Wanderer's Redemption: Esoteric Pilgrim

Chapter 4: A Brutal Exchange

Telos: Entertainment Module 081, Cantina…

Falen's hand hovered over the door mechanism. They were outside the local cantina, weapons hidden, trying to look as harmless as they could. Unfortunately, they looked far from harmless; in fact, the three of them were leaning towards the weird end of the scale. Kreia, well… the old woman could look creepy in her sleep. Now her aged face was unnaturally blank, schooled into an impassive façade. Atton, on the other hand, was practically bouncing from one foot to another, eager to get inside. His handsome face was plastered in his signature easy-going smirk, but Falen could sense the stiffness in his stance.

Before she opened the door, she turned to her companions, tawny eyes clouded as her mind planned and calculated, a thin line of thought appearing between her brows. "Ok, no violence or scenes. We're here to mix with the locals, get information and find a way into the Exchange offices."

She pointed at Atton, "No groping, annoying or fornicating with the dancing girls. Play pazzak, we could use the credits, but no shit. Got that, Rand?"

"Sure thing, Drax. Buy me a drink in there and I'll be happy to do whatever you want." He looked past her to the door, his eyes practically boring through the durasteel. His urgency couldn't have been more obvious if he'd smacked her around the head with it… and a lot less painful for all parties involved.

Falen quickly pressed the door's mechanism, and was instantly hit with a tangible wall of cigarra smoke, the smell of food and loud music. Immediately she sunk into a relaxed state, the lively ambience of the cantina calming her nerves. Around them were people, laughing, drinking and having a good time. Atton, catching the eyes of two scarlet Twi'lek women at a pazzak table moved forwards with a lazy stride. Falen let him go, finding Kreia and herself a table in the corner, overlooking the entire cantina.

Kreia sat gracefully in the offered chair, her hands folded serenely in her lap. Falen, with a lot less grace, flopped into a chair and rested her booted feet on another. Moments passed in silence, Falen scanning the crowd with an easy smile on her face, picking out potential informants and those who could possibly help her. She eavesdropped on a Republic and Onderonian soldier, who were engaged in a rather heated conversation, all the while ignoring the tension emanating from the woman beside her. Kreia had something to say, but Falen wasn't going to push, if the old lady had something to say then she would come out and say it eventually.

"I do not approve of this alliance you have formed with Chodo Habat and his Ithorians." Kreia finally stated, her voice monotonous, yet with a hint of underlying irritation.

Finally…Falen thought, slightly frowning before stating coldly, "I don't need your approval Kreia."

"Nonetheless, you should heed my advice. Habat has an agenda, and he hopes to tie you into it, to use you to his own ends." Kreia's voice had resumed its usual sagely resonance and Falen prepared for a long lecture on something.

"I don't sense he intends us any harm."

"Be that as it may, it would be best if you avoided such needless entanglements. You are too valuable to be caught up in the struggles of this planet."

Too valuable? Falen snorted derisively. When had she become valuable? "Regardless, Chodo needs our help, and I will give it."

Kreia scowled at Falen's ardent tone, the lines of her face deepening. "I cannot force you to listen to reason, only hope that you will grow past these infantile delusions of right and wrong." With that, the crone was up and gone, marching from the cantina menacingly, the crowd giving her a wide berth as she left. Falen sighed; she was once again alone with her thoughts, a bad thing under the current circumstances. Every thought was of Malak, his eyes -a deep stormy grey-, his smile, his kisses, the feel of his skin upon her own, and his words of love murmured in her ear…

"Bastard!" she hissed, bastard for making her fall in love.

I love you Falen, he'd whispered, with everything I have…

Oh how she'd loved him, with everything she'd had. Every beat of her heart for him, every breath she'd drawn only for him. In hindsight she realised she'd loved him with more than she could afford to give, because in the end she'd been left with nothing for herself.

"Stupid girl" she reprimanded herself, stupid girl for falling in love and putting yourself through so much pain.

I'll never leave you, he'd confided, I'll never let you fall…

And he never had. It was all her fault. She was the one who had left, run away to the Jedi, scared and weak. He'd never let her fall. She'd left and he'd fallen, she hadn't been there for him. No, she'd been so absorbed in her own problems -in her own exile- to see that the man she loved needed her!

"Damnit!" she growled, thumping her clenched fist on the table before her.

Flooded with anger, pain and self-loathing Falen rested her head on the table, taking a few deep breaths to dispel the feeling and calm her thundering heart. Memories… Sometimes she loved them, would sit and reminisce, thinking of the good times. Other times she would have willingly taken a blaster to head if it meant they would go away and leave her in peace. Now was one of those times. She needed a distraction, something to occupy her mind. Atton's deep laughter rumbled under the flow of the music and Falen looked sharply over in his direction.

He seemed pretty comfortable with the two women, joking and laughing over a table of pazzak cards, a charmingly careless grin on his face. Falen watched them desolately, wishing she could laugh and smile like that, be as blissfully ignorant as them. Not know about Sith, about this coming war, about Malak…

She blew out a deep breath and stood up abandoning her table to the wills of the crowd, making her way towards Atton and his girls, unsure if it was truly the best course of action. Previously being locked in an apartment with the man, it had at first started off lightly, but had quickly escalated to what Falen could only describe as blatant lust. She didn't need, nor did she want that kind of trouble right now. Men were too much trouble altogether.

Atton grinned and gestured as she saw her approaching through the crowd, knowing he could use her pazzak skills against these two fiery Twi'lek teases. One of his female counterparts eyed Falen distastefully as she approached, her lekku flicking with agitation, this new woman could be a challenge. She turned to her sister and exchanged the slightest of nods, they both agreed- a challenge indeed. The crimson pair watched as the dark-haired woman approach, sadness clinging to the corners of her eyes.

"Who is this friend of yours?" One sister asked in honeyed tones, her long lashes batting innocently.

Atton smiled at the Twi'lek sister, yes sister! He still couldn't believe his luck at snagging sisters, and twins no less. "Who? Oh…Fal? She's just my sister" He added dismissively, impressed by his own quick thinking. His excuse was effective, and both the women relaxed slightly, no longer sensing this new comer a challenge.

Falen slowed as she saw the guarded look pass between the two women, wondering what was happening. Their look's soon relaxed though, as Atton placated them with some words. Cautiously Falen reached the table, standing beside Atton's chair. She smiled warmly at the sisters, inclining her head gracefully in greeting. They returned the gesture while Atton leaned back in his chair to smile lopsidedly up at her. Fortunately for him, neither of his ladies noticed the pleading look he shot Falen.

"Hiya, Sis'."

Falling into the façade, Falen pushed all thoughts of Malak aside and played along, cuffing Atton lightly on the head with what she hoped passed for sisterly affection. The Twi'lek sisters giggled at the show and patted the vacant chair at the table, inviting Falen to sit down.

"Come, sit down pretty sister, we would enjoy your company." One purred.

"Thanks for the offer, but I was thinking of getting a drink first. Would you ladies like one?" The twins nodded thoughtfully, and Falen kneed Atton gently in the side, earning a muffled 'oof!' and more giggles from the twins. "What about you, little brother?"

Atton scowled up at her, not liking her emphasis on the word 'little'. "We'll have three Juma's thanks, Drax."

Falen snorted at this, Juma? She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, barely managing to control her laughter.

Missing the mirth in her eyes one Twi'lek looked puzzled, "Drax?"

"Unfortunate nickname" Falen shrugged before walking off towards the bar. Atton quickly excused himself from the table and rushed after her, an unhappy look on his face. Falen had just reached the bar as Atton reached her, his hand clamping on her elbow. As soon as she saw the look on his face, she bit her lip, snorting and giggling with hilarity.

"What?" He scowled, "What's so funny?"

"Juma?" She managed through giggles, "Are you kidding me? And here I was thinking you were a real cantina rat. Juma! What a lightweight!"

He glowered further at her words, and Falen all but collapsed with hysterics. She wheezed and coughed between her laughter, tears in her eyes. Noticing she was attracting some attention, Falen slowly subsided, wiping the tears from her eyes and returning her breathing to normal, although there were red marks in her lip where she had bit herself. The patrons of the bar were watching her with avid interest, wondering at the reason behind her amusement. Her face was sombre in a second, even though her lips curved at the corners.

"Juma it is then."

"Ok, Drax. You've had your fun. Let's get these drinks."

"Sure thing. Now you're sure you want a Juma? Why not go with a non-alcoholic one just to be on the safe side?"

Atton growled at the insult and she subsided, still grinning conspiratorially, and turned to the waiting Rodian barman. The alien quickly prepared their order, three glasses of Juma juice and a Correlian brandy. Atton threw a few credits in the barman's direction and viewed her beverage with a raised eyebrow, lips pursed in displeasure- one Correlian brandy was sure to knock the teetotaller Jedi flat on her arse.

"You plan on getting blind before the nights out?"

"Although that would be a nice- I'm afraid not. Kreia would surely kill me, I need to keep on my toes to keep you out of trouble and no single ale's gonna get me anywhere other than relaxed."

Falen gathered up the four drinks, carrying them all easily. Being the gentleman he wasn't, Atton watched her threaten to drop his drink with a raised brow before he finally took two glasses from her. He surreptitiously looked around the cantina, noticing a dark-skinned man with two Rodian bodyguards was watching their progress from a secluded corner, or more so, watching Falen's progress.

"You know…" Falen began conversationally, seemingly unaware of her observer, "I almost feel sorry for those two."

"Who? The twins?" He asked, brows knotting in perplexity. "Why's that?"

"Well, first off, their taste in men." She stuck out her tongue to demonstrate her distaste.

"Oh, very cute, Drax. Any cuter and you could pass for a rare Gamorrean beauty." He muttered, chuckling in spite of himself. Atton continued, keeping his face blank and his voice low, "You know that guy over there is watching you."

"I know. He and the purple woman have been watching both of us for the better part of ten minutes."

Atton looked around madly for this 'purple woman', finding her not far from the dark man, a self-assured set to her shoulders and surrounded by two tonnes of Gamorrean bodyguard. No wonder she looked confident. "Wow" He added aloud and giving a low whistle, "purple woman has a nice rack."

Falen grimaced. "Behave. Remember, we have a job to do. I'll sweeten those two up and see if they can give us any information on the Exchange."

Atton made a guttural growl of displeasure but kept quiet. He didn't like messing with the Exchange; it was like poking a disgruntled Leigrek with a very shot stick. Falen on the other hand was looking forward to it, finding out where the Ebon Hawk had gone and sorting out this bounty that hovered over her head like some thundercloud. She handed Atton the remaining Juma juice she carried, disappearing into the crowd, her Correlian brandy in hand. As she mingled she sipped her drink, feeling the alcohol slip silkily down her throat and slowly blossom in her mind like some metaphorical flower. The gentle, consuming warmth of the spirit comforted her and she set out on her task, trying to look inconspicuous- something she'd become very good at over the last nine years. She watched the dancers, recognising one as the Twi'lek sold by her boyfriend, and Falen promised herself that she would release the poor woman… as soon as she had gathered enough credits to buy out her owner. Falen could feel three pairs of eyes following her around the cantina at all times, one was Atton's, the other two were her observers. Eventually, she was listening to the band when she felt someone step up beside her, standing too close for coincidence.

The dark-skinned man smiled down at her, his white teeth sparkling against his dusky skin. His eyes were almost black in the dim halogen glow of the dance floor, while her own were turned a deep green under the pulsing blue lights. He was surrounded by an almost suffocating air of self-importance and Falen almost gagged at the alcohol fumes that emanated from him. She held his gaze unerringly, with a look of unamused disinterest in her eyes, hoping to discourage or at least intimidate him. Unfortunately, he was too far gone to notice, being at the stage of an alcohol-induced stupor when no meant yes and disgusted female glances were practically invitations.

"Ah, so you're the Jedi everyone's been whispering about. No more trouble with the TSF, I hope?" He smiled lopsidedly; his finger's playing idly with her braids. Falen jerked her head away quickly, distaste etched on her face.

"You should keep out of matters that don't concern you." She replied casually, knowing that drunks like this can get riled up on virtually anything and angry tones didn't help the situation at all.

"Perhaps you don't know who I am." He looked affronted, like the kind of man who didn't her 'no' from a woman very often.

"Someone with an inflated view of himself?" She snapped tartly.

"You haven't been on Citadel Station long, have you? Let me introduce myself. I'm Benok, the man in charge of Loppak Slusk's protection." Falen's eyes sparked with interest, finally he was getting somewhere. "You do know who Loppak Slusk is, don't you?" He motioned behind him with a careless wave of his had, to the two Rodians waiting patiently. "The two gentlemen with me are Matu and Nahata, Slusk's finest men. Other than me of course."

"Oh leave the woman alone, Benok. I bet she'd come out on top if you fought." The purple woman joined the conversation, safe behind the bulk of her bodyguards. Falen turned expectantly to this 'Benok', waiting for his retort.

"Now Luxa, I meant no disrespect. You're probably Slusk's strongest woman." Benok's words were complementary, with a sting of condescendence- as if he were reassuring a small child.

Despite his antagonistic attitude Luxa shrugged dismissively, "It's your skin Benok. Just warning you- Slusk could easily replace you."

"She's right." Falen added, grinning into her brandy. "Mess with me and you're dead."

Outmatched on both sides Benok was wise enough to back down. "Well, we were just leaving anyway." He turned tail and walked away, calling his Rodians to him with a muttered, "Come on."

"Coward" Falen sighed.

Now beside her Luxa nodded, "A wise coward. You know, I heard about what happened at the docks. Can we talk for a bit?"

Sensing no intended harm from this woman and now knowing of her Exchange connections, Falen sensed a partnership could be forged that would be beneficial for both parties. "Yes, go on."

"I handle vice- you know, spice gambling, the good things in life- for the local Exchange boss, Loppak Slusk." Falen nodded casually, trying not to look too eager. Luxa tucked some of her cropped red hair behind her ear and continued. "That squid and don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, you being one of them."

Falen's eyebrows shot up, the Exchange was discussing her? Well of course they were, she mentally reprimanded herself, she did have a rather hefty bounty on her head. "What does this have to do with me?" She queried warily.

"Look," Luxa stated bluntly, getting tired of this pointless banter. "Are you really Jedi?"

"No" Falen answered flatly, no emotion in her face.

"Exactly." Luxa grinned, the woman was playing right into her hands… or so she thought. "This Exchange bounty has nothing to do with you- but Slusk, my boss, won't listen to me." Her voice changed from mildly irritated to aroused in a second, throwing Falen off balance. "Still, you seem a very capable sort. Tell me, are you a capable sort?"

Falen tried not to take a big step backwards, "I'm capable, yes"

"Good, I like that in a woman." Luxa winked at Falen and returned to business. "So here it is- help me with Loppak Slusk, and I'll keep the Exchange off your back- and find your missing ship."

Heartened at the prospect of finding The Ebon Hawk and possibly lifting the bounty, Falen quickly accepted Luxa's offer. "What's your problem with Slusk?"

The two bent closer as they discussed the delicate details of their mutual partnership, Luxa giving Falen sufficient information to get her into the Exchange offices unnoticed. They agreed upon a time for their attack and Luxa took her leave, bringing Falen's knuckles to her lips, murmuring, "We'll speak again, then. Best of luck, beautiful."

The Exile smiled sweetly and nodded, resisting the urge to grimace and wash her knuckles repeatedly. Once Luxa disappeared from sight she cleaned her knuckled on her clothes, hastily drinking the remaining dregs of her ale, hoping to find succour in the warming amber liquid. Relaxed, and feeling easier with a defined purpose Falen looked around the cantina for Atton, she only had four hours to prepare before her assault of the Exchange was set to begin. To her surprise he was making his way through the crowds towards her, winding with a serpentine grace that seemed out of place with his size. Tall, broad shouldered and narrow waisted, Atton was the kind of man who possessed a loping grace that suited his long-legged frame. He grinned down at her, his smile endearing and sleazy at the same time.

"Saw you getting pretty friendly with the purple lady with the nice rack. How'd you go on the information front?"

Falen beamed with pride, "Her name's Luxa and I've got four hours before I sneak into the Exchange officers, and 'negotiate' with Loppak Slusk."

"Haven't you been busy then? You do know that 'Luxa' will screw you over the first chance she gets. She's Exchange scum, it's in her nature."

She chuckled, "Oh well, I'll just have to work her 'screwing' to our advantage."

Falen placed her empty glass on the tray of a passing serving droid and made her way off the dance floor, Atton dutifully in tow, and all the while deep in thought. She welcomed Atton's help, he was handy with a blaster, but just his presence set her on edge. So far she'd made a long list of reasons why she should make him leave, as well as a few insults in case they would be needed. She had enough on her plate with Sith and a cranky, prophetic old woman, the last thing she need was a self-proclaimed ladies man staring at her arse all day… which is exactly what he was doing at the moment.

Sighing, she thrust a violent hand into her fringe, wiping the black strands away from her eyes. Free of the crowd Falen made good speed towards the door, struck by a sudden and overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. Nine years she had been without ties, floating almost bodiless through space under various aliases, and now she had a war to fight, a master and the Force. She wanted a few moments of peace in which to clear her head. Unfortunately, she had no such luck. Only footsteps away from the door Atton's hand clasped onto her shoulder with and iron grip, spinning her on her heels to face him. Surprised, angered and extremely unwilling, Falen captured his wrist in a vice-like grip, her nails bitting through the leather of his gloves and into his flesh.

"You don't ever touch me. If I'm about to step in front of a damn rampaging Zakkeg, you don't so much as reach out to pull me back. We clear?"

Her eyes were bright with anger –almost predatory. Her nails bit deeper into his flesh as she waited for an answer, eyes narrowing menacingly as he stared blankly at her. Finally he ripped his wrist out of her grasp, still holding her eyes steadily with his own.

"Crystal" He snarled, barely contained anger in his voice.

Still fuelled by her rage Falen dug into her pockets and pulled out a handful of credits chips, throwing them at him. The credit chips bounced of his stunned face, if she weren't so angry she would have found the sight hilarious.

"There's your share of the spoils" She stated indifferently, feeling disembodied. "Go find some Twi'lek joy girl to ogle."

Burned by the harsh remark Atton shook his head defiantly, a cocky smile gracing his lips, "Oh no way, sister. Just for that remark I think I'll stick around for a while."

"Why Atton?" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in a mixture of anger and exasperation, "You got of Peragus, you're a free man. I don't need your help, I can handle myself… I've been doing it for nine years."

"Look Drax," He replied cautiously, stoping to think and picking his words carefully. "If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you're able to handle yourself. But I don't trust the old witch. Force! I wouldn't even wish her on Darth Revan. I can't get off this hole of a planet without your help; we're in the same boat honey. I need you, you need me."

Falen snorted disbelievingly and he continued, trying to lighten the mood. "And maybe I wanna get in on your little adventure…"

She laughed quietly and shook her head, "This is far from an adventure, but… I guess I could use your help."

"Good" He grinned, "Now was that so painful to admit?"

She released her breath in a sigh of defeat, her anger dissipating rapidly. No longer blinded by her anger and inner turmoil Falen noticed something, "What happened to the twins?"

"Oh them…" He shrugged lamely, scratching the back of his neck nonchalantly. "They ran out of credits."

Falen raised a slim eyebrow inquisitively, but Atton ignored the gesture and stooped to pick up the credits she had thrown at him. He bundled the credits into the palm of his gloved hand, offering them to her, not daring to reach out and place them into her hand. Smiling at his effort not to touch her Falen extended her hand and delicately plucked the credits from his palm, accepting the gesture for what it was- an offer of friendship.

Atton chuckled and motioned to the doors, opening them for her. "Come on then, Drax. We'd better get back before the witch dismembers me for leading you astray."

Citadel Station: Residential Module 082…

"That was smart, Drax… real smart."

"One more word, Rand." Falen hissed and grit her teeth as another wave of pain washed over her. "And you'll be missing vital parts of your anatomy…"

"The fool is correct Exile; it was thoughtless of you to barge into the Quarren's presence without first sensing the room within."

Disbelieving, Falen's eyes darted back and forth between her companions, her mouth hanging open. "How was I supposed to know the fraking squid had a turbolaser hidden under his desk!"

Her hands moved animatedly as she talked and she forgot herself in her tirade, leaning heavily on her injured leg and nearly falling arse over ion engine. Atton instantly moved to her aid as a thin wail of pain escaped her lips, catching her as she teetered dangerously to one side. He coiled an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, seemingly immune to her deadly glare. She uselessly fought against his embrace, her nails biting into the flesh of his forearm, maliciously pulling the hairs from his arms in a further escape attempt.

"Atton let me go! I can walk by myself!" she cried, passing Telosian's watching the scene with avid interest.

"Honey, you have a piece of durasteel the length of my forearm imbedded in your leg. I'm afraid you're not going to be walking anywhere."

"Well whose fault is that! You're the one who shot at the turbolaser while I was standing next to it."

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Stop being so childish! Both of you." Kreia barked, the squabbling pair instantly falling silent- Atton scowling at Kreia, while Falen tried as hard as she could to burn a hole through the side of Atton's head with her gaze alone. The crone clasped her stump in her remaining hand and pressed her furrowed lips into a thin line, displeasure emanating from under her hood.

"We must heal you Exile. I admit I am drained of my power from the previous battles and I doubt the fool has any skill in healing."

Falen nodded thoughtfully and gingery ran a finger down the length of the cut in the material of her combat suit. The reinforced blue cloth was stained a ruddy brown around the edges, bright red muscle flesh visible if anyone was so inclined to pull the material further apart. The imbedded shard of durasteel was barely evident, the bulk of the shrapnel buried deep within the Vastus lateralis muscle of her thigh. A liberal amount of the Force applied to the wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Get me to the Medical centre; I've stitched up worse than this in my time…"

And she had. During her time as a Jedi Knight she had studied the medical arts, her skills proving invaluable during the ensuing Mandalorian Wars. She had sown soldiers limbs back onto their bodies, reattached lost digits and closed rents in flesh that paled her current wound into insignificance. She herself had suffered far worse than this current injury… far, far worse.

Atton nodded at her words and moved to heft her into his arms. Falen took an extreme step away from him, turning various shades of grey and green. There was a sickly scraping noise as the shard of metal rasped against her femur. She gave a strangled cry and collapsed against Atton's chest, his arms automatically warping around her.

"You seem to be making a habit of collapsing against me, Drax." He teased, trying to distract her from the pain, "Not that I'm complaining, mind."

His words fell on deaf ears. Falen's head was buried in the surprisingly soft fabric of his outer shirt, and her eyes clenched shut as she concentrated on her breathing and pain alleviation techniques. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, trying to match the beat of her heart to the steady rhythm of Atton's that pounded against her ear.

"Pick her up, fool." Kreia commanded.

"The 'fool' will do want he wants." Atton retorted. He looked down at the woman in his arms, her hands fisted in the material of his shirt as she dealt with the pain. He felt guilty knowing he'd inadvertently caused her pain, but if he hadn't shot at the turbolaser they would all probably be plasma scorches on the floor of the Quarren's office. Why couldn't the witch have been standing next to the turbolaser? He shifted Falen in his arms, leaning down to hook one arm around her knees.

"You ready, Drax?"

"I hate you, Rand." She ground out through clenched teeth.

He chuckled and in one swift motion swept her up off her feet. Falen bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from screaming as the metal once again scraped against her femur with a wet grating sound. Blood welled from her bottom lip; such was the intensity of her bite. Her face was ashen, crimson blood staining her pallid lips. Waves of pain had her head spinning and she groaned softly, her head slumped against Atton's shoulder. Now off her feet more of the bloodied shrapnel protruded further from the wound and the surrounding Telosian's gasped in horror, Atton felt his own stomach turn at the grisly sight. One of the women in the crowd began to mutter about the 'bastard' Czerka mercenaries and neither Atton nor Falen were disposed to correct her.

"C'mon, Falen… talk to me, honey." Atton murmured to Falen as he followed Kreia to the med bay, trying to keep her conscious and lucid.

"Geez Rand, stop acting like I'm dying. I'll be fine." She mumbled, now looking a lot calmer than she had previously. The fact that she was in Atton's arms once again had her wide awake with shame and awkwardness. She pressed her lips into a thin line and concentrated on an old Jedi meditation technique that she had been taught as a child, the gentle swaying of his body as he moved aiding her slip into another consciousness. She closed her eyes and turning her senses inward, hearing the beat of her heart, the rush of her blood, every sound of her internal activities was there and she could pinpoint each one. Her conscious travelled lazily through her veins until she came to the site of her wound. The shrapnel was alien in her body, disrupting the harmonious melody of her inner workings. She examined it, a long thin shaft of metal, shaped like an elongated triangle with it's nose buried very deep in her thigh… she was going to need internal sutures.

"Exile? Awaken. We have arrived at the medical centre."

Falen opened her eyes sluggishly, reluctant to leave the peace of her own body. She was sitting on a bed in the Medical centre, Kreia and Atton watching her, the Onderon diplomat behind them looking nervous. Atton moved away rummaging through nearby containers for medical supplies, the diplomat taking his place at Falen's side.

"I have advanced medical training ma'am, should you need my services?"

Falen smiled up at the concerned bald man blearily and shook her head, "No thank you, I have medical training myself."

Atton returned moments later with handfuls of equipment- kolto patches, a scalpel, forceps, needle and thread. He sat the tools on a small tray and placed it next to her. The diplomat looked on wide-eyed.

"You're going to operate without an anaesthetic!"

Falen shrugged and laid her injured leg out on the bed, twisting on an odd angle to reach the wound. She grabbed the scalpel, and motioned for Atton to hold her leg still. He obliged, and Falen used the scalpel to cut the material away from the wound. The diplomat hissed as he saw the extent of the wound, her leg distorted with the shrapnel under the skin, the flesh a mottled red. Gritting her teeth Falen used the scalpel to open the wound further, making the eventual removal of the shrapnel easier. Wiping the welling blood away with her sleeve she discarded the scalpel for the forceps, getting a good grip on the shrapnel before yanking it from her leg. She grunted and paled as she pulled, but never uttered a word, reopening the bites on her lower lip. The metal came away with a wet, sucking sound, strings of congealed blood clinging to the shard.

Atton gave a chocked cry, his eyes wide and his face pallid. He'd seen many gruesome things in his time, some buy his own hand, but seeing this woman pull that shard of metal from her own leg without any form of anaesthetic irked him beyond reason. Panting and pallid, Falen placed the shrapnel to one side, picking up the sutures and dissolvable thread. She tried to thread the needle but her hands shook so badly it was impossible, instead the diplomat stepped forward and with a stern glance, took the needle and thread and proceeded to stitch the torn muscle back together. Falen heaved a relieved sigh and laid her head on her shoulder, wiping away the beads of cold sweat rolling down her forehead with her already bloodied sleeve, seemingly unaware of the bite of the needle sewing her flesh. Atton gave her a weak smile and she returned it, feeling a lot calmer as Kreia's knobbly hand rested gently at the small of her back, the crone using the Force to ease away the aching there.

"You have done well Exile; I have rarely seen such a display of resilience. Few Jedi can handle such pain without calling upon the Force; your exile has set you apart." The older woman murmured in her mind, it was no longer safe to mention the words 'Jedi' or 'Force' around just anyone these days.

Falen accepted the accolade with a curt nod, too distracted by the feel of the Onderonian diplomat smoothing the light blue kolto gel into her wound. The gel was cool and thick, applied in a soft lather over her ravaged tissues and as welcome as a cold draught on Tatooine. For moments she lost herself in the simple, mindless bliss the healing gel provided. Silence ruled, the diplomat quietly intent on his work, Kreia watching all in the room with her unnatural apartness and Atton now standing at the end of the bed watching the diplomat's ministrations nonchalantly.

"Atton?" Falen called tersely, in no mood to put up with Atton's sullen hovering. "Could you please go and inform the Ithorians that we've… completed their task?"

He cast a speculative glance between Kreia and the diplomat before nodding reluctantly and leaving the Medical centre. With the 'fool' gone Kreia dismissed the diplomat with a few harsh words. The diplomat looked scandalised at the thought of having to leaving his patient with a gaping leg wound that required stitches, but he was no hero and had no wish to cross the formidable old woman. Kreia watched the diminutive man leave the room with the air of a bird of prey, watching her respective meal with arrogant indifference. Falen chuckled as an image of Kreia sprang to mind, perched on some branch, a beak sprouting out from under her hood. Kreia silenced her chuckling student with a wave of lashing rebuke sent through their bond.

"We have much to discuss Exile, and your attention span is sadly lacking."

"Well then," Falen replied tartly, put out by Kreia's derision. "I shall strive to live up to your expectations."

Oddly, Kreia stilled. Fixing the Exile with her tangible gaze, "I'm sure you will…" Falen felt the hairs on her arms rise at the prophetic timbre in the older woman's voice.

"But first…" Kreia muttered, sitting gracefully at the end of Falen's bed and placing a soothing hand on her abused limb. The Exile moaned in ecstasy as Kreia once again channelled the Force into her injured flesh, her leg buzzing with the amount of power surging through it. The hag dug her fingers into the open wound, Falen crying out in pain as well as shock. As they probed, Kreia's fingers manipulated and seduced the living tissue to bind itself back together. She murmured as she worked, her hand now slick with kolto and blood. Soon the wound was gone, no scar remaining; only a smudge of blood and kolto marred the creamy skin.

Her task complete, Kreia sat back with a satisfied smile on her face. Falen on the other hand was still feeling rather nauseous from the sudden and shocking invasion of her flesh. It had unsettled her greatly to feel Kreia's fingers within her wound, a feeling that brought unwanted memories to mind.

"Now, we must talk." Kreia said, completely ignorant or ignoring Falen's discomfort- most likely the latter. "You must do something about this 'Atton'. He is not to be trusted, a liability. The fool is an accessory, to be used and discarded once he has fulfilled his purpose. I believe his extended presence may stunt your potential, Exile, and that is something we cannot risk."

Falen nodded evasively, still unsure of her own opinion regarding the scoundrel. He most definitely a distraction –a tempting distraction- but still the kind that was too dangerous to be risked. Kreia was right, she tried to convince herself, he was an accessory. A really strange, intriguing, sexy accessory. She really loved accessories.

Not a productive train of thought.

"He's with us until we get off-planet, Kreia. We need him to fly the Hawk… once we find it. After that we'll sort something out." Falen concluded lamely, unsure as to whether the older woman's displeasure was caused by her earlier thoughts or her evasive answer. Kreia extended her hand towards the reclined Exile, helping her to her feet. Falen wobbled slightly, her previously injured leg still a little weak and unstable. Kreia watched her student struggle with a smile tugging at the corner of her thin lips.

"The weakness is all in your head Exile, your leg is fine."

Falen shot her master a dark look before stepping forward strongly, amazed to find that her leg was completely fine. She'd been away from the Force too long and its benefits had irked her since she regained her sensitivity. She was thrifty in using her newfound powers and senses. She had learnt in her exile to read the mind of men and women alike, it was not a hard task, as long as you knew what to look for. Many Jedi lessons she had learnt as a child remained, deep-rooted within her mind, while others were returning daily. Some discarded, some she kept. Falen was determined not to be the naïve Jedi she once was.

Kreia watched a various array of emotions flit across Falen's face, hearing the woman's thoughts as they ran through her head. She smiled, things were going to plan. Her student could not grow without change, not triumph without the realisation that the Jedi were useless- dead guardians of a dead age, grown fat and arrogant in the times of peace. She could see it happening, the Jedi lies were falling from Falen's eyes, the young woman was seeing them for what they truly were.

"Let us hurry from this place, Exile. I am anxious to be rid of this empty place and free of the imbecile."

Falen nodded, also anxious to be free of the strangely haunting emptiness that permeated Citadel Station. Through the Force every planet had its on feel, but this place was empty, there was nothing but the despair and pain of its inhabitants and their memories. It was unsettling, to feel nothing as you walked through the plain corridors of the Station with space on the other side of five inches of transparasteel and feel no emotions, no life force… only despair.

"We should go and see the Ithorian's, I have a feeling they still have another task for us."

"A task for you, Exile. They are your allies. I am merely here to watch and teach you."

A/N: Okie dokies. Finally finished this chapter, it was a real pain to write for some reason. I apologise for the lateness of this update, I've been so busy. Went down to Perth for school camp last week, we went surfing and paintballing. IT HURT! I still have bruises the size of tennis balls. Lol, anyway, on the subject of the Atton X Falen romance, there is no romance as of yet, moreover a dynamic attraction. Neither is too eager to get entangled in any type of romantic situation, which will be all the more fun to mess with. I didn't think anyone would like to read a simlpe drag through the Exchange offices soI cut that part out, hope ya don't mind!

Atashi: I fell in love with the name Falen when I first met a girl with the name. Afterwards I found out that the name was Celtic and meant 'grandchild of the ruler'.

Review pleeze! My next update should come pretty soon so keep your eyes peeled. Thankz to everyone who's reviewed so far, I can't believe it's only three chapters and already its got 14 reviews!