Csilla - Fel Residence
It wasn’t what she had expected. In the end, they had settled on a compromise. No Ossus and no teaching. Csilla and fieldwork instead, so Jag could continue his career in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force and Jaina could, well, be a Jedi, she supposed. The Ruiling Families had agreed to allow Commander Fel to bring his wife with him to his home planet - Jedi Joiner from the Killik war or not. Missions close to home for Jag, and frequent communication with the Jedi Council for Jaina.
What had, however, possibly surprised her most was the room Jaina was standing in right now. The working room of a shrimp farm. She hadn’t actually believed they existed when Jag had joked about it a couple of years ago. But here she was, standing next to an empty plexisteel tank that had once contained Csillan ice shrimp, back when the farm was operational. How Jag had found the farm, Jaina had no idea, and her husband was refusing to share the secret. But sure enough, it was theirs: this bit of property between some sea she couldn’t remember the name of and Csapler, the capital of Csilla.
She ran her hands up and down the sides of her arms, shivering despite the poncho she wore. How Jag had survived a childhood on this planet was inconceivable to the Jedi. Even inside the home, buried deep within one of the Chiss’ underground warrens, it was cold enough. Forget about going outside along the underground roadways.
“Well?”
A warm arm slipped over her shoulders and Jaina smiled, leaning into the embrace. Her husband was finally home, after a few hours spent away at CEDF headquarters. It was only their third day living here - approximately a week and a half since they left Milliways. Days had passed while they were gone, stuck in the bar at the end of the universe. Thankfully, it was only a handful, and Jaina’s aunt had spread a rumor that the newlyweds had stolen away for an extended honeymoon.
“It’s dusty.”
“That’s because it hasn’t been used in years,” Jag replied, surveying the room for himself. The plexisteel glass tanks used to raise and harvest the ice shrimp were thick with dust, and countless droids lay abandoned along the sides of the wall. It was old and abandoned, but it was a home.
“I still can’t believe you found this place.” She turned around to hug his waist, leaning her head against his chest. “An actual shrimp farm. Rodder, if I wasn’t standing here, I doubt I’d believe it.”
Jag rubbed her back underneath the poncho, eliciting a slight sigh from his wife. “I’m glad you like it, Jaina. Thank you. For coming here.”
She chuckled softly and nodded against his chest. “Hey, if it means I get to do more fieldwork and missions, I’m not going to complain. Better at that than teaching, after all.”
It was the one part of the deal she probably liked the best. Csilla was far - possibly as far as she’d ever been from the rest of her family in her life, even counting her constant moving around for five years. But she had her StealthX and they had the Evasive Maneuvers, meaning they could get anywhere anytime they wanted. Life on Csilla wouldn’t be so bad. Cold, maybe, but she was with her husband. In her galaxy. Finally starting their life together.
“I thought you said you were getting a job here, too.”
“I guess, maybe.” She had considered it. Something to do when she wasn’t on patrol with Jag, or on a mission for the Jedi. Children, in Jaina’s opinion, were still a while off in their future. They had a new lifestyle to grow accustomed to first. “It would be better than sitting around here all day.”
“Until the day I get to see you pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen,” Jag joked softly, smiling down at her.
“Until,” Jaina answered, her voice coming out a little more sarcastic and dry than her husband’s. She then stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the lips, a kiss that wound up lasting a lot longer than she expected. Fixing a lopsided grin on her face, Jaina nodded towards the exit of the work room. “What do you say, flyboy? Lots more rooms we haven’t explored yet.”
She could have sworn there was a mischievous glint in his green eyes when Jag nodded in response. A giggle escaped Jaina’s lips when he bentdown to scoop her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on, planting a small kiss on his neck. So far, married life wasn’t so bad, after all.
What had, however, possibly surprised her most was the room Jaina was standing in right now. The working room of a shrimp farm. She hadn’t actually believed they existed when Jag had joked about it a couple of years ago. But here she was, standing next to an empty plexisteel tank that had once contained Csillan ice shrimp, back when the farm was operational. How Jag had found the farm, Jaina had no idea, and her husband was refusing to share the secret. But sure enough, it was theirs: this bit of property between some sea she couldn’t remember the name of and Csapler, the capital of Csilla.
She ran her hands up and down the sides of her arms, shivering despite the poncho she wore. How Jag had survived a childhood on this planet was inconceivable to the Jedi. Even inside the home, buried deep within one of the Chiss’ underground warrens, it was cold enough. Forget about going outside along the underground roadways.
“Well?”
A warm arm slipped over her shoulders and Jaina smiled, leaning into the embrace. Her husband was finally home, after a few hours spent away at CEDF headquarters. It was only their third day living here - approximately a week and a half since they left Milliways. Days had passed while they were gone, stuck in the bar at the end of the universe. Thankfully, it was only a handful, and Jaina’s aunt had spread a rumor that the newlyweds had stolen away for an extended honeymoon.
“It’s dusty.”
“That’s because it hasn’t been used in years,” Jag replied, surveying the room for himself. The plexisteel glass tanks used to raise and harvest the ice shrimp were thick with dust, and countless droids lay abandoned along the sides of the wall. It was old and abandoned, but it was a home.
“I still can’t believe you found this place.” She turned around to hug his waist, leaning her head against his chest. “An actual shrimp farm. Rodder, if I wasn’t standing here, I doubt I’d believe it.”
Jag rubbed her back underneath the poncho, eliciting a slight sigh from his wife. “I’m glad you like it, Jaina. Thank you. For coming here.”
She chuckled softly and nodded against his chest. “Hey, if it means I get to do more fieldwork and missions, I’m not going to complain. Better at that than teaching, after all.”
It was the one part of the deal she probably liked the best. Csilla was far - possibly as far as she’d ever been from the rest of her family in her life, even counting her constant moving around for five years. But she had her StealthX and they had the Evasive Maneuvers, meaning they could get anywhere anytime they wanted. Life on Csilla wouldn’t be so bad. Cold, maybe, but she was with her husband. In her galaxy. Finally starting their life together.
“I thought you said you were getting a job here, too.”
“I guess, maybe.” She had considered it. Something to do when she wasn’t on patrol with Jag, or on a mission for the Jedi. Children, in Jaina’s opinion, were still a while off in their future. They had a new lifestyle to grow accustomed to first. “It would be better than sitting around here all day.”
“Until the day I get to see you pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen,” Jag joked softly, smiling down at her.
“Until,” Jaina answered, her voice coming out a little more sarcastic and dry than her husband’s. She then stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the lips, a kiss that wound up lasting a lot longer than she expected. Fixing a lopsided grin on her face, Jaina nodded towards the exit of the work room. “What do you say, flyboy? Lots more rooms we haven’t explored yet.”
She could have sworn there was a mischievous glint in his green eyes when Jag nodded in response. A giggle escaped Jaina’s lips when he bentdown to scoop her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on, planting a small kiss on his neck. So far, married life wasn’t so bad, after all.