Dulce et decorum est pro patriamori (Translation)- It is sweet and good to die for your country. Author- Neobi Disclaimer: I do not own Lucas Industries, though I wish I did. Version: Longer and improved Note: I got caught up into the moving Music began to play in the background signaling Jagged Fel to turn around. At the end aisle two giant doors opened. Jag released a breath he had not known he had been holding. Two figures stood in the door frame, which had been styled after traditional Happian architecture. The two began to walk. The taller one had white hair with a few darker strands still there from better times. Wrinkles ran across his forehead. Han Solo, Jag had gotten to know him very well in the last few months since his and Jaina?s engagement. But now in this moment the seasoned smuggler looked older. Yet Jag could see in his eyes a twinkle of happiness and pride as he walked. His eyes began to drift off his future father-in-law to look upon his bride to be. Her brown hair cascaded down her back and had been curled slightly at the ends. A thin shimmer-silk veil covered her hair and outlined her face. On top her head, to hold the veil in place, was a small circlet of gold. Half way down the aisle red and blue flowers began to fall around her, giving the entire event a surreal look to it. Gently taking her hand from her father he turned and escorted her up the few stairs to stand in front of his uncle. Everything became fuzzy for Jag, everything except her. It took a while for him to take his vows. ?I Jagged Fel take thee, Jaina Solo as my wife to honor and cherish from this day forth as long as we both shall live.? Forcing himself back to reality Jag pulled the leaver to exit hyperspace, soon he began to daydream again? Moon light trickled in through the window as he looked upon her sleeping form. Her milky white skin was soft and warm when he touched her. Looking at her face Jag sighed. ?You?re an angel Jaina,? he said softly so as not to wake her. ?And you?re my angel.? It was then Jag knew he couldn?t live without her. Jaina was his oxygen, his soul. With a sigh of contentment Jag came back to reality. All that had been a month ago. Nothing had changed since then? ?except Jaina had died. A jolt of pain ran through his heart as he admitted her death to himself once more. Never again would he be able to look upon her beautiful face nor would he be able to touch her soft and warm milky white skin. Though Jag had not had not cried, nor grieved, nor let his emotions show he felt her death everyday. And everyday he had fought on for the Republic; as he knew she would have. Jaina had given her life to save her government, her country. Jag strived to keep what she had died for. To make sure she did not die in vain; to insure that she lived on in the memories and hearts of those she had saved. A hard jolt to his claw craft made him focus on the space around him. They were being attached by coral skips that were protecting a warship. Kyp?s voice cracked as he spoke through the comm., ?The war master?s on that ship!? Jag ran what he new about the warship?s design through his head. If a big enough explosion happened right under that? yes I think that might just work. Jag?s fighter rolled to the left to avoid being hit. As an eerie wave of calm washed over him he knew that he could not be there to see her achievements live on. But he could make sure the Republic she loved so much survived. Gently moving the controls he brought his fighter out of the roll and set it straight for the warship. Moments before the two ships hit Jag closed his eyes and whispered, ?I?m coming Jaina.?