A Life Not His Own: Chapter 13

Jaina winces as the pain rolls away from her stomach, and lets out a sharp yell of excitement as the power on her ship comes back on. She starts flicking switches, and shunts power to her shields and other systems.

“Great going Cappie!” The droid tootles happily at her, and she starts flipping through the various screens which detail what is in the system, and something catches her eye. Her brow creases, as she leans closer to the screen. Sitting back, she pours power into the repulsers, using them to direct her ship to the closest one, scanning it with the rudimentary sensors found onboard every X-Wing.

As she nears it, she recognizes it for what it is, a large dovin basil. She frowns wondering what it is doing out here. She scans looking for another one, and finds it a few kilometers off and closer to the star. Then another, and then another.

She does a wide spectrum scan and finds a line of them, stretching from the sun to the remains of the still burning worldship.

A deep hate and rage erupts in her, as she growls out Kyp’s name. She flicks on her com. “Rogue Leader, this is Sticks.”

She can the hear relief in Gavin’s voice. “Sticks! Happy you could rejoin us.”

The joy in Gavin’s voice relieves some of the anger, but it is still burning bright in her stomach. “Copy that Lead, but there’s something down here, I, I think you need to see it.”

Concern fills his voice. “On my way Sticks.”

Jaina allows her ship to wait there by the dovin basil, the anger still boiling within her. Finally Gavin arrives in his X-Wing.

“What did you need me to…Oh.”

“Yes sir and they stretch from the sun to the worldship.”

She imagines him gritting his teeth. “I see. Well get back to the Ralroost, we’re about to leave the system.”

“Yes sir.”

She applies power thrust to her engines slowly, and accelerates until her ship begins to shudder under the stress. Easing back on the thrust, she heads towards the Ralroost.

The air of excitement and celebration in the hanger bay nauseates her, and she lands her craft. Ignoring her post-flight checklist she pushes open the canopy and stumbles out, her body rebelling at her demands to stand up straight after being cramped in the fighter for too long with the phantom pain coming from her Aunt Mara.

She gasps and grabs at her side, a grimace marring her features, and her eyes squeeze shut, as pain slices through her. She opens her eyes, and blows out a breath. That was not as bad as the others.

She straightens, and scans the crowds. A horn blares, and Jaina looks out the magfield and sees the swirls of hyperspace. She once more starts looking around at those gathered, trying to find the person she wants to hit. Another contraction flows to her from her aunt, and she winces.

Finally she sees him.

A low growl comes from her throat as she stalks over to him. A light shines in his eyes, as his back is being pounded by the pilots in his Dozen. He looks down at her, one corner of his lips tugged into a superior smirk.

Another wave of pain crashes against her and Jaina is lost to her anger.

The thud of her fist colliding with his chin, stops all the yelling and celebrations. He crumples to the floor, where she quickly plants her foot in his stomach. A wave of her hand causes flecks of blood to splatter on the ground around her. Jaina looks at her hand and starts to suck the bloody knuckle while she continues to stare at Kyp as he picks himself up off the floor.

She moves the knuckle from her mouth. “You…you…” Anger flares again, as she is unable of something appropriate vile to call him. Both of her fists tighten, her body trembling as she suppresses the urge to once more start hitting on him. With an effort of will, she unclenches her fists.

A malicious light appears in Kyp’s eyes. “Come on Princess; tell me what you truly think.”

Her fist balls, a sliver of agony, which calls out to be used against him again. “You kriffing schutta. How dare you!”

“How dare I what Princess?” His voice drips venom and sarcasm on the last word.

She gestures to the pilots and flight crew around them. “Why don’t you tell them the truth, tell them what we really fought out there. Tell them that it wasn’t a Yuuzhan Vong superweapon that their friends died for today.”

Kyp shrugs. “It wasn’t. It was a standard, run of the mill worldship. A civilian craft.”

“Why Kyp! Why?”

Kyp leans down so his face can be closer to her. “To send a message to the Vong.”

Quiet hangs over the hanger. Jaina’s eyes narrows. “What kind of message?”

He raises his voice so everyone in the hanger can hear him. “That they are not safe. That their civilians are not safe. They have walked over our worlds, enslaved our civilian populations, they destroyed Ithor! But until now we have only destroyed military craft.”

“We’re supposed to be better than that!” Her voice echoes in the cavernous hanger.

“We are, but now we have hit them where it hurts, we destroyed the hope for their civilians still outside the galaxy. From what I understand some of their worldships don’t have the ability to get into our galaxy. So the Vong can use warships to ferry people, or let them die. Regardless it tells the Vong that if our people are not safe from their depravations, then neither are theirs safe from ours.”

As he finishes his speech, a number of the pilots in the crowd cheer for him. Too many for Jaina’s peace of mind.

“But you used me to do it. Now those deaths are on me, they’re partly my fault.”

Kyp shrugs his shoulders again. “The galaxy doesn’t revolve around you, Princess. You never had a home world; you don’t understand what it means to these people out here. To know that their worlds, their families and friends are suffering under the Vong, killed or turned into slaves or worse. We’ve just given the Vong a small sampling of what that tastes like.”

Jaina’s fist is connected with his chin again before she has conscious thought that she is going to hit him. Another growl rolls from her throat as he falls to the ground. Pulling back her foot she quickly kicks him and pulls her saber.

As she ignites it, hands grab her arms, trying to pull her away from him, and she can hear Gavin’s voice in her ear. “Stand down Jaina. He’s not worth it.”

She glances towards him, and then looks over the other shoulder to see Wedge, who is staring at her with understanding in his eyes. “Gavin’s right, Jaina - don’t do this.”

She heaves a deep breath, and extinguishes her saber. Glaring down at Kyp she spits on him. “I never want to see you again Durron.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

She moves to kick him again, stopping herself at the last minute. “I hate you.”

His laughter haunts her as she walks from him, almost as much as the final words he says to her. “I love you though, Princess.”

She sees one of the technicians who is looking over her X-wing. She stops beside him, fighting back the tears. “Please get my fighter repaired.”

Startled the technician looks at her, and snaps a hasty salute. “Yes ma’am.”

She leaves the hanger, a numbness crawling up her chest, and settling into her heart. Arriving at her assigned cabin, she unzips the flightsuit and shrugs out of it, allowing it to fall to the floor in a pile. She collapses onto the bed, and buries her face into her pillow as the tears start flowing freely, and her small frame is wracked with sobs.

Finally she sleeps.

She awakens to find herself screaming her aunt’s, her master’s, her mentor’s name. It echoes within the small cabin as a fire rages throughout her stomach and groin. Pain floods her from the bond she shares with Mara. She curls up into a ball as the pain crests.

And then it is gone.

She sits up, her brows scrunched in confusion. The other pains tapered off, this one just disappeared. Then she smiles, her new cousin must have been born. She probes her Aunt Mara, and just gets a feeling of exhaustion and completion, and then she probes Luke, and feels that blast of happiness and awe.

She lies back on the bed, finally slipping under the ships, when the Force wails with her Uncle Luke’s grief. A wall of it, of those dark emotions slams into her. She stretches out to find Mara, reaches further into the Force than she ever has before.

And finds nothing.

---------------------------------------------------

Jacen frowns as a wave of black grief rolls over him. He looks skyward for a moment, before resuming batting the blaster bolts back towards the advancing Peace Brigade.

A name rolls off his tongue, a whisper, a prayer. A eulogy. “Aunt Mara.”

He looks around, wondering why he decided to come to this Force-forsaken planet again. Then he remembers, this is where his brother was last seen, at least as himself.

A flash of red flying past his head, reminds him that he needs to focus on what is in front of him. His aunt is dead, and if he doesn’t pay attention that could very well be his own fate.

A twist of the wrist and another bolt flies away from him, this time striking the devaronian who shot it at him. Jacen sighs, wondering why these Peace Brigades would think they could take him.

He feels a tug in the Force, and looks to the top of a building. There is Ganner, a grin on his face as he peers over the edge, watching those advancing against Jacen.

A question rolls through the Force, and Jacen shrugs his shoulder in reply. Then Ganner leaps, landing behind the Peace Brigade troops, and igniting his saber. He has three of them down on the ground missing body parts before the first one is able to turn around and face him.

To Ganner’s laughter, Jacen darts forward and attacks, always going for a disabling blow rather than a killing one.

As the last one falls, Jacen and Ganner extinguish their sabers, and Jacen leans down to talk to the leader of this cell of the Peace Brigade.

He holds a still image of Anakin up before the man’s face. “I’m looking for my brother.”

“Kriff off Jedi!”

The sound of running feet attracts the two Jedi’s attention. In unison they look down the alley and see the group advancing. Even with the distance separating them, they can see the brandished weapons, and can feel the aggression rolling through the Force.

Jacen sighs as he looks at Ganner. “No time to question him. Let’s get out of here.”

Ganner nods his head, and they run further down the street, ducking into an alley. As soon as they got out of sight of the crowd, they use the Force to leap to the top of the buildings, and go that way to the spaceport.

--------------------------------------------------------

Anakin sits in his meditation pose, letting the waves of agony wash over and through him. Then they stop, and Anakin reaches out once more, and can feel his uncle’s joy shining in the Force.

He can feel a smile stretch his features under the mask, happy at the knowledge that he now has a cousin.

Then Luke’s Force presence alters, changing from shining joy to overwhelming grief.

A grief which he finds curiously reflected in the Tahiri-shaped hole still in his heart. Scared he reaches for Mara, trying to find her in the Force. He can feel his Uncle doing the same, and for the first time since Tahiri’s death isn’t concerned if his Uncle finds him through the Force.

His only concern is not allowing his Aunt to die.

“NO!”

His scream echoes throughout Bast Castle, and Anakin pours more of his self into the Force, pushing at keeping Mara from death. He grasps her presence in the Force, pulls on it, against it. Refusing to let it go, refusing to let her go into the Force. It is slippery, and slides through his grip.

As the tears streak behind the mask, he can hear his Aunt’s voice. Calm, collected, professional.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.

As he screams his rage and sadness, he feels comforting arms wrap around him. Holding him tightly, crushing him against her. He collapses into Nelani’s embrace as his body shakes with his sobs.