Fic: Jenna's War: All Just Some Game (Star Wars)
Title: All Just Some Game
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: K+
Genres: gen
Recipient: sgteam14283
Prompt: Star Wars, Jenna Melara, Jenna Melara encounters a leader of the Rebels and is, well, Jenna.
Summary: What it says on the tin in the prompt :D
A/N: Holiday Fic Request Meme. Part of my Jenna's War series and taking place a bit farther down than what I posted on here. I haven't been writing Jenna for half an eternity (or at least that's what it feels like) and it was fun to encounter her again, this time through completely different eyes than usually. I did realize that I kind of miss her and maybe we'll encounter each other again next year. (and yes, if there's anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled for the rest of the series, it's probably best if you don't read this yet.)
All Just Some Game
“Is it all just some game, where everything stays the same?
Is it all in my, all in my, all in my head?”
Shawn Mullins, “All In My Head”
In hindsight, she should have known something like this would happen. But then again, Leia Organa is still a diplomat, a politician, often a warrior. Not a commander. Not often enough but at least that she should have known that no commander reacts well to some of their soldiers taken without their consent. Or taken with only their technical consent.
It’s a moot point, anyway. She requested infantry troops and because no Special Forces troops had been available, she’d been given regular infantry. Half a platoon, to cover the op she’s been planning with Luke for three months now and she really should have known that the soldiers’ commander would like to have a say about this.
She just hadn’t expected said commander assailing her the moment she entered the hangar after convincing Solo to face the deck officer on his own. Leia Organa just hadn’t expected to be charged at by a human female with strands of long red hair flying behind her shouting in the voice of someone used to having to be louder than plasma canons, “Where is that idiot human or otherwise being that commandeered my soldiers?”
It takes her a moment to realize that the person running towards her is looking suspiciously like she just got out of bed and another to realize that there’s someone - male, human, wearing an Alliance infantry uniform - following her, trying to... tackle her? What... “You! You’re the one they gave my soldiers to without even asking me! How dare you...”
“Jenna, don’t!” Wait. She knows that voice. And now that he’s closer she recognizes him. Or at least the guy looks familiar enough that she knows she should know who he is.
Up close, “Jenna” looks even more like she just got up. Her hair is in something that probably was a braid down her back and is in disarray now, the tank top and the long slacks are rumbled and one of the tank top’s halters looks like it’s going to slip off her shoulder any minute. “Fuck “Jenna don’t!”, Corporal! Ittina Squad are my troops and no one is going to...”
“It’s Princess Leia, dammit!” Yes, definitely familiar, that one. Not Alderaan, if his accent is any indication but definitely not Outer Rim, either. Imperial aligned, judging from the slight nasal touch to it, very faint and...
“Yes, that’s right, Princess Leia Organa. Princess Leia Organa wants to endanger my soldiers’ lives and doesn’t even deem that important enough to ask me before and...”
“Jenna! You’re talking to Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Would you please start listening to me!” Actually, his accent sounds just a little like the Moff they installed on Chandrila. Just this close to remembering where she knows the Corporal from.
However, right now, “Jenna’s” face is a lot more interesting than pondering where she knows some Corporal or other from. “Yes, I know that this is.... It’s... I’m... Uh...” Fascinating how well one can see when exactly the woman in front of her realizes who she just shouted at. Fascinating also how on his face smugness is spreading as fast as embarrassment is on hers.
“Your Highness,” oh wait, that’s her now. He’s talking to her and something in his manner... “please excuse us for a moment.” Huh. With growing amusement, she watches the Corporal taking “Jenna” - his superior, probably - by the arm and leading her away. They’re talking in hushed tones and now that she isn’t the direct recipient of murderous glares anymore she starts wondering where the hell Captain Solo and his Wookiee sidekick are and why Luke’s X-Wing hasn’t landed yet in the frigate’s hangar. Probably, she guesses with another look at a now rather red-faced young woman trying not to meet her eyes, all three of them felt female ire, either through the Force or sheer idiot's luck and decided to stay as far away as possible as long as this isn’t solved.
Anyway, there’s still talking going on and by accident - she didn’t listen in because Princess Leia Organa never listens in to anyone - she hears fragments, hears her say “... like a bleeding idiot” and him say “... could happen to anyone” and she wonders again what their relationship is and who they are. Until the Corporal turns around and does something that looks like... a court approved little bow and finally the bells go ringing.
Xanas Farrayn. A 13 year old, lanky, a little shy, minor Eiattu nobility, one of her many cousins of varying degree around the galaxy. She had a crush on him when she was seven. An 18 year old, coming to Alderaan for scientific summer school, paying her parents his respects out of complicated family relationship rules, not so shy anymore. A twenty year old, one of many faces in the news, dead after the transport he was on exploded in a freak accident. He shouldn’t be here.
She blinks. “Your Highness?” Again. “May I introduce you to each other?” You shouldn’t be here. She nearly says that.
“Of course… Corporal.” It’s stupid, she knows. She shouldn’t remember him. She had hundreds of crushes when she was seven and he wasn’t the only one who paid her parents his respect and he wasn’t the only one dying in freak accidents. But right now, right here he’s the closest thing she has to family. It’s ridiculous, really.
Xanas bows again and she wonders where he’s been since he died… disappeared and if he knows that his parents are only pretending that they hate him for dying. “Your Highness, please meet Captain Jenna Melara of Chandrila, commanding officer of Krayt company.”
Melara. Another name ringing bells. She makes a mental note to notify Mon Mothma. The Alliance leader keeps scrupulous tracks of every Chandrilan serving in the Rebellion. “Jen… Captain Melara, please meet Her Royal Highness Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan.”
Every time someone introduces her like that, something in her wants to squirm and shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. Even more so when the person she was introduced to is blushing so hard that she could outshine Tatooine’s suns. “I uh feel very honored, Your Highness.” She’s sure Captain Melara does. Everyone always does when being introduced to her. The thing that commends her to Melara is that she only sees embarrassment and weariness and contrition for her earlier charge in the Captain’s eyes. No pity, no sympathy, not even questions. She’s so tired of people remembering Alderaan.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” The pleasure at seeing Captain Melara blush is clearly visible in Corporal Farrayn’s face. “A pleasure to meet you, too, cousin Xanas.” Until it is replaced by shock. The gratification of seeing him blush more deeply than Melara somehow resembles the one she always feels when someone wipes Solo’s smirk off his face. She just can’t stand obnoxious male beings trying to get the best of females. Or really anyone.
There’s an interesting exchange of looks going on between the Captain and her Corporal, speaking of a intimateness between the two that took either years of knowing each other or having fought through more than one battle together. Seeing as they are from fundamentally different worlds, she suspects the latter.
She tries to decipher the looks too and is pretty sure that what they're saying is “What else haven’t you told me?” and “I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want you to know.” because they’re looking exactly like her parents did whenever they were silently arguing. The stab of pain it gives her is so bad because it comes so unexpected. They always do and they always hurt like hell. She should be used to them by now.
Melara does her the favor of recovering from her embarrassment well enough to be professional in sleepwear and bed hair after a few seconds. “Why did you requisition my troops?” A pause. A blink. “Ma’am.”
She’ll let this one go by. Technically, she isn’t even really Rebel military, standing outside any kind of hierarchy. Sometimes she thinks she’s more their figure head than a real leader. She hates it all the time. “Commander Skywalker and I are planning a mission on Korbin and we need infantry support with experience in urban warfare and underground fighting. Special Forces Command said all recon and SpecForces units in the sector were busy so I asked for regular infantry. Your company was said to be the only one available.”
This wasn’t necessary. Outside the Rebel military hierarchy or not, a princess of Alderaan doesn’t have to explain herself to a mere infantry captain. Which is why she did it. Saying it out loud made very clear why Melara is pissed as hell at her or her chain of command or just the universe. It’s pretty visible how hard it must be for the Captain not to dress her down as she probably does with her rookies. “The reason why my company is “available”, ma’am, is that we don’t have the numbers to be counted as combat ready. Actually we’re not combat ready at all.”
She hadn’t expected that. She’d known that the division Melara serves in fought in the battle of Naboo and suffered substantial damage to personnel and material but until now she hadn’t really intellectually comprehended what it had meant for the company grade officers… for the squad leaders and the individual soldiers. Suddenly she’s pissed off, too. At herself and Jenna Melara’s chain of command and at the universe. “Captain, I’d like to…”
“I’m coming with you.” What? How did they get from “How dare you requisition my soldiers to “I’m coming with you.”?
“No you’re not.” That is… interesting. Even more than Xanas Farrayn trying to topple down his commanding officer. That might have been the usual concern emanating from NCOs that their CO is going to do something very stupid. Telling her outright not to do something right in front of a dignitary that might very well be a superior, too… that’s stupid. She always thought his branch of her extended extended family was said to be pretty smart.
Melara seems to think something along the same line. “Excuse me?”
Xanas is almost squirming and she gets an inkling of how Melara rules her company. And why she wants to risk her life accompanying them on a mission that shouldn’t even have been theirs in the first place. She wonders if Melara’s commanding officer knows what an asset he or she has in their unit. “There’s no spot left and…”
“I’ll take Thuiv’s spot.” It’s almost as if she isn’t here. She could just turn around and go looking to see what’s taking Captain Solo and Chewbacca so long in the deck officer’s office and they wouldn’t even notice it, she’s sure of that. “He’s still fuck… messed up from Naboo and he needs the rest.” Or maybe they would. At least Captain Melara seems to be fully aware of the fact there’s a princess present. She’s sure that it’s the only situation that infantry soldiers would be watching their mouths. “I’m going on that mission. And there’s nothing you can do against it, Corporal Farrayn.”
There are people who would have made it sound childish, a challenge to a playmate to see if they dared to counteract. Jenna Melara managed to make it sound like a command, forbidding any challenging. There’s a visible change in Xanas’ stance. Like he just shifted into soldier mode for a moment and then back into whatever else he is for Melara. “Fine. See if I care.”
It’s a nice exit, huffed and a little sulky, with underlying worry and she choose not to dwell on why she knows that so exactly. She concentrates on Melara for a moment, realizing that despite the way she made it unmistakably clear that she can do very much everything she pleases to as a company commander, she’s afraid of having hurt Xanas in any way. Maybe that’s why she feels compelled to say, “I think he cares quite a lot.”
It looks like Melara is about to try looking like she doesn’t know what that demanding princess is talking about but then she seems to have decided to simply turn away and look into the direction Xanas disappeared into, saying a little absentmindedly, “I prefer not to dwell on it too much.”
That’s an… interesting answer. Not the one she expected - outright fury or denial that’s hard to believe - and not the one she’d been hoping for - she’s not sure what she was hoping for - but an interesting one. And something she can… understand, actually. “I see.”
Melara turns back to her, her eyebrows raised, looking old for a moment and asking, “Do you?”
She’s about to answer, tell Melara something about X-Wing pilots and smugglers and nights on the Falcon wondering what she’s doing there again when Solo barks across the entire hangar, “Would Your Worship please care to tell that idiot of a deck officer that my ship is not “too shabby to park on his deck”? I’d most appreciate it.”
She’s had it with him, again. She’s always had it with him and she’s tired of it. She wishes she’d know what it is that makes her bite back every time he got on her nerves instead of just ignoring him like she usually does with idiots. She really should do so now, too. Only it’s much easier turning around to Solo and telling him, “I’m sure you can solve your issues without any female help, Captain Solo. You keep telling me that at every possible moment, after all,” with that special disdain she only reserves for him. She shouldn’t do that, either.
Solo is gearing up for a reply she just doesn’t want to deal with now when Melara cocks her head to the side just a little and then asks, with real interest and pointedly ignoring Solo , “Would you care for some kark… delicious coffee from the mess hall while we talk the details of our mission over, Your Highness?”
This is not what she pictured of how this would end when Melara came charging at her, yelling on top of her voice and something, probably the relief that Melara didn’t shoot her, or the fact that Solo is charging at her now makes her smile a genuine smile - as opposed to her politician’s smile that’s too deeply ingrained into her muscle memory that she would ever forget it - and say, “Yes, please and it’s Leia.”
Melara’s face changes into something that… is a smile, too and something tells her smiling doesn’t come easy to this woman naturally so she’s glad Melara made the effort. That doesn’t bode half bad for the mission they’ll both go on in a couple of hours. It’s more than she asked for so she must have done something right. That’s more than Solo can say of himself right now and she wonders if Melara feels the same ridiculous satisfaction at besting Xanas that she feels at having bested Solo. This promises to get interesting for sure.
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: K+
Genres: gen
Recipient: sgteam14283
Prompt: Star Wars, Jenna Melara, Jenna Melara encounters a leader of the Rebels and is, well, Jenna.
Summary: What it says on the tin in the prompt :D
A/N: Holiday Fic Request Meme. Part of my Jenna's War series and taking place a bit farther down than what I posted on here. I haven't been writing Jenna for half an eternity (or at least that's what it feels like) and it was fun to encounter her again, this time through completely different eyes than usually. I did realize that I kind of miss her and maybe we'll encounter each other again next year. (and yes, if there's anyone who doesn't want to be spoiled for the rest of the series, it's probably best if you don't read this yet.)
All Just Some Game
“Is it all just some game, where everything stays the same?
Is it all in my, all in my, all in my head?”
Shawn Mullins, “All In My Head”
In hindsight, she should have known something like this would happen. But then again, Leia Organa is still a diplomat, a politician, often a warrior. Not a commander. Not often enough but at least that she should have known that no commander reacts well to some of their soldiers taken without their consent. Or taken with only their technical consent.
It’s a moot point, anyway. She requested infantry troops and because no Special Forces troops had been available, she’d been given regular infantry. Half a platoon, to cover the op she’s been planning with Luke for three months now and she really should have known that the soldiers’ commander would like to have a say about this.
She just hadn’t expected said commander assailing her the moment she entered the hangar after convincing Solo to face the deck officer on his own. Leia Organa just hadn’t expected to be charged at by a human female with strands of long red hair flying behind her shouting in the voice of someone used to having to be louder than plasma canons, “Where is that idiot human or otherwise being that commandeered my soldiers?”
It takes her a moment to realize that the person running towards her is looking suspiciously like she just got out of bed and another to realize that there’s someone - male, human, wearing an Alliance infantry uniform - following her, trying to... tackle her? What... “You! You’re the one they gave my soldiers to without even asking me! How dare you...”
“Jenna, don’t!” Wait. She knows that voice. And now that he’s closer she recognizes him. Or at least the guy looks familiar enough that she knows she should know who he is.
Up close, “Jenna” looks even more like she just got up. Her hair is in something that probably was a braid down her back and is in disarray now, the tank top and the long slacks are rumbled and one of the tank top’s halters looks like it’s going to slip off her shoulder any minute. “Fuck “Jenna don’t!”, Corporal! Ittina Squad are my troops and no one is going to...”
“It’s Princess Leia, dammit!” Yes, definitely familiar, that one. Not Alderaan, if his accent is any indication but definitely not Outer Rim, either. Imperial aligned, judging from the slight nasal touch to it, very faint and...
“Yes, that’s right, Princess Leia Organa. Princess Leia Organa wants to endanger my soldiers’ lives and doesn’t even deem that important enough to ask me before and...”
“Jenna! You’re talking to Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan. Would you please start listening to me!” Actually, his accent sounds just a little like the Moff they installed on Chandrila. Just this close to remembering where she knows the Corporal from.
However, right now, “Jenna’s” face is a lot more interesting than pondering where she knows some Corporal or other from. “Yes, I know that this is.... It’s... I’m... Uh...” Fascinating how well one can see when exactly the woman in front of her realizes who she just shouted at. Fascinating also how on his face smugness is spreading as fast as embarrassment is on hers.
“Your Highness,” oh wait, that’s her now. He’s talking to her and something in his manner... “please excuse us for a moment.” Huh. With growing amusement, she watches the Corporal taking “Jenna” - his superior, probably - by the arm and leading her away. They’re talking in hushed tones and now that she isn’t the direct recipient of murderous glares anymore she starts wondering where the hell Captain Solo and his Wookiee sidekick are and why Luke’s X-Wing hasn’t landed yet in the frigate’s hangar. Probably, she guesses with another look at a now rather red-faced young woman trying not to meet her eyes, all three of them felt female ire, either through the Force or sheer idiot's luck and decided to stay as far away as possible as long as this isn’t solved.
Anyway, there’s still talking going on and by accident - she didn’t listen in because Princess Leia Organa never listens in to anyone - she hears fragments, hears her say “... like a bleeding idiot” and him say “... could happen to anyone” and she wonders again what their relationship is and who they are. Until the Corporal turns around and does something that looks like... a court approved little bow and finally the bells go ringing.
Xanas Farrayn. A 13 year old, lanky, a little shy, minor Eiattu nobility, one of her many cousins of varying degree around the galaxy. She had a crush on him when she was seven. An 18 year old, coming to Alderaan for scientific summer school, paying her parents his respects out of complicated family relationship rules, not so shy anymore. A twenty year old, one of many faces in the news, dead after the transport he was on exploded in a freak accident. He shouldn’t be here.
She blinks. “Your Highness?” Again. “May I introduce you to each other?” You shouldn’t be here. She nearly says that.
“Of course… Corporal.” It’s stupid, she knows. She shouldn’t remember him. She had hundreds of crushes when she was seven and he wasn’t the only one who paid her parents his respect and he wasn’t the only one dying in freak accidents. But right now, right here he’s the closest thing she has to family. It’s ridiculous, really.
Xanas bows again and she wonders where he’s been since he died… disappeared and if he knows that his parents are only pretending that they hate him for dying. “Your Highness, please meet Captain Jenna Melara of Chandrila, commanding officer of Krayt company.”
Melara. Another name ringing bells. She makes a mental note to notify Mon Mothma. The Alliance leader keeps scrupulous tracks of every Chandrilan serving in the Rebellion. “Jen… Captain Melara, please meet Her Royal Highness Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan.”
Every time someone introduces her like that, something in her wants to squirm and shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. Even more so when the person she was introduced to is blushing so hard that she could outshine Tatooine’s suns. “I uh feel very honored, Your Highness.” She’s sure Captain Melara does. Everyone always does when being introduced to her. The thing that commends her to Melara is that she only sees embarrassment and weariness and contrition for her earlier charge in the Captain’s eyes. No pity, no sympathy, not even questions. She’s so tired of people remembering Alderaan.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” The pleasure at seeing Captain Melara blush is clearly visible in Corporal Farrayn’s face. “A pleasure to meet you, too, cousin Xanas.” Until it is replaced by shock. The gratification of seeing him blush more deeply than Melara somehow resembles the one she always feels when someone wipes Solo’s smirk off his face. She just can’t stand obnoxious male beings trying to get the best of females. Or really anyone.
There’s an interesting exchange of looks going on between the Captain and her Corporal, speaking of a intimateness between the two that took either years of knowing each other or having fought through more than one battle together. Seeing as they are from fundamentally different worlds, she suspects the latter.
She tries to decipher the looks too and is pretty sure that what they're saying is “What else haven’t you told me?” and “I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want you to know.” because they’re looking exactly like her parents did whenever they were silently arguing. The stab of pain it gives her is so bad because it comes so unexpected. They always do and they always hurt like hell. She should be used to them by now.
Melara does her the favor of recovering from her embarrassment well enough to be professional in sleepwear and bed hair after a few seconds. “Why did you requisition my troops?” A pause. A blink. “Ma’am.”
She’ll let this one go by. Technically, she isn’t even really Rebel military, standing outside any kind of hierarchy. Sometimes she thinks she’s more their figure head than a real leader. She hates it all the time. “Commander Skywalker and I are planning a mission on Korbin and we need infantry support with experience in urban warfare and underground fighting. Special Forces Command said all recon and SpecForces units in the sector were busy so I asked for regular infantry. Your company was said to be the only one available.”
This wasn’t necessary. Outside the Rebel military hierarchy or not, a princess of Alderaan doesn’t have to explain herself to a mere infantry captain. Which is why she did it. Saying it out loud made very clear why Melara is pissed as hell at her or her chain of command or just the universe. It’s pretty visible how hard it must be for the Captain not to dress her down as she probably does with her rookies. “The reason why my company is “available”, ma’am, is that we don’t have the numbers to be counted as combat ready. Actually we’re not combat ready at all.”
She hadn’t expected that. She’d known that the division Melara serves in fought in the battle of Naboo and suffered substantial damage to personnel and material but until now she hadn’t really intellectually comprehended what it had meant for the company grade officers… for the squad leaders and the individual soldiers. Suddenly she’s pissed off, too. At herself and Jenna Melara’s chain of command and at the universe. “Captain, I’d like to…”
“I’m coming with you.” What? How did they get from “How dare you requisition my soldiers to “I’m coming with you.”?
“No you’re not.” That is… interesting. Even more than Xanas Farrayn trying to topple down his commanding officer. That might have been the usual concern emanating from NCOs that their CO is going to do something very stupid. Telling her outright not to do something right in front of a dignitary that might very well be a superior, too… that’s stupid. She always thought his branch of her extended extended family was said to be pretty smart.
Melara seems to think something along the same line. “Excuse me?”
Xanas is almost squirming and she gets an inkling of how Melara rules her company. And why she wants to risk her life accompanying them on a mission that shouldn’t even have been theirs in the first place. She wonders if Melara’s commanding officer knows what an asset he or she has in their unit. “There’s no spot left and…”
“I’ll take Thuiv’s spot.” It’s almost as if she isn’t here. She could just turn around and go looking to see what’s taking Captain Solo and Chewbacca so long in the deck officer’s office and they wouldn’t even notice it, she’s sure of that. “He’s still fuck… messed up from Naboo and he needs the rest.” Or maybe they would. At least Captain Melara seems to be fully aware of the fact there’s a princess present. She’s sure that it’s the only situation that infantry soldiers would be watching their mouths. “I’m going on that mission. And there’s nothing you can do against it, Corporal Farrayn.”
There are people who would have made it sound childish, a challenge to a playmate to see if they dared to counteract. Jenna Melara managed to make it sound like a command, forbidding any challenging. There’s a visible change in Xanas’ stance. Like he just shifted into soldier mode for a moment and then back into whatever else he is for Melara. “Fine. See if I care.”
It’s a nice exit, huffed and a little sulky, with underlying worry and she choose not to dwell on why she knows that so exactly. She concentrates on Melara for a moment, realizing that despite the way she made it unmistakably clear that she can do very much everything she pleases to as a company commander, she’s afraid of having hurt Xanas in any way. Maybe that’s why she feels compelled to say, “I think he cares quite a lot.”
It looks like Melara is about to try looking like she doesn’t know what that demanding princess is talking about but then she seems to have decided to simply turn away and look into the direction Xanas disappeared into, saying a little absentmindedly, “I prefer not to dwell on it too much.”
That’s an… interesting answer. Not the one she expected - outright fury or denial that’s hard to believe - and not the one she’d been hoping for - she’s not sure what she was hoping for - but an interesting one. And something she can… understand, actually. “I see.”
Melara turns back to her, her eyebrows raised, looking old for a moment and asking, “Do you?”
She’s about to answer, tell Melara something about X-Wing pilots and smugglers and nights on the Falcon wondering what she’s doing there again when Solo barks across the entire hangar, “Would Your Worship please care to tell that idiot of a deck officer that my ship is not “too shabby to park on his deck”? I’d most appreciate it.”
She’s had it with him, again. She’s always had it with him and she’s tired of it. She wishes she’d know what it is that makes her bite back every time he got on her nerves instead of just ignoring him like she usually does with idiots. She really should do so now, too. Only it’s much easier turning around to Solo and telling him, “I’m sure you can solve your issues without any female help, Captain Solo. You keep telling me that at every possible moment, after all,” with that special disdain she only reserves for him. She shouldn’t do that, either.
Solo is gearing up for a reply she just doesn’t want to deal with now when Melara cocks her head to the side just a little and then asks, with real interest and pointedly ignoring Solo , “Would you care for some kark… delicious coffee from the mess hall while we talk the details of our mission over, Your Highness?”
This is not what she pictured of how this would end when Melara came charging at her, yelling on top of her voice and something, probably the relief that Melara didn’t shoot her, or the fact that Solo is charging at her now makes her smile a genuine smile - as opposed to her politician’s smile that’s too deeply ingrained into her muscle memory that she would ever forget it - and say, “Yes, please and it’s Leia.”
Melara’s face changes into something that… is a smile, too and something tells her smiling doesn’t come easy to this woman naturally so she’s glad Melara made the effort. That doesn’t bode half bad for the mission they’ll both go on in a couple of hours. It’s more than she asked for so she must have done something right. That’s more than Solo can say of himself right now and she wonders if Melara feels the same ridiculous satisfaction at besting Xanas that she feels at having bested Solo. This promises to get interesting for sure.