Sweat beading down his forehead and breathing heavily, Atton ran into another supplies room, just like the half a dozen he'd already passed through, stopped, and tried to catch his breath. His heart pounded strongly in his chest, in a rhythmic thumping sound that consumed his hearing. He leaned against a storage cylinder, realizing his throat was incredibly dry. Once his heartbeat was returning to normal, Atton analyzed the room, in case he needed to fight. Every crate and supplies bin had been pushed neatly against the walls, leaving the room almost open and empty. A long table sat in front of a window with four chairs spread around it, all reflecting a dull green light from outside onto the rest of the large room.
While searching for Exile, their group was ambushed by Dark Jedi, and everyone ran, trying to force the Dark Jedi to deviate and separate. Three came running toward Atton, all taunting him to turn around and fight. For the moment, he believed he was safe, though probably not for long. He decided it was best to keep moving.
The doors parted, revealing another wide room, completely devoid of objects. Three support pillars stood on each side. Behind them were small pockets of space, and by Atton's guess you could fit a dozen cylinder storage crates in each of them. And across the room, was a door that slid open seconds after his. And Atton's heart started racing.
It was Kreia or 'Darth Traya' as he heard Exile call her after learning the vicious old scowl's true identity, armed with an active red lightsaber. She began to tread across the space that divided them.
This place is a maze, Exile thought as she threw her arms up in defeat.
She'd been at it for hours, searching for Kreia in this academy, and finding only Sith soldiers, Dark Jedi, and Guard turrets. By now she guessed her friends had fled the doomed planet, which was fine with her in the end. She hadn't planned on returning home anyway. "Oh well," she said to herself. "Let's see what's behind door number fifty-three." The door slid open to reveal another empty room, save for one thing; Atton.
"Atton?" Exile asked. He stood in the doorway on the other side of the room, wearing his normal Jedi-like attire. His eyes were wide, like a child's, staring into the closet thinking monsters dwelled within. But as she stepped toward him, his expression hardened, gritting his teeth together and looking away. Then, without warning, reached into the folds of his clothes and pulled out his lightsaber, brandishing its twin yellow blades. Then leapt at her, bringing the saber down hard. She reached for the lightsaber on her belt, though doubted she would get to it in time.
Atton pressed the attack, sweat falling from his brown hair all around as he spun and strike, repeating the process over and over. He wasn't a master of the double-bladed, but he could still hold his own. He continually kept his mind running in sequence, or 'counting cards' as he preferred to call it, so she couldn't get into his mind and anticipate his next attack. But it wasn't working like it had in the past. Every strike Kreia blocked, with a youth Atton would never had guessed. She parried and pivoted at the perfect moment, like they had rehearsed the entire fight for years. And to add insult to injury, beyond the fact that she was fighting like she still had her left hand, was the cackling laughter she spat as the tails of her black robe flapped about.
He struck again, only to be once again thwarted.
Exile barely got her blade up to catch Atton's latest strike. Fatigue of battling for hours had set in, slowing her hand. What was wrong with Atton? Why the man whom she'd spent the better part of a year with attacking her like his life depended on it? These were questions she couldn't ask right now, first Exile had to subdue Atton, without inflicting harm. But that was easier said then done. Atton fought with a ferocity that she had never seen displayed from him in their practice sessions. And as he struck at her, he kept screaming 'Die you witch' again and again. But for now, Exile would have to stay on defense, waiting for an opening or slip up.
"Die you witch!" Atton screamed as he leapt at her again and struck. Kreia blocked again, and again. He tried another sequence of lower aimed strikes and stabs, to no prevail. But still hope had arisen in the past few exchanges; Kreia was wearing down.
She tried to leap toward the door from where he came from. But reaching out with the Force, Atton grasped her body and pulled her back mid-air, brining his saber down at an awkward angle, hoping to bisect her there and then. Unfortunately, she got her blade up in time to block.
Their sabers locked, causing sparks to spread in between the two.
"Failure. . ." he heard Kreia call out over their clashing blades, her voice lingering.
Atton grit his teeth. Then broke their saber lock and slammed into her with the most powerful Force-push he could muster. Kreia was sent flying into one of the pockets of space behind the pillars, her head slamming into the stone first. Atton knew she would only be distracted for a moment, so he needed to use it well.
Time to end this.
Hastily, Atton propped the long metal hilt up with his arm; the bottom blade prominently pointed at Kreia, pulled back slightly, and then chucked his lightsaber like a spear.
Exile was tossed like a doll, stopping when her body, and head, hit the wall. A loud, almost soundless ding rang through her head, drowning the rest of the world. She tried to keep her eyes open, but was unable to stop her eyelids from closing, just for a second. Her eyes opened and focused to the sight of a lightsaber plunging into her chest, effectively taking her breath out of her mouth.
It burned with an intensity she never fathomed before, like she was dropped into the heart of a sun. Then it turned cold, her bones feeling frozen and stiff as ice. Exile slumped to the floor, hearing both hers and Atton's sabers shut down and finding no control of her body. Her hilt rolled across to the other side of the pocket of space, while Atton's clattered onto the floor beside her.
It was done. Atton strode toward, wearing a half grin on his face and keeping his eye on Kreia. Her head was pointed down, the hood of her robes hiding her face, with a thumb-sized hole just above her heart, seeing a small portion of the stone wall shine through the cauterized hole. As he called his lightsaber back to his hand, Kreia looked back up at him.
And she was smiling.
Suddenly, Kreia disappeared, almost in a puff a dark smoke, replaced by Exile trying to reach the wound with a bum arm. And Atton's heart stopped. His lightsaber fell from his grasp and hit the floor at his feet, bouncing twice before stopping. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her and cradling his beloved. He fought back tears.
"Atton. . ." she breathed. She looked up, wide-eyed and tears falling, but not blinking. ". . .Why?" Her words were getting softer by the second.
"I. . ." His mind was throwing out answer after answer. It was supposed to be Kreia, not you, being the one repeated most, but the words did not escape his mouth. "It wasn't supposed to be you." was all he was able to get out.
Exile's mouth began to tremble; almost forming words, but eventually gave up. She simply stared up at him in his arms, trying her best to smile. Their gaze never faltered, until her muscles loosened, and her head fell softly against his chest. Her eyes changed from viridian to glass-like.
Then, Atton let the tears flow.
The drops fell and splashed onto her forehead, breaking up and splitting off into different directions. He gripped her body tighter, resting his head atop hers. Once it felt like there were no tears left to shed, Atton released his hold on her and closed her eyes. Then, Kreia's voice called to him.
How touching, the fool who mourns for the warrior he killed.
Atton's eyes shot open as wide as they could, pupils shrinking from the hate within. "Kreia." he spat out like poison. There was no point in shouting; she could hear the faintest whisper leave his mouth. "You did this to her."
Did I? Did I force you to plunge your lightsaber into her heart? No. That was your doing, murderer, not mine.
"You-" he was trying to dispute, but was cut off.
Clouded your mind with deception? Perhaps if you spent more time training then staring at her from afar like a love-spoiled child, you would have seen through my spell.
Was she right? "But-"
No. Your arrogance is what killed her. Your ignorance toward your training is what killed her. Now leave, murderer, before I find and end you myself.
And once again, he was alone. Plopping himself against the wall, Atton began to bang his head against the stone as hard as his neck could muster, quickly drawing blood. But new pain did not erode the old ones, as he hoped. Atton sat himself more straight, and then turned his attention to his Exile, lying in his lap and facing his direction.
It was impossible to believe he would never see her open those beautiful eyes again, yet here they were. Forcing a smile, Atton ran a hand through her long brown hair, wondering why in the world he was the one who lived.
And an hour later, he heard them coming.
The group cluttered in through the door he came from, not paying attention to the fact that it was already open. The Handmaiden was first, followed by Mira, Disciple, and finally Bao-Dur. Nobody knew what happened to Visas after the battle at Telos. It was like she just disappeared out of thin air. All were wearing their robes, though some had the familiar stains and holes of combat. Even Bao-Dur, who admitted more then once his dislike of their constricting quality's and that he had to rip off part of the sleeve for his cybernetic arm. And smiling, almost giggling. Then they saw Atton, and their smiles faded away like dust in the wind.
Some dropped to their knees. Some kept standing. But all had water in their eyes. Bao-Dur, despite his kindful nature, was trying to keep himself together as best he could, probably because of the military life he had with her. The girls were pretty much the same, staring in disbelief on the floor. But in front of all them, was Disciple, on his knees and at the brink of absolute weeping. It was heartbreaking to see that which gave you hope dead.
"How?" one of them asked at last. Handmaiden, he thought it was.
Before answering, Atton gently took her head off his lap and placed it on the cold floor. "Kreia." He simply stated as he stood to face them, his stomach knotting from the half-truth. Everyone but Disciple stood to meet him.
"Why?" Disciple grimly asked as he looked up at Atton. His face was like a child's, angry at the world and getting no answers.
Unfortunately, Atton had no answer for him. But he wished he did. And with the silence hanging between them, the kid got the message.
"I think it's time to leave." Bao-Dur announced, stepping forward. "The second half of the mission will have to remain failed." He extended his arm, the real one, to the two girls, and after only a moments hesitation did they pull their cloaks off and hand them to him.
Watching the Iridonian create a make-shift stretcher, Atton's mind raced. He was the one who failed, completely and utterly. He failed not only the woman who had his heart, not only his friends, but the galaxy itself too. How could he possibly atone for what he'd done here today? How could he honor her memory? Looking around, the answer was almost too oblivious.
Them.
"Take her back home." Atton ordered as they lifted her onto the stretcher. "She'd probably like to be cremated in the Enclave, or in the courtyard."
"And where will you be?" Mira interjected, raising an eyebrow.
"Once you're clear of the planet, trigger the shadow generator." He ignored her comment and tried to keep moving. "The hyperdrive's been temperamental lately, so you have to-"
She grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around, cutting off his sentence. "We're all going. End of story."
Now he grabber her shoulders, and looked her square in the eye. "No," Atton informed. "I'm not."
She shook his hands off and put hers on her hips. "Then I'm staying too."
Atton shook his head. "No." He repeated. "Beside Bao-Dur," He gestured at the Zabrak. "And the droid, only you know how to fly. Besides, the Jedi need someone to teach them about real combat."
He walked away from her, heading toward the others. Bao-Dur was first, sitting next to Exile lying on the tied up robes. "And machines." Atton said, stopping for only a second before heading toward the Handmaiden, trying to comfort Disciple, still sitting in the same spot, only now with his head down. She looked up when he stopped behind the young man. "The Echanti styles and Lightsaber forms," She acknowledged in a nod, and backed away. Atton squatted down into Handmaiden's spot.
"And finally," He reached out and touched Disciple's shoulder. In response, the young man turned, showing his tear-soaked cheeks and red eyes. "A leader." Atton concluded.
Disciple's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What?" he asked, his voice weak and crackling.
Atton nodded. "You heard me. If there's anyone better, then show me." He did a quick sweep of the room. "Well, I guess you're in charge, kid. Don't mess it up."
Disciple's jaw shook, like he was going to break out into tears again. But to his credit, he resisted, squaring his jaw and nodding. Then wiped his face with the sleeve of his robes as he stood with Atton. Words were not needed as the two looked at the other; they had already been said. Atton stepped aside so he could go join the others standing around Exile's body. The four bent down and picked up each side in unison. Atton stopped them before they could walk away, stepping over and kissing his woman's forehead. "I love you." he whispered before bringing himself back up. And off they went, not one looking back.
Atton smiled. Their the future, he thought.
He walked into the space and found his lightsaber resting on the side, next to Exile's. It was strange that they had missed it, but right now, Atton was glad for the mistake. He grabbed both hilts, but stopped himself from pocketing them. Thumbing the activator studs, the weapons came to life, drowning him in their silver and yellow light.
For the longest time he simply stared at the blades, loosing himself in their magical hum. But he forced himself out of it, shutting them down and heading for the door Exile had come from. He passed through the doorway to find a familiar face standing in the middle of the room beyond.
"And I get the fool." Sion coldly announced as his crimson lightsaber flared to life.
Coughing the dust out of his throat to little prevail, Atton leapt through the storm of it forming in the room and into a doorway, barely a dark silhouette from he was standing. He hit the ground, hard dirt to be more precise, soon followed by a thunderous booming noise that left Atton deafened for a long moment. He would have like the quiet, had it not been for the ringing.
Still clutching both sabers, he stood and turned, finding a large diagonal boulder pressed against the doorway from the inside. He smiled. How do you take down an invincible Sith Lord? He asked to himself. Bring the roof down around his ears.
But looking down at his clothes, covered from top to bottom in a thin layer of brown dust, his smile disappeared. He patted most of it off, but some of it still remained in the cracks and creases. Atton turned back around to have his breath taken away. It was almost a stone island, with only two thin rock bridges being the only way to it. Three structures stood, possibly made of durasteel, like three large rancor teeth ready to ensnare a smaller creature. And at its core, was Kreia, sitting legs crossed and facing Atton's direction, her eyes closed in quiet meditation.
He stepped forward, beginning to tread across the bridge. Strange enough, he found himself stalking, almost tip-toeing his way across, trying to remain as silent as possible. But the dirt crunching under his heels gave him away. Once his feet touched flat surface, Kreia's eyes opened. Atton gripped the two hilts tighter.
"I must admit, Atton," Kreia began. "You surprise me. I did not expect you to defeat Sion."
Well, I am a talented individual. Came to mind, but Atton kept his mouth shut. The time for smart remarks had passed about ten minutes ago. He held her gaze. "Why aren't you dead?"
She almost laughed. "I have long known how to separate my connection with the Exile, in case the worst, or the inevitable, happened."
"It was interesting watching you, of all the people in the galaxy; try to inspire hope in others. To give them purpose and drive them toward their fates, but it was for nothing. They will fail, Atton. For nothing happens without my knowing. I am the manipulator of all, bending everything, even you, to my will. Remember that Atton." Her image shifted into Exile's, skin coldly pale and a cauterized hole still burned into her chest. "Remember." She repeated in Exile's voice.
Grinding his teeth and forcing down the gnawing pain forming in his stomach, Atton began heading toward her, waving his arm in front of him.
Her image disappeared, like flame being extinguished and Kreia was back. "That won't work twice." He said, not stopping.
Kreia scowled, then stepped back and reached into her robe's sash. A lightsaber hilt was in her hand when she pulled it out, brandishing a crimson blade. "So be it, fool." She hissed. Atton stopped, and looking down at the weapons in his hands, clipped his lightsaber onto his belt and activated Exile's, drowning him in silver light.
They charged, and collided.
Like last time, the ends of Kreia's robes flapped around as the two entered the ebb and flow of attack and defense. But unlike the last fight, Kreia was in danger, and Atton used both that fear that she would never admit to and her advanced age to his advantage. Ducking a strike aimed for his head, Atton drove his foot into her shin, hard. And Kreia went down, crashing on top of the large red crystal-like glass piece imbedded in the center of the structure. But as he flipped the grip of his weapon, Kreia still gave no signs of pain.
Blade pointed down, Atton plunged the saber into the heart of the crystal, where Kreia should have been, if not for her using the Force to slide out of the way a split second before contact. He looked up and saw she was already on her feet and coming back at him saber raised.
But when Atton pulled his saber out from the crystal, cracks quickly formed from the hole, many crisscrossing like a spider's web, until it finally shattered, giving him a personal view of the actual core of the planet. He was mesmerized for a moment, looking at both the pieces of glass falling and the viridian colored substance below. It had almost a glowing factor to it, as pockets of air floated up to the surface, staying aloft for just a moment, then popping, spewing small bits the substance back into the lake. Atton force himself out of it in time to catch Kreia's blade from up high.
When she was close enough to the ground after the failed attempt, Atton reached out with the Force and pushed her into the nearest one of the three durasteel structures. The image of False-Kreia slamming into the pocket of space flashed into his mind, but he forced it away with a little effort.
But this time, he let her get to the floor. Big mistake. Kreia launched herself in the blink of an eye, roaring as she came down on Atton. She kept herself in the air as she hammered her blade against his, like she had repulserlifts under her feet, until she flipped behind Atton and spun herself around in a complete circle, saber outstretched and slightly angled upward.
Atton ducked, barely missing the passing energy blade as it singed off the tips of three hairs. But looking up, he saw something; an opening. And he took it.
Crouching, he stepped forward and swung his blade up with all he could muster. The silver blade of plasma cut straight through the elderly woman's wrist, and the severed hand hit the ground at their feet, bounced, and fell into the whole where the crystal once stayed. Suddenly, Atton felt something hit him in the stomach, and he was off his feet.
The young Jedi landed on the hard surface of the core, just before the thin stone bridge. Taking a moment to replenish air into his lungs and shake off the pain, Atton stood, and nearly grinned.
Kreia stood in the center of the core, staring down in disbelief at the ends of her arms, one still smoking around the edges. Her jaw was shaking, though from the pain or the fact that she had now lost both hands, he did not know. Then her mouth formed a snarl as she looked into Atton's eyes, which to him, was like plunging head-first into a black hole.
Her robes flapped wildly to nonexistent wind as she extended both arms out. "I should have ended you long ago!" She hissed angrily. Three bright cylinders flew out from her sleeves, all floating to above her head and pointed at Atton. Violet blades jumped out from each one.
Inhaling a deep breath, Atton closed his eyes and reached down and pulled his lightsaber from its place on his belt, activating the twin yellow blades. His eyes shot open. "Come and get me."
He noticed a twitch of annoyance from Kreia's face, but she covered it up. Kreia sent the sabers after him, like a master would attack hounds. Theoretically, it was even. Three blades against three blades. But in reality, Atton was at a major disadvantage. This style of using both a standard saber and a double-bladed was unknown territory that he was now forced to venture into. With aid from the Force, he was able to fend them off and start to make his way to Kreia, who hadn't taken a step away from the core. Atton guessed that she needed to be standing still for this technique to work. But then, one of them got to his saber, chopping it into a dozen different pieces before it hit the floor.
Which left the count one blade to three.
And before he could take a step, they got the last, a violet blade piercing itself into the emitter and causing the blade to wink out of existence.
Standing there with the three swords swirling around him like sharks, Atton looked up and saw Kreia standing, beads of sweat falling from her face, and grinning. Then without pause, one of the blades buried itself into his stomach. His eyes went wide as the last gasp of air left his body.
It burned at first, and then replaced the fire with an ice-like sensation that spread throughout his body. Atton fell to his knee's, letting the lightsaber slip from his grasp, but caught himself before falling on his face. Exile's lightsaber shattered upon impact, breaking into the components that it comprised of and scattering like insects. And as Atton sat on his hands and knees, knowing death was inevitable, looked over to the parts and found what she had treasured most, after her friends.
Her lightsaber crystal.
He reached out, which sent waves of pain he couldn't have imagined in his worst nightmares through his body, but he gritted his teeth and grabbed it anyway, brining it back to himself.
It shinned despite everything, projecting a bright silvery light in his palm. Then, past the hum of the lightsaber inside him, he heard something.
Fight on. . .
It was her. He wouldn't let her down, not again. He stood, his strength coming from Force knows where and finding Kreia wide eyed in shock. Then her scowl returned as he started walking toward her. She sent another saber at him, this time digging itself into his side through his ribcage. He stopped, but only for second, then resumed walked, now with a limp. Still, she had not moved.
Growing desperate, Kreia sent the last one streaking, plunging it higher into his chest. He stopped, and didn't resume.
He no longer felt pain, or emotions. He no longer thought, his brain having shut down. He had no idea how or why he was still standing, but he was. Reaching to his side, he pulled the lightsaber free from his ribs without scream or cry. He felt her trying to get it back, but nothing would tear it from his grip now. He swung the blade down vertically, chopping through the other two's emitters and causing showers of sparks to rain from each one as they fell to the floor, then disposed of the remaining one.
Swaying like a leaf in the wind, Atton blinked, and was shocked and happy with the replacement view. It was Exile, standing on what could have been a cloud, her long hair flowing in the wind he could now feel, dressed in clean, white robes and reaching out to him, smiling. Behind her, a bright light grew and grew, until it was unbearable to look. Then, he was back.
Kreia looked at him with an emotion he thought impossible to get from her; fear. With one final push from the Force, Atton propelled himself at her, slamming into her due to her exhaustion from battle, and went over the edge of the core.
As her screams echoed off the walls, Atton closed his eyes and found true peace for the first time in his life, for he would soon be with his Exile.
