Kyp was sitting atop his
X-wing, painting a few more kill markers in place. He liked to do
that himself, in stead of the mechanics. It was...
theraputic somehow. He looked up as he felt someone enter the
otherwise
empty hangar.
Colonel Jagged Fel was
heading toward his clawcraft at an even, determined pace. Though,
that seemed to be the *only* pace he knew. Mildly, Kyp wondered
just what Col. Ferrocrete was up to now. "Where you off to, Fel?"
He stopped and turned a
steely green gaze upon the Jedi seated atop his X-wing. "I'm
going back."
Kyp frowned and jumped down
to confront the younger man, "What do you mean, 'going back'? I
know you promised Jaina you'd stay."
"I have my duties. She
understands," Jag lifted his chin imperiously and sidestepped past Kyp.
Kyp reached out and grabbed
his arm before he could pass. "I don't think you understand," he
hissed in a low voice. "You made a promise, and leaving'll only
hurt her more."
Jag shrugged out of his grasp
and stepped back. "No, I don't think you understand, Master Durron.
If I don't go now..." he shook his head and let out a sharp, barking
laugh. "I don't need to explain
myself to you."
"Think again," Kyp growled.
"Listen. I already told
her goodbye. She knows I'll be back. Keep an eye on her for
me, okay? Make sure she doesn't try to pull
off anything stupid."
"Oh, I'll keep an eye out for
her, alright," Kyp muttered as Jagged turned and entered his
fighter. "But not for your sake. For hers."
Too angry to stay around in
the hangar any longer, Kyp headed to his room. Perhaps he could
sleep off the tumultous emotions roiling through himself.
*
Jaina waded back to
wakefulness. Her head hurt, her eyes were sore, and something
very uncomfortable was pressed up against her leg; between
it, and the bed. "What the-?" She rolled onto her back and
looked at the thin mattress.
Nothing there.... She rolled back onto her
side, and felt
the discomfort once again.
Then, it was as though a
glowlamp went on in her mind. She returned to her back, and
searched her pockets. She grinned triumphantly as
she pulled out the offending wadded piece of flimsy.
Then
she frowned at it as though it were a Gamorrean doing ballet. Now,
where in the galaxy did this come from?
She unfolded it, then
realised it was the scrap she'd filtched from Kyp's room. Force,
it seemed like ages ago.
Yep, it was Durron's
handwriting alright.
She scooted to sit with her
back to the wall, and began reading.
Her eyes widened in shock, and a little anger at the first few
paragraphs
professing love. But then... then she saw, through his eyes, how
she'd
been his saviour as an inquisitive child. Through his words, she
felt
his pain as the gulf between them appeared; the anguish of her
flirtations
with the Dark Side and his desperation to pull her back to the
Light.
She saw his hurt at her relationship, if you could call it that, with
Jagged
Fel.
She blinked at the way the
letter closed. She felt confusion at his belief that whatever he
thought, or felt, was worthless. A plea for her to be
happy. Determination that she never know how he felt.
Confused, she folded up the flimsy, and moved to stuff it into her
footlocker. She knew she should throw it out, but....
Noting the chrono's
declaration that she had several hours of the night left, she sat
on the edge of her bed and pulled off her boots, then her flightsuit,
as she changed into something more comfortable to sleep in. She
crawled back into the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she
huddled against the darkness.
As she fell asleep, she never
saw the ghostly apparition of a young Tanaabian woman, smiling
secretly, in the corner of the room. She never saw
the young woman tense and frown, never saw her leave for some unknown
mission on the other side.
Hidden Love : Chapter Three