Disclaimer: I do not own KotoR. Unfortunately for me.

Nothing to Offer

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"He is a fool, and that should answer your questions. He has nothing to offer one such as you - and even a fool such as Atton is not ignorant of that fact." - Darth Traya, to the Exile

Atton watched ruefully as the Disciple and the Exile sat down and lost themselves in something he could never understand. It was odd to see her so still; normally, she was a fierce Jedi who ate Sith for breakfast and spat out the bones like muja seeds. He rarely got to see this pensive, more complex side of her. Not that he was supposed to be looking.

"Meditation envy?"

"Go sit on a rocket," he muttered. Atton didn't even have to turn to know it was Mira. Why couldn't the mousy redhead just leave him alone? "Don't you have anyone better to bother?"

"Trust me, you're the most fun."

Atton snorted. How lucky for him. Lately, the ship was more crowded than the Refugee Sector on a rainy day. He didn't like it, but he put up with it for the Exile's sake.

"It'll take more than that to make me leave."

"Go away, please?" He snapped sarcastically.

The bounty hunter just grinned at him. "See? This is fun."

Atton ignored her and concentrated on the Exile's face to soothe his resentment. Once upon a time, he would've let the anger fuel him, consume him. The scoundrel used to think he controlled it when it was really the other way around. He'd changed a lot since meeting Kari. Changed for her.

But of course, Mira couldn't just keep her mouth shut. "You know Atton, sometimes it's no wonder you can't figure yourself out the way you lie to yourself all the time. I've hunted a lot of people in my line of work, but I've never met someone who wants to get lost more than you. I've got a pretty good idea why, but not the whole picture. I will, though."

So now she thought she had him figured out? What was her problem?

Mira continued, "My advice? Come clean before I find out. And stop watching her. She's got enough problems."

Atton watched her leave, fuming silently.

Kari's eyes were closed. She looked...peaceful. The scoundrel stole a glance at the Disciple and felt a twinge of jealousy. Blondie was a gentleman of the Republic, through and through. He'd never slaughter more Jedi than he could count or batter their minds until their spirits broke...

Why couldn't Atton do something like that? Give something – anything – back to her when she had given him so much?

Because he was useless.

The realization sent him reeling, even though he had known it, subconsciously, all along.

She was stronger and faster than him. She could do things with her mind alone that mystified him. He couldn't teach her anything; she was better than him in every single way.

It used to be just him, Kari and the old witch. But ever since Telos, she started befriending people left and right and Atton wasn't used to playing well with others. At first, he barely minded having to share her special smile that had once belonged only to him. Kari would bring him on the occasional jaunt outside of the ship, but this was happening less and less. Atton didn't want to be left alone on the Ebon Hawk. Abandoned.

He treasured every pazaak game he and the Exile played on the long routes through hyperspace. He let her win just to see her face light up and keep playing. He wanted to keep her with him, as much as he knew she would never belong at his side. Cards were the only thing Atton was good for. He hoped she never suspected the real game.

But at least he was the pilot. Being needed was almost as good as being wanted. And being wanted was almost as good as being loved.

Kari and the Disciple opened their eyes slowly, as though they had been in a deep sleep. The scoundrel retreated into the shadows, just as he had done all his life – never showing anyone who or what he really was. It turned out he needn't have; all they saw was each other. They laughed, but Atton didn't get the joke.

Feeling a little sick, he walked quietly back to the cockpit. With the Sith, he'd been encouraged to look after himself first. In his smuggling career, Atton spent long hours aboard a ship with only crates of spice for company. He only ever dealt with his clients and his boss, none of which he trusted as far as he could throw them (not that he could even pick up a Hutt).

But he didn't want to be alone anymore. He wanted to be with her, where he could love her instead of hating himself for what he was.

"Hey, Atton. How about a game of pazaak?" She stood at the cockpit entrance with her usual smile.

"Sure thing. I'll deal." He watched as Kari picked up her hand. The corner of her mouth twitched and he hid a grin. Who needed Jedi mind tricks when he could read her so easily?

The scoundrel remembered a time when she had picked his thoughts right out of his head. She had promised him he would never do it again, but Atton wondered if she had meant it.

I love you, he thought.

She looked up, her look of concentration replaced with a smile. For a second, he thought she loved him back.

"You're staring at me," she said.

"Sorry."

He wanted to hate her. Hate her for being so cruel. But he couldn't; she took that away from him, along with everything he thought he had a chance of having.

But of course, she hadn't heard him.