Chapter 22

It was cold, the air from the sea whipping the snow in whirling patterns before letting the fat flakes settle onto the moisture saturated sand and rock. The ocean itself was angry, crashing vociferous waves onto the beach, foam lapping at the dunes. The water washed over some of the closer snow-covered sand, its icy temperatures blending with the wintry mix until a thin layer of ice formed in patches, giving parts of the shore a glassy smoothness. Farther away from the waterline the snow accumulated, leaving a fluffy down on the dunes.

Jaina knelt in the sand, scooping up a handful and standing. The snow lay atop the soil, and the combination looked to her much like a the hot chocolate mix her Uncle Lando used to fix, with marshmallows on top. She turned and smiled, extending her hand for examination. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Jag nodded, though not with the zeal she exhibited for the act of nature. "Lovely."

Jaina rolled her eyes and dumped the handful back on the ground, then wiped her hand on her trousers. "It is beautiful, and you know it."

Jag smiled and linked her arm through his, then continued their walk down the beach. "I suppose; I guess it's just because everything pales compared to you."

Jaina laughed and rolled her eyes again, but couldn't stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. "How long have you been waiting for an opportunity to use that one?"

Jag smiled. "Only a few days," he said sardonically. Despite the fact that the comment had been made in jest, Jaina knew he wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it. So she leaned a little closer against his side and looped her arm around his waist.

Anmicgra was the newest target of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. The Vong had arrived on the edge of the system a short two days before, and Jaina and Jag had been sent to scout the planet for strategic areas to station troops. That had been completed quickly, and so the pair had taken advantage of the few short hours before the attack to be alone. Seeing as the rest of their crew—composed primarily of stormtroopers—were unloading weaponry in preparation, Jaina and Jag had slipped away, away to this beach. They probably had less than an hour and a half, but that was all they needed.

They had been with the Remnant for two months now, after being exuberantly accepted into the Navy. Jag's rank had remained the same, and Jaina had been made a lieutenant. Her station, however, was officially unofficial. She—as well as he—wielded power equal to that of a general. Their commands, strategy-wise anyway, were second only to Pellaeon. It was a marvelous setup, one that they could only be grateful for. But they found themselves much busier than they had ever been, planning and training and and simming for sometimes over eighteen hours straight. The remaining hours were mostly spent in exhaustion-induced sleep, leaving little to no time for each other.

Even so, Jaina was happier than she had ever been. She was in the process of forming her own TIE squadron, was fulfilling her Jedi dream by defending the helpless, and most importantly could remain always at Jag's side. She was fulfilled in ways she had never thought possible. Her existence was complete.

Well, almost. She missed her family, mostly because she knew she would never be allowed back on Coruscant. Jag had sent his resignation to the Ascendancy, who had then in turn accused the New Republic of breaking the contract by convincing them to live on Coruscant. Leia had replied that the last time she had seen them the young couple had been returning to Csilla. They weren't in the Republic.

For possibly a full week their whereabouts had been a mystery, until a holojournalist with a tabloid had gotten wind of their presence in the Remnant. They had finally caught a holo of the two on Yaga Minor, and their pictures had been plastered all over newsstands across the galaxy. Jaina could only imagine her mother's face, and the thought of her outrage pleased her as much as anything.

The separation was slightly harder on Jag, even though he pretended it wasn't. His mother had not borne the news well. She had begged him to return before it was to late, and her pleadings had worn heavily on Jag. Jaina felt for him, but she knew her pity was unwanted, so she kept it to herself. He would make peace with it, if he hadn't already. They were still just in the adjustment period.

It was strange, being on their own. Jag hadn't lived with his parents for a few years, but had always lived with the burden of their wishes. They were both free now, taking orders only from Pellaeon. Jaina had found a liking for the aging Imperial. He was fair in his judgments, quick in his decisions, and easy in his forgiveness. He was a good leader, and where his military genius ended his upright morals picked up. Perhaps he wasn't the greatest strategian that ever lived, but his equitable nature made up for the difference. That and the fact that Jaina and Jag were there to help in battle made the scale even more balanced.

The snow picked up, but the wind quieted to where there wasn't a whisper of a sound, only the falling snowflakes. They stopped and just stood in the downpour, up to their ankles in the wetness. Jag wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head lightly. "This reminds me of home."

Jaina felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was the reason for his loss. Even if he had made the choice, it had been her act that had resulted in her exile. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't of had to make the choice in the first place. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be. I would give it up a thousand times over just to be here with you."

She looked up, and his green eyes shimmered in the cold. Or maybe it wasn't the cold...

He captured her in his kiss, dragging her into his embrace. She opened her mouth to him, felt him steal her breath as their tongues engaged in a passionate dance. But the moment was all too short, their solitude rudely interrupted by the insistent beeping of one of their comlinks. They both pulled away hastily, feeling like children caught with their hand in the cookie jar. These moments just keep getting rarer, Jaina thought as she fumbled for the small metal cylinder. In the end it was Jag's that was ringing. "Fel," he answered, still breathless from their interlude.

"Colonel, I was afraid they had lost you," Grand Admiral Pellaeon smirked from the Chimaera. "Decided to take a brief respite, did we?"

Jag tossed Jaina glance before replying. "Just checking the outskirts for any noteworthy details, anything we might have missed."

"Of course," Pellaeon said, his voice indicating he knew the truth of the matter very well. "Can I trust that Lieutenant Solo-Fel is accompanying you?"

"She is," Jag said blandly.

"Can I also trust that the two of you will be at the shuttle on schedule?"

Jag pressed his lips into a thin line and double-clicked for confirmation.

"Good, I expected nothing less. I will see you both at the meeting in an hour then."

It wasn't a question. "Yes, Sir," Jag replied stiffly, then clicked off the connection. He gave Jaina an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. We need to get going."

Jaina nodded sadly. Rarer and rarer. "Then let's go."

Jaina took a seat at the conference table, sinking gratefully into the plushness. She had enjoyed their brief leisure time, but it had in reality only added to her fatigue. The half-hour or so she would spend in that chair would be greatly appreciated. Jag moved to take a seat beside her, but Pellaeon motioned him down to the farther end. Jaina smiled encouragingly for him to go on, and he went.

That was another of the few drawbacks of their situation. Pellaeon could not have very well taken a Colonel and someone with no military experience and make them generals and justify it. Even though everyone knew it would be in their best interest to heed their advice, not many did it without resentment. To reduce this ill will Pellaeon kept them to their respective stations at such public gatherings.

That really didn't bother Jaina. She didn't have to be recognized. She just wanted to do her job. She watched Jag walk the length of the table, salute the Admiral, and listen intently as he spoke in quiet tones. Curious, she toyed with the idea of increasing her hearing to see what he said, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear every intimate detail all the others in the room said. Besides, Jag would tell her when he returned.

"Lieutenant," a voice said behind her. Jaina smiled at the sound then turned and extended her hand.

"Commander," she returned.

Elkanah Eliab gestured to a seat beside her. "May I?"

"Of course." Eliab had been a good friend of Jag's, and one of his most spirited students when he had first arrived in the Remnant. He was friendly and amiable, and had gotten along nicely with Jaina as well as Jag. He had been most helpful in instructing her in how to fly a TIE, too. Good enough to beat himself in sims. "So, do you have any inclinations as to how this whole thing is going to play out?"

He shook his head. "If you don't, you can hardly expect me to. But if you're asking who I think will win? I think we can, but whether we will is another matter entirely."

Jaina pursed her lips. "We've made definite progress. But we still know so little. Only experience can help us now."

Eliab started to reply, then stopped and thrust his hand out exuberantly as Jag appeared behind her chair. Jag shook it and said, "Eliab, I didn't know you were still on the Chimaera. I thought they had sent you off to Bastion to help all those green pilots fresh from the Academy."

Eliab shrugged. "That was before the Vong showed up in system. Said they couldn't spare any cruisers."

"What did the Admiral want?" Jaina interjected as Jag took the seat on her other side.

"I'll tell you after the battle," he said simply.

Jaina narrowed her eyes. "Why? Everyone's not here yet, we have time—"

"Jaina," he said, his eyes pleading, "just let Pellaeon tell you in his own time. Please. Besides, I'm not exactly sure what he meant anyway. I would hate to tell you something and it turn out to be wrong."

Jaina wasn't happy with the answer, but held her tongue. If he didn't want to tell her, then she probably didn't want to know anyway.

When everyone was in place, Pellaeon stood, a tacit call for silence. They all quited, and he began without introduction. "The Yuuzhan Vong have been amassing a fleet on the edge of the starsystem for the past three days. The activity has finally ceased, so we know that the siege shall soon commence. Their objectives, no doubt, will be to decimate this armada and to overrun Anmicgra. To lose another system will be disastrous. We cannot and will not lose this battle."

With that said he paused, eyeing each of them in turn. His gaze swept across the crowded room, touching them each. Jaina nodded solemnly as his stare passed over her, acknowledging his look and encouraging his address. She wasn't sure, but he might have nodded oh so imperceptibly in turn. "To do this, our plan of battle will consist of three different facets. Offense, defense, and ground security. Colonel Fel, you will be given charge of TIE squadrons, and their leaders will report directly to you." Jag nodded in acceptance. "Other details will be outlined in the datacards being passed out to you." As he spoke a group of aides moved along both sides of the table, passing out the said datacards. But as they passed they moved over Jaina, giving both Eliab and Jag one but not her. She would have chalked it up to bigotry, but she had encountered none as of yet. She looked at Jag questioningly, and he shrugged then offered to let her read off of his. She waved his offer off and raised her hand into the air, petitioning for the Admiral's attention. He nodded to her, a sign that she should proceed.

"I did not receive a datacard with my orders," she stated simply.

"That is because you will not be taking part in the naval attack. You, Jedi Solo-Fel," he called her Jedi, she knew, to draw attention away from her rank, "will lead our ground forces."

"Ground forces?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I'm not credentialed in that area."

"But you have the skills necessary, and as a Jedi could be much more effective there."

Jaina bristled at the remark. "I can fly just as well as I can wield a lightsaber."

Pellaeon might have smiled slightly, but she couldn't tell. "I am well aware of that fact. But the point, Lieutenant," this time to emphasize her rank was lesser than his own, "is that a Jedi with a lightsaber can take out potentially twice as many enemies as one in a TIE. Your presence on Anmicgra could help us maintain the upper hand there."

Jaina wanted to continue to argue her point, but she felt Jag's hand on her forearm underneath the table, reminding her where she was and who she was. So instead she answered with a simple, "Yes, Sir."

One advantage to leading five brigades of stormtroopers was that they took orders unquestioningly. They didn't second guess or worry for their own personal safety. What Jaina said went; no questions. And they were startlingly efficient at what they did.

Precision was key for them, and Jaina reveled in the confidence and exact concentration the men in her drop ship were emitting. They came with the intention of victory. Anything less was unacceptable.

The ship had managed to weave its way through the already commencing battle down to the planet's surface with only a few hits. Had Jaina been piloting the bulky drop ship, she wouldn't have worried. But strapped in the hold with the rest of the ground troops she found herself grinding her teeth at every hit, wincing at the noise of their escorts exploding around them.

She heard the clank as the ship settled to the surface, and she unhooked quickly and pulled open the port side hatch. Stormtoopers were already leaping the two meters to the surface, blasters in hand and firing at anything remotely Vong. Jaina depressed a button on her earpiece. "Commander Abel?"

"Roger, Ground Leader."

"Have your men form a half-circle perimeter around the Vong landing sight. Heavy artillery in the back, except for the grenade launchers; put those up front."

"Roger, Ground Leader. Will I be receiving further orders from you in this manner, or do I proceed as I see fit?"

It would be hard for her to command a battle from her current position, and even harder to delay the attack long enough for the drop ship to carry her to the already forming front lines. Determined, Jaina pressed the earpiece again. "Negative. Give me five minutes. If I'm not there by then, commence bombardment."

"Roger."

Jaina lept gracefully from the ship's interior, and sunk up to her knees in the mud. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Jaina crouch and then jumped, using the Force to augment her strength and carrying her five meters into the air. She flipped as she soared, rolling her left shoulder to the right. As expected, her left arm caught the branch of a tree, jarring her arm. She ignored the pain and used her momentum to swing under and around the spindly branch. She landed smoothly on the top of the limb, and just sat for a moment, taking in her options.

Deciding the best coarse of action, Jaina stood carefully on the branch, using the Force to increase her equilibrium. Then, slowly at first, she began to run. When she came to the end of a branch she would simply spring to the nearest tree, until she was flying through the treetops, past her struggling troopers, their white armor sullied with mud.

The wind in her face was stinging, but she didn't shy from it or dare to close her eyes. She faced it head on, cutting through the canopy like a lightsaber through flimsiplast. Any non-Forcesensitive couldn't have even attempted such a trek, let alone completed it in under five minutes.

When Jaina dropped finally to the forest floor next to her second, Commander Abel looked at her in bewilderment. "Ground Leader," he snapped a sharp salute.

"At ease," she panted, unable to hide her gasping breaths. Slowly she bent to rest her hands on her knees, letting her head hang in exhaustion. She spoke as she did so. "Fire...fire all heavy weaponry on my mark."

Abel commed the instructions to the other four brigade leaders making up Jaina's fighting force. Jaina pressed her own earpiece with fatigue, determined to give the final order herself. "Three...two...one...mark."

At her command over five thousand heavy artillery implements sent a fiery barrage of death into the Yuuzhan Vong's debarking ground forces.