Ebon Hawk — Exiting the Y'Toub System

A gentle shudder passed through the cockpit as they jumped to hyperspace. While Atton busied himself with a systems check, Meetra simply folded her hands in her lap and watched the galaxy roil past. "I'm never going back to that planet again," she said after a moment.

"Hey, that's funny. Neither am I."

That made her smile briefly, but silence still reigned.

When Atton was done with the check, he leaned against his chair's armrest. "Wanna—"

"Sure."

The pilot's hand went into his pocket, but Meetra produced her pazaak deck first and dealt onto the console between them. She didn't care much for the game, especially under Republic Senate Rules, but it was too early to go to bed. There was always something to do aboard the Hawk, but after the escape from Goto's yacht, she thought she had earned some idle time. And out of the whole crew, so far Atton was the only one she felt comfortable wasting time with.

"You seem a little different," he said over his side deck. "Things go well with Zizz-Derr Ven—"

"Zez-Kai Ell," Meetra corrected him. "How do I seem different?"

He shrugged. "Hard to say. Calmer, I guess. So what happened with the Jedi?"

"He… wasn't like I expected. You remember the holorecord of my trial? How the Masters were all so…"

"Preachy?"

"More or less. Well, he wasn't. He was reflective. Gentle, even. And very sad."

Atton said nothing to that. They took their time with the game. There was really no winning or losing; that was the point of Republic Senate Rules. Meetra scanned her side deck, worrying the corner of a plus-one card with a finger. Part of her was still thinking back over her long conversation with Master Ell in the flophouse on Nar Shaddaa. It was sort of astonishing, how unpretentious he'd been, from his gloomy ruminations to the way he'd slouched on the edge of his cot.

Right before parting ways on the street outside, Meetra had taken his hand and gripped it tight, as though trying to put some of her own strength into him. Listen, she had told him, I never thought I'd say this to you or to anyone on the Council, but it's good to see you again.

"He agreed to help us," she said, coming back to herself. "He'll join with the other Jedi on Dantooine, if we can find them."

Atton acknowledged that with a grunt. Though Meetra would have appreciated some more enthusiasm from him, she let it slide. She could hardly expect him to be invested in the fate of the Jedi or the Republic when her own concern for them was born out of simple convenience. Meetra had no grand designs—only a hopelessly bad habit of wandering into the middle of things. Changing the course of galactic history hadn't interested her since the end of the war. What did still interest her, as it had turned out, was people. And as far as people went, Atton was…

She studied him as the rounds passed them by. His face kept changing between looks of calculation, confidence, and dismay which seemed to grow progressively more exaggerated and ridiculous. A performance, no doubt, and Meetra admitted to herself that it was funny in a very stupid sort of way. She hadn't yet tired of his affection or his buffoonish ways of expressing it—though she had no idea what to do with them.

At least, she thought it was affection, or something along those lines. Considering how well he got along with the rest of the crew, viewing each of them with either mutual indifference or mutual hostility, she couldn't think of any other reason why he would willingly stay aboard the Ebon Hawk at all.

"Wanted to ask you something," he said after losing three rounds in a row. "Any particular reason you talk with that old witch so much?"

Kreia had a name, but Meetra had given up correcting Atton on that – and vice versa. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but it always seems to get you in a bad mood. Remember that one guy in the Pazaak Den, the bartender? He asked me if you had flitnats crawling up your ion engine. I told him no, she was just talking with Kreia, that's all. When he asked me who's Kreia, I told him ignorance is bliss." He tipped his head back over his shoulder, toward the port dormitory. "What I don't get is why you keep going back for more… And you know, sound really carries on this crate sometimes."

"We're not always arguing," Meetra said. "Besides, there's a lot that I can learn from her."

"Ah, I get it. Mysterious Jedi stuff, right?"

"She knows more about the Jedi and the Sith than anyone I've ever met—certainly more than my own master ever did. And more powers, more techniques. We don't see eye to eye on much, but she's here to help. That's worth having to endure her lectures."

She thought Atton might chuckle at that, but he didn't. "Is it, though? I mean, don't you ever wonder?"

"Wonder what?"

"What she's up to. What stake she really has in all this. So she knows a lot of useful things, fair enough. But people who know things have something to hide. And sometimes it's not worth the trouble."

"Maybe it's not—sometimes." Meetra forgot about the game for a moment and just stared at him until he looked up from his cards. There was something wary and embarrassed in his face. No doubt he knew he had overstepped, but he wasn't aware how much he had.

With Nar Shaddaa finally behind them, one of its less violent incidents now loomed large in Meetra's thoughts: a cryptic warning from a perfect stranger in the Refugee Sector. Do not trust him. He is not a soldier. He is a killer, tried and true.

When Meetra was certain she had Atton's full attention, she said, "Kreia's one of us. She could be anywhere, doing anything she wants, but instead she's traveling with us, risking her life."

"You can see it that way if you want. Just don't say I didn't warn you if there turns out to be more you don't see eye to eye on." With that, Atton seemed ready to drop the subject, but Meetra wasn't done with him yet.

"She's already lost a hand just for me," she said. "I would do the same for her, and I'd do the same for you. And for anyone else on this ship."

After a moment, Atton flicked a card from his side deck onto the pile between them. "I know that, and so do the others," he murmured. "There's no need to brag about it… But thanks."