Chapter 14: Survival Stories
Atton crept to the door of the port dormitory and peered into the shadows. He was anxious to get this piece of business out of the way before Shira, Bao Dur and the Mandalorian meathead came back from stamping out the revolt in Iziz.
Kreia kneeled on the floor in her usual spot, her bowed back turned away from the entrance as a barricade to any would-be intruders. But she wasn't meditating. Her body was outlined by faint blue light emanating from the holo-vid in her hand. As she watched the images of the old Jedi Council members float before her like phantoms in the dark, her wasted frame coiled forward with almost predatory attentiveness.
"What is it, fool?" she said.
The old woman didn't bother to turn her head and glare at him with her blank, sunken eyes. "I do not enjoy being interrupted by the likes of you."
The holo-vid flicked off, plunging Kreia's hunched form back into the shadows.
"That's too bad," Atton said. "Because I'm here to talk and you're going to listen."
He stepped further into the sanctum sanctorum where Kreia spun her webs and waited to catch the flies.
He shivered. For some reason, the air in here was much colder than on the rest of the ship.
"Then speak and be done, murderer. I am already weary of your presence."
"I'm not your puppet anymore, Kreia. You can't turn me and you can't control me," he said. "I went to the tomb. I stood in the dark energy there and I didn't fall. Your threats mean nothing to me anymore."
From behind the brown hood came a dry chuckle. "A rousing triumph, indeed, to exchange one sort of foolery for another, to trade shackles you can see for those you cannot. But call yourself free. I have no further use for you."
"Not so fast, you old scow," Atton said. "I'm not done talking yet, not by a long shot. I'm going to tell Shira about all you. When I'm done, you can count yourself lucky if she doesn't boot you out the airlock."
Kreia looked over her shoulder and shot him a devious twist of a smile. Her empty, white eyes gleamed like twin moons in the surrounding darkness.
"Ah, yes, you can tell her that you only stood by her because I made you. After all, what woman doesn't love a confessed coward and a known fool? Tell her I was the one who prevented you from fleeing like the spineless deserter you are. Tell her everything, 'Atton', and we'll see whom she decides to trust."
She turned back and resolutely resumed contemplating the dormitory wall.
He stared at the back of the crone's brown hood, silently cursing her. She had all the angles worked out, he thought. She'd probably anticipated this confrontation weeks ago and prepared that little speech in advance.
"I think you're bluffing. I think you're getting scared and you're smart to be."
He paused for dramatic effect, hoping that his own bluff would work.
"When we get back to Dantooine, I want you off this ship. Go crawl back into the hole you came from. If you go easy, I'll keep my mouth shut and you can hold on to whatever scraps of dignity you have left."
"Hm, bargaining so soon?" she said. "Given your past, I thought you would be more skilled in 'negotiations'. Nevertheless, I will consider your proposal, if only because I believe that we will all be parting ways in the very near future."
Atton glowered at her. "And what makes you think that?"
"How do I know that? Let us say that I am a prophetess."
"And what in the hell is that supposed to mean?" he growled.
"You are so very impatient. It tires me," Kreia's voice sounded as though it was coming from a great distance. "You'll see the future laid out soon enough, fool. There's no need to be…precipitous. Besides, I'd be loath to ruin the surprise."
The jungle was lush and dangerously alive with the cries of birds and the hum of insects. Mandalore clambered through the undergrowth with more brashness than he'd ever displayed in Iziz, but Shira couldn't help wishing that she could identify the various rustlings and shrieks that came from the fan-like ferns and thick bushes at regular intervals.
Just this afternoon, she'd spotted a furry brown spider the size of her head scuttling over the fallen leaves. When she asked Mandalore what it was, he'd laughed contemptuously.
"Worried?" he'd said. "Don't be. It's a wortix spider. It only eats birds and the occasional cannok runt."
Shira was anxious to hear how her team of students had fared at Freedon Nadd's tomb. The Mandalorian scouts had already reported that their mission had been a success, but she knew she would feel significantly better if she could see her friends, the people who had been willing to risk their lives to help her.
It had been hard to say goodbye to Atton, Visas, and Mical in front of the Mandalorians, who were obviously embarrassed to witness even a hint of attachment, or Force forbid, affection. Standing amidst a pack of heavily armored brutes, she hadn't felt comfortable saying any of the things she wanted to say to them. In one particular case, she wasn't even sure she knew how to begin.
"Cannoks all over the place," Bao-Dur murmured. "When I was on Telos, one of them ate the better part of my tool kit. Left me nothing but a hydrospanner."
"I hope you slaughtered the damned creature," Mandalore said. "Those things are nothing but pests."
"Maybe here. But on Telos, they're important. Pretty much the only species we've managed to re-introduce so far," Bao said. He gave a quiet chuckle. "You can just be patient, you know. Whatever they put in their mouths comes out the other end eventually."
Mandalore snorted. "A Mandalorian warrior doesn't go rooting through cannok filth."
Shira smiled, trying to imagine the expression of disgust hidden under that metal helmet.
She considered the Mandalorians' notion of honour misguided and repugnant, but she was surprised to have found more sympathy for them than she would ever have thought possible. Much like the Jedi, they followed a stringent code and they imagined that their way was the right way. She only wished that they'd learn the hopeless stupidity of their obsession with war and conquest. When you see the world that way, you can never stop fighting, she thought.
She wanted to believe that one day she'd be able to stop fighting her wars.
She glimpsed the bronze plating of the Ebon Hawk through the foliage and suddenly burst into a sprint.
"Hey!" she shouted. "Hey! We're back!"
"What's she trying to do?" Mandalore grumbled. "Attract every predator within a five mile radius?"
Running down the slope as fast as her legs or the Force could carry her, she dodged under low-hanging branches and ripped through tangled vines. Even the thought of encountering another wortix couldn't stop her.
The grass under her feet was wet and slippery, but she wouldn't slow down, not for the sake of caution or to maintain the poise of a Jedi.
She needed to know that there would still be a time to speak all the words she'd left unsaid.
She burst into the clearing and almost collided into Atton.
She gasped. "You're alright!"
Her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace and she sighed. "You're alright."
Her cheek pressed against the rough material of his jacket. His body felt warm and solid, so wonderfully real. She could feel his chest rising and falling with every breath.
He grinned down at her, obviously amused at her concern. "Didn't think I'd make it, huh? I thought those Mando thugs would have told you mission succeeded."
"They did. But I needed to see it with my own eyes."
"Yeah? Do you like what you see?"
Looking up at his face, Shira noticed that the dark circles that had hung under his eyes for weeks on end had all but disappeared.
He looks like he actually slept an entire night without having one of those nightmares of his, she thought. He looks better, and strangely…sane.
After her trip into the Sith tomb, she'd been tormented for days by horrible visions flapping around her like shyrack, their papery wings brushing against the edges of her mind. When Atton went traipsing into a crypt full of dark energy, he seemed to have found the cure for insomnia.
She heard heavy boots tromping over the grass just outside the clearing.
Suddenly it occurred to Shira that Mandalore and Bao-Dur were coming and that she had put herself in what might be interpreted as a compromising position.
She bolted back from Atton and assumed a pose of innocence that even she knew was patently unconvincing.
"Hey, the gang is back together again," Atton said, greeting the tech and the Mandalorian.
His eyes returned to her, glinting with meaning. "I must hear all about your vacation on Onderon."
"First, why don't you tell me about your mission here on Dxun?" she said.
With a slight bend of her head, she motioned for him to follow her away from the ship – and anybody who might want to listen in. She was especially suspicious of a certain nosey redhead who liked to practice her 'surveillance' skills on unsuspecting crew members. Mira wasn't in plain view, but that didn't mean she wasn't around.
"Did something happen?" Shira whispered. "You seem a little calmer than normal."
In place of his usual wolfish grin, Atton's smile was almost shy.
"Yeah – I guess I just had to prove something to myself, and I never had a chance to put it to the test 'til then."
The more he spoke, the more obvious the change seemed to her. It wasn't just a change in his face, but an alteration in his body and the tone of his voice.
He stands taller now, she thought. He seems less ashamed, less burdened by a past that he can't change and a future that we can't predict.
She wasn't anticipating a straight answer, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to ask the question: "What did you learn?"
"Nothing I didn't already know," he said.
His smile faded. "Anyway, it's over now…at least until the next disaster hits us."
She didn't want to know what the next disaster was. She hoped that it would never come.