Prologue: Tenupian Diary.

From the private journals of Commander Jagged Fel, CEDF. Voiceprint analysis confirms identity: audiojournal playback commencing.

First Entry:

"This is the second day since the battle above Tenupe. I still hear the thunderclap of a ship entering atmosphere every once in a while; any one of those might be on its way to rescue me. But I cannot trust in that, and so I begin this record. Pilots shot down here in the past few weeks have been difficult to recover, even when the enemy positions allowed it; I may be stranded here for as long as a few weeks, or worse, a month. Despite our technology, despite our spacefaring civilizations, we are nonetheless at the mercy of the jungle. There is a strange irony to that thought; despite all my accomplishments, the battles I have lived through and the enemies I have defeated; despite the training I have undergone, and the familiarity with enormously intricate machines, products of millennia of scientific achievement; despite all this, in these next few days or weeks I could be killed by the jungle, and my body be consumed by it's occupants. There is something frightening in the thought, something that triggers primeval fears and instincts in me. My mind rebels against the possibility that I could end up as food for some jungle creature, I who have faced down the Vong and worse.

"But I digress. It is a sign of my exhaustion that I can ramble so far away from what I had intended to say.

"My name is Jagged Fel. I am -- was a Commander in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet during the battle of Tenupe, in what I hope are the final days of the Killik Crisis. The Chiss have attempted to...well, exterminate the bugs. Slow-acting insecticide bombs were to be dropped on the bugs; I can only hope they reached their intended targets. I was assigned to protect them against all attackers. Those happened to include the love of my life and her parents, who shot me down. sound of laughter I have heard of men having problems with their mother-in-laws, but this...

"I'm not entirely sure what has happened to me in the past years. Growing up, things were simple; I served the Chiss, and I did so with honor. I flinched from no obstacle, I balked at no sacrifice. Then I met a brown-haired girl at a state function...who I fell in love with. Together we fought in a war, a war to preserve our freedom and our home galaxy. But when the war was over, and victory was achieved...

"Jaina, my adopted people, the military drive that has led me all my life, and my own sense of honor have been at war with each other since…well, since the day I met Jaina. Strange, the impact that she has had on my life. Without her, I would likely be a prominent Chiss official, cold and reasoning, dedicated solely to my career. If, of course, there were Chiss left. Tracing the thread of my life from that point on, it intersects and intertwines with many, many more. Jaina herself would almost certainly be dead; events at Borleias, or Ylesia, or Bakura, or even Coruscant might well have left her dead, life ended in a plasma bolt or thud bug, amphistaff or coufee, or even in trapped in the damaged mind of her friend Tahiri. Han and Leia Solo would be dead, as well; I probably saved his life on Hapes, and even the Solo Luck would have been hard-pressed to bring him (and the Princess who just shot me down) through that Vong ambush on the Hydian Way. Kyp Durron also owes his life to me, back on Borleias; and if those four had fallen, who else might have? For the rest of the war, anything Han and Leia Solo did would not have been done, or done differently. Anything Jaina Solo accomplished as the Trickster, any lives saved by her actions and victories, would never have happened. That alone accounts for many things, for her deeds are the stuff of legends. Jacen Solo and Luke Skywalker? How would they have fared alone against Shimrra ony Yuuzhan'tar? Might the entire war have been lost if not for my actions?

"It is a sobering thought. Had I not fallen in love with Jaina, the galaxy might now be under the shadow of the Yuuzhan Vong, and the Jedi obliterated by their hatred. If the Force has a will, and beings a destiny; perhaps mine has been fulfilled, as one of many threads that formed the picture of the victory over the Yuuzhan Vong.

"It may very well be that my destiny ended with that victory. Since then, my relationship with Jaina, my love for my duty, and my life in general have become meaningless. Honor and my stubborn Corellian nature are what keep me going, that and my love for my family, already broken by war and loss. I do hope, for their sakes, that I do not die here on this verdant, deadly planet.

"Enough of that. The point of recording this is not to talk about where I was in the past. The point is where I am now.

"The purpose of this diary is twofold; first, to provide an accurate chronicle of the events of my duration here. These things are always of interest to someone, and it is required of me by the military I serve in. Even if I do not make it out, the information will be of use to them.
"The second is to provide my family with some measure of closure. It will be unneeded, of course, if I survive: but if I do not, or my experiences here drive me mad, it will be useful to those who survive me. I hope.

"So, down to business. I have little idea where I am. I ejected from my dying clawcraft in the midst of atmospheric evasion maneuvers, while trying to protect an also-evading bomber. This and earlier combats contribute to my utter inability to discern where I am.
"I have only the contents of my flight suit and the emergency kit that is customarily attached to the ejection seat for clawcrafts. If I could locate my destroyed ship, I might be able to salvage something from it and its more complete emergency kit. In addition, the homing beacon on board might by some miracle be functional; the one in my flight suit was irreparably damaged during my evasion from Jaina Solo and her wingmate, who I presume to be the Jedi Knight Zekk. I must not think of him too much; I fear madness. I must remain calm, logical, and rational if I hope to survive. Weeks of isolation like those I am anticipating have driven stronger men than I out of their wits.
"The homing beacon in my chair is giving no signals whatsoever. Its face has been shattered, and I cannot know if it is still functioning. It is possible; but it is best not to trust to luck. It is now ensconced safely in a secured pocket of my flight suit.
"I will leave the chair here while I search for my craft, taking with me only the emergency kit and what supplies I have. I have marked its location well, for if I cannot find my craft and am forced to remain here for as long as a few weeks, I may well need the wires and springs and struts that make up the seat. Indeed, I already have entertained the thought of using the small repulsorlifts in the chair to construct some sort of transportation device.

Assets:
One blaster pistol, with powerpack bandolier.
Three vibroblades, from my flightsuit, E.K., and father.
Rations for four weeks, though they are bland and tasteless things. Even military food at the base tastes better.
Thermal, waterproof jumpsuit, with combat jacket and associated trappings.
One pilot's helmet, with short-range wireless comlink, though of course it was tuned to my clawcraft
The contents of a standard ejection-seat emergency pack, which the examiner of this diary can no doubt discern.
Water-purification tablets, enough for four weeks
Adrenaline tablets
Serviceable boots, which may do well for hiking
A lifetime of training and a mind honed by years of intensive concentration.

"I have discharged my military duty thus far; this is a fair and concise account of my situation.

"Because this record is for my family as well as my superiors, I will do my best to record my thoughts and emotions as I continue to create this chronicle. For now, I must get some sleep; but in the event that the first entry on this diary is also the last, I must say a bit more.

"To my family: I love you more than I express. We all are staid, severe, military sorts, and as such we do not always express our emotions adequately. But I do love you, and I hope that my death does not hurt you all too deeply. Wyn: always stay exactly the way you are today. Though I am sure your current love would not appreciate me saying this, follow your heart and your head equally. And try not to break too many hearts along the way. Mom: you are the rock of our family, the touchstone we all rely on, and the glue that binds us together. All five of your children loved you deeply, as would any more you had. Dad: thank you for making me the man I am today. Without your influence and decisions, I would be less of a man. You showed me that; and though I know you regret dedicating so much time and love to your career, and not enough to your family, don't worry about it. We knew you loved us.

"If I'd ever had another sibling, I would have wished him to be the insanely cheerful one that balanced out the five of us. I would have wanted him to be my comrade, my best friend. I would have wanted to laugh at the romantic scrapes he got into, and help heal the broken hearts; and I would have expected the same in return. Mom and Dad only had five children, of which only Wyn and I still live; but I still think that things were perfect the way they were. Knowing the type of kid I was, I probably would have fought incessantly with any more kids my age.

"One more thing. If you would...please see that Jaina gets a copy of this.

Jagged Fel"

VOICE ENTRY TERMINATED 18:42:39 HOURS. VOICEPRINT CONFIRMED: JAGGED FEL, CDEF

"This entry's recording has ended. Do you wish to play the next entry, 'Tenupe, day Four. Oh, kriff.' ?"