Epilogue

Whisking above the cerulean waters, far from the resort island's coastline, Jaina remembered what it meant to be free. The wind whipped her hair out of its restrictive band. Salt water splattered her face. She closed her eyes and buried her cheek into Jag's back. At their breakneck speed, it was probably better she didn't look. Instead she reached for him in the Force, the connection almost instantaneous.

The grim, determined persona he usually projected didn't exist. No fear of an impending attack, no forethought toward an upcoming meeting, only a deep-seated sense of fulfillment. Jag was truly happy.

Perhaps it was a rare moment of flying. The speeder bike certainly wasn't his old clawcraft, capable of pushing a man to the limits of his physical abilities. But the open-aired ride over the ocean sure got the heart racing and the senses heightened. Thrill like this was a pilot's lifeblood. The fact that Jag had given up commanding a squadron saddened Jaina. Still, she had never heard a complaint or woeful words of disappointment, not once. Somehow, she knew – no, felt – that even without his squadron, Jag had everything he had ever wanted.

Jag was a goal-oriented man, which created a strange dichotomy between the part of him that forsook personal ambition and the man who only cared who he did it with. Only recently, in her long weeks of healing, had Jaina come to truly understand that being with her had been the objective all along, not a career or position. And he had persisted until the objective had been attained, even when that meant years without position or rank, a commander without command, until the day the reins of the Empire had been handed over to him without warning. At first it had seemed like a cruel twist of fate, but then somehow the bonds of duty had been cut. What lay ahead now was infinite possibilities, a future they could define together.

She wondered idly what new objectives he would lay out in his life. No, their life. Whatever they might turn out to be, Jaina knew they would be for the betterment of the galaxy. That's just what good men did.

Her eyes still shut, she thought of her brother and realized he had come to her exactly when she had needed him. The Empire or the GA, peace or war, for better or for worse – she was not alone. Whatever Jag wanted for the future, she would want it too. And they would fight for it together.

"Hold on," he said, his voice vibrating through the ripples of wind.

Not that he gave her time to react as the speeder slewed sideways, shedding speed at a breathtaking rate. Fortunately her Jedi reflexes were quick enough, and though she could have balanced on her own, it was easier to fight momentum by clutching tighter to Jag. As the speeder bike slowed to an idle, Jaina lifted her head to study their destination.

To their port, not more than a meter away, a small pleasure skiff bobbed in the water. The pilot rolled the steering yoke and feathered the thrusters, guiding it alongside. Their uncle, Wedge Antilles, leaned over the side to clamp a tether on the speeder bike.

"Nice move, ace, but I would have gotten it closer," the black-haired pilot said as Jaina clambered into the skiff.

Jag hopped down beside her. "You still owe me a sim, Janson. We'll see who betters who in a one-on-one."

Wedge slapped Jag on the shoulder. "Isn't going to happen, kid. Janson's afraid. Very afraid." Years ago on Borleias, Janson had unwittingly hit on Jaina. A couple days later he had been asked to spar by one Jagged Fel, who had wanted to make clear Jaina Solo was off limits. The crushing defeat by the young colonel had bruised Janson's pride and resulted in an unending barrage of taunts and mockery between the Hawkbats' leader and Twins Suns Three. Finally fed up with the macho display, Jaina had ordered both men to the simulators. Janson hadn't shown.

"I was flying a hop." Janson flapped his hand in his former commander's direction. "Tell them, Wedge."

The aging Corellian snorted. "You asked for that hop specifically. Name the time and the place, and I'll arrange it for you two personally."

"Actually, I have an idea which might bring this terrible feud to a close." Jag's green eyes had darkened, which typically suggested he was plotting something. "But I'd rather discuss it with Janson man-to-man."

Jaina stepped back, allowing her husband to pass toward the pilot's deck. Turning away to leave the men to their scheming, she helped her uncle secure the speeder to the skiff. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."

Wedge chuckled. "You're probably right."

The speeder secure, she pivoted and leaned against the skiff's side. "So I guess you got caught up in one more day of my drama. I'll do my best to be cooperative in the debrief so we can all be on our way."

"No debrief. I'm here strictly as family."

Jaina shook her head. That wasn't possible. This was the Empire, and even the GA had procedures. "How can that be?"

Wedge shrugged. "Jag and I met with Soontir this morning. Your husband argued that the information provided last night, along with what was collected in our earlier investigation, would suffice."

"And Soontir accepted that?"

"Not initially. But I have to hand it to my nephew. He can be quite persistent, and underhanded. Fel is no match for an Antilles, never has been." Wedge glanced over to where Jag and Janson were speaking in hushed tones. "And Jagged is Antilles through and through."

"Good thing, then. I'm certainly not going to complain. If he somehow finagled a free pass on this whole Korde debacle…" She watched Jag shake Janson's hand. Devious like an Antilles… "Hey! What exactly are you shaking to?"

Both men turned her way, their hands falling quickly to their sides. "Terms," Jag offered first.

"Yeah. Terms," Janson agreed.

Jaina's eyebrow arched. "Terms for what?"

Just then, Jag's comlink chimed. He looked somewhat bemused as he raised the device to his mouth. "Transfer complete. ISS cleared of obligation."

"Clear skies, little brother," Cem's voice replied. "ISS out."

Her brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Jag said, pocketing the comlink, "from this moment, we've got one week completely to ourselves."

Jaina looked over to Wedge. "The Grand Moff surely can't be happy."

For his part, Janson pumped his fist into the air. "Another Fel gone Rogue."

Casting the man a pointed stare, Jag tapped on his wristchrono. "Let's stick to the timeline, gentlemen, before the Grand Moff exercises his prerogative to change his mind."

Wedge tipped his head in understanding. "Janson, you're sure you've got this?"

Janson tossed a jaunty salute. "Clear, and ready for liftoff."

"You were a beautiful bride." Her uncle pecked Jaina on the cheek, then tugged his approaching nephew into a hug worthy of a Wookiee. "Good luck, son."

Jag thumped his uncle on the back. "Luck doesn't factor into the equation."

Then Wedge sped off on the speeder bike, and the skiff raced away from the main island. As the berthing terminal loomed ahead, Jag wrapped his arm around Jaina.

"So you don't mind if we just dash away?"

"And ruin the Empire's final public relations stunt?" Neither of them would miss the pomp and circumstance. It was the goodbyes to family and friends that wore on her heart.

"What if I promise we'll see your parents at the end of the week?" he asked expectantly.

Jaina could live with that. "And yours?"

"In short order, as well."

"In that case, I think whatever you have planned will be great."

"It's settled, then."

The skiff roared up to a side entrance at the berthing terminal. Jag left Jaina's side to secure the vessel to the dock. Janson powered down the engines and followed the couple as they climbed out. Whistling the Rogue Squadron anthem, he passed the pair and slid an identichip into the reader just to the right of the personnel door.

"A kiss for the driver?"

"I dunno…"

Jag grabbed the door, swinging it open. "Go ahead. He's harmless."

Smiling, Jaina rose up on her toes, bestowing a light peck on Janson's cheek. The veteran pilot blushed before turning to face Jag. Janson stuck out his hand. "I almost feel guilty now."

Despite his inscrutable expression, Jag exuded a victorious vibe as he shook the other man's hand. "I don't."

"What –" Her question went unasked as Jag tugged Jaina through the door. She resisted, her feet treading against the polished floor.

Abruptly he scooped her into his arms, and Jaina felt the crush of his lips. Her query was forgotten. Her arms snaked around his neck, her mouth reveling in the taste of unbridled passion.

Just as quickly, Jag deposited her back where she had been. Jaina blinked up at him breathlessly; he snatched her hand. "Time enough for that. Later."

Hand in hand, the newlyweds strode briskly through the berthing terminal's wide corridor. Her fingers intertwined with Jag's, Jaina found herself continually noticing the odd cold sensation that hadn't been there before. Cold, smooth. Metallic.

His ring.

Jaina smiled. Finally. It was finally, truly done. They were married, and going on their honeymoon alone.

A gentle but firm tug drew her to the side. She blinked, and realized Jag had taken an unexpected turn off the main corridor. In the direction of –

"Uh, Jag?"

He glanced down. "Yes?"

"The Falcon is this way."

"Correct."

"I thought we weren't going to say goodbye to my parents."

"Not until next week."

"Then why –"

"To fly her away from here, of course."

"But –"

He quickened his strides, tugging her along. "You object to your father's ship?"

"Of course not. But –"

"Here we are," he said, leading her inside the docking bay. He released her hand and continued on while she stopped in place and appraised the Falcon bow to stern. Even though she wanted to scowl at Jag for his evasive answers, she couldn't help but grin at the sight of the familiar old freighter. Truth be told, she couldn't think of a starship she'd rather fly for her honeymoon. Still, wasn't the –

"Planning to join me?"

She shook off her reverie. "Right."

Bounding ahead, she joined him at the base of the boarding ramp. Without a word he reached out and pulled her into his arms. For a long moment he held her there, and she nestled herself into him. Then she tipped her head back, gazing up into his sparkling eyes.

His hand came up, the backs of his fingers softly caressing her cheek. Jag leaned down, lowering his lips to hers.

The kiss was tender, lingering as their lips danced and their tongues slowly swirled.

Jaina whimpered.

Jag chuckled, and pulled his lips away. "Let's get out of here."

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes, Jaina giggled. "Sounds good."

Taking his hand, her fingers rubbing across the edges of his ring, she led him toward the front of the ship. Halfway there, she remembered.

"Wait a second."

"What?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "When did my dad have time to make the repairs?"

"What repairs?"

"The forward port repulsor. How are we going to –"

That oddly victorious aura oozed from Jag's pores again.

Her footfalls stuttered to a full stop, and she spun, glaring. "What's got you so cocky?"

"I'm on my honeymoon."

That may well have been true, but Jaina decided she needed to make sure she was the one in charge here. She threw her chin up, her hands propped on her hips. "My dad said –"

"Your father," he said, shaking his finger in a disturbingly accurate imitation of Han Solo, "is an incredibly well-practiced liar."

She stomped her foot. "You had this planned all along!"

"Guilty as charged."

She swatted him for good measure. "And who else was a member of this extensive conspiracy of yours?"

He put on a mock ponderous expression. "They are shielded by executive privilege."

She scowled. "Is this the way of the Empire, then?"

"When dealing with a Rebel princess, it's a necessity."

"You're going to pay for this."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Severely?"

"Most definitely."

He grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"You would."

"So. Are we going to stand here, or are we going to fly this ship?"

"I'm going to fly this ship," she said. "You're just along for the ride."

"I like the sound of that, too."

"You, Jagged Fel," she said, shaking her head, "are utterly incorrigible."

"Don't even pretend you don't love every second of it."

She spun on her heel, and marched toward the cockpit. "I didn't say that."

Arriving at the bow, she ducked through the narrow portal and slid into the pilot's seat. A moment later, Jag deposited himself in the co-pilot's chair opposite her. With practiced ease they ran through the preflight checklist, and within minutes Jaina guided the Falcon out of the berthing terminal and into the bright Maramere sky.

"Jag?"

"Yes?"

"You're sure the ship is fixed?"

"Well, I don't think your father was lying about that."

"Let's hope not."

Jag reached over and put a hand atop hers. "Hey, think of all the fun we had restoring the Blue Flame these past few weeks. I can think of a lot of worse things we could do on our honeymoon than make emergency repairs to the Falcon."

Jaina smiled. "You know what? You're absolutely right."

"I've been known to be." He flashed that little smirk again. "Occasionally. Although there are a lot better things we could do on our honeymoon."

She was inclined to agree, but between the prospect of those better things and the newlyweds stood Maramere flight control, which was now squawking in her ear. "Uh, Jag? I have to tell them something."

He dropped a datachip into the navcomputer and tapped in a few codes. "Relayed."

She scanned the feed on the pilot's heads-up display. "Pirate's Peril on the way to Puranir? Where you do come up with this stuff?"

"It's perfectly acceptable."

Nudging the Falcon through a graceful spiral away from the system, Jaina tried and failed to not roll her eyes. "If you want to sound like an Imperial cover."

He stared into the transparisteel, locking gazes in their reflections. "As always, I am your humble servant in the ways of the Rebels."

Their eyes didn't break contact even as the swirls of hyperspace erupted before them. There was an unmistakable glint of undying love, but beyond that, she recognized a new hint of burden that had bubbled to the surface. She unbuckled her restraints, kneeling before him. Jaina took his hands. "What is it?"

He inhaled slowly, then gently kissed the knuckles of each hand while finding a way to form his thoughts. "I'm afraid I'm… too happy."

Her eyes glistened. She knew that fear better than most. They had fought so hard, had known too many brethren who would never know even a hint of this type of joy. In that moment, Jaina recognized Jag truly was her soulmate. She buried her cheek in his lap.

Stroking her hair, he whispered, "You have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't ever sacrifice your life so that I may live." His hand ran through her hair and came to rest on her back. "I couldn't live without you. Not again."

She lifted her head up. "Jag –"

A finger to her lips silenced the rest. "Promise."

Her gut told her to argue. But she could see the Fel determination hardening his expression. "Okay. I promise."

He exhaled, his expression shifting again to grim Imperial realist. "Obviously we're without the ISS escort you probably expected. Well, I brokered a deal with my father. Except for occasional special events where necessity requires it, you will be free to move about without the limitations of an assigned attachment."

Jaina stammered. "I – I don't know what to say."

"You haven't heard the rest."

Her mouth clicked shut, and she nodded mutely.

"In deference to my position, under most circumstances I will have a guard detail –"

"A couple ISS –"

"– to be selected and, if you agree, trained by you." Jag hesitated, just for a second. "My father is even open to the possibility of Noghri."

"So far, so good."

"There's a catch."

"This is your father we're talking about."

"It's not entirely his idea."

"All right." Slipping back so she sat on her haunches, Jaina sucked in her breath. "Just cut to the power cables."

"Our children will have a full guard detail at all times, from the start."

"Children?" She started to giggle. "You haven't even gotten me to the bed yet."

"I did a fairly respectable job last night," he said in his trying to not sound annoyed voice before reverting to the unyielding negotiator. "Do we have a deal?"

She felt the strain of kneeling on her joints as she stood. "I don't see why we have to discuss this now. It's not like we don't have, oh, the rest of our lives to work these details out."

"I realize that you, being Jaina Solo Fel, prefer to act on the fly and render such discussions moot. And if they are required, let them fall the way of heroic rescues and other momentous events of high stakes drama."

"You make me sound so… irresponsible." Jaina really wanted to be offended, but unfortunately her husband had a fair point.

The scarred brow lifted slightly. "I accept that you might prefer to table this discussion in order to consider my proposal. In the meantime, I did promise your father that I would check the starboard flux regulator. This is as good a time as any to honor it."

Her mouth agape, Jaina watched him exit the cockpit. Typically she would be inclined to enjoy the view. Her honeymoon expectations already askew, though, she stomped after him, full of miff not pleasure at seeing his backside. She caught him in the intersecting service shafts, where he stood dutifully inspecting a secondary computer display while humming the same melody Janson had whistled on the skiff.

"Are your intentions," she demanded, "to withhold privileges until such time as I do deign to discuss your terms?"

"I believe…" The air fell silent save the familiar hum of the hyperdrive engines. Jag tapped a few quick strokes at the console, then continued. "I have proven to be a very patient man where you are concerned."

Patient and determined, Jaina thought. "Why now?"

"Because," he replied, turning slowly to face her, "I have a tactical advantage."

"My freedom?"

"No."

A scream boiled up in Jaina's throat. This wasn't Fel doggedness, it was just underhanded Antilles tactics. Worse yet, he just stood there, proud and arrogant and so utterly handsome she wanted to pounce on him. Pounce on him and kiss those stupid humming lips –

Hold on. Humming Janson's song, the Rogue anthem. Connections rapidly clicked together in her head. Soontir. Wedge. Janson. Rogues!

Jag smirked. "You still want to win that bet?"

"Who told you?" It had to be Soontir; he wasn't really a Rogue through and through. His loyalties had always been to his family.

"Not my father."

Janson! "Why that dirty, conniving, double-crossing skirt chaser. When I get my hands on him." She pounded her fist on the bulkhead. Prowling the corridor, she considered her options – and quickly decided that hanging him upside down in a Force grip over the Druscowal Rift during flitnat breeding season sounded about right.

His brows furrowed. "I hope you won't be too hard on my uncle."

"What?" After everything Wedge had done this week, the idea of his betrayal of a confidence was almost unimaginable.

"How much did it cost you?"

"A case of the family reserve of Whyren's and two TIE trainers."

She whistled. "Wow. I guess you really wanted to know."

"I have to admit my curiosity was piqued last night. Mostly because I know how much you hate to lose."

Jaina snorted. "Don't get your hopes up. I can't not participate in stuff like that. So I just shut my eyes and pointed at a spot on the calendar."

Jag blanched. For once in his life, he actually looked nervous. She stepped forward and rubbed his arm. "Don't worry. It wasn't too much money."

"It's not the money I'm worried about." He shook his head slightly, like he was trying to remove the fog of a stunbolt. "Aren't you Jedi always spouting mantras about trusting the Force?"

Her hand fell. Quite possibly, he had another valid point. At the time, it had felt like a good-spirited joke at her expense. But what if this was a sign? Obviously things were happening quickly in her life, and the Force had blessed her with a sign of affirmation earlier that morning in allowing her brother Anakin to visit. It was another thing entirely, though, to be ready for the responsibility of a family. There were important things left to be done. Both she and Jag had committed to building a goodwill mission on the Empire's behalf. Her father-in-law had apparently tasked Jaina with Jag's security…

Concern niggled at the edges of her perceptions. Jacen had become a parent quite unexpectedly himself, and he hadn't dealt with the stress of being a father very well. Being around Allana had stirred new types of protective emotions in Jaina, too. Perhaps it was better to be prepared? The idea of getting cornered into a decision, though, didn't sit well. It was not a good way to start their marriage.

"So say we have Jedi children," she posed.

"They would be Skywalker heirs to the Empire's seat of power."

"Why do I feel like some Imperial womb of destiny all of a sudden?"

"Listen, I'd be happy if our child had no bigger aspirations that to operate carnival rides at Motimouse World, but reality won't work that way." He swept her hand up in his. "I didn't plan on discussing this at this point in our lives, but with the bet it all became very real to me quite suddenly. Admittedly, we've not been trying to have a baby, but we haven't exactly been trying to avoid that possibility since our engagement, either. So yes, I just finished effectively bartering with my father to ensure your freedom, and wound up terrified for our imaginary child born on a randomly chosen date in the not-so-distant future."

Jaina chewed on her lip. The random date in question didn't leave a whole lot of leeway…

"Deal," she said.

"You're sure?"

"Actually, yes I am." Jaina had been prepared to accept a guard detail for herself without protest, if that had been expected of her role within the Fel family. A long time ago, huddled in a shared bunk on Borleias, she had relayed to Jag the loneliness of her life hidden away as a child. On that day, Jaina had sworn her own children would not be isolated in such a way. So if she would have been willing to accept bodyguards for herself, how could she refuse it for them? Especially if it meant keeping them close by their parents, where they belonged. "As you say, I'm the spontaneous one; you're the big picture guy. Besides, if I argue with you and something were to happen… I couldn't live with the guilt."

"Thank you." Placing one hand on each of her cheeks, he brushed his lips against her forehead. His breath teased her skin. "I don't think I had the patience to outlast you, to be honest."

He nuzzled her brow, hands sliding down to her shoulders, fingertips feathering along her sides and down to her waist. He nudged her around, dragging his mouth across her ear, kissing the lobe, licking her neck. Somehow she had started walking, compelled by the singular desire running through her husband's veins. Moving in time with her, his palms slid up her back, his fingers kneading the tense muscles on either side of her spine.

Jaina practically purred, and a familiar song rumbled in the back of her throat – the Rogue Squadron anthem. It was hard to imagine such a simple choice would lead her to meeting the most important squadron mate of her life. From the framework of that brotherhood, she had built a new squadron and learned to love Jag Fel in the process. She owed them a debt of gratitude –

Her feet stopped so suddenly her husband practically bounced off her. "Why the Rogue anthem?"

"Hmmm?" Jag swept her hair aside and sucked on her neck.

Steeling her traitorous knees against buckling, she pivoted away. "Jag. Answer my question."

Looking every inch like a guilty boy caught with his finger in the rhyscate batter, he slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew a patch she recognized immediately.

"Janson gave you a Rogue Squadron patch! But those are just for –"

"Honorary, or otherwise."

"So what else do I need to know about your scheming with my former squadmates?"

"Why do we have to discuss this now?"

Jaina grinned. "Because I have the tactical advantage."

"Privileges?"

"Absolutely, flyboy."

He shrugged. "It was nothing, really. Janson wanted my sister's room number. So I gave it to him."

Her arms shot out and shoved Jag away. "Seriously. You traded honorary membership in Rogue Squadron so Janson could hit on your sister."

"Truth be told, I just want dibs on future bets."

Scowling, Jaina crossed her arms.

"Seriously. Janson had no chance with her, and she's more than capable of taking care of herself. So what's the risk?"

Jaina fought the grin pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I guess if he's brave enough to ask, knowing who her brother is."

"My point, exactly." He stretched out and gently uncrossed her arms. "Now, can we forego the stalling tactics?"

"Who's stalling?"

He didn't answer. There was nothing left to say. Jag moved past her, leading the way toward the captain's quarters. He paused at the door, settling her frame comfortably against his. Jaina peered up at him, wondering if she should admit to the terrifying knot that was erupting in her gut.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm scared too."

"You are?"

"While the thought of perfecting my procreative techniques is quite exciting, the thought of succeeding has somehow become quite daunting."

"You don't have to worry about the bet."

"I've already written off the money."

And there it was. They were both terrified of the same thing. As he reached back to swipe the door controls, though, Jag appeared far from a man hindered by fear of his future, distant or otherwise, as he backed into the room, the hold on her hand guiding Jaina in. After a couple tentative steps, she gasped.

The floor was strewn with dozens upon dozens of flowers and petals in a multitude of hues. Her eyes followed their rainbow trail. Stumbling forward, she headed for the bed. Her fingers brushed the bedspread as she wandered to the small stand. Sitting there, carefully preserved in its Salylic containment sphere, was the Alderaanian orchid Jag had given her the night he proposed.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she started. He gave her a gentle squeeze. "You like it?"

"Oh, Jag…" Her hand at her throat had to reach up to wipe the wetness from her eyes. "It's… it's wonderful."

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'"

She rolled onto the bed of flowers, taking him with her. They ended with Jaina straddling Jag, and she leaned down to let her lips supply the affirmation. "I'm impressed."

Jag flashed her a cocky Corellian smirk. "You should be."

"Why do I think there is some complicated story behind all this?"

He shook his head. "Trust me, my love. You don't want to know."

"Oh, come on. It couldn't have been that bad."

"Two words: Threepio and Artoo."

"In that case, I think comm silence would be prudent."

In an artful imitation of a starfighter's barrelroll, Jaina whirled them around so Jag ended up on top. Like any good wingman, he followed her lead. They had nothing to fear from a future together.