The Goddess' Bidding [Kyp Durron, Jagged Fel; G]
Title: The Goddess' Bidding
Author: Latara the Ewok / batgirl_forever
Rating: G
Word count: 1330
Prompt: July 23rd--EU, Kyp Durron, Jaina Solo & Jag Fel: Kyp learning he has to be the "manservant" in NJO series.
Characters: Kyp Durron, Jagged Fel, Wraith Squadron
Summary: Kyp Durron is less than enthusiastic about his new job as a member of Twin Suns Squadron.
Betaed by: Jaina050 of the BC&T Boards on www.starwars.com. Thanks, Captain!
A/N: Not my characters, simply having fun in the sandbox. Takes place during Rebel Dream. Written for starwarsficfest 2008.
Minding his own business was a task Kyp Durron could do easily enough when he wanted, so he didn’t know why it was so difficult for everyone else. Being confined to the small biotics facility serving as the New Republic base on Borleais, though, put everyone in the other’s way, and when it came to meals, he just wanted to be left alone.
Finding an empty table on the edge of the commissary farthest from the meal line had been somewhat aggravating, but Kyp had hoped it would pay off in some needed peace. However, that didn’t stop a man in glaringly loud clothes--accompanied by a Gamorrean, of all beings--from walking straight up to his zone of solitude.
“Master Durron?” the man asked.
Kyp allowed his spoon to drop into his near-empty bowl of nerf stew. Until the man had addressed him by name, he’d rather hoped the two had simply been looking for company, which he could wave off with a particularly brooding fashion. Apparently, that wasn’t going to work. He sighed, and said, “Yes. What can I do for you?”
“My name is Sharr Latt,” said the man. “This is my associate, Voort saBinring, or Piggy, as we call him. We’re Wraiths.”
Appetite gone, Kyp crumpled his napkin into a ball, and jammed it in the bottom of his bowl, preparing to clear out. “Wraiths, huh? Don’t look invisible to me.”
“As if we have not heard that joke several dozen times,” Piggy commented, to Kyp’s surprise. The Gamorrean spoke through a voice synthesizer, which made the remark sound all the more dry. “We come on official business from the Great One.”
“Is that what Antilles is calling himself these days?” Kyp said with a smirk, and stood. He picked up his tray, hoping the two would catch on to the fact that he didn’t want to stick around.
Sharr and Piggy exchanged looks, and Sharr said, “No, we speak of the incarnate Goddess Yun-Harla, or as you know her by her human name, Jaina Solo.”
Kyp let out a peal of laughter. “Jaina, the Goddess Yun-Harla?” He put his tray back down on the table before he could drop it. “I heard you guys were a bunch of jokers, but please. What do you really need?”
Though Kyp wouldn’t have been able to identify amusement in a Gamorrean, Sharr definitely found no humor in the situation. Kyp glanced back and forth between the two. “Wait. You’re serious.”
“Indeed,” Piggy said gravely. “Her Greatness requires an audience to discuss how you will be meeting her daily needs. You are now to be her most trusted servant, able to see to her every whim.”
Kyp folded his arms. Now he was becoming less than amused. “She actually said that? She wants me to be her manservant?”
Piggy considered that for a moment. “More or less.”
“Meaning it wasn’t her idea?” Kyp asked.
The pair was silent. Piggy looked to Sharr, who shook his head. Something else was going on, but whatever it was, Kyp didn’t know. Finally Sharr said, “Her Exaltedness was acting under the suggestion of one of her advisors at the time.”
So that was it. Kyp set his jaw. “Don’t tell me. This advisor being a know-it-all Chiss pilot?”
Sharr broke his formal stance, looking relieved. He turned to Piggy. “See? I’m not the only one who finds the man insufferable.”
“Oh, no,” Kyp said, and spied a familiar figure entering the makeshift commissary. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not. Not by a long shot. Excuse me.”
Kyp moved past the two Wraiths, abandoning his tray for the time. He crossed the swath of tables between him and the serving line using long strides, and wished that he’d been wearing his black cloak. It would have been much more impressive for Jag Fel to see him approaching with that cloak billowing out behind him wondrously. Not to mention more intimidating, too.
He came up alongside the younger man, who must have glimpsed him in his peripheral vision, because Jag swiveled his head in his direction.
“Hello, Kyp. Something I can do for you?” he asked pleasantly.
Kyp raised a finger, about to lay into the man, and stopped. He had the nagging feeling that Jag was mustering all his power to keep a shit-eating, self-satisfied grin off his face. “This is your version of gloating, isn’t it? You think this is funny?”
In any other situation, Kyp would have given Jag credit for maintaining a superior sabacc face--then again, his normal expression pretty much was a sabacc face. Keeping his voice even, Jag answered, “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Perhaps you could explain what I would be gloating over?”
Kyp made an exasperated noise. “You think you’re something, don’t you? Having Jaina make me her manservant.”
The line moved forward, and Jag picked up a tray and utensils. “I would have thought you’d be happy. Your new assignment means she’ll be spending much more time with you, and less time with me. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”
“I’d prefer--” he began loudly, but at drawing looks from nearby personnel, he lowered his voice and started over. “I’d prefer you take an air pump and deflate your head a bit. And there’s nothing going on between me and Jaina, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, Kyp. Though I do believe that’s up to the Goddess to decide,” Jag said, and accepted a bowl of hot stew from one of the serving droids.
Kyp kept pace, fuming, his hands on his hips. So Jaina and the Wraiths had started some sort of game, going beyond the simple act of associating her with Yun-Harla, and Jag was playing along. Okay, he could play, too: but he’d make Jag eat his helmet for it, first. To Jag, he said, “You know, if you were this much of a smartass on a regular basis, we could maybe--possibly--be friends. And I stress the word ‘possibly.’”
Having finished getting his meal, Jag stepped out of the line, and turned to fully face him. “Friends? No. No, it’s much better this way.”
“So you want us to be rivals?”
“No,” Jag said. “That would mean we’re competing for something. I have no intentions of making an overture toward the Goddess’ affections. I merely do her bidding. Like you, but I imagine you’re much better suited for the kind of menial labor Her Exaltedness intends to assign you to. Nice talking with you, Kyp.”
Kyp gaped at the man’s cheeky behavior, and Jag breezed past him to settle down to his stew. He stood there like that, unable to move for some time, and almost didn’t notice when Sharr and Piggy rejoined him.
“You know,” Sharr began, speaking at a volume only they could hear, “we could make him disappear, if you wanted. We’re quite good at stuffing beings into tiny places too difficult to escape from.”
Kyp shook his head. “No, I get the feeling we’ll need his kind of tactics available if we’re to ever get off this rock.”
“It doesn’t have to be permanent,” Sharr pressed. “It could even be for a few hours.”
Kyp sighed, and turned to the other man. “No. Jaina--Her Greatness, I mean--would probably kill us.”
Sharr thought about that soberly, and nodded to Piggy. “We of inferior status take so much abuse. All right, you win. But I can’t promise I won’t try to slip some laxative into his food.”
That didn’t sound entirely unreasonable to Kyp, and he put out his hand to shake. “Deal.” He looked out across the commissary, eyes settling on Jag, and he let a self-satisfied grin of his own to stretch across his face. He then gave the two Wraiths a two-fingered salute. “Well gentlemen, it seems I’ve got a goddess to attend to. Was good conspiring with you both.”
With that, Kyp sauntered off, vowing to beat Jag Fel at his own game.
~Fin
Author: Latara the Ewok / batgirl_forever
Rating: G
Word count: 1330
Prompt: July 23rd--EU, Kyp Durron, Jaina Solo & Jag Fel: Kyp learning he has to be the "manservant" in NJO series.
Characters: Kyp Durron, Jagged Fel, Wraith Squadron
Summary: Kyp Durron is less than enthusiastic about his new job as a member of Twin Suns Squadron.
Betaed by: Jaina050 of the BC&T Boards on www.starwars.com. Thanks, Captain!
A/N: Not my characters, simply having fun in the sandbox. Takes place during Rebel Dream. Written for starwarsficfest 2008.
Minding his own business was a task Kyp Durron could do easily enough when he wanted, so he didn’t know why it was so difficult for everyone else. Being confined to the small biotics facility serving as the New Republic base on Borleais, though, put everyone in the other’s way, and when it came to meals, he just wanted to be left alone.
Finding an empty table on the edge of the commissary farthest from the meal line had been somewhat aggravating, but Kyp had hoped it would pay off in some needed peace. However, that didn’t stop a man in glaringly loud clothes--accompanied by a Gamorrean, of all beings--from walking straight up to his zone of solitude.
“Master Durron?” the man asked.
Kyp allowed his spoon to drop into his near-empty bowl of nerf stew. Until the man had addressed him by name, he’d rather hoped the two had simply been looking for company, which he could wave off with a particularly brooding fashion. Apparently, that wasn’t going to work. He sighed, and said, “Yes. What can I do for you?”
“My name is Sharr Latt,” said the man. “This is my associate, Voort saBinring, or Piggy, as we call him. We’re Wraiths.”
Appetite gone, Kyp crumpled his napkin into a ball, and jammed it in the bottom of his bowl, preparing to clear out. “Wraiths, huh? Don’t look invisible to me.”
“As if we have not heard that joke several dozen times,” Piggy commented, to Kyp’s surprise. The Gamorrean spoke through a voice synthesizer, which made the remark sound all the more dry. “We come on official business from the Great One.”
“Is that what Antilles is calling himself these days?” Kyp said with a smirk, and stood. He picked up his tray, hoping the two would catch on to the fact that he didn’t want to stick around.
Sharr and Piggy exchanged looks, and Sharr said, “No, we speak of the incarnate Goddess Yun-Harla, or as you know her by her human name, Jaina Solo.”
Kyp let out a peal of laughter. “Jaina, the Goddess Yun-Harla?” He put his tray back down on the table before he could drop it. “I heard you guys were a bunch of jokers, but please. What do you really need?”
Though Kyp wouldn’t have been able to identify amusement in a Gamorrean, Sharr definitely found no humor in the situation. Kyp glanced back and forth between the two. “Wait. You’re serious.”
“Indeed,” Piggy said gravely. “Her Greatness requires an audience to discuss how you will be meeting her daily needs. You are now to be her most trusted servant, able to see to her every whim.”
Kyp folded his arms. Now he was becoming less than amused. “She actually said that? She wants me to be her manservant?”
Piggy considered that for a moment. “More or less.”
“Meaning it wasn’t her idea?” Kyp asked.
The pair was silent. Piggy looked to Sharr, who shook his head. Something else was going on, but whatever it was, Kyp didn’t know. Finally Sharr said, “Her Exaltedness was acting under the suggestion of one of her advisors at the time.”
So that was it. Kyp set his jaw. “Don’t tell me. This advisor being a know-it-all Chiss pilot?”
Sharr broke his formal stance, looking relieved. He turned to Piggy. “See? I’m not the only one who finds the man insufferable.”
“Oh, no,” Kyp said, and spied a familiar figure entering the makeshift commissary. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not. Not by a long shot. Excuse me.”
Kyp moved past the two Wraiths, abandoning his tray for the time. He crossed the swath of tables between him and the serving line using long strides, and wished that he’d been wearing his black cloak. It would have been much more impressive for Jag Fel to see him approaching with that cloak billowing out behind him wondrously. Not to mention more intimidating, too.
He came up alongside the younger man, who must have glimpsed him in his peripheral vision, because Jag swiveled his head in his direction.
“Hello, Kyp. Something I can do for you?” he asked pleasantly.
Kyp raised a finger, about to lay into the man, and stopped. He had the nagging feeling that Jag was mustering all his power to keep a shit-eating, self-satisfied grin off his face. “This is your version of gloating, isn’t it? You think this is funny?”
In any other situation, Kyp would have given Jag credit for maintaining a superior sabacc face--then again, his normal expression pretty much was a sabacc face. Keeping his voice even, Jag answered, “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Perhaps you could explain what I would be gloating over?”
Kyp made an exasperated noise. “You think you’re something, don’t you? Having Jaina make me her manservant.”
The line moved forward, and Jag picked up a tray and utensils. “I would have thought you’d be happy. Your new assignment means she’ll be spending much more time with you, and less time with me. Wouldn’t you prefer that?”
“I’d prefer--” he began loudly, but at drawing looks from nearby personnel, he lowered his voice and started over. “I’d prefer you take an air pump and deflate your head a bit. And there’s nothing going on between me and Jaina, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, Kyp. Though I do believe that’s up to the Goddess to decide,” Jag said, and accepted a bowl of hot stew from one of the serving droids.
Kyp kept pace, fuming, his hands on his hips. So Jaina and the Wraiths had started some sort of game, going beyond the simple act of associating her with Yun-Harla, and Jag was playing along. Okay, he could play, too: but he’d make Jag eat his helmet for it, first. To Jag, he said, “You know, if you were this much of a smartass on a regular basis, we could maybe--possibly--be friends. And I stress the word ‘possibly.’”
Having finished getting his meal, Jag stepped out of the line, and turned to fully face him. “Friends? No. No, it’s much better this way.”
“So you want us to be rivals?”
“No,” Jag said. “That would mean we’re competing for something. I have no intentions of making an overture toward the Goddess’ affections. I merely do her bidding. Like you, but I imagine you’re much better suited for the kind of menial labor Her Exaltedness intends to assign you to. Nice talking with you, Kyp.”
Kyp gaped at the man’s cheeky behavior, and Jag breezed past him to settle down to his stew. He stood there like that, unable to move for some time, and almost didn’t notice when Sharr and Piggy rejoined him.
“You know,” Sharr began, speaking at a volume only they could hear, “we could make him disappear, if you wanted. We’re quite good at stuffing beings into tiny places too difficult to escape from.”
Kyp shook his head. “No, I get the feeling we’ll need his kind of tactics available if we’re to ever get off this rock.”
“It doesn’t have to be permanent,” Sharr pressed. “It could even be for a few hours.”
Kyp sighed, and turned to the other man. “No. Jaina--Her Greatness, I mean--would probably kill us.”
Sharr thought about that soberly, and nodded to Piggy. “We of inferior status take so much abuse. All right, you win. But I can’t promise I won’t try to slip some laxative into his food.”
That didn’t sound entirely unreasonable to Kyp, and he put out his hand to shake. “Deal.” He looked out across the commissary, eyes settling on Jag, and he let a self-satisfied grin of his own to stretch across his face. He then gave the two Wraiths a two-fingered salute. “Well gentlemen, it seems I’ve got a goddess to attend to. Was good conspiring with you both.”
With that, Kyp sauntered off, vowing to beat Jag Fel at his own game.
~Fin