Jagged Fel’s footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way across the almost empty hanger. Only a single light cut through the darkness and in the center of that light stood his Chiss Clawcraft looking ominous in the dim light. He tightened the straps of his gloves around his wrists as stepped into the ring of light around his fighter. He walked around it once dragging his hand across the chilled sheet metal re-familiarize himself with the fighter and checking for external damage at the same time. Satisfied he ducked under the ball cockpit and released the lock on the entry hatch.
“Jagged.”
The softly spoken word bounced around the hanger and into his ears. He stepped out from under the clawcraft.
“Jagged, come here baby.” As the words were said a figure dressed in white robes walked into the light with her arms outstretched towards him. Jag walked forward and into her embrace. He felt her soft hair against the left side of his face. The soft scent of her perfume filled his head and nearly made him forget about everything but home. She broke the embrace and held Jag by his shoulders at arms length. She looked up into his eyes, “Be careful,” was all she said.
Jag nodded, “Yes mother.”
“I know that you’ve always done everything with your head in command, but in this situation I think you need to give up the lead and let your heart take over.” She tapped his chestplate over his heart making a hollow thud echo in the hanger. “Use your intelligence to interpret what your heart is telling you, but go where it wants.” She moved her hand from his chestplate to the scar over his right eye still looking a pinkish white from being just a few years old. She traced it into the also fairly new lock of grey hair then pulled him close one last time before releasing him and stepping back to the edge of darkness.
Jag ducked back under the cockpit and climbed inside. He closed the hatch and brought the ship to life. His fingers quickly danced over the controls and lights performing the preflight check of the craft. Finishing the check he powered the repulser lifts. The Chiss fighter gently rose into the air. He gave his mother one last look before spinning the craft around towards the star cluttered space. Jag pushed the throttle forward and the fighter glided out of the hanger.
Once out a klick from the space station he engaged the craft’s primary engines and the fighter rocketed forward. He pulled backwards slightly on the controls sending his ship into a gradual upwards arc towards his hyperspace entry point. With his left hand he locked the coordinates into his nav computer then rested his hand over the hyperspace lever and watched as the distance between him and the entry point dropped rapidly. Once the numbers reached zero he pushed the lever forward and the cluster of stars in front of him elongated into a bluish tunnel of light. Jag rested back in his seat preparing for a long flight.
All around him were the lifeless bodies of his squadron mates. Gavin lay off to his left, his body riddled with smoldering blaster holes, Myn was collapsed on top of him bleeding from the mouth and his right leg bent ninety degrees off to the side in the middle of his thigh. Dana lay on the floor to his right, her cold, dead eyes looking up at him. His uncle, Wedge Antilles, lay a little further off his neck snapped and his head spun around backwards looking at what appeared to be the remains of Wes Janson best he could tell.
What happened here? Jag looked down at his feet. Blood covered his boots and was splattered over his white jumpsuit. In his hands he saw his Chiss sporting blaster in his right and a vibroblade in his left. He quickly dropped both to the ground with a loud clatter and began to step backwards, but on his second step back he tripped over the body of Mike Ngo. He fell back onto another body and quickly scrambled to his feet not even looking to see who it was. He began to run.
“Jag,” a voice that he could never forget called out to him. He spun around and saw he was no more than five feet away from Siee Janson, his one time girlfriend before he packed up and went back home. “What have you done?” she asked him.
“I didn’t want to!” Jag yelled out.
“You’ve got to believe me!”
Another voice entered his head, “Kill her.”
Jag shook his head and began to back away but collapsed to the floor as he felt excruciation pain ripple through his entire being. The pain was so great he couldn’t move or think. He just lay there nearly lifeless. After a few moments the pain vanished and he was able to push himself back to his feet.
“Kill her,” the voice said again.
He didn’t want to and he tried to fight it but it was as if his body was not his own. He felt his legs moving towards the youngest Janson.
“Jag are you okay? What are you doing?” she asked. “No Jag, no. Stop!”
He reached out and put his right hand behind her head. He grabbed a handful of her silky hair in the process and pulled tilting her head backwards. He saw her lips moving yelling at him, pleading with him. But he couldn’t hear the words. He placed his left hand over her mouth and jaw. He could feel her soft lips trying to move against his palm. Jag desperately fought with himself to let go of her but it was a losing battle. He felt himself begin to turn her head pulling with the right and pushing with the left. Her jaw got to her right shoulder and Jag began to feel the resistance of the bones in her neck. He pushed harder continuing to turn her neck. The resistance increased until a loud pop echoed in his ears then the head moved easily and freely the rest of the way around.
He let go and the girl crumpled to the floor.
Jag jolted awake and quickly looked around to check his surroundings. He was still sitting in the cockpit of his clawcraft traveling through hyperspace. Red and green lights pulsated and illuminated the fighter. He felt sweat running down his face and neck. He resisted making the fatal mistake of removing his helmet. Instead he reached down to the control panel on his chestplate. He turned the knob to increase the airflow to his helmet. Instantly he felt the cool air blowing past his face. He slouched back into his seat and felt every muscle in his body unclench.
It had been almost 2 years since the visions first appeared. They started just after he escaped Imperial imprisonment at Tralus. He thought that time would kill the visions, however a year later when the visions failed to leave he began to pull away from everyone, becoming distant, scared of what he might do. The visions became more frequent; he couldn’t even look at another Rogue without seeing their dead body flash through his mind. He then left Rogue Squadron and headed back home hoping that without seeing his squadron mates the visions would haunt him no longer.
He was wrong. Even at home they came, and became more and more frequent. Now a year after he left he decided to go back thinking that maybe someone would know how to help him. However, he wondered if he would even be able to reveal his secret to anyone else. The only people that knew were his parents and himself.
Before his thoughts could travel any further an alarm sounded off to his left indicating that the first leg of his jump was complete.
