Wanderer's Redemption: Esoteric Pilgrim
Chapter 7: Snow White Queen
Telos: Location Classified…
Falen gave a joyous whoop as the giant fell, its demise a great sonorous rumble that made the very walls tremble. The Tank Droid was destroyed, lying on its side and covered in battle scoring. Her companions shared her relief at the defeat of such an opponent. Whichever crazed Telosian scientist who had designed the monstrous droid – which was very out of character, Telosian's being predominately farmers and artists – had most definitely been on spice. And with the making of such a droid why did they hide it in a hangar storage bay? Honestly, the logic of farmers!
She scrambled atop the prostrate hunk of metal, tearing away amour plating to open up the grenade compartments within. You can never have enough grenades, as Falen had so recently learned. Running out of grenades against this thing had been nearly fatal. Thankfully she and Kreia had been able to subdue the droid, but with liberal amounts of the Force. Now both were exhausted. She may not have enough energy left to heal what wounds her companions had suffered.
Even now, sitting atop a defunct droid the size of an orbital shuttle, Falen was running a diagnosis of her companions. Atton seemed to have the worst injury. His right arm was dislocated, hanging at his side on a sickeningly odd angle. During the battle the droid had fired a grenade at the scoundrel, the frag blast had not injured him overmuch, but in throwing himself away from the blast Atton had landed on his arm at a wrong angle and dislocated his shoulder joint. He seemed to be bearing up well enough, even if a little grey faced and thinned lipped. Bao was covered in cuts and bruises, and already plastering himself up with medpacks. Kreia was merely exhausted by her use of the Force; Falen herself was amazed at the older woman's stamina. After fighting their way through a small army of Telosian combat droids and turrets Kreia had still managed to pool enough Force energy to help bring down the massive Tank Droid. As for herself she was well enough, a few minor scrapes here and there, maybe a broken rib by her pained breathing and a whole lot of bruises. The damn droid had been outfitted with more weapons that an entire military squad! Grenade launchers, flame throwers, and high powered amour piercing blaster rounds were enough incentive to have her hoping around the hangar like a Nal Hutta hop-toad.
"I will procure supplies from that storage bay, Exile." Kreia said from her place beside the droid, the lines of her face etched harder by her exhaustion.
"As you wish, Kreia." Falen replied, sitting down atop the droid, holding a hand to her pained side. "Bao, will you prepare the shuttle for launch?"
The Zabrak nodded and disappeared up the shuttles ramp. That left Atton. "Atton, I would ask you to get inside the shuttle and sit yourself down, I need to reset your shoulder."
"Sure thing, Fal." The scoundrel drawled, although his voice was tight with pain. "How can I refuse when you ask so politely?" he was putting on a brave face even though his arm was most likely causing enough pain to merit a faint. Men!
He disappeared up the ramp and Falen was grateful that he had obliged so easily, but then again, most people became more agreeable when confronted by pain. Falen slipped of the droid instead of jumping, which could only damage her rib more. If it was indeed broken –as she suspected it was- then jumping around might cause her to puncture her lung and that would be hell. She would be of no use with a punctured lung. On the ground once again she made her way towards the hangar control room, there what supplied they already had were waiting. In the corridor outside the hangar mess and control room a small pile of backpacks were unceremoniously heaped. Falen gathered what she could, being careful not to strain herself. She made sure to pick up her personal pack containing her meagre belongings. Inside was her datapad that doubled as a journal -definitely something she wouldn't want to fall into anyone else's hands- and other odds and ends she had picked up. The only other real thing she owned was her alloy bracer that she had had in the wars. She was wearing it though.
"Can you get me out of here please?!" a male voice pleaded in Twi'lek. By the door leading further into the base stood a green male Twi'lek in Czerka uniform, although he was bordering on a strange shade of grey rather than green. Falen was sorely tempted to leave him here, after all she had no love for Czerka, but her conscience won out.
"See that door there?" she motioned to the door at the opposite end of the hangar, it was the way they had originally entered the base. "Just go through that door and keep walking until you find your way out. My friends and I already dispatched anything out there so the way's safe."
The Twi'lek bowed and spurted a litany of thankyous but Falen was no longer listening. She could only carry four packs at the upmost and that meant she still had two trips to make before she could get all the packs onboard, not to mention relocate Atton's and fix her own broken rib. The fact that she was no longer listening was dismissal enough for the Czerka scavenger and he bolted for the door she had indicated. Falen was glad to see him go. She hefted what packs she could and hauled them up the shuttle ramp. Once inside she placed the packs carefully on one of the two benches that ran the length of the ship. Atton was sitting uneasily on the other.
He grinned at her readily enough, so he couldn't be in that much pain. Some brave face, she thought wryly, if he wasn't grinning at her Falen was sure he'd be faced own on the durasteel by now. She set her shoulders resolutely, examining his dislocated shoulder from this distance. If she left it much longer fluid would build up, making the relocation harder and put him in far more pain. She would have to get those packs afterwards then. But, the physical strength required relocating that shoulder might be too much with her broken rib –which was defiantly broken, she could feel it with every breath- and could cause it to puncture her lung. Atton started to look worried and Falen realised she had been glaring at his shoulder.
"Bao, I may need your help with this." She said and the Zabrak rose from his place in the pilots chair to stand beside her. He eyed Atton shoulder speculatively. Atton shifted uneasily in his seat, cautious of his throbbing arm. His mouth fixed in a petulant from. "No need to act like I'm on trial guys…"
Falen's mind was a buzz, listing off possibilities and such without a conscious effort. If she positioned the limb and got Bao to provide the physical strength then she would escape further injury. She stepped forward, and with Bao-Dur's help removed Atton's ribbed jacket. It had to be removed carefully, as not to twist the injured shoulder muscles further. Once the jacket was set aside his outer shirt was next. The pale cream linen came away easily enough; it was a big enough shirt that pulling it off over his head was not much trouble. Atton grinned lecherously at her as she removed his shirt, his train of thought easy to read.
He was no better that a lusty Gamorrean at times.
With all the outer clothing removed Atton was clad in his brown under-singlet. His shoulder was a sight, a sickening lump sticking out of the back, the ball of the Humerus hand risen and twisted, lifting itself out of the joint - now both Humerus and the Acromion bone rose oddly, giving the left shoulder a hunched effect. Atton glanced at the damaged shoulder and paled. Falen laid a gentle hand, using her fingers to gauge the tension of the twisted muscles and also using the Force to Delve the injury and see the extent from the inside. Delving was a medical practise common among Jedi. Using small amounts of the Force one could create a mental map of the inside of a person's body, locating injuries and disease quickly.
"Okay, Bao, this is what I need you to do…" Falen took the man's hand and placed one on Atton's elbow and one on his wrist. "When I count to three you pull down, twist and push back up as hard as you can, I'll guide the bone back into its socket."
He nodded and settled himself determinedly. Falen placed one hand flat against Atton's back, she would need it to help push, the other griped the protruding bones delicately. As Bao pushed Falen would need to twist the bones downward so they slipped back into place. She grounded herself and glanced down at Atton, who was staring at her in turn. There was pain in those soulful brown eyes, although the man would loath to admit it.
"One."
Atton took a deep breath, turning grey.
"Two."
He clenched his teeth, preparing for the pain.
"Three."
In a coordinated effort of strength and skill the shoulder gave a sickly crunching pop and was back in place. Bao and Atton grinned triumphantly, a healthy pallor returning to the scoundrels face. Falen bit back the pain in her side and returned their grins. She put on her best commanding tone and patted Atton on his bare shoulder.
"It may not hurt right now, but it will soon. Whack some kolto on there now and it'll lessen the pain later. But don't overextend the joint for a few days yet, it's still fragile."
He surprised her by answering without his usual cheek, nodding solemnly and seeming to actually take her advice seriously. Falen hoped it was the beginning of a trend. Atton loved to play the idiot, and idiots annoyed her… idiots got themselves killed. If he got himself killed through carelessness then Falen knew she would blame herself, after all, no matter what she said to herself she was the one who had gotten him into this. Just like Bao. If either of them died their names would go on the list of loss in her mind, alongside Malak, and add theirs to her little bundle of guilt.
"You okay, Gorgeous?" Atton said, snapping her out of her reverie. "You look like you're going to be sick."
"Oh?" she said, quickly composing herself and flashing the pair a wicked smile. "I was thinking about you, Rand. It often makes me sick."
Bao snorted and returned to the pilot's seat, continuing his launch preparations. Kreia appeared on the entry ramp laden with supply packs. Falen rushed to relieve her of some of her burden, and Atton in turn rushed to relieve Falen of some of hers. He looked rather ridiculous carrying supply packs with one arm, the other dangling uselessly at his side. At least he was following her advice and going easy on that arm.
Kreia shook her head admonishingly at Falen. "Two broken ribs, Exile. You should be more careful."
"It's kinda hard to be careful when I'm about to be crushed." Falen snapped tartly. Two? She thought she had only broken one.
"One would think that such would be a great enough incentive, but you seem to delight in injuring yourself, Exile. Sit down and let me heal you, those ribs pain me as much as they pain you and I will not put up with them for much longer."
As much as she scowled and grumbled Falen obeyed, sitting down on the bench as the crone placed her remaining hand on her injured side and healed it with little fuss. The job done Falen drew a huge breath, releasing it in a sigh of relief. She could breathe easier now. Her side tingled and buzzed with left over Force energy, it was an unusual, yet welcome feeling.
Kreia settled herself down on the durasteel in a meditation pose. Falen watched the crone from the corner of her eye. It had been a long time since Falen had meditated, well, only three days, but three days was long for a Jedi to go without. She was tempted to join the older woman but sleep beckoned with its siren call. Eyelids drooped and she stifled a yawn behind the back of her hand. Her bodysuit itched abominably. Oh how she longed to be clean! Grabbing her personal pack she settled down on the bench, using it as a pillow. It was not perfect, but she was in no mood to care.
"Have a good sleep, General." Bao called to her. "We've got an eight hour flight to the poles so have a good sleep."
Falen smiled in his direction and closed her eyes, falling into breathing techniques that had become habit for her before falling asleep. She drew a deep breath and counted to five, exhaled, counted to five, deep breath, five, exhale, five…
The aches and pains of the past days melted away as she was warmly embraced by dreams.
Orbital Shuttle: En route to Telos Polar Region… ETA 3:50:00…
The ship was quiet, save for the hum of the engines and the breathing of those sleeping. The scoundrel was at the controls, singing away to himself in Huttesse. Kreia's mouth twisted disgustedly at the sound. The language of the slug-like swap beings was rough and inelegant. Enough to have her retching. Rough and inelegant… much like the pilot. Fool. How she itched to squeeze the life out of his idiot body. But that would come later… for now he had a use, it was hidden, but the Force could not keep its plans from her for long.
Rising silently to her feet Kreia used a small weave of the Force to dampen any sound she made. Stealth was pivotal at this point in time. The Exile was hiding things from her, past horrors most likely, but in light of the incident of Citadel Station, powerful enough to make her weak. She needed to know these horrors; she needed to know everything about her Exile in order to predict the woman's movements. Such an erratic and petulant student, but powerful… like her predecessors. Kreia was never one to abandon such a powerful student with a destiny, like the one the Exile had before her. It was an indecency. Despite the Exile's rashness she was easily manipulated and steered. How Kreia longed to see her best student again. Revan had been keen and shrewd, with a mind like a sponge. A most worthy student. But, alas, the Exile was not a consular like Revan had once been. The Exile was once a sentinel, such a nosy and interfering class. Always sticking their noses into the dark, believing in redemption. Ha! Thankfully, the sentinel's did not have the warrior skill of a guardian or they would such a trouble to kill.
Making her way swiftly to the sleeping Exile Kreia placed a hand on her dark brow. The woman stirred and murmured in her sleep before settling down. Kreia hoped this would be easy, for she had no desire to use Compulsion on the Exile and make her tell her secrets. Such force upon one's mind could be damaging. No, slipping in one's mind while they slept was far easier, as their minds were made vulnerable by dreams. She must do this now though, while the Exile was still weak in the Force. As her strength grew so would her senses and slipping into her mind would be most difficult, near impossible.
Using the Force Kreia Delved the sleeping woman, checking she was deep enough to sleep though. The Exile was deep in her sleep and Kreia slowly slid her consciousness through the Force and into the younger woman's mind. The minds currents carried her from dream to dream, and Kreia learned much. Images played before her like holo-films. From Mandalorians, to Revan, a dark-haired man with startling blue eyes, a dusty floor covered in blood, and finally Malak, grinning with such love and warmth.
Ahhh… things were clearer now. So she had been involved with Revan's puppy. Intriguing. The ties of this little group grew deeper and deeper. No wonder the Jedi had feared her, with the darkness in her blood and the breaking of her chastity vows with this man, she was a threat as great as Revan herself to the Jedi Order.
Slowly, slipping out of the woman's mind as not to waker her Kreia grinned. She had learned much this night. Her grin was dark and dangerous. It was the grin of a predator.
Again she settled down on the durasteel flooring. She found her favourite meditation pose, content with her work. It had been most productive. Now she must meditate on the images she had found within her students mind… most intriguing…
Polar Regions: Abandoned Mesa…
Falen stood alone in the abandoned chamber. The snows of this region still clung to her bones even though she had been allowed to shower and change by the women who had found her and her companions atop this mesa. The women –ghostly women, who wore all white and were identical in face and form- called themselves Handmaidens and had instructed he that she would go before their Mistress. This 'Mistress' disturbed Falen more than her maidens, even when they had watched her wash and dress. She wondered what woman could control a score of identical women, and what woman would have a replica of the Jedi Council Chambers secreted away in this cold corner of a dead planet?
Snows created no chill in comparison to the sight before her. The semi-circle of high-backed chairs were exactly as she remembered them, all they lacked were the Masters to fill them. The centre stone stood proud and regal as it always had, inscribed with the Jedi Code in a wide, flowing script. She gently reached out a finger and traced the words, engraved in the stone as they were engraved in her mind. She had lived by these words once; they had been her belief and succour, even now, after such a time without them they still stirred emotions in her belly.
Though these emotions were so different to what they had once been.
Were once they stirred pride now they birthed revulsion.
Falen had become disillusioned with the Code during the Wars. Both she and Revan had come to the realisation that the Code did not serve to keep them from the Dark path, it only served to keep them pliable to the will of the Jedi Masters. The Masters seemed to believe that students could not handle their emotions, so instead of learning how they were dissuaded from them completely. Kept bound by the Code and its words. Now this seemed far fetched and childish, but back then, drunken with the joy of their new-found freedom it had seemed right and logical. Even so, Falen would never have traded those times she spent with Revan, not the feeling of accomplishment in knowing she was actively saving the galaxy. Finally fulfilling the vision she had of a Jedi, a guardian of the light and the innocent, not some naïve historian locked away in the archives.
"I did not expect to see you again after the day of your sentencing. I thought you had taken the exiles path, wandering the galaxy. Yet you have returned – why?"
Speaking of naïve historians…
Atris, once Mistress of the Jedi Archives stood before her, previously unnoticed. Falen could see that irritated the woman. Atris watched her with cold blue eyes, disdainful and uncaring. One might have thought Atris pretty, but the lines of ill-humour and the scowl that twisted her rosebud lips destroyed the image. The white robes she wore only amplified this cold remote disposition. One Falen had gotten used to in her memory. Once Atris had been like a mother to her, secretly spoiling her and Revan in the hours they spent in study in her archives. But that had faded with the coming of the Mandalorians.
Falen schooled her voice to be as cold as Atris' very demeanour. "If you think I am here to see you, Atris, then you are sadly mistaken."
"Whore," the flat manner in which Atris delivered the insult increased its sting. "You should treat a Jedi with more respect. Or has your time in exile addled your brains."
Falen stared at the older woman in disbelief. How dare she?! "A whore, Artis? You call me a whore? You are the whore here. I loved Malak, and he loved me. You are the one who sold yourself to please the Council, to answer their every beck and call!"
"Don't mouth such rubbish, Exile. You are the one who ran away with Revan and Malak to sate you lusts. You whored yourself to the Darkside."
"I did no such thing. I fought for the innocents of the galaxy. The ones the council abandoned to cower within their enclaves!" Anger seethed within her. Anger at this woman before her –the things she called her- and anger at the Jedi council's inaction. It gripped at her belly and tore at her gut, making those golden eyes shine with emotion.
"The Jedi Order only asked for time to examine the Mandalorian threat. They urged caution, patience. And you defied them. So when you returned, you were brought before us. You were a Jedi no longer and so you were exiled." Atris' tone was one of condescendence, sparking memories of history lessons and lectures. It made Falen's blood boil.
"I also recall you wishing me imprisoned… or worse." That betrayal was one she had not addressed since the day of her trial. Atris –her mother figure- demanding she be executed.
"There was much about that day that was difficult to forget – your words, your defiance- and when you stabbed your lightsabre into the centre stone. I have kept it – so that I would never forget." Atris pulled Falen's lightsabre from the deep recesses of her robes, flourishing the yellow blade for effect. Falen could see her name engraved on the hilt, as well as the small tracery Malak had put there as a gift on the day of her knighting.
With a detachment that shocked herself Falen spoke, eyes only for her old sabre. "I did not realise you still had it after so many years."
"I have always kept it, as a reminder of what can happen when your passions dictate your actions. I have kept it, so I would never forget your arrogance and your insult to the Order." Atris' eyes blazed with the depth of her convictions, daring Falen to gainsay her.
"Insult to the Order? Pah! You insult me by carrying it." Falen bared her teeth in a silent snarl, trying to put as much contempt into her tone as she could. This woman was speaking to her of insults? Atris should feel the sting of a deep betrayal such as hers and then talk of insults. Then I might take her seriously.
Atris gritted her teeth at the younger woman's performance, remembering how stubborn the Exile could be. "Then you misunderstand its meaning while it is in my possession – and what it now represents." Trying to level her tone into sympathy she failed dismally. The expression of emotion was not one of Atris' strong points. "But I am not unsympathetic to your feelings. Leaving the Order must have been difficult for you. Yet you gave the council no other choice. You gave me no other choice." Now she was pleading with the Exile to understand her actions, and angry at her own pleading.
"I went to war to protect others, not for battle." Falen said quietly, her eyes glazed with memories and budding tears.
"You went to war for Revan and your lover, not for the innocent. You met the aggression of the Mandalorians with more aggression. That is not the Jedi way!" Atris suppressed a shiver as those golden eyes blazed to life in anger. Such eyes were unnatural and a sure sign of Falen's fall to the Darkside. They had to be!
"And the council's way was to meet aggression with surrender? I'll take my choice any day."
"Every choice we make, whether we know it or not, sends echoes through the force. It can awaken feelings; ignite passions, hate, anger, fear – where none existed before. By meeting aggression, by serving as an opponent against which the Mandalorians could test themselves, you fed their hate, their lust for war. And it sent a terrible echo through you. And because of it, you and those Jedi who met them on the battlefield lost their way… and you turned on us."
Falen's tears became those of frustration and she wiped them away doggedly. Would Atris never see her side? "Were you not tempted to help the innocent?"
"Of course I was. But the Jedi teachings require we examine how we may best help them – action without reflection is not our way. There was no guarantee that our marching to war would have saved the Outer Rim. In fact, quite the opposite." Atris sat down in one of the council chairs, the same chair she had occupied on the day of Falen's trial, hoping in would erode at the woman's endless reservoir of stubbornness.
Falen saw the gesture for what it was and it steeled her resolve. Atris would not best her in this argument! It would be like old times, when she and Revan would pit their minds and wills against that of the Mistress of the Archives debating histories or politics, though this time Revan was not here with her persuasive ways. "No, " she acquiesced, knowing Atris would jump at what she thought was a sign of weakness in Falen's argument. "There was no guarantee we would win. But if we had not acted, the Mandalorians would now rule the Republic."
"A physical victory perhaps, but the real victory lay in t-" As predicted Atris jumped at the chance to preach.
"… the triumph of pacifism? Surrender?" Falen interjected.
Atris scowled at her. "Do not twist my words!" she reprimanded. "A physical victory is not the only victory… or the only loss."
"Nice words…" Falen said tartly, arms crossed tightly under her breasts and booted feet planted wide she was the very image of determination. "But if we had listened to you we would be hearing them in Mandalorian right now."
"You don't know-" Atris began to say.
"Oh please. Anyone who stepped outside the Jedi archives would know it."
Atris leapt out of her chair, affront staining her cheeks prettily. Her hands balled themselves into fists, and Falen was sure the woman was about to draw her lightsabre. "How dare you? The Mandalorian Wars should have been your grave and Malachor V is where you should have died!"
"Ahhh..." Falen smiled bitterly. "At last it comes out. Was it always this personal with you?"
"You see shadows where there are none and hate where there is none." Atris' flush of offence quickly became one of mortification. She adjusted her robes before finally looking Falen in the eye, her calm restored. "You are blind, as always. I tire of… fighting with you. You lust for war, and you always will. And you have succeeded in distracting me from my questions. So answer me. If you cannot seem to admit the council was correct, then why are you here?"
Falen sighed. She no longer had the energy to argue with Atris. "I am looking for my ship so I can leave Telos."
"Your ship – ah, the Ebon Hawk? It is not your ship, unless you are admitting to the destruction of the Peragus mining facility?"
"Look, do you have my ship or not?" Falen said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of her long nose.
"The Ebon Hawk is here, safe. Its records and navicomputer are being dissected to determine what caused the destruction of the Peragus mining facility. We are having trouble with the navicomputer… but I think with your cooperation, willing or otherwise, that will cease to be an obstacle. If it was your ship, perhaps I should be questioning you as to what happened – and why you destroyed the facility and murdered all the miners stationed there."
"Peragus' destruction was necessary." Falen said flatly. She could not bring herself to relate the whole story to Atris.
"Necessary? The destruction of Peragus was necessary?! You have not changed. Acting instead of thinking. Putting yourself before the galaxy, before the Jedi!" Atris gestured with increasing intensity, her face flushing once again with anger.
"I've had enough of this, and you."
Atris' mouth twisted into a sad smile and her eyes looked as tired as Falen felt. "It was too much to hope that you may have come here to finally admit the council was right."
"Just give me my ship, and I will depart." Falen felt strangely sad that this issue with Atris must be left unresolved, but the woman was still wrapped so tightly in her delusions of the council that Falen knew she would only be wasting her breath. Maybe she had hoped to see Atris one more time, the way she remembered her. Before the wars, before her exile, back when they were friends. Too late now, she thought bitterly.
"We shall remove her, Mistress." One Handmaiden murmured comfortingly to Atris. The white-haired Jedi nodded and waved a hand at Falen in dismissal. Hands wrapped themselves around her arms like bands of iron, but Falen refused to move with their tugs. "Beware, Atris." she called to the back of the retreating woman. "The Sith are back in the galaxy, maybe they never left. They're hunting Jedi, so be on your guard. Even here in your secret ice hole they will find you. They're using the Force against you."
Atris turned to stare at her former student, hate palpable in her ice-blue gaze. "Get you gone from this Jedi Temple, Exile. I have had enough of your war-mongering and malicious lies."
The hands tightened around her arms, and Falen was nearly lifted off her feet. Two white-clad Handmaidens mounted the stairs after their mistress and four more escorted Falen from the chamber. With a resigned sigh Falen pushed Atris from her thoughts, what was important was getting her ship and her friends back. She turned to the Handmaiden on her left. The woman completely ignored her gaze, although the stiffness of her posture told Falen how distastefully she viewed this duty.
"Can you tell me where my friends are?" Falen enquired causally, hoping to earn some kind of reaction from the stone-faced maiden.
"You will find them in the main irrigation channel room in the northern part of the plateau interior. The particle emitters there that once governed the flow of water to Telos can double as force cages." The maiden said, still refusing to look in Falen's direction.
" "So they are prisoners? Can't say I expected any less of Atris, she was always one for wonderful first impressions." Falen drawled. Oh Force, I'm turning into Atton!
"Watch your tongue, Exile." The maiden snapped. "Your friends were caged for their safety until we could determine your intent. Atris cautioned us against your tactics, fearing that your allies would create a distraction. Your companions gave us little trouble, however. The male could have presented some challenge if he had resisted, but he chose not to."
Upon reaching the entrance chamber the maidens released her arms and the bulk of her escort dissolved, only two women remaining to guard the doors through which they had just walked. To make sure the Exile didn't run back through and take a shot at their Mistress, probably. Falen was far too dumbstruck to do such a thing. She was staring at the maiden on the left, open-mouthed. "Atton? A challenge?"
The only things the man could challenge were joy girls and his own intellect.
"He has some Echani training. He masks it well, but when you were in danger, his mask dropped into a stance that we know well." The maiden stated this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Falen an idiot for not noticing.
"Where would he have gotten that kind of training?" Falen mused.
"I do not know. The Echani forms are known to be thought to military Special Forces throughout the galaxy. If the source is a mystery to you, perhaps you should ask him. It would be wise to know those you travel with."
Oh thankyou, Falen snarled in her mind, as if I don't know how to handle my own companions.
Abandoned Mesa: Irrigation channel room…
Falen stepped into the channel room quietly, expecting either sleeping companions or ones unconscious from a beating received from Atris' handmaidens. She was half right. Both Atton and Bao were out cold, asleep on the floors of their holding cells. Kreia was settled in her mediation pose on the floor of her cell, legs crossed and arms resting on her thighs. The older woman looked up curiously as Falen walked further into the room.
"Did you find what you came for?" the crone murmured as her student walked closer.
"That depends…" Falen smiled softly. "What was I supposed to find here?"
Kreia smiled at Falen's perceptiveness. "There was something from your past here – something unresolved. I feel we did not come to this place by chance – you were led here. This woman who resides here – she did something to you once… something that hangs upon you still?"
Falen shrugged dismissively. What happened between her and Atris was not something she wanted to share with Kreia. She kept what she did tell her as brief as possible. "She was one of the council who cast me out of the order… and wanted to punish me even further."
"Ahhh, I see it now. The act has left its marks. Be warned… unresolved events from our past can create wounds in the present, and the future. And more importantly, they can distract you… weaken you. It could prove fatal against the enemies we face."
Especially considering the incident on Citadel Station...
The thought hung heavy in the silence between the two women, both unwilling to give it voice and yet aware that it was on the others mind. Kreia watched Falen intently, waiting for the Exile's response and Falen felt like a padawan under her gaze, tugging on a braid and toeing the ground with her boots. Shaking off the awkwardness she stared defiantly at her master, "Let's talk about this on the way out of here."
"Very well," Kreia murmured, rising to her feet and fidgeting with her rumpled robes. "Let us depart."
"Ehhhhhhhhh…" Atton moaned, his eyelids fluttering as he began to awaken. Falen shot a look at her Master, who was watching the stirring scoundrel with something different in her demeanour. Falen couldn't help but wonder what had happened between them while she had been accosted by Atris and her Handmaidens. "What happened to Atton?" Falen motioned at the prone man, "It looks like you've mopped the floor with him."
Kreia's mouth twitched into an amused smile. Something about it had Falen's skip in bumps. "He is only sleeping – it seems the journey here has fatigued him."
"Well I better set you free then…" Falen said, turning to the cage control panel. I better set them free before Atton rolls into the electrical field. With the flick of a few switches the electrical fields shimmered and disappeared. Kreia stepped out of the confines of the cage and stretched her tired muscles. Falen rushed to Bao- Dur, who was struggling to his feet.
"I … am sorry, General. I must have lost consciousness in the crash." The Zabrak murmured, soft green eyes apologetic.
Falen wanted to melt into a puddle and laugh with relief. He felt guilty? "There's nothing to be sorry for, Bao." she reprimanded gently, a smile easing Bao's fears. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, General. Even power has been restored to my arm." The blue band of energy that connected arm to prosthetic hand buzzed to life. Falen looked at him sceptically. His face was ashen with dark smudges under his eyes and a nasty bump was rising on his forehead. Falen kept a supportive arm around his waist, keeping him upright and steady. She examined the bump with delicate fingers, soothing it away with the Force
"You've probably got only a mild concussion. Are you sure you're well enough to travel?"
Bao grinned at her. This was the General he remembered, so concerned with everyone's health before her own. "I am fine, General." He assured her, with a soft comforting smile. Glad the man was okay Falen pushed away her troubling thoughts of Atris, they could wait till she was alone. Bao noticed the sadness flit across her face and looked ready to ask after it, but Falen stopped him with a look. He nodded as a sign of understanding and bent to pick up the groups packs which had been dumped near his cell.
Falen walked over to where Atton sat, head between his knees. At her approach he looked up and grinned at her lopsidedly, groaning as he did so. "Ehhh… hey. You're back with us. We were just on our way to rescue you from those ghost women, when… uh, we got locked up."
She laughed at the look on his face. She reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Are you okay? You look a little disorientated."
"Nah… don't worry about me, I'm fine." He said with a shrug, rising steadily to his feet. Falen caught his face in her hands and examined his eyes for abnormalities. The brown orbs smiled down at her despite the stiffness in Atton's posture. "Uh… how did things go with the Jedi here? Are you all done?"
"Yes, and they are done with us. They want us out, now." Falen said briskly, turning to accept the packs Bao offered for her to carry.
"Things went that well, huh? You make friends wherever you go, don't you?" Atton teased.
Falen grinned. "Until the galaxy runs out of people, yes."
Bao and Atton both chuckled as they sorted out the number of packs they would each carry. "Well that's encouraging." Atton said dryly. "Nothing like a steady stream of people who hate us or want to kill us to keep the heart pumping."
Falen paled considerably. She hadn't considered that. "You've done enough, Atton. You can go if you want."
Atton considered her for a moment, then for the briefest of seconds his eyes flickered to Kreia. He smiled uneasily at Falen. "Nah. I was just complaining. Heh. I'm with you until things start getting better for you. We need to stick together, you know? And who knows… I might be able to pull you out of a tight spot at some point."
She nodded; pleased to keep the scoundrel, even if Kreia thought he was a liability. Falen enjoyed his company. "You surprise me. I thought you'd want to jump ship as soon as you could."
"Ah, hey." Atton chuckled and patted her patronisingly on the head. "Don't mention it. It's my pleasure."
Abandoned Mesa: Hangar…
Atton smiled up at the Ebon Hawk pleasantly surprised by the sense of homecoming. The ship was a pile of junk true, but with a little work, a paint job, new engines and some elbow grease it could easily be the best ship in the galaxy. Beside him Falen knelt down by that damned T3 droid. She was comforting the thing! Comforting! It was a droid! A bucket of scrap, it didn't have feelings!
He could feel Falen watching him; she'd been doing it since they'd left the channel room. It was starting to irritate him. Did she think him so weak that he couldn't handle himself after a little headache? "What?" he snapped when he caught her looking at him. "Look I'm fine, okay? I was just a little dizzy when I first woke up."
"I would have thought your Echani training would allow you to recover faster." she said dryly.
Kreia's head snapped up so fast her hood fell back to reveal one milky eye. "Echani training?" she echoed incredulously.
Atton's heart had stopped in his chest and he felt like he was chocking on his tongue. She couldn't possibly know?! Kreia can't have told her! "Huh?" he said, desperately trying to sound casual. "What are you talking about?"
"When we met those Handmaidens at the entrance, you dropped into an Echani combat stance. Where did you learn that?" she stood up from the droid. Both Kreia and Falen were watching him intently. He felt like some cornered animal.
"Oh, that." His hand snaked up to rub at the back of his neck like it always did when he was nervous. "Don't tell anyone, but you wouldn't believe how many fights you can prevent by just pretending to know that stuff. I mean, it doesn't compare to wearing a lightsabre, but then again, that doesn't help you much."
Falen flinched at the barb, "Don't change the subject."
Atton's heart was beating again and anger was thumping through his veins. She had no right to question him like this? He had no reason to explain anything to her. "Yeah? So what?" He rounded on Falen, poking a finger in her direction. "I don't ask any dumb questions about your past, despite the fact that it keeps throwing us into life-threatening situations. Want to know why? I figure if you ever want to tell me something, you will. So give me the same respect, all right?"
Her eyes hardened and she poked a finger in his chest. "I'm not accusing you; I just wanted to know if you had any useful skills! You could be a real asset with combat training."
Atton turned and walked up the ramp, T3 pushing past him with an apologetic 'dwoo'. Atton was in no mood to notice. He was not some woman's 'asset'! Before he reached the top a noise snapped him out of his glowering and caused him to turn around. It wasn't Falen, she was also looking in the direction of the noise. A Handmaiden, the one that looked slightly different from her sisters was walking towards them. There was something in her face that was different, something that pushed her past pretty to beautiful. The white clad woman walked up to Falen and extended a gloved hand. Falen clasped the proffered hand.
"While you washed I saw a great many scars across your body, Exile." The maiden's eyes flickered to Falen's stomach, then back to her face, respect in their blue depths. "You are a warrior of great prowess, and I wish we could have met under better circumstances."
"So do I..." Falen murmured. She shook the maiden's hand and turned to walk away when the woman's hand caught her arm. "Please, Exile, before you go, tell me what its like to feel the Force."
Falen exchanged a look with Kreia and then smiled softly at the maiden. But to Atton something about that smile seemed pained. Kreia spoke first. "It is like the sun over your shoulder, with all the warmth and none of the glare." The maiden nodded, enthralled, and looked to Falen. She took a deep breath before speaking. "It is like the heartbeat of the galaxy reverberating through your body, connecting you with all life. It is pure life, flowing through your veins. There really are no words to describe it…"
The Handmaiden was wide-eyed with wonder. "I thank you for this small gift, Exile. I would that we meet again one day." The woman bowed to Falen and was gone. Both women watched her leave before pushing past him to enter the ship.
"You need sleep, Exile." Kreia instructed, leading Falen towards the portside dormitories. Suprisingly Falen didn't protest. Atton watched them go with a shrug. He was used to being ignored on the odd occasion, it may be a blessing, he was sure he would have snapped at Falen if she'd tried to talk to him. Better off if she slept and let his temper cool down, he didn't really want to hurt her, escpeically after what hurt the Jedi had just delt her. Whatever that Jedi woman had said had hurt her pretty bad; he could see it, even though she had tried to hide it. And the Handmaiden's muttering 'whore' as Falen walked past hadn't helped much, he was sure she would have pummelled them if she thought she could have come out alive.
Women! They were easier to understand when drunk. Come to think of it he needed some liquor. But he had better get the ship of the ground before the witch came and skinned him alive. Uhhh, he hated having to obey. Muttering and cursing to himself the scoundrel stalked off to the cockpit.
A/N: OMG I'm so glad this is done! Its was such a drag to write, being so dialogue (and Atris) intensive. 'Snow White Queen' is a song from Evanescence's latest album The Open Door. I brought it a few weeks ago and haven't stopped listening to it since. I LOVE IT! It rox my sox, lol. I am now a graduate of St Luke's Collage, Class of 06! Woot! It is such a good feeling to have school finally behind me foreva! Anywho… I hope you enjoyed these chapters, another two will be up as soon as I can manage, (which hopefully will be faster than usual) ;)
