Chapter 1: Drifting

"What is it, T3M4?"

The droid beeped condescendingly. T3 droids like this model had been programmed to talk in a peculiar series of beeps to stop enemies from extracting information from them. You can't extract what you can't understand!

"Of course I know where I'm going!"
"Bee-p beep dwooooo."

"I know it's deep space! I lived here for a while after I was exiled from the Jedi Order, remember?" The female speaker, known as the Exile, had joined Revan when he went to the Mandalorian Wars but was the only one to come back to the Council when Revan went to the Star Forge. She had been exiled, not because of her sins, as she had first thought, but because she was a wound in the Force. During the final, great battle of the Mandalorian Wars, Malachor V, a great machine called the Mass Shadow Generator killed an immense amount of Mandalorians and Jedi alike. Since the Exile (her name is Krystal Wan), through some peculiar twist of fate, made Force bonds with people disturbingly easily, the deaths of the people on Malachor killed her many times over. She severed herself from the Force in a desperate act of preservation and went to the Council, where she was exiled. Later, however, she came back into Republic space and met Kreia, an old, sagacious and completely twisted Dark Lord, although her identity remained unknown to the Exile until much later. The Exile acquired other friends, who traveled with her throughout space in the Ebon Hawk, and went in search of the Jedi Masters who had exiled her so she could find out the truth. When all the Masters (plus the Exile) reunited on the pastoral planet Dantooine, the Masters revealed what the Exile really was... a Wound in the Force that would literally siphon life and will from her companions, whether she wanted to or not.

After this revelation, Kreia killed the Masters, assumed the role of Darth Traya, and went to Malachor, where the Exile would have to face herself once and for all. After killing Traya and activating the Mass Shadow Generator once more to destroy Malachor ultimately (for that place was a Wound as she was), she allowed her friends to leave her so that they might be preserved... except her droids: HK47, an amusing, deadly assassin droid who had originally been made for Revan but through some peculiar circumstances ended up in the Ebon Hawk (for Revan had been in possession of the 'Hawk for a time) and T3M4, a small, compact, and, let's face it, cute droid.

Then there was the other who would not leave under any circumstances.... Atton Rand.

"Dwoooooo deep."

"Yeah, yeah, stop complaining T3! I'll find a reasonable mechanic to fix that malfunctioning protocol engine next time we land."
"Brrrr beep do bee boop?"
"Believe me, there are a lot more inhabited planets outside of the Republic than you know."

"Hey, how's it goin'?" The unmistakable, joking, and amiable (at least, it was amiable then) voice of Atton ended the rather interesting dialogue between organic and beeping droid.

"It's going, Atton," said Krystal warmly. Atton raised his left eyebrow. "Na, I never would have guessed that it's going. Really, what are we doing out here, out of Republic space?" His voice had a permanent mocking lilt, or was it more like a smug lilt? Yet it was amiable at the same time, and.... Krystal admitted reluctantly, charming.

"You scared?" teased Krystal.

"No way! If I can survive looking at the witch for, oh, six months, I can stand a little isolation."

Krystal was silent at the mention of Kreia, or rather, Darth Traya, as she had always truly been.

"What, still hung up on that old scow?"

"Not hung up necessarily, it's just.... some of her teachings still make me wonder."

"Look, she's a Sith through and through. A subtle one, I'll admit, but a Sith nonetheless. And a remarkably manipulative one at that. So don't think about her anymore. You'll give yourself a headache. More importantly, I'll get a headache from listening to your not-so-silent deliberations."

"Oh Atton..."

"So, when are we getting to the next planet with a serviceable landing pad? That will dictate whether it's time for me to go to sleep or not."

"Two hours, most likely."

"Hm... I'll go catch some shut eye then. Hey...." his voice adopted a concerned tone, "can't that T3 droid fly the ship? Maybe you should get some sleep."

"Mmmmhm.... You have the east cabin, I have the west."

"Hey, you know, Krystal," Krystal turned toward Atton, " I really don't want to stay in the same room that that crone had stayed in. Her essence might cause me to go insane."

"More accurately, more so," hissed Krystal.

"Eh?" asked Atton, who hadn't heard what Krystal had said.

"Nothing. And sure. We don't want the big, bad Atton losing sleep for fear of ghosts hanging over his head at night."

"No, we don't at that. Then who's going to cover your backside?"

"'Cover my backside'?" asked Krystal, tipping her head.

"Um... well I mean, you know, not like that..."

"Save it, Atton. Go rest your tender head. Ha, I remember when you complained about not even having any quarters...." By then Atton had left and Krystal reflected on how disturbingly happy she was. She was on the edge of civilization and was traveling into space where humans were as rare as desert dwelling krayt dragons in a jungle. The only company she had was a bloodthirsty, odd droid, a beeping trash can, and a... a fool. She didn't know what her future was going to be, and had a troubled past to torment her. Yet... her heart was as light as a bird floating high above the peaceful plains of Dantooine. Why was this?

The answer was simple. All questions she had ever had about herself, the Force, or the galaxy as a whole had been answered. Yes, of course, there were the trivial questions that were present because of mere curiosity, not necessity, but those questions were always present and their presence disturbed her as much as a fly would disturb a grazing Bantha. Questions that were essential to her being, such as 'why was I really exiled' had been answered. Thus, she had no chains to pull on her mind. Could she be described as 'blissful'? No. She had other concerns, but these merely applied to her life, and hers alone, not the galaxy, the Order, or any other creature... except her droids and... him.

Once more Krystal found herself wondering about Atton. Atton knew what she was, knew the danger she posed, yet he stayed with her. Why? Sure, she knew because of her unique bonding talent (or perhaps it was a curse) she made bonds easily, and because of this she was a natural, motivation speaker and an amazing leader, convincing people to do her will even if that person didn't want to do it, but she had bade him and the others to leave. Why did he alone stay with her (the droids, inorganic, didn't count)?

She kept coming to a conclusion that irked her and made her want to drop Atton off at some asteroid. How could she, though?

She sighed and leaned back in the cockpit chair. "T3, could you take care of the ship?"
"Beeeeep, beep boo dweet."

"Thanks."

She stood up and walked down the hall that connected the cockpit to the main area, a relatively large space. In the middle was a large holo-map of Republic space. Off to the north-west was a small compartment that she had originally found HK in. However, now he stood next to the holo-map, his head ever moving, his blaster rifle ever ready to fire.

The Hawk was so empty, now that her friends were gone, and not less than a little creepy. The brown, rusted metal walls didn't reflect light well and caused the ship to have a dim, shadowy appearance.

"Hello, HK47."

"Statement: HK47 is ready to serve, Master. Annoyed Statement: Yes, ready to serve, like any other mundane protocol droid..."

"Save it, HK. I don't want to listen to your antics right now."

"Definition: Antics – amusing, frivolous, or eccentric behavior. Antics, Master? I?! I am HK47, a highly skilled assassin droid who never indulges in such 'antics'! Unless you consider a constant desire to blast hostiles 'antics'? In which case...."

"Save it, HK! Sign off."

"Observation: Master, I can't allow you to maintain this illusion that I am eccentric or frivolous!"

"HK, it's one misplaced word. Let it go, and sign off."

"Resignation: Very well, Master, but I assure you..."

"Sign off!!" yelled Krystal with so much force that HK shut off without any further commentary. Thank the Force!

She started walking to her intended destination. She didn't really know why she was going there, she just felt she should.

"Well well, isn't this special? Forget your cabin is on the east side? Or are you a little creeped out by that witch's presence? Or...." he raised both his eyebrows.

"Or....?" said Krystal passively.

"Um.... never mind."
"I have some things I want to ask you."

"Um, OK. Ask away." He fingered his lightsaber. "I still can't believe I was Force Sensitive all this time."

Atton had been a veteran in the Mandalorian and the Jedi Civil Wars. When Revan and Malak betrayed the Republic, he followed them. He was on a special unit that was meant to capture or kill Jedi. However, one of the Jedi he encountered told him that Revan had fallen, what Revan was doing to the captured Jedi... torturing them, making them fall. Atton knew that, but when the Jedi then told Atton he was Force Sensitive and that same fate would await him if he stayed with Revan. Atton was unbelieving until the Jedi showed him the Force. Angered, he killed her, but in the end, he realized he had killed her because he loved her. She would have suffered a lot more at the hands of Revan.

Moved by her words, he left Revan and went to Nar Shadaa. Since many other refugees sought shelter on that same industrialized moon, no one looked at him suspiciously. He and the Exile met up at a mining facility called Peragaus. They had been traveling together (with other companions) since that time about eight months ago.

He hadn't told Krystal this very easily though. He didn't want Krystal to think less of him or to dislike him for his deeds. His brash, cocky manner hid his deeper, turmoiled emotions. In the end, when Krystal gained influence over him, he told Krystal everything. At the conclusion of his tale, Krystal offered to show him the Force again. He had accepted the offer. Now he was a Jedi Sentinel, who was surprisingly strong in the Force.

"I should have known, but I never guessed, Atton," said Krystal absent-mindedly.

"Well, what about those questions?"
"Why did you choose to stay with me when all the others left?"

He stared at me and said, "Why does it really matter?" Krystal looked hard at him. His brown hair almost covered his brown eyes. He had an almost square-like face, yet was ruggedly handsome. He wore brown breeches, a tan button-up shirt with a rough, large leather scarf that draped to his stomach.

"Why doesn't it?" Krystal countered.

"Hey, you can't counter a question with a question!"

"Just did."
"You're insatiable, you know that?"
"You trusted me before, trusted me enough to make you a Jedi. Why don't you trust me now?"
"It's not that I don't trust, it's just...."

"What?"
"I just feel I need to stay with you, protect you, because I get a bad feeling that you're going to run into trouble and..." he avoided the phrase 'cover your backside' and improvised, "I feel you'll need someone to help you."

"I have two capable droids to help me."

"Ha! A beeping trash compactor and a quirky malfunctioning bloodthirsty droid who might turn on you as soon as the enemy. Not what I'd call 'capable'."

"What do you call capable? You?" Krystal quipped.

"Yeah!" said Atton a bit too quickly.

"Pfft..."
"Huh? What?" asked Atton.

"Never mind.... look, I'm going to get some sleep. You should too."

"Good idea," he said. "Anyway, nothing like some sleep to get you ready to thwart death, huh?"

"What makes you think we'll have to thwart death?"
"Because we're alive."