Atton Rand shielded his eyes with one black, gloved hand and eyed the sky casually. After a moment, he nodded slightly and turned back to the Exile.
"Ok," he said, "It's bright enough. Take a seat."
Miriya Vohn complied immediately, dropping into one of the four wrought iron chairs that surrounded the glass table on his balcony. It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and clear. She relaxed momentarily as the warmth seeped into her shoulders.
The Pilot swooped low and reached with both hands, grabbing the small, purple vial with his right and gripping the nearest chair with his left. With one twist of his wrist, the chair spun around until the back touched the edge of the table. The Exile smiled. Atton's ambidexterity was something she doubted he even noticed, but to her it was his signature quirk. It was the mark of a good pilot, doing as many opposing things as possible and all at once. His movements were always fluid and it had been no surprise to her at all that he gravitated towards carrying two lightsabers. Standing, he straddled the chair and sat, carefully removing the tiny stopper. His movements were minute and precise and in a moment he'd poured a single violet drop on the glass surface, pushing it to a wide lavender smear with his right thumb.
"The thing about A'dan," he began, "Is that the only way to detect it is by using more. Give me a strand of your hair."
Puzzled, the young master reached up, carefully pulling the bindings from her hair. A stray knotted itself between her fingers which she deftly straightened and handed forward to Atton.
Grasping the fine, chestnut hair, he lowered it onto the A'dan and leaned back, letting the sun hit it. The Exile watched closely, expecting the hair to dissolve on contact. However, after several moments, nothing had changed.
"I don't understand…what am I supposed to be seeing here?" she asked.
"Right now, nothing," he replied, "You haven't been exposed to A'dan, but I have. Now watch this…"
Pouring another drop, he once again smeared it using the same hand and plucked a single black hair from his head. Placing it carefully in the substance, he leaned back once more, allowing the sun to strike it.
Miriya Vohn's eyes widened. The moment the brash pilot's hair hit the poison, it changed from deep black to violet.
"How…?" she began.
"I don't know," he replied, "But that's how it works and that's the only way to tell if it's in someone's system."
"But…it's such a simple test! How could a competent medical staff miss this?" she cried angrily.
"Competence has nothing to do with it sister," he replied testily, "And YOU haven't been listening to me. This poison is RARE and not just your normal kind of rare. It only grows in one place in the entire 'verse and that's on Ordo. For the record, almost nothing grows on Ordo. The only plants there are right on the equator. The Mandies wipe it out every chance they get and they don't exactly go around telling people about it. They think poison is for cowards. To suggest it or mention it to anyone is a clear sign of weakness and you know how much they love weakness. Your average doc isn't going to know anything about this stuff and sure as hell wouldn't have access to a sample of it. As a matter of fact, I don't know anyone who knows about it except me…"
"I thought you said you tracked some down?" she asked, "I assumed that meant there was a black market for it?"
"Nah," he said, scratching the back of his head with his clean, left gloved hand, "What I meant was that I had to track it down by memory. Back when I did this for a living I had caches of poison hidden on most major planets. You never know when you'll get backed into a corner or have your stuff confiscated so it's always good to have a backup nearby. The only stroke of luck we've had so far is that Mical is in such a big place. The problem was my memory. We tucked away so much of that part of my life over so much time that it was really hard for me to remember where it was. I had to start hitting the old haunts, to see if it would bring anything back to me."
"That was a gamble that paid off," Miriya said, "It's been over ten years. It's amazing that your supply hadn't been discovered or destroyed."
Atton grinned slightly, the right side of his mouth curving upwards while his eyes flashed with amusement. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of black cloth and began to meticulously wipe the pools of A'dan. "That was no gamble sweetheart," he replied, "When I hide something it stays hidden and in one piece until I decide to bring it out. You should know that."
Something in his look made the colour rush to her cheeks, but he did have a point. The Exile had never met another person so completely adept at concealment. Over the years he'd managed to completely hide his thoughts and intentions from even the most powerful Jedi masters. He'd also mastered stealth before he ever took his first steps as a Padawan. It was entirely possible that his caches were the best protected in the universe.
"I know," she said quietly, "It took me a long time to trust you."
The pilot paused, eying her sharply, "You know that's the second time I've heard you say that…"
"You know what I mean," she continued, "I'm not talking about the Hawk or the crew or training or the students…I mean with me. I remember when you first taught me to play pazzak in my head. You told me that when I wanted to hide, to go to that place in my mind and you'd be waiting there. I've never forgotten how safe that made me feel, but then I noticed you using the same technique on me. It really knocked me off balance and I never knew if you were really being genuine with me. It made me nervous, like I couldn't really talk to you or let you get too close."
"In the beginning I don't think I was being genuine," he said coolly. Something in his expression flickered. He stood, dropping the black rag onto the table and removed his right glove. Carefully turning it inside out, he released it and let it fall. Turning, he walked to the balcony railing, gripping it slightly with his back to her. "I had no idea how."
The Exile frowned and stood, maneuvering out from behind the table and towards the pilot. Standing just behind his shoulder, she placed her hand on his back. "You've really changed, you know? Old you would've cracked a joke just to get out of answering me."
"Old me was scared of his own shadow," he said, "I did everything I could to avoid being tied to anyone. It was survival. I couldn't let someone like you know what I really was…all those things I'd done…and having that old witch hissing 'murderer' in my ear didn't help either."
"I know," she said, running her fingertips across his shoulder blades.
Atton turned slowly to face her and her hand slid away, falling to her side. He folded his arms, gripping his elbows tightly and eyed her intently. "But you know everything. You've known for years and I keep waiting for you to start hating me. I keep thinking that some day you'll come to me and ask me to leave, but you don't…it almost makes me wonder what's wrong with you."
"Absolutely nothing and I'll never hate you," she said simply, "Perhaps I might if you'd lied or denied your responsibility or felt no remorse but you're the opposite of that. You've punished yourself savagely and you've refused to accept that the dark side had a stranglehold on you when it DID. It's not like I don't understand the call and it's not like I've never seen what happens to people who succumb to it. I've always been in awe of your ability to walk away from it by yourself, to be totally honest. I've never heard of anyone walking away on their own."
The pilot relaxed slightly, releasing the grip on his elbows, "Walking away was no picnic. You know how much damage it did. I can't relax, I have to keep my guard up against it or I'll undo everything."
"We all do," she replied, "That's why we're all so much stronger together."
"Kissing you was horrible…" he began, the tension evident in his voice, "As soon as I did it, I flashed back to 15 years ago and those female Jedi. It was like I was killing you…"
Miriya moved forward quickly, raised her hands to his face and pulled his mouth to hers. She was exceedingly gentle, the kiss was very sweet and slow. When she pulled away, she eyed him curiously. "Was that horrible?" she asked softly, arching a brow.
His arms unfolded and his slid his hands around her waist, pulling her close. "No," he whispered, his eyes blazing.
"There are no coincidences Atton," she said softly, "That memory is a horrible one, but without it you wouldn't have remembered the A'dan."
"I know," he replied, kissing her forehead softly, "I'm glad we talked, but I'm going to need some time to wrap my brains around it all if that's ok?"
"You and me both," she replied.
"Now," he continued, "I hate to change the subject, but we're both really avoiding what we need to do here."
Miriya Vohn frowned, "You're right…but…what do we do if the test is positive? Can we cure him?"
Atton released her gently and took her hand, leading her back to the table. When they were seated across from each other once more, his expression became focused and serious as he pulled on his glove once more. Moving the rag aside, he reached for the bottle.
"If this does come out positive, there's no cure," he replied softly, "For Knowt's they could at least remove the affected limbs and hope for the best but A'dan goes through the bloodstream as soon as you touch it. It would be everywhere by now. If it's positive, the best that will come out of this is that we'll be able to track who's behind it. Outside of me, there's maybe a handful of potentials. I'm sorry Miriya, but if it's positive…he'll die."
The young Master took a deep breath, biting the inside of her bottom lip. Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out the carefully stored hairs and held them out to Atton. The gold strands brought a flood of images to her mind. Of the moment they met and how she'd blushed at his low bow and courtly manners. Of how hard he'd worked to revive Bao Dur as they fled from Malachor and of how utterly shattered he'd been when his best efforts failed.
She remembered finding him in storage, covered in blood and sitting on the floor with his elbows on his knees. His fingers had gripped his blonde hair so tightly that he'd pulled out some at the root. It was the only time she'd witnessed him in any other state than calm and the anguish of his failure that night had rivaled her own pain. Dropping to her knees and without saying a word, she'd moved her arms around his big shoulders, pulling him close and stroking his hair until he relaxed and pulled her into his lap. She recalled how they'd held each other tightly in the hours it took for them to get back to Telos. He'd loved her so dearly and in the years after Malachor he'd tried so hard to heal her grief. Her heart stung as she remembered how forcefully she'd pushed him away. She remembered the day he left for Telos. His pale, blue eyes had been as bright and clear as the sky. He'd stood tall and his features were a mask of calm that concealed the agony beneath the surface. His good-bye was as polite and sterile as either of them could rightly stand.
Frowning, she looked to Atton. His green eyes were cool, but his jaw clenched, his mouth a straight, serious line. Pouring one last drop and smearing it, he reached with his free hand and carefully took a single, blonde strand. Lowering it gently onto the surface, he leaned back.
Violet.