Hey! Finally have another chapter up. Enjoy! :)
Chapter Three
"…You have to understand that it was a time of great uncertainly. We just learned that Darth Revan was back with an armada. Every Jedi that went with him was... lost, corrupted, and as dark as their Master. And then there was you. Many thought you were a spy."
—Jedi Master Kavar
Revan weaved effortlessly through the crowd, determination seeping into her skin with every step she took. She felt an excitement course through her veins as they approached the little kiosk in front of the beaten building that looked like it must have at one point been fairly majestic. That was the way of the galaxy, Revan believed; everything broke eventually. And then it died. The trick was to slow the death.
She could see Thayne scowling from the corner of her eye, no doubt angry because he was being left in the dark. They had been walking for an hour already, having gotten lost once and been attacked by would-be muggers twice. Revan briefly wondered if his definition of safe, as he had called the city, was similar to her
own; personally she thought they had had an easy time of it. Nothing more than a few starving, out of work mercs and a couple street thieves were nothing.
The being in the kiosk was dirty looking human with wandering eyes that took in everything possible about the people in front of him. Revan was momentarily impressed that they managed to find such a man to take care of business, though it would just make things more complicated for her in the end. Breathing in, she adopted the persona of an old friend of hers, hoping that acting like the Jedi princess herself would be enough to throw the man off of her trail. She tried not to miss her friend Bastila as she approached the human.
"I'm here to compete," she said with a haughty look at the man in front of her upon her arrival at the kiosk.
"Really? How unusual for someone around here," the man growled back.
"Please, you obviously don't know who I am. Just give me a number," Revan snapped.
"Whatever, princess. Here, you're up in two rounds. You have three heats. There should be a bike in the back, dock 4. That'll be twenty credits," the man said, scratching his chin as he looked her up and down.
Revan glared at him and slammed the credits on the counter and stalked away from him. Thayne followed her, looking at her as though she had lost her mind. Little did he know there wasn't much left to lose in that area.
"What the hell was that? You got little voices talking to you in your head or something?" he demanded, surprised at her sudden personality change.
"I annoyed him just enough that he won't remember me for more than twenty minutes," Revan explained absently, her eyes roving the area for her dock.
"So explain to me why we're in a swoop den? Are you expecting to actually win money here?" Thayne asked, his voice mocking as he eyed the shady characters around him.
"Don't worry your little head about it, Korr. I used to be pretty good at this." Revan spotted the dock, in which a bike was parked. She hurried in the direction, hoping it wouldn't require much alteration before the race to get it running pretty well. They weren't in the most upstanding den in the galaxy. It was also much more crowded than the ones she was used to; there were people everywhere, betting, racing, watching. Better for cover, she told herself.
"You realize that professionals come here to retire, right? And that most of the schuttas here do this for a living," he said pointedly. Receiving no answer, he asked, "How many times have you raced?"
"Two, maybe three times," Revan said, thinking back for a moment. Taris was the first, Tatooine, and somewhere else she was sure. Manaan maybe.
"Two times? Are you insane? They'll kill you! And then they'll run over you again just to spread your guts over the track," Thayne growled.
"Well, cheaper fare for you then," Revan shot back as they reached the bike. It didn't look too damaged; nothing a quick tweak here and there wouldn't fix. She was pretty sure no other alterations were legal, though she was positive that almost everyone in the joint had tricked the engine of their machine somehow or other.
Thayne sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Look, you seem to be accustomed to your clinical insanity, but this is just…"
"Crazy?" Revan said, not looking up from the portion of the bike she was working on with the inadequate tools provided. She didn't have long before her first heat.
"Okay, when was the last time you raced?"
Ava thought about it. "A few years ago, I guess."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Swoop racing has advanced since then. It used to be just hit the speed pad and don't crash into the junk in the way. Now there are ramps, rings, leaps, obstacles, turns, and other racers to crash into," Thayne said, his voice heavy with emphasis.
That made Revan look up at him. Her eyes hardened as she rose and made her way over to the track screens to observe the other players. The screen showed several racers at once, some traveling in opposite directions, with flying obstacles and jumps, just like Thayne said. Taking everything in and storing it carefully in her memory for future reference, Revan nodded to herself, sure she could do it. It would be harder, no doubt. She could still make her old time, she bet. Turning away from the monitor, Revan returned to work on the swoop.
"That had absolutely no effect on you," Thayne said. It was not a question.
"Sure it did; I'm more prepared." She tightened a bolt with a quick twist, hearing it grind into position. She knew he had been hoping to scare her out of racing. The very idea of the track scaring her was laughable.
She could feel Thayne frowning at her back, irritated that she was disregarding his warnings so blatantly. They would be going separate ways soon, so she felt no need to make him feel more comfortable with her. The further away he was from her the better; whether or not he realized it, just being around her was enough to get him killed faster than riding in an overcharged, malfunctioning swoop bike in the belly of a volatile volcano on the verge of eruption. Maybe it was a little less dangerous… at the moment, she conceded to herself.
"Fine. If you want to kill yourself, go ahead. I won't be giving you a funeral," he snapped, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, brown eyes dark.
"I'm afraid you'll be seeing me at the finish line," Revan murmured as she finished the tune up of the vehicle. There was a lot she could have done with it if she had had the right tools. As it was she was lucky to be able to clean it up some.
"At least trick it some," Thayne said.
"Where's the fun in that? Isn't imminent death so much more exciting? As this thing stands I'll be lucky not to get blown into oblivion if I hit someone else," Revan observed, eyeing the bike. Someone had tampered with it at some point in time; sabotage, she suspected. She had gotten most of the mess cleaned up.
"You had a very sad childhood, didn't you?" Thayne muttered.
Revan didn't answer. She was looking up at the score board above her head. A racer named Deka Mon just got a record score of 46.45 seconds through the whole course. That was good, she had to admit. The track wasn't short, not by a long shot. She wondered who she would be racing with and how they had tampered with their bikes to get the edge over the competition. New and innovative mechanical techniques had always been a thing of interest for Revan, especially when it concerned either swoop bikes or lightsabers.
"Racer numbers twenty-three, seven, six, nineteen, two, eight, and four, your heat is beginning," a voice crackled on the overhead comm system. She was impressed that they had to use one of those; normally people just raced whenever, but with that many racers around it just wasn't possible.
Revan couldn't keep the grin off of her face as she heard her number called. Familiar adrenaline shot through her system; swoop was one of her private pleasures in her otherwise all-consuming driven life. What did it say about her that she enjoyed a life-threatening sport for fun and relief from her life? Nothing good, she was sure.
"Go get 'em, sparky," Thayne said with a mock salute, seemingly resigned to her bout of madness.
Revan allowed her grin to grow as she jumped into her bike and threw the helmet on.
XXXXXXXXX
Case pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed as she peered at the map one more time. Beyond reason or belief they had gotten off course and were now somewhere in the region of Nowhere, which was right beyond the borders of the Nothing system. In short, she was lost. Again. For the first time she wondered if it was actually Atton who had the navigational sense in her crew. Other than a few dozen crash landings his record, and a few mishaps in the Ebon Hawk's history, the ship and the pilot were both pretty amazing. But even with that amazing track record, not even the Ebon Hawk could keep flying forever without fuel. And she was running dangerously low. A grim smile touched Case's mouth – the great Jedi Exile dying in open space because she ran out of fuel. That would be fairly ironic considering her supposed prowess.
Atton… her thoughts clouded over, going back to the moment they had said their farewells. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she remembered her parting action of kissing him. What had influenced her to do such a thing she would never know. Not that she didn't want to kiss him. She did. Only there had been nothing on his face to indicate that he had wanted the kiss.
She remembered it perfectly, every detail seared into her mind as if they had been hewn into her brain with a vibroblade. His eyes had been blank, his mouth set in a determined line. Then he had simply turned, his head bent with his hair spilling over his forehead, and walked out the door, his strong frame steady as he disappeared from her view. He had not looked back, not once. And she had watched even after there was nothing left to see.
A scowl stole across her face as embarrassment crept up from her bowels. To expose her emotions like that was usually so hard for her, and yet with him when she knew he was leaving, it had been so easy. And the kiss… she wondered what he would say if she told him that that was her first. Atton would laugh, she supposed. Just the sheer number of women he must have kissed made her shake her head. Not to even think about what he had done beyond kissing.
"Observation: Master, you are tense. Perhaps target practice will improve your disposition?" HK said, turning his head to face T3, who had just rolled into the main room from the cockpit.
"No," Case said, turning away from the glowing blue light of the map to look at her droids. She found herself watching HK more than ever, now. It reminded her that he was Revan's droid; that Revan had to be out there somewhere. Find Revan, help Revan, save the galaxy. Those were the words that marched across her conscious mind and invaded the land of her dreams during the few hours she allowed herself to sleep. They held no comfort, no hope, only a wild grasp at what she was supposed to be doing.
And what was that exactly? She didn't know who she was fighting or what exactly she was trying to stop them from doing! Frustration flared inside of her as she reached behind her and gripped the edge of the table. The edges dug into her skin, slight pain trickling through her arms. Pain was good; pain meant she still felt things. Her worst nightmare was being alive on the day she would no longer feel anything, even pain. That one day she would truly be consumed by what she was becoming; a hole, empty and numb.
"Damn it!" she barked suddenly, throwing her head forward as if to dodge a blow to her skull. They were lost. Revan was missing, and the True Sith would kill the galaxy if she couldn't stop them.
"Query: Master? Are you experiencing hallucinations? That may be a sign that you have been in space too long," HK said, sounding amused by the prospect of having a delusional master. Right up his ally, Case supposed, considering his previous owner. For Revan had to be insane by now; she had been insane back in the days before the wars, let alone after everything that had happened since then.
"No, HK. I'm not ill," she replied, releasing the table to wrap her arms around herself, wondering how Revan stood the loneliness and the silence of wide open space. Case was out of practice since her return to the inner worlds of the galaxy. She had forgotten the silence that accompanied a life of solitude. Or maybe it was the specific people she had left behind that made her insides wrench with sadness.
"Beep deet boop dwoo," T3 said, his tone questioning.
Case looked sharply at the little machine. "Yes, I miss him. I miss all of them," she said, wondering why she was justifying herself to a droid; they had a harder time finding motives behind people's words and actions.
An alarming beep resounded from the cockpit, calling Case's attention back to the then and there. She skirted HK and leaped over T3 as she flew to the front of the ship, hoping beyond hope it was a planet and not a very large, lethal asteroid that the Ebon Hawk had picked up on its radar. She swung herself over the back of the seat and landed with a thud on the pathetic excuse for a cushion. Immediately her hands were flipping across the controls. It was most definitely a planet, at least from what the charts were telling her. It was roughly the size of
Dxun, which meant it was no more than a dwarf planet, technically. She didn't care; most planets had land, and land meant she could move again.
The comm system crackled as a voice spoke through it. "This is Cejun station to unidentified vessel. Please respond."
"Roger, this is Case Roanoke, pilot of the Ebon Hawk," she responded immediately. While normally someone would warn her to exercise caution when giving out true information about herself, Case had no inclination to do so, believing that trouble would find her no matter the precautions she took. Actually, it was usually Atton who kept an eye out for things like that. But he wasn't with her at the moment, so she handled things the way she wanted.
There was silence for a moment on the comm, while Case waited with bated breath, barely believing there were sentient beings nearby. After a moment more of silence she began to worry, wondering if they had picked up on some of the shadier bits of the past belonging to the Ebon Hawk. It wasn't as if the ship hadn't been places most beings had not. The earliest owner she knew was Revan, and that had been years ago.
"Please prepare for landing, Ebon Hawk."
Case sighed with relief and acquiesced to the command. Even as a swirl of apprehension coiled in her belly at willingly landing on an unknown planet with absolutely no knowledge of its people or their affiliations, Case knew that to refuse a landing was death; she needed fuel. If something happened, she could just talk her way out of it like she usually did. Or fight. That she did a lot too.
Soon she was pulling closer to the planet, the charts having been downloaded and she was now being guided into the station. It was set back in a huge green forest, nearly invisible to passersby who were not Jedi. As it was, even Case had a problem spotting it at first. As she neared the station, she sent out tendrils of the Force, searching for anything that might threaten her life. What came back was a feeling of extreme tension beneath the surface of the planet, though there were no overwhelming hostile feelings.
As the Ebon Hawk pulled into the docking area, Case kept on her guard; she planned to get fuel and supplies as fast as possible before resuming her mission. Hopefully her regular luck of getting caught up in affairs on a given planet wouldn't have followed her so far away from the Mid Rim. She was no longer a Jedi, but neither was she able to turn her back on the many people she met who needed help.
The moment the ship was fully docked, Case told HK and T3 to be on their guards, just in case. They made their way to the exit ramp and walked out onto the planet. The dock was immaculate, shining white in the light from the star that illuminated the world. Such a star of close proximity was usually called a sun, she knew, and yet the light was oddly colored, ranging from yellow to even purple in spots. Case felt her double-bladed saber pressing against her side as she strode forward, trying to look more confident than she felt.
In front of her stood a congregation of twelve men dressed in light orange robes, their hair long with one thin braid on the left side. All were fairly tall with defined features, while the skin tones varied from pale to dark. They stood with their hands in front of them, fingers laced together as they stared unsmilingly at the Jedi
emerging from the ship. Case eyed them warily as she walked toward them, stopping about three meters away to bow slightly, which seemed like a fairly neutral action with which to greet them.
"Salutations," one of them men said, his voice deep and serene.
"Hello," Case returned, standing with her feet together and hands folded in front of her, just as she had been taught as a padawan. It was supposed to be a neutral, formal pose that conveyed authority but not hostility of any kind. The feet together let them know you weren't intending to try anything, while the folded hands put you in a perceived position of vulnerability, letting them know you would not attack.
"Welcome to Xent," the man said, lowering his head a degree in a slight bow. Case returned the action. "Are the rest of the crew coming out?"
Case tried not to show her confusion; others? "There are no others," she responded calmly.
The members of the group visibly stiffened at her words, their eyes hardening as they watched her. Case wondered what exactly she had done this time to anger the planet's people; there was always something she was doing wrong in the eyes of the authorities. For she assumed those men were the authorities. She watched as some of them leaned over to others, whispering quietly to one another, their eyes never leaving her face.
"I see," one of them said finally, "Please follow us."
Case complied, trailing behind them as they turned and filed one by one through a door at the other end of the hanger. It led through a series of control rooms and docking registries until they ended up in a room that resembled a small meeting quarter, though it was an unusual shade of yellow instead of the typical gray found in such places. Not that Case knew what was regular on Xent.
"Please, sit," one of the men said, gesturing toward an odd chair. The tables were all low to the ground with stools sitting around them, all of which were slanted a few degrees in one position. Watching as the men sat, Case discovered that the trick was sliding one's legs under the stool, almost like a kneeling position. To her surprise the backless stool was incredibly comfortable; it supported her back wonderfully with its slant, which was a much more natural position to sit in than straight up and down.
"We must administer a standard procedure for all who come to Xent," one of the men said.
"Okay. I just want fuel and supplies. I'll be going right after that," Case said, hoping they caught her subtle hint at her reluctance to stay.
"Hmm, that is so." one man replied clearly. Case hoped he meant she would be allowed to leave without aiding them in any official crises of the planet.
A pale one stepped forward and sat in front of her, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "I am Xenalus. I will be asking you a series of questions. Please answer with the full truth; we will know if you lie."
"Of course," Case said without apprehension; she wasn't too fair of a liar anyway, despite her years serving in the wars. Her soldiers during the war would often make her play lying games just so they could call her out on something, causing no end to the teasing she had had to endure. If her life depended on it she could spin a tale to get out of a sticky situation, but that was about where her talent ended.
"Please state your full name," Xenalus said, one hand moving into his robe and withdrawing a datapad. He poised his hand above it, waiting for her to give an answer.
"Casey Nifka Roanoke," Case said, wincing at her middle name. She had always wondered what her parents had been drinking when they named her.
"Your age, please."
"Twenty-nine standard galactic years," Case replied.
"Your occupation, if any."
Case hesitated, wondering if what she did could technically be called a job. "I do a lot of traveling and a lot of mediating between parties," she replied vaguely. Xenalus seemed satisfied with that answer.
"The name of your husband," he continued.
"There isn't one," Case said, confused.
"Excuse me?" Xenalus asked, eyeing her severely.
"I said I don't have a husband," Case repeated.
"But you are travelling," Xenalus said pointedly.
Having no idea what that had to do with anything, Case simply nodded.
"And you are below the age of forty-seven standard galactic years," he said.
"True," she answered.
"I do not understand," Xenalus said.
"Neither do I," Case said flatly, not liking where the conversation was going.
Xenalus cleared his throat and glanced back at the men behind him. Case noticed for the first time that they were all exactly identical in all but coloring, not simply similar in appearance. She kept her eyes on Xenalus, but took in the others and the rest of her environment at the same time. It was an old Jedi training routine that padawans were frequently told to do. There was a small vent about two meters above the ground that wouldn't be hard to reach. That could be her escape if worst came to worst.
The man in front her cleared his throat once more, sounding nervous. Case noticed the others behind him were staring with enough intensity to make Xenalus uncomfortable; she was fidgety just watching him endure their scrutiny. She waited for Xenalus to speak. Despite his tense appearance, his voice was ever serene as he said, "We have a sworn responsibility to educate you on our laws, then."
"Do you?" Case murmured. That should be fascinating.
"It is dictated by Pallo that all who are over the years of seventeen and under the years of forty-seven must submit themselves to be bound by the law in a state that befits sentient beings within that time frame of their lives," he said, the words sounding much like a recitation.
Blinking once, twice, Case sat still, trying to discern what in the universe the man was talking about. She caught whatever it was that he said about being legally bound if over seventeen or under forty-seven, but that meant absolutely nothing to her. She waiting for Xenalus to continue. When he and the rest of the men remained silent, she spoke.
"Okay. What does that mean?" she asked slowly, curious as to what exactly she had done.
"By landing here you have submitted yourself to our authority until we deem you worthy of release," Xenalus replied. Case wasn't sure if that answered her question.
What she did understand was that she had to obey their laws or she was going nowhere. Great. It was like old times. "Very well, if that is my only option," she said cordially, "But in what way am I to be bound? I won't interfere in anything."
"You are to be bound as Pallo commands it."
"Who is Pallo?" Case asked.
"Pallo is all around. It is in every living thing and governs the universe," Xenalus said, his voice reverent.
"You mean the Force?" Case was thrilled that they knew about it. At least they seemed to respect it, and being a Force-user herself, it might come in handy.
"Yes, it has been called such. As Pallo commands you shall be bound," Xenalus repeated.
Case tried to remember anything in her training that referred to people being "bound" in some way during a specific age range. Nothing came to mind. It sounded so odd for someone to speak of the Force in such a way. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," she said, trying to keep her voice respectful.
"You will be bound marriage, of course."
XXXXXXX
The street was lit by a single light, which provided enough illumination for Atton to see the girl disappear into an apartment that looked as old and beat down as the ancient droid back on the docking platform. He slipped forward, melding with the shadows for cover, cursing the girl and the Force for making him follow her. He could have been on his way to Tatooine, and the sooner he did that the sooner he would be able to follow Case.
Case… Atton pushed thoughts of her from his mind, knowing that she was the thing that would distract him more than anything else if he thought about her too much. He gritted his teeth as he thought about the last time they had been together. It was the first time they had really touched. She had kissed him… Atton set his jaw firmly, remembering his vow to himself that he would see her again, and when he did the action would be returned. But there was still a ways ahead of him before that could happen.
Sliding close to the wall, Atton reached the door to the apartment without difficulty. Just for good measure he put up a good amount of misdirection with the Force. From that point on he was able to walk past the patrons of the building (mostly twi'lek and rodians) without one of them turning their head. He felt the girl was near, probably another floor up. He took a nearby lift and was soon in one of the grungiest hallways he had ever had the displeasure to be in. It was like old times, he thought grimly to himself.
There, the room on the end was hers. Atton crept forward and halted at the extremely old metal door. He looked at it dubiously, unsure if it would even open. A grin crept onto his face at the thought; anything would open for him. His hands reached for the code pad and began to work. In a matter of seconds the lock clicked at the door slid open.
A knife pressed against his throat, the edge barely splitting his skin. Atton didn't move, but his eyes slid to the left and caught sight of the girl, her face contorted with anger. He understood her hatred of him; it was deserving. Flicking the fingers of one hand, Atton sent the girl shooting across the room and against the sofa, where she landed with a soft thud.
"Kark you!" she swore.
Atton raised an eyebrow at her language; the girl had obviously not hung out with the best sorts. "Schutta," he returned without venom.
"Mudcrutch," she barked.
"I'd keep that filth inside your mouth if I were you," Atton said darkly, striding toward her. She leapt to her feet, defiant at his advance.
"Kriffing son of a bantha! What the frack do you want," she growled.
Atton shook his head condescendingly. "I'm willing to bet you're a tarhead, aren't you?" he said, ignoring the insults. The red rims around her eyes let him know that she did indeed favor the thick, dark liquid that was usually a favorite among insect-like species. Why she was addicted was a mystery; Atton couldn't stand the stuff.
"Go space yourself," she snapped.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said, walking closer.
"No! I'm not," she said, her voice quavering a bit, "I quit that stuff about a year back. I can't get rid of the physical signs, though."
That was true – the junk had lasting effects on the person, making their lungs constrict and their liver fail eventually, not to mention the outer signs like red-rimmed eyes and blackened gums. He looked her up and down. Frack, she looked like her sister. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his mind away from the time in the past. And yet… he knew that was why he was there with the girl.
"You're her sister then," he said gruffly.
The girl didn't say anything for a moment, just glared. Then she spat, "Yes. Ven is my name. Use it, blue-sider."
Atton tsk-ed at her. "By 'blue-sider' I'm assuming you mean I'm not a dark Jedi or Sith," he said.
"Smart, aren't you?" Ven sneered.
"I like to think so, yeah," Atton replied thoughtfully, "But I didn't come here to talk about me."
"And you didn't come to kill me; Jedi don't do that," she spat.
Atton shrugged uncaringly. "See, the only problem with that is I'm not a Jedi, not really."
"Yes you are; you're bluer than Manaan," she insisted.
Looking carefully at her, Atton realized the girl was Force-sensitive. Very much so, unless he was mistaken, which he wasn't; just like her sister. The thought that her sister had not been around to initiate her into the Order jabbed at Atton like a vibroshiv in the gut.
"I came first to say that… I'm sorry," Atton said, his voice breaking.
"Wow, thanks, that makes everything so much better," Ven snapped, "Especially so many years after you murdered her."
"She was amazing, your sister. She was a true Jedi; she gave her life to save mine, and I killed her for it," Atton said, taking a step back to give her a little room.
"I don't want to hear about this," Ven hissed, turning away from him.
"She showed me the truth about the Sith, about everything. And about what they would do to me, like they had to everyone else. I didn't deserve her sacrifice," Atton continued, knowing she had to hear what he had to say as much as he needed to say it.
"Stop! Get out! She's dead," Ven shouted, whipping around to face Atton.
Atton stepped closer, unafraid of the girl, though he knew what power hatred and grief could give an individual. "I came here for your sister, to save you," Atton said, keeping his voice soft.
"Get. Out."
"No. You're falling and you know it. You can't want to become what your sister fought against," Atton reasoned, surprising even himself with how he was handling the situation; patience wasn't his forte.
"Only a Force-sensitive can fall so badly, idiot," Ven snarled, "And in case you haven't notice, no Jedi ever turned up on my doorstep to train me."
But they had come for her sister. "The Order was defeated, Ven, but it's being rebuilt. And I'm telling you, they'll train you."
"Sithspit."
"It's true. I don't care what lies you tell yourself, you know the truth. And this is it," Atton said forcefully.
"You think I want to do what she did? Give my life for a bunch of mudcrutches who care more about the latest swoop race than if I live?"
"Let me show you what your sister was," Atton said, moving closer.
"Stay back!" Ven commanded, retreating into a corner, her eyes wild.
Atton stepped closer and reached out to her with the Force. He felt the walls she had thrown up around herself, but they were brittle and cracked. Gently pushing them aside, he dove in. Anger, hate, and fear buffeted him as he entered her mind, trying to throw him out or kill him. He resisted and found Ven at the core of the emotions, huddled away from it all, trying to hide. Atton touched her, feeling her shudder. Light swallowed her, swaddling her in its warmth as he remembered it doing to him. And the storm around them calmed, unlike it had done for him; he had raged stronger, killing the one who had saved him. This girl accepted the truth much faster than he had. He admired her for it.
When he finally pulled away, he had gotten a grasp of the girl's power; it was impressive to say the least. It wasn't anywhere near some of the Jedi he had encountered, but she would most definitely be an asset to the growing Jedi council. And it would save her from herself and the rotted pit of a moon she was living on; Atton knew from experience that Nar Shadaa was not the best place to find yourself.
"I… oh, gods," she murmured, putting a hand to her head. When she lifted her eyes to Atton, they were clear and happy. "Everything feels so clear. It's the opposite of black membrosia; I feel light, like…someone just lifted a planet off of me."
"Pretty insane, isn't it," he said softly.
Ven looked unsure for a moment, opened her mouth, and then closed it. Atton waited for her to speak. "This doesn't… I mean, I don't have to wear a robe or not date or anything, do I?"
Atton laughed. It had been a long time since he had felt any humor at all, and if felt good. "No, you don't. Things are…different now than they were." He looked at her with a glint in his eye, "And don't worry, you can still spew garbage like a backed-up sewer pipe; just don't do it around the Jedi. They'll gut you with their lightsabers." Just the thought of her cursing at Mira or Visas sent a shudder through Atton; the poor girl wouldn't do that again.
"Of course. What do you think I am?" Ven sniffed.
"A Jedi," Atton replied.
Ven looked struck. She smiled after a moment, shifting on her feet. "I still feel angry with you," she said quietly.
"That's fine. Just don't let it eat at you. One of the things they'll teach you is that fear leads to anger, and that leads to the dark side. Trust me, that is one place you don't want to go," Atton replied, his voice dark.
"There's…something I should tell you. You killing my sister wasn't all your fault. She went to you because she saw something in a vision; she told me first because…she knew she wouldn't be coming back," Ven said slowly, softly.
Atton froze, afraid to hear more, and yet desperate to know what happened. He didn't deserve to be forgiven, but he could live with that.
"I told her she was crazy, that someone like you would gut her and ask questions later. I was only nine and I understood it. But then she said something so odd… I don't think I'll ever forget it. She told me that by saving you she would save the Jedi, and by extension the galaxy. Can you think of something more insane to say?" Ven said, giving a weak laugh.
"Yeah, I can," Atton replied. He knew exactly what her sister had meant, though he doubted if the girl had truly understood what it was she had done. If she hadn't saved him, Case would have died or been captured on Peragus, and she most certainly would've had a problem on Nar Shaddaa and other events during their journey. By saving him, he had been able to save her, and she would save the galaxy.
Ven watched him uncomfortably. Atton could sense conflict in her; a desire to forgive and forget, healing the wounds of the past. Against that desire was her anger for her sister's death and the man who had murdered her in cold blood.
"Look, I know this won't help, and that it's too late for this crap, but… thank you for letting her save me," Atton managed to say.
"Not like I had a choice," Ven pointed out, "And if I had, I would have kept her safe and let you die."
"Fair enough. And for what it's worth, she did save the galaxy," he replied.
Ven's eyes shone just a bit in the dim light of the room. She quickly wiped at them and scowled. "I'm glad you saved me and everything, but this damn 'goodness' is making me weepy," she growled. Then, softer, "It's worth a lot to me, knowing that. It means she didn't die for nothing." Suddenly she laughed, startling Atton. "I used to hate Jedi, especially blue-siders like you. I thought they were weak and cowardly; I was angry with my sister. That's why when I saw you and how blue you were, it was like a red cape to a laigrek; and then I knew who you were – I could feel her in your head.
"She's still there, you know. When she saved you, she opened you up. I knew… you were important, but that didn't change how I felt about it. I guess if I'm going to do something with my life, I want it to be something she would be proud of."
Atton felt something at that moment, something he had felt only once before; he felt love for the girl, but in the way that he was beginning to feel for the entire galaxy – like he would give anything to save them even though they were strangers. The feeling reminded him of Case and his worry over her. That brought him back to his current mission; he had to get Ven to the new Order and then be on his way.
"Are you ready to leave?" he asked, feeling the pressure of time pushing forcefully on his shoulders.
"So soon? Gods, that's a relief. I can leave as soon as I grab my droid," Ven said, rushing past him and grabbing a sack.
"Droid?" Atton asked, his voice betraying his disgust.
"Yeah. He should be here in a second. I was actually hoping he would help me kill you, that is until you… you know. Yeah…" Ven turned and began filling her pack with things for her trip. Atton encouraged her to pack light, but not leave anything behind she would want later; there would not be a return trip very soon.
The door slid open a moment later, revealing the old, beat up droid that Atton had seen earlier. "What the frack is that thing doing here?" he asked stepping away from the unstable-looking machine.
"That's K-09D4. I call him D3," Ven said with a curious look at Atton.
"I hate droids," Atton muttered under his breath, backing farther away from the bolt bucket.
"D4 is no ordinary droid. He's been through more battles than anyone alive today. On top of that he's a hell of a slicer," Ven said proudly, slinging her pack over her shoulder. "I'm ready to leave this Force-forsaken pit." She smiled.
"Hey now, this place has a certain beauty to it," Atton teased.
"Yeah, it's like staring at the back end of a hutt. Not that there's a lot of difference between that and the front… Let's go," she growled, striding toward the door. Atton moved to follow her, but she swung around, fire blazing in her eyes. "If you try anything, I'll kill you," she warned.
"Force, you're paranoid," Atton snorted, brushing past her, "What am I going to do? Save you and then kill you? I don't know when I got so stupid."
"Okay, alright, I get it. Just move," Ven said.
The starport was, if possible, busier than when Atton had been there only half an hour ago. The crowds rushed to the shuttles as if their back ends were on fire. He looked at Ven for an explanation, figuring she would know more about the rush hours than he would. He hadn't lived on the Smuggler's Moon in years.
"They close early now, and if you don't get to your shuttle you don't go. No refunds," Ven said darkly.
Atton swore under his breath and glanced around for his ship. It was still docked and waiting for him, but he knew that if flights were being closed that it was only a matter of time before someone bought him out and flew away while he wasted another day on the moon.
"Let's go. I've got a ship to Tatooine. You come with me and we'll get you transport out from there," Atton said, jogging toward the ship.
"Tatooine? I don't think so," Ven said, looking nervous, "I don't like sand or too much sun. It's just not good for me."
"It is worse for you than being stuck here?" Atton asked, eyebrows raised.
Ven scowled and ran after him as he took off for the ship. "You're a jerk," she called up to him.
"Get used to it, kid," he shot back. The ship was waiting for them, and after a moment of haggling for the extra two passengers, they were set to leave.
As Atton sat in his seat and watched the moon of Nal Hutta fade away, he thought about what exactly he had done; he had recruited a Force-sensitive. Briefly wondering how it had been done in the old days by the Council, Atton turned to Ven. She was staring out the window at the receding planet with a look of relief on her face.
"Who's going to train me?" she asked unexpectedly.
"I don't know," Atton replied, wondering if Mical would take her on personally. Though perhaps he was too busy to take on a padawan at the moment.
That left Bao-Dur, Mira, and Visas. Atton frowned at the thought of the ragtag group of Jedi who were now responsible for the future of the galaxy. A blond idiot, a zabrak from the war with one arm, an ex-bounty hunter and honorary mandalorian, and a miraluka who was the last of her kind. Then there was Case, who was technically "broken," and himself, who had never been whole in the first place.
"Are you… I mean, do you have a padawan?" she asked hesitantly.
"No, I'm on a different mission," Atton said quickly.
"Oh," she said. Pause. "What are you doing?"
"I'm looking for someone who is helping to save the galaxy," Atton responded. He scowled as the words left his mouth; cryptic-ness seemed to be contagious.
The rest of the ride went smoothly, and Atton felt refreshed by a ride that didn't end up with him getting shot out of the sky. It was a nice change of pace. Before long the bright suns of Tatooine were shining upon them as they neared the planet. He worried briefly that his mother had moved on, as she was apt to do. But no, after reaching out through the Force he could feel her; he knew her signature well. It was subtle, and yet if looked at closely completely unusual. That was Renai Rand for you. Dear old mother. It was going to be a long visit.
So, that's it for now. I've started the next chapter. Sorry about this one; it's a little dull. But don't worry, we'll get into Case's trials on Xent then. I have a few things formulating in my head, but if there's anything you really want me to include, put it in a review and I'll see what I can do. No promises, though. ;)