wrong."
Jag scowled. "Why I did that seems hardly relevant now."
Jaina didn't know what to say. How could she have ever thought she loved him, that he could love her? Her own naivety shocked and disgusted her. But she couldn't deny the pain swelling in her breast, the hurt and betrayal that had been stored up inside for so long. She began to cry, but the tears didn't daunt her in her tirade. "How could you have lied to me like that, Jag? After you knew how important it was to me? You knew."
He looked away, as if afraid to give her a straight answer. "It was for the best."
"The best for who? For you, so that you wouldn't have to put up with any embarrassment I might cause you?"
He met her gaze angrily. "That doesn't even compare to what you've done to me. I trusted you with so much, gave you so much. But it seems I was never more than a replacement for your family until you could reunite with them again. It didn't take long to forget you had 'loved' me did it, Jaina?"
His icy stare sent shivers down her spine. "How could you ever think that? I love you Jag! All I ever wanted was to be happy with you!"
"And you accuse me of lying? You must have been taking lessons from my mother, because I haven't seen a performance this good since her last holodrama."
Jaina took a step back. It was then she realized there wasn't any use in fighting with him. This was a wound in their relationship that could never be mended. She didn't need to stand there and hear his accusations when he wouldn't even give a plasuible excuse for his own actions. Tears streaming down her face, she went around him, heading for the foyer. He followed.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She didn't answer, just hurried into her parka. She couldn't wait on a hovertaxi. She would have to borrow Syal's. "So you're just leaving then?" Jag asked. "No excuse, no apology; nothing?"
Jaina turned to look at him for what would probably be the last time. She copied the sight to memory, saving it in her databank of last goodbyes. This was a moment she never wanted to forget. It was the day her heart died. She looked away and opened the door and stepped out into the open air. It was snowing furiously, a storm bigger than any she had endured so far on Csilla. She didn't care; she just had to get out.
Jag stepped into the doorway and watched her scurry down the steps, the icy wind blasting him in the face. "Fine!" he yelled over the din. "Go ahead and run, then!" he turned furiously, slamming the closing mechanism angrily. He proceeded to knock over a vase and flowers in his ire, scattering glass, water and petals everywhere.
He didn't care, just sunk down onto his mother's couch, head in hands. He felt like weeping, something he hadn't done since early childhood. He was furious to be sure, but level-headed enough to know he had let his ire get the best of him. He had lost his cool in a moment when he should have been deathly calm. He also knew his philippic had driven her away.
At the present it was a knowledge that had less effect than it should have. He was still angry enough to feel less guilt than he should, all his other emotions covered in resentment. All except one.
He hadn't known what to make of her accusations. They weren't unjustly spoken, but it was something Jag had rarely thought of. The day she had been in the bacta tank on the Sanguine he had realized that her bravery warranted merit. He had left her side temporarily, just long enough to call home and report to his father he wanted Jaina placed on his squadron.
The Baron had been aghast at the suggestion. He had stated simply that placing her in such an elite squadron would be seen as nepotism, and would mar Jag's good reputation. She needed to work her way to a better squadron, he had said. Let her work for it like everyone else. Besides, putting her in Spike Squadron would place her firmly in the front lines of battle. If she was in a lower-ranking squad she could still be happy flying but safely out of harm's way...
At least that was the argument that had persuaded Jag then. After seeing the hurt in her eyes he wasn't so sure he had done the best thing by her. But what did it matter now anyway? She had so brazenly shrugged off his affection in an attempt to gain access to high security files. And now she was gone, so what did it matter?
If it didn't matter, then why did he feel as if he needed to vomit? Like he was slowly dying inside?
"Jag?"
He looked up to see his mother coming from the kitchen. She had left the room as soon as the fight had begun, granting them both privacy. "It got quiet all of a sudden. I had started to worry." The way she looked around, he was sure her worry had not yet abated. "Where's Jaina?" she asked, trying to appear aloof.
"She left," he stated simply with a flick of his hand.
Syal frowned. "She got a hovertaxi here already?"
"She didn't bring a speeder?"
Syal shook her head.
"She must have taken yours," Jag sighed, not really caring how she had done it, just that she had gone.
"Ours?" Syal squeaked.
"It's okay," Jag said, trying to brush off her concern. "She may have stolen files, but I don't think she's going to steal your speeder."
Syal looked frantic. "No, Jag, you don't understand—"
"Really," Jag interrupted again. "It's fine. I know Dad likes to pamper it, but I'm sure—"
"Jagged Fel!" Syal snapped, drawing him to a halt. "Will you be quiet for one moment and listen to me?"
Jag gestured exaggeratedly for her to proceed.
"That speeder had a servomotor leak. Cem just hasn't had time to fix it yet. That thing won't make it five kilometers!"
Numbers started to scroll behind Jag's eyes. It was about ten kilometers from the city, and if it broke down half way there she would be stranded in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard the size of which Csilla hadn't seen in years with a dead speeder that wouldn't even provide heat...
Jag stood abruptly, any anger he had formerly had transforming itself rapidly into fear. He ran for the door, grabbed a parka and ran outside into the snow. "Jag!" his mother called from the doorway. He wasn't listening. The only sound was the beating of his heart in his ears. He couldn't let her die.
He couldn't let her die...
Jaina cried as she drove, huge hiccuping sobs escaping her throat until it burned. Tears blurred her vision and streamed down her face, making the already minimal visibility even worse. Every aspect of her screamed in torturous spasms, unable to bear up under the final assault.
She wanted to die.
It wasn't the same hopelessness that had assailed her on her wedding night, the feeling of pointlessness to a life so worthless. Instead it was a white hot agony stabbing repeatedly into her soul, turning her emotional torment into a physical ache. She wanted to die to stop the pain.
Jaina wasn't sure why she loved him, especially now. Even before she had discovered his knavery she realized that it wasn't because of time getting to know each other, months of any sort of flirtation or affection. She had recognized her love for Jag in a moment of fear, fear of losing him. She thought it all chalked up to the theory of soul mates. She wasn't sure if she believed in that, but she knew that there was no other explanation for her love. She had loved him since she had first laid eyes on him, even though she hadn't realized it then. She had been too distracted by her turmoil. It was a spark, she decided finally, an emotion that she couldn't control, couldn't latch on to any certain person. She had no control over it. Just being in the same room with him made her feel like no other man ever had. It was like the moment she had been born the Force had determined how she would feel about him.
Another sob overcame her, but ended in a fit of coughing. She must have let her foot off the throttle when she was coughing, because as she looked back up into the whirling bank of snow it seemed like she was hardly moving. A few moments of applied pressure to her accelerator confirmed that she was, in fact, sitting completely still. And the speeder wouldn't move.
She scanned the controls warily, watching system after system fail. Cursing, she flung open the door and jumped outside. The wind almost flattened her to the ground, and she had to hold on to the side of the speeder to keep from being knocked onto her face. She drug her way to the nose of the craft, then popped the control plate. Frustration gripped her in a vice as she saw the thumb-sized hole the servomotor. Letting a string of expletives that would have shamed even the raunchiest of space pirates fly into the wind, she slammed the panel shut and dragged her way back to the door. It took the Force to help her open it, and the wind shut it so quickly it almost caught her heel as she entered.
Jaina just sat for a minute, staring blankly ahead and pondering the irony of her predicament. Finally she sighed and rammed the heel of her hand into her eyes, crushing away the last of her tears. Wiping away the last vestiges, she crawled into the backseat. She could lay down there, perhaps put herself into a hibernation trance.
But what good would it do? The way the snow was flying, her speeder would be completely engulfed in two hours. There would be no trace of her. She wouldn't even be able to claw her way out, then; the top layer would be frozen over. She could always use her lightsaber to melt her way through, but there was no way she could hike the five to seven kilometers back to Jag's parents' house. Even in the summer months the average temperatures were twenty below. She wasn't geared for such a trek, and even the Force wouldn't sustain her in such conditions.
Realizing she was out of options, she lay down on the seat and curled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her knees. This wasn't exactly the way she had wanted to die, but you take what you can get. The old Jaina would have fought, would have given everything she had to survive. But the new Jaina, the Jaina who had been ripped asunder by too many forces to pinpoint a specific perpetrator didn't really care. All she could do was wait. Either she would be rescued, or she would freeze to death.
Either way. What did it really matter?