Jaina Solo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sticksofthejedi) wrote2013-03-18 02:20 am
sticksofthejedi) wrote2013-03-18 02:20 am
Entry tags:
Memory 59
Memory: Meeting Jagged Fel.
Received: Day 230, afternoon
Form: Memories take the form of a box of three christmas crackers! Pop a cracker to receive a memory.
Summary: Jagged Fel sparks a crush through rivalmance, followed by a shared disdain of politicians and smiling scheming backstabbers.
--
Jaina's in formal robes on an Ithorian transparisteel orbiting dome-city. She's uncomfortable with the reception she's attending, because as comfortable as the Ithorian structures are, formalities have everyone dallying when there's an invasion coming to the planet. She's also annoyed because she was invited because of her status as a Solo and Jedi, instead of as a member of Rogue Squadron (currently sixteen years old, she's really hyped about being admitted into the most famous New Republic squadron at such a young age -- and not because of her background but because she proved to the squadron her skill early on in the Vong invasion).
She observes the pretty Ithorian flora and contemplates what she's learned of diplomacy from watching her mom. Her perception is that it's got a lot of polite-faced backstabbing. She prefers action, and sees beaurocrats as placing political limitations on what people in the field can do. Jaina ends up chatting quietly with Jedi Ganner while waiting for things to get moving. A lot of Jedi have gathered at Ithor to stop the Vong there. He's been scarred and humbled fighting the Vong, and says it was a good lesson for him -- he notes that he'd been feeling invincible, and learned otherwise. And that Kyp Durron and his bunch starting to split off from the rest of the Order need to learn it, too.
Jaina admits she's been dispelling some illusions for herself training with Rogue Squadron and the tentative enemy-turned-allied Imperial Remnant forces. She ends up dead in half the simulations right now; regular Imperials are easy, but she's finding the Chiss much more challenging. They both note that no one's actually seen any of the Chiss soldiers in person. Jaina notices that introductions are finally starting. She's nervous and really only wants to meet the Chiss squadron leader, blushing in a moment of RIVALMANCE.
In all of the simulations she had flown well. Perhaps she hadn't always been the best pilot in the squadron, but she'd been close to it. Every time she'd simmed against the Chiss and been shot out, their leader had been the one to kill her. She never had the sense that he was picking on her specifically, but to double-check that she pulled the statistical data from the simulator battles.
Over and over again the Chiss leader had gone after the hottest of the enemy pilots, picking them off in descending order. None of them made it easy for him, and both Wedge and Tycho had managed to kill him once, but in every statistical category the simulators measured he was skewing the bell curve to the high side. And that would not have been so bad, she decided, if he and the Chiss didn't keep to themselves. She didn't mind being shot out, but she hated the idea of being dismissed for dying.
The Ithorians are welcoming the Jedi by addressing Luke and Mara. Jaina has the sense the Ithorians are glad to have Jedi around to help them, but current Chief of State of the New Republic, Bork Fey'lya, would be "perfectly happy" if they died in defense of the world.
Next the Imperial Remnant is greeted, with Admiral Pellaeon in charge of the Imperials. Pellaeon's surprisingly enthusiastic about working with the New Republic, and starts engaging in small talk with some of the dignitaries. Ganner and Jaina joke that'll keep Fey'lya occupied, which is good because he'll have less time to interfere with the defense planning.
Before they can go on, the Chiss finally arrive. There's a dozen blue aliens, led by a human. Jaina definitely notices how he looks. He reaches the point he's supposed to, but when the Ithorian dignitary moves to go about the formalities, he brushes right on past the New Republic politicians. The man introduces himself to Bothan admiral Kre'fey, bows and shakes hands, then repeats it with Rogue Colonel Darklighter, Luke, Wedge Antilles, Pellaeon -- and then ignoring the Imperial politicians, too, he heads straight for Jaina.
He drew himself up before her, straight of limb and muscularly taut, then snapped his head and upper body forward in a bow that was not as deep as that given the others, but was nonetheless respectful. "I am Jagged Fel." He straightened, and she started to blush as his green-eyed gaze raked her over. "A Jedi, too. Fascinating."
Jaina: Too?
Jag: In addition to being a superior pilot. You are a difficult kill.
Jaina: [off-balance, but smiling] You meant that as a compliment.
Jag: Among the Chiss, it is high praise indeed. I was only a bit better than you at your age.
Ganner: [mocking] Which was what, about two years ago?
Jag: [completely unflappable] Yes, just before I took command of my squadron.
Wedge: [horning in] Colonel Fel.
Jag: Yes, Uncle?
Wedge: You should return to the dais and greet those people you bypassed. They're fairly important.
Jag: They're politicians.
Wedge: [lowering his voice] The impression is that you skipped past them because they are not human.
Jag: [RAISING his voice] If they believe I did not greet them because they are not human, they are stupid. I did not greet them because they are politicians.
(Some Sullustan senator): A convenient label behind which you hide your xenophobia.
Jag: [finally surprised] You are accusing me of having an anti alien bias?
Senator Pwoe: It floods from you, Colonel Fel. Your uniform is cut on Imperial lines, harkening back to the uniform of your father's 181st Imperial fighter group, one of the most effective Imperial units at suppressing the Rebellion. Your formality. Greetings like that were last seen at the Imperial court. The disdain with which you bypassed us makes it more than obvious.
Jag: [shaking his head] Where I come from --
Fey'lya: Where you come from is an archaeo-Imperial community. Grand Admiral Thrawn gathered his most staunch and reactionary followers and set them up like a pocket of infection. You've festered out there, hating every moment we have been in control of what was once your empire. You've inherited the attitudes that oppressed us for ages, and now, here you are, ready to resume control, all under the guise of helping us.
Jag: Stop, please. Don't make even more of a fool of yourself.
Fel'lya: How patronizing! You have to tell me what is best for me! You, born to privilege, have no idea what it is like to be discriminated against because of your species. You have no idea what it is like to sacrifice to win freedom. You even dare parade your nonhuman subordinates before us, reminding us of how Imperials should always be in the lead.
Jag: [turning cold] Where I come from, Chief Fey'lya, I am in the minority. I am the alien. If you remember anything from the history of your precious Rebellion, it is that Thrawn was uncompromising, and that is a trait of his people. I was raised among them, raised with them, judged by their standards. I met those standards. I exceeded those standards.
I won command of my squadron. These people competed to join that squadron. They wanted to fly with me, not because I am a man or because I am an Imperial, but because I am a superior pilot and leader.
And as for fighting for my freedom, I've been doing that in the Unknown Regions for all my life. My mother gave birth to five children. My older brother died fighting, as did a younger sister. Why are we out there? Why are we fighting? A threat to the New Republic like the Yuuzhan Vong has long been anticipated. You remember the devastation of the Yevethan Great Purge? There were things in the Unknown Regions that would have made it look insignificant, save we were there and stopped them.
You accuse me of xenophobia, but you ignored the fact that I greeted my host, an Ithorian, and immediately greeted Admiral Kre'fey, a Bothan. You saw what you wanted to see. This is what you accuse me of, accuse Imperials of: that we saw only bestiality where there was sapience and nobility. I have come here to help defend you against the Yuuzhan Vong, and yet what you choose to see is some specter of the past.
That is why I bypassed you. I came to fight a war, not to play political games. My mission is to help you maintain your freedom, not to help you gather more power to yourself, or to take it from you.
Leia: We want that help. From you, from the Remnant, from all the peoples of the New Republic. Working together is the only way we will defeat the Yuuzhan Vong and save Ithor.
People applaud Leia's response. Jaina joins numbly, but is dwelling on the words of the politicians. She remembers how the politicians were quick to look for any excuse to criticize the Jedi the same way they did Jag, as the Republic lost Garqi and Dubrillion to the Vong. She (correctly) presumes the politicians are setting up the Jedi and Imperial/Chiss to take the blame if Ithor falls to the Vong, too.
Jag Fel turned and looked at her, and Jaina wondered if, somehow, he were reading her mind. She met his stare unflinchingly. "We will save Ithor."
He nodded. "We will win the battle for Ithor. Its salvation, well ..." He spared a glance for the knot of New Republic politicians. "Its salvation is in other hands and, I am afraid, is beyond our ability to control."
Received: Day 230, afternoon
Form: Memories take the form of a box of three christmas crackers! Pop a cracker to receive a memory.
Summary: Jagged Fel sparks a crush through rivalmance, followed by a shared disdain of politicians and smiling scheming backstabbers.
--
Jaina's in formal robes on an Ithorian transparisteel orbiting dome-city. She's uncomfortable with the reception she's attending, because as comfortable as the Ithorian structures are, formalities have everyone dallying when there's an invasion coming to the planet. She's also annoyed because she was invited because of her status as a Solo and Jedi, instead of as a member of Rogue Squadron (currently sixteen years old, she's really hyped about being admitted into the most famous New Republic squadron at such a young age -- and not because of her background but because she proved to the squadron her skill early on in the Vong invasion).
She observes the pretty Ithorian flora and contemplates what she's learned of diplomacy from watching her mom. Her perception is that it's got a lot of polite-faced backstabbing. She prefers action, and sees beaurocrats as placing political limitations on what people in the field can do. Jaina ends up chatting quietly with Jedi Ganner while waiting for things to get moving. A lot of Jedi have gathered at Ithor to stop the Vong there. He's been scarred and humbled fighting the Vong, and says it was a good lesson for him -- he notes that he'd been feeling invincible, and learned otherwise. And that Kyp Durron and his bunch starting to split off from the rest of the Order need to learn it, too.
Jaina admits she's been dispelling some illusions for herself training with Rogue Squadron and the tentative enemy-turned-allied Imperial Remnant forces. She ends up dead in half the simulations right now; regular Imperials are easy, but she's finding the Chiss much more challenging. They both note that no one's actually seen any of the Chiss soldiers in person. Jaina notices that introductions are finally starting. She's nervous and really only wants to meet the Chiss squadron leader, blushing in a moment of RIVALMANCE.
In all of the simulations she had flown well. Perhaps she hadn't always been the best pilot in the squadron, but she'd been close to it. Every time she'd simmed against the Chiss and been shot out, their leader had been the one to kill her. She never had the sense that he was picking on her specifically, but to double-check that she pulled the statistical data from the simulator battles.
Over and over again the Chiss leader had gone after the hottest of the enemy pilots, picking them off in descending order. None of them made it easy for him, and both Wedge and Tycho had managed to kill him once, but in every statistical category the simulators measured he was skewing the bell curve to the high side. And that would not have been so bad, she decided, if he and the Chiss didn't keep to themselves. She didn't mind being shot out, but she hated the idea of being dismissed for dying.
The Ithorians are welcoming the Jedi by addressing Luke and Mara. Jaina has the sense the Ithorians are glad to have Jedi around to help them, but current Chief of State of the New Republic, Bork Fey'lya, would be "perfectly happy" if they died in defense of the world.
Next the Imperial Remnant is greeted, with Admiral Pellaeon in charge of the Imperials. Pellaeon's surprisingly enthusiastic about working with the New Republic, and starts engaging in small talk with some of the dignitaries. Ganner and Jaina joke that'll keep Fey'lya occupied, which is good because he'll have less time to interfere with the defense planning.
Before they can go on, the Chiss finally arrive. There's a dozen blue aliens, led by a human. Jaina definitely notices how he looks. He reaches the point he's supposed to, but when the Ithorian dignitary moves to go about the formalities, he brushes right on past the New Republic politicians. The man introduces himself to Bothan admiral Kre'fey, bows and shakes hands, then repeats it with Rogue Colonel Darklighter, Luke, Wedge Antilles, Pellaeon -- and then ignoring the Imperial politicians, too, he heads straight for Jaina.
He drew himself up before her, straight of limb and muscularly taut, then snapped his head and upper body forward in a bow that was not as deep as that given the others, but was nonetheless respectful. "I am Jagged Fel." He straightened, and she started to blush as his green-eyed gaze raked her over. "A Jedi, too. Fascinating."
Jaina: Too?
Jag: In addition to being a superior pilot. You are a difficult kill.
Jaina: [off-balance, but smiling] You meant that as a compliment.
Jag: Among the Chiss, it is high praise indeed. I was only a bit better than you at your age.
Ganner: [mocking] Which was what, about two years ago?
Jag: [completely unflappable] Yes, just before I took command of my squadron.
Wedge: [horning in] Colonel Fel.
Jag: Yes, Uncle?
Wedge: You should return to the dais and greet those people you bypassed. They're fairly important.
Jag: They're politicians.
Wedge: [lowering his voice] The impression is that you skipped past them because they are not human.
Jag: [RAISING his voice] If they believe I did not greet them because they are not human, they are stupid. I did not greet them because they are politicians.
(Some Sullustan senator): A convenient label behind which you hide your xenophobia.
Jag: [finally surprised] You are accusing me of having an anti alien bias?
Senator Pwoe: It floods from you, Colonel Fel. Your uniform is cut on Imperial lines, harkening back to the uniform of your father's 181st Imperial fighter group, one of the most effective Imperial units at suppressing the Rebellion. Your formality. Greetings like that were last seen at the Imperial court. The disdain with which you bypassed us makes it more than obvious.
Jag: [shaking his head] Where I come from --
Fey'lya: Where you come from is an archaeo-Imperial community. Grand Admiral Thrawn gathered his most staunch and reactionary followers and set them up like a pocket of infection. You've festered out there, hating every moment we have been in control of what was once your empire. You've inherited the attitudes that oppressed us for ages, and now, here you are, ready to resume control, all under the guise of helping us.
Jag: Stop, please. Don't make even more of a fool of yourself.
Fel'lya: How patronizing! You have to tell me what is best for me! You, born to privilege, have no idea what it is like to be discriminated against because of your species. You have no idea what it is like to sacrifice to win freedom. You even dare parade your nonhuman subordinates before us, reminding us of how Imperials should always be in the lead.
Jag: [turning cold] Where I come from, Chief Fey'lya, I am in the minority. I am the alien. If you remember anything from the history of your precious Rebellion, it is that Thrawn was uncompromising, and that is a trait of his people. I was raised among them, raised with them, judged by their standards. I met those standards. I exceeded those standards.
I won command of my squadron. These people competed to join that squadron. They wanted to fly with me, not because I am a man or because I am an Imperial, but because I am a superior pilot and leader.
And as for fighting for my freedom, I've been doing that in the Unknown Regions for all my life. My mother gave birth to five children. My older brother died fighting, as did a younger sister. Why are we out there? Why are we fighting? A threat to the New Republic like the Yuuzhan Vong has long been anticipated. You remember the devastation of the Yevethan Great Purge? There were things in the Unknown Regions that would have made it look insignificant, save we were there and stopped them.
You accuse me of xenophobia, but you ignored the fact that I greeted my host, an Ithorian, and immediately greeted Admiral Kre'fey, a Bothan. You saw what you wanted to see. This is what you accuse me of, accuse Imperials of: that we saw only bestiality where there was sapience and nobility. I have come here to help defend you against the Yuuzhan Vong, and yet what you choose to see is some specter of the past.
That is why I bypassed you. I came to fight a war, not to play political games. My mission is to help you maintain your freedom, not to help you gather more power to yourself, or to take it from you.
Leia: We want that help. From you, from the Remnant, from all the peoples of the New Republic. Working together is the only way we will defeat the Yuuzhan Vong and save Ithor.
People applaud Leia's response. Jaina joins numbly, but is dwelling on the words of the politicians. She remembers how the politicians were quick to look for any excuse to criticize the Jedi the same way they did Jag, as the Republic lost Garqi and Dubrillion to the Vong. She (correctly) presumes the politicians are setting up the Jedi and Imperial/Chiss to take the blame if Ithor falls to the Vong, too.
Jag Fel turned and looked at her, and Jaina wondered if, somehow, he were reading her mind. She met his stare unflinchingly. "We will save Ithor."
He nodded. "We will win the battle for Ithor. Its salvation, well ..." He spared a glance for the knot of New Republic politicians. "Its salvation is in other hands and, I am afraid, is beyond our ability to control."