Event Narrative
She accuses you of not trusting her, subtle as a thermal detonator. Same old Jaina. But there's truth in that accusation, even as you're reminded about how much she's still the same. You do trust her, but you don't trust her mind at the moment, you don't trust her feelings and where her head's at. you don't trust her to make sound decision after Anakin's death, after losing Jacen.
"If you really believed that I haven't changed, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she says to you.
"Then let's not. This isn't the time,” you tell her, not wanting to talk about it. How can you begin to reason with your oldest friend when she believes she's in the right?
"You're right," she retorts. "We should have settled this days ago-all of us. Maybe then we wouldn't have come apart down there."
"What do you mean?"
The conversation dissolves from there, and she's quick to point out how the mission failed because of them all, but mostly she's blaming Jacen for Anakin's death, blaming you for being distracted by the Dark Jedi. You bristle at that. Not because she's right, but because you were right. But she asks you to let her make her point already, and a familiar feeling takes you over. It's something you've long forgotten, that sense of humor that has died in this war along with everyone else. A smirk tugs at your lips, and you can see a light in her eyes that says she remembers, too. She remembers who you both were only a few years ago.
"It's like this," she says quietly. "For the last two years I've listened to Anakin and Jacen debate the role of the Jedi and our relationship to the Force. In the end, what did any of that amount to?"
You lean forward, resting your hand on her shoulder, but she shakes it off. You allow it, don't attempt to do it again. This is Jaina and everything goes at her pace. You're okay with this, even if you want more.
She goes on, explaining her point, talking about Anakin's loss to this galaxy, to the Jedi. It's not just personal for her, it's bigger than that. You know she's right. There was something about Anakin that made him different, made him seem like he would be the answer to the future of the Order. But you also know that she's not looking at this personally. Not feeling for her brothers. You remain silent for a moment before you look her over again. Anakin is dead, and nothing will change that. Nothing will bring him back and nothing can replace him within the Force.
But still, you have to remind her.
“We still have the Force, and each other.” It's an offer, plain and simple. You love her. You need her to know you're here for her. It's the worst time to remind her of this, but when will the right time occur? Will it ever? Nobody expected Anakin to die, but he did. You know that more will die before there's an end to this war. Maybe you'll die.
"Each other," she echoes softly. "But for how long, Zekk? If the Jedi keep having 'successes' like this last mission, pretty soon there won't be any of us left."
You expect her to brush you off like this, to ignore that one simple offer. She is Jaina, after all, wholly familiar. You nod in response to her words, settle back into the seat you've been occupying. Finally, you tear your gaze away from her. “At least we're going home.”
It's not Coruscant you're looking forward to, however. It's just being alive and with Jaina, with the others who have survived with you. Going home means you live to fight another day, for now.
"If you really believed that I haven't changed, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she says to you.
"Then let's not. This isn't the time,” you tell her, not wanting to talk about it. How can you begin to reason with your oldest friend when she believes she's in the right?
"You're right," she retorts. "We should have settled this days ago-all of us. Maybe then we wouldn't have come apart down there."
"What do you mean?"
The conversation dissolves from there, and she's quick to point out how the mission failed because of them all, but mostly she's blaming Jacen for Anakin's death, blaming you for being distracted by the Dark Jedi. You bristle at that. Not because she's right, but because you were right. But she asks you to let her make her point already, and a familiar feeling takes you over. It's something you've long forgotten, that sense of humor that has died in this war along with everyone else. A smirk tugs at your lips, and you can see a light in her eyes that says she remembers, too. She remembers who you both were only a few years ago.
"It's like this," she says quietly. "For the last two years I've listened to Anakin and Jacen debate the role of the Jedi and our relationship to the Force. In the end, what did any of that amount to?"
You lean forward, resting your hand on her shoulder, but she shakes it off. You allow it, don't attempt to do it again. This is Jaina and everything goes at her pace. You're okay with this, even if you want more.
She goes on, explaining her point, talking about Anakin's loss to this galaxy, to the Jedi. It's not just personal for her, it's bigger than that. You know she's right. There was something about Anakin that made him different, made him seem like he would be the answer to the future of the Order. But you also know that she's not looking at this personally. Not feeling for her brothers. You remain silent for a moment before you look her over again. Anakin is dead, and nothing will change that. Nothing will bring him back and nothing can replace him within the Force.
But still, you have to remind her.
“We still have the Force, and each other.” It's an offer, plain and simple. You love her. You need her to know you're here for her. It's the worst time to remind her of this, but when will the right time occur? Will it ever? Nobody expected Anakin to die, but he did. You know that more will die before there's an end to this war. Maybe you'll die.
"Each other," she echoes softly. "But for how long, Zekk? If the Jedi keep having 'successes' like this last mission, pretty soon there won't be any of us left."
You expect her to brush you off like this, to ignore that one simple offer. She is Jaina, after all, wholly familiar. You nod in response to her words, settle back into the seat you've been occupying. Finally, you tear your gaze away from her. “At least we're going home.”
It's not Coruscant you're looking forward to, however. It's just being alive and with Jaina, with the others who have survived with you. Going home means you live to fight another day, for now.