I guess it’s kind of boring of me to start out this way, but here we go anyway:

Hey there. I’m Jaina Solo.

Some of you might have heard of me, if not through tales of my own adventures, then most definitely through my rather star-studded family. I was born in 9 ABY to the smuggler-turned-Rebel fighter Han Solo and princess-turned-senator-turned-Rebel-turned-diplomat-turned-Chief-of-State-turned-Jedi Knight Leia Organa Solo (kriff, that’s a mouthful—or a fingerful, as it were). In the very unlikely case that you’ve never heard of them, I’d be extremely surprised if you hadn’t at least caught word of my uncle Luke.

That’s right, the Jedi Grand Master, always-saving-the-galaxy Luke Skywalker. No imitations accepted.

Adding to our already crazy family is my twin brother, Jacen, and late younger brother, Anakin. Then of course you can’t forget my former master and (also late) aunt, Mara Jade, and cousin Ben, not to mention the constant presences that are the droids R2-D2 and C3P0.

But, I digress. This is supposed to be about me.

I don’t know if I really know where in the nine Corellian hells to start on me, to be honest with you. I’ve been a whole lot of things already in a considerably short life—I’m a daughter, a twin, a sister, a cousin, a niece, a friend, a lover… That’s a lot to juggle in thirty-two years, and I’m not even finished yet. On top of all that, I’ve been a Jedi Knight (the Sword of the Jedi, as it would happen), a pilot, a lieutenant colonel in the Galactic Alliance military, a goddess, a Joiner, and a million and a half other things that it’d take millennia to list out.

All of those things are critical components in my make up, and all of those things mean a lot to me—all except for one: being a twin.

I don’t care about being a twin anymore; or rather, I can’t afford to care. If I care too much, it’ll be that much harder to kill him when the time comes.

Kriff. Getting all serious here, aren’t I?

I’m a pretty serious person nowadays, though. I remember vaguely a time when I used to be more carefree, but that was before the Yuuzhan Vong invaded the galaxy and stole away my little brother, as well as what childhood I had left. Of course I managed to lead a relatively happy life after I came to terms with Anakin’s death, but it’s never been quite the same as when I was a kid. In my days at the Jedi Academy, I was silly, naïve, happy, no idea of what the rest of my life was to bring, but after the Vong invasion it seems like the only real traits I retained were the bad ones. I’m still rash, I’ve still got an insane temper… Only my adulthood seems to have added to the bad traits, namely my unique ability at being absolutely love-resistant.

Yeah, I’ve had a few love interests in my lifetime. There’s of course always been my childhood friend and Jedi partner Zekk. We’ve been through so much together and he’s quite possibly the best friend I’ll ever have, but I can’t stand the way he chases after me even when I’ve made it clear I’m not interested. You want to know a secret? I am interested, and I even let him know it after he decided he was over me for good, but now that Jag’s shown up again, though, he’s back at it again like a little kid and—

--oh yeah, I should probably explain who Jag is before I go much further. Jag, or Jagged Fel, is a Corellian who grew up in a Chiss world, and who was previously my boyfriend throughout the majority of the war with the Vong. He’s a little uptight, but a good, sometimes even humorous person when you get underneath it all, and an ace pilot to boot. Until he showed up again just recently, we hadn’t seen each other for years, not since my mom shot him down over a battlefield, and let me tell you—the reunion wasn’t the warmest. But since then, throughout all his claiming that he’s no longer interested in me, he’s really warmed up again… and like I said, he and Zekk sort of give themselves away, what with the bickering like a couple of younglings all day long.

Also worth mentioning in the love department is Kyp Durron, too—Master Kyp Durron, so sorry—but whatever we had was a passing thing that went nowhere. I’ll always be thankful to him for pulling me back from the dark side, but honestly? I could never see myself with him, not now. Not only is he way too close a friend of my father for that to ever be comfortable, but he’s not my type. We’re too alike in our rashness and anger, and I think together we’d probably cause the galaxy to implode upon itself.

At the moment, though, it doesn’t matter because I can’t afford to let me see myself with anyone. I’ve often questioned myself, questioned if being the Sword of the Jedi means that I’m not meant to be loved, and that’s the conclusion I’ve finally been able to accept. I don’t have time for any of them, at least not while my Sith Lord of a twin brother is out trying to take over the galaxy. If I know Jacen (which I feel as if I don’t anymore, but that’s something else entirely), I’m not going to get the time off to engage in that sort of luxury any time soon. I’ve got to stop his reign of terror, avenge Aunt Mara’s death, and make sure that he goes down and stays down.

Who am I? I am Jaina Solo. I am a sword unsheathed.

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