How quietly we whisper, how loudly we sing.
"I never trusted you." An accusation.
"Big surprise." Indifference. Coupled with sarcasm. "It's not like you tried to hide it." The scoundrel chuckled.
Glaring at him, the Handmaiden clenched her double-bladed lightsaber.
Unconcerned by the animosity he felt from the woman behind him, Atton continued checking the controls of the Ebon Hawk. Out the viewport, hyperspace streaked past, an endless azure tunnel that danced hypnotically with unknown forces all around the ship.
"You don't seem all that sorry about killing Jedi." Her voice rose a fraction.
"Really."
Handmaiden's eyes narrowed further still. How dare he? How dare he sit there and brush his past off so easily? Her grip on her saber tightened, causing her hand to shudder. "You are no better than a Sith."
"Quite."
"And you – what?" Had he just agreed with her? "What?" she repeated, caught off guard.
Atton sighed and half turned, putting his arm on the seat back and looking up at her with steady eyes. "Look, I may not have been the Galaxy's Nicest Individual in my past, but that's just it. My past is in the past. What matters is the now."
"Do you expect me to believe that?" she snarled.
"Those aren't my words." Atton's gaze flickered to the saber in her hands. "They're from the guy who taught you how to use that thing. After all," he continued, meeting her eyes once more. "He'd know more about redemption than either of us…"
She didn't know what to say.
A/N: More will follow.