Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 11_ Dark Journey - Elaine Cunningham [103]
“You can’t compare our situations.”
“We both lost brothers.”
“And maybe hitting the Yuuzhan Vong hard will give some meaning to my brothers’ deaths.”
“I tried to avenge my brother,” Kyp reminded her, “and I ended up killing him. Your mother thinks Jacen’s still alive. What if she’s right?”
Jaina lowered her lightsaber, and her face was a study of stunned fury. The older Jedi shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, gaining balance in preparation for the coming attack.
But Jaina switched off her weapon. “You want the mission? Take it. But you’d better survive it. We’re not finished here. Not by a long shot.”
She stormed out of the docking bay, leaving Kyp staring thoughtfully after her.
Jag Fel came into the docking bay in time to catch part of the battle, and some of the conversation. He began to understand Tenel Ka’s concern for Jaina, and on impulse he sprinted over, catching her by the back exit.
He skidded to a stop and suddenly realized that he had no idea what to say. Jaina eyed him warily.
“I came to thank you for your help,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
By now he’d fallen into more of a rhythm. “Word has it that you’ve been recruiting Hapan pilots, getting them back into the skies. I don’t have enough scouts to cover this area. Every set of eyes helps. And when the time comes to fight, there will be more pilots prepared and aware.”
Some of the ice around Jaina’s heart seemed to melt just a bit. For some reason, Jag’s comment took some of the sting out of her recent encounter with Kyp. “We all do what we can.”
“You and your family have given more than most,” he observed. “Forgive me, but I heard what Kyp Durron said to you. I know how difficult these times can be. I, too, lost two siblings in battle.”
Jaina bristled. “So what are you saying? That my loss is no greater than anyone else’s? Anakin and Jacen no more important than any other casualty?”
Too late, Jag realized that this was not the sort of truth that a grieving person could absorb. “That’s not what I intended to portray.”
Her ire faded quickly. “Forget it.” She blew her bangs away from her eyes, a small gesture that seemed incredibly weary. “So why did you come? You’re not usually one for small talk.”
And that, Jag noted, was the dilemma. He couldn’t exactly blurt out, “Don’t marry Prince Isolder.”
“You have a natural gift for leadership,” he continued. “People will follow you, whether you want them to or not. Rank is not important to someone like you.”
Jaina’s face went very still. “This is all very interesting, but where is it going?”
“I just wanted to express an opinion,” he said, feeling incredibly awkward. “The rank you were born with suits you very well. Anything more would be redundant.”
“I see,” she said in a flat tone. “Coming from the son of Baron Fel—a jumped-up Corellian dirt farmer—that’s worth about as much as Ithorian currency.”
Jag began to feel his own temper rise. “Why must you take offense at every turn?”
“Why must you answer questions that no one bothered to ask?” she returned heatedly.
To Jag’s astonishment, she turned and fled. He watched her go, wondering what meaning she might have heard in his words that he had never intended to place there.
Jaina slowed to a walk as soon as she left the docking bay behind, but her heart held pace, hammering in her ears.
What was Jag Fel’s problem? Sure, maybe she’d flirted with him a little at the diplomatic dinner, but had she ever given him reason to warn her off?
Keep to her rank. Yeah, right. Keep out of his, most likely!
For some reason the notion of a Baroness Jaina must have crawled up his exhaust and nested, and, honorable and forthright guy that he was, he just had to let her know that this wasn’t in the sabacc cards. Well, thanks for the clarification, but who asked?
Jaina took a long, steadying breath and tried to banish Jag Fel from her thoughts. He