Chapter 6 - Confession

They left Nar Shaddaa, and once they reached hyperspace, Atton, having put T3 in charge of piloting, decided he could safely wander away from the cockpit for a quick stroll.

"Yes, I'm putting you in charge, but it still doesn't mean that I like you."

"Dwoooo…"

The course had been set for Dantooine, where Jena was to finally meet with the remaining members of the Order as a group. What was going to happen after that was anybody's guess. He only hoped they weren't going to pick up any new life forms to travel with… or worse, droids. Atton shuddered. The new floating ball of metal that claimed to be Goto's droid, and which had come back with Jena's rescue party, made him anything but comfortable… and the HK model droid Jena had finally finished fixing up… well, that one was just plain weird. It would say things like "Query: How would you like me to annihilate these superfluous meatbags, Master?" How was he supposed to relax with that thing on board? Atton was not about to forget that it was a model very similar to this one that had been attempting to capture and seriously maim, if not kill, Jena – and him, in the process – ever since they tried to escape Peragus. Quite frankly, the ship was getting pretty crowded; and since he rarely saw eye to eye with most of the crew, the more crowded it got, the more difficult his life became.

As he made his way to the main hold, he thought he heard female voices ahead. He unconsciously gradually slowed his pace down, until he had completely stopped. What were they talking about?

"I don't know… you just seem to have this sort of… glow about you," he heard Mira comment.

"Glow?" enquired Jena, perplexed. She then chuckled a bit. "Well, I guess it's the Force. See, sometimes when an individual is particularly in touch with the Force, other people can see it… and yes, it can come off as a bit of a 'glow', I suppose."

"Oh. Oh I see. Yeah, see, here I was just thinking there was something going on between you and Atton," replied Mira bluntly. Her comment caught Atton so off-guard that he choked on his own spittle. He stifled a cough and started turning purple. He had to hear what was said next if it killed him; they could not know he was there.

"Between me and… Atton?" gasped Jena. Was there a touch of defensiveness in her voice? "I'm not… sure… I know what you mean…"

"Well, you know, I just thought you and Atton had a thing going."

"A 'thing'?"

Mira was getting impatient. "Wow, to they ever let you people out at those Jedi training schools of yours? I meant I thought you and Atton were together… you know… physically!"

Jena sounded mortified. "I… well, yes, I kind of figured that's what you were getting at…" She collected herself. "But no… no, Atton and I don't have a 'thing' going on…" As an afterthought, she muttered somewhat rebelliously, "At least none that I'm aware of." Atton's face grew grim – but she was right, and he knew it. Nothing was going on… not anymore at least, assuming their lone kiss could even qualify as "something going on"… He stared morosely at his feet, his thoughts still occasionally interrupted by the odd urge to cough.

"At any rate," continued Jena, "we certainly haven't been together physically." Well, that's most definitely true, Atton conceded regretfully.

"Oh, well, that's good to know," replied Mira.

Good to know?

"Good to know?" asked Jena suspiciously, as though she had heard Atton's thoughts. "Why is that good to know?"

"Well, you know… when you start mixing business with pleasure… it can only lead to bad things…" Mira paused. "You know?" she insisted.

"Oh, I see…" said Jena. Was there a tone of relief in her voice? Atton could almost swear there was. "I thought maybe it was because you might be interested in him."

"Me? Atton? EW! I mean, no offense if you're…" She checked herself. "But… but you're not…" She laughed. "You know what, I'm just gonna shut up right now."

Jena laughed as well. Her tone grew more confidential and almost… girlish. Atton noticed the change and raised an interested eyebrow. This was definitely quite a change from the Jena he was used to.

"Do you know anything about men, Mira?" she asked.

"Sure! Men are easy… that's why I dress like this. When he looks down to check you out, you jab him with a Bothan Stunner, then while he's screaming in agony, slap a pair of stun cuffs…"

Her voice was getting fainter. Atton was glad they had started walking away, because he felt sure that whatever the end of that conversation would be, he didn't want to hear it. If that's what girl talk was supposed to sound like, he was relieved that he had never been subjected to it before. This is one scary woman. He shook his head in disbelief. He didn't know which he found more disturbing: that he had to fall asleep on the same ship as Mira at some point and thus let his guards down, or that the woman he was hoping to win over was currently taking relationship advice from her. He shuddered.

"Atton?"

Atton had been fast asleep in his chair, but skittishly jumped up and turned around, fists up and ready to fight. He then sighed in relief and lowered his arms. "Oh. It's you."

"Well, who were you expecting?" laughed Jena.

"I just thought… that redhead… she's nuts."

Jena laughed again. "Who, Mira? Yeah, she's… interesting. She has a rather… original way of seeing things."

"Yeah, I'll bet," grumbled Atton, rolling his eyes. His gaze then made its way over to her, and he looked at her curiously. He picked up a strange vibe emanating from her. He grew uneasy. He decided that his best bet was to pretend that nothing was wrong. "So," he added cheerfully with a pretend smile, heading toward the galaxy map. "What can I do for you? Course has been set for Dantooine, as you know." He fingered the planet on the map. "And unless we make any more pit stops along the way, we should be arriving in…"

"Atton…" soberly interrupted Jena.

"Yeah, what?" He turned around and faced Jena. His eyes met hers, and his false smile faded slowly.

"You know why I'm here," she insisted.

"I do?" he asked, trying to sound unconcerned but failing rather badly.

She crossed her arms and looked at him meaningfully.

"Okay, okay, so I do," he reluctantly admitted. He took a deep breath. "You have some questions, I probably have answers, so let's get this interrogation over with." So you can leave me behind on Dantooine. Though I'd have much preferred being left behind on Nar Shaddaa, if I had a choice…

"This isn't an interrogation, Atton," she said loftily.

He shrugged. "Hey, I call them as I see them. So… What did you want to know?" Oh, please, please let the ship crash into an asteroid right now, so I don't have to go through this…Or maybe one of those droids could suddenly blow up… He became slightly hopeful.

She hesitated; she shut her eyes and, as one who was determined to get the worse over with, said – "I met someone on Nar Shaddaa who says he knows you."

She had spoken the words he had been dreading. Something churned in his chest, and he felt as though his world was starting to crumble down around him.

"Oh yeah?" he enquired airily, attempting to conceal his anguish, although he knew he could not fool her. "Did he tell you I owed him any credits?"

"Atton, is there something you want to tell me?" she bluntly asked, disregarding his comment.

That look – the accusation in her eyes… He had wanted her to know, but not like this. Definitely not like this. He had imagined he'd be the one approaching her when he felt sure of what he'd tell her… not the other way around. He hesitated. That scrutinizing gaze… Atton felt compelled to glance away and resentment swelled within him. How dare she? His defenses went up rapidly despite himself; he couldn't help but snap at her.

"Nooooo…" he snarled. "If there was something I wanted to tell you, I would tell you. Just like I figure if there's something you want to tell me about your past, you'll just tell me."

His abrupt change in demeanor dismayed her. Her voice quivered. "Atton…" she began; but her pleading eyes only helped harden his heart even farther.

"Never mind," he dismissed curtly. "Like I said, let's just get this interrogation over with. So… exactly what did your guy tell you?"

She hesitated. "He said you were a… a…"

"A murderer? An assassin? A Sith? A Republic deserter?" he offered brusquely. "Yeah, I guess I was all of the above."

"Actually, he only said you were a killer…" she replied, trying to compose herself and doing her best not to let his harsh tone get to her.

"A killer. Ha. Now there's an understatement." He laughed bitterly.

"Who did you kill?"

A strange look came over his face. "Why, Jedi, of course. Didn't you know? Didn't he tell you? I was really good at it, too. I was part of one of Revan's assassination squads during the Jedi Civil War. My job was to go out and capture enemy Jedi."

Jena looked like she swallowed something before she spoke. "Capture… but not kill."

"Well, of course Revan preferred to capture them… capture them to make them fall. Get them to buy into our cause. That was my favorite part. Making them fall. But of course, that didn't always work… and when that didn't work, they had to be killed, of course."

"But… Jedi… how could you kill Jedi?" Was she mocking him?

"I taught myself techniques… I'd throw strong walls of emotions at them, which would confuse them. Jedi – well, most of them can't really see past surface emotions. They never knew what I was really thinking till it was too late. And then I'd hurt them – badly… to make them fall… And when that didn't work, well then I'd just kill them. Like I said, I was really good at it. Fact is, sometimes even the Jedi on our side didn't realize I was there. Guess I was a natural. The perfect tool for the Sith." He laughed again – such a cruel, sardonic laugh.

"Is that… is that why you act the way you do? Hide your thoughts?"

Atton shrugged. "Part of it. I don't know. Maybe it was always me. It's hard to tell, sometimes. I… I haven't known who I really am for years." His voice trembled a little.

"Atton…" she whispered compassionately.

But the soft almost caressing way in which she said his name only brought out his sharpness even more. "Well, don't get too attached to me," he said abruptly. "I don't like it."

His words struck her like a slap across the face. "Why not?" she whispered again, wounded.

Something in her eyes finally softened his heart a little, and he replied a little bit more kindly, "Because I'm a deserter. It's what I do. I never stick around." And I'd rather die than see you hurt because of me. "I told you earlier I was a Republic deserter… I fought alongside Revan and Malak during the Mandalorian Wars. My allegiance was to them. Because while all those other Jedi on the Council just sat and debated what they should do, Revan and Malak… and you… actually went out and did something about it. People were dying by the millions, and still the Council was doing nothing. You were there. You know how it was – how easy it was to hate all those Jedi who just sat there and watched. And when Revan won the war… and Jedi started fighting Jedi… well, I sided with her. And Malak. I left the Republic to fight alongside the Sith."

She frowned slightly. "Well, I still don't think that really makes you a des—"

His voice became harsh again. "Yeah, but even with the Sith, I didn't stick around either. I mean, I killed a lot of Jedi for them… and I even liked it," he admitted, wanting to get everything off his chest. If nothing else, he could never be accused of not being completely honest with her. "But one day I decided not to do it anymore… so I left."

He stopped and waited for her reaction. She closed her eyes and did not say anything for a long time. His heart stood still. Finally—

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered almost inaudibly. "You're telling a Jedi that you tortured and killed Jedi."

"Because," he replied, drastically lowering his voice, "you've killed Jedi too. Different circumstances, of course, but your body count is much higher than mine ever was. I… just wanted to set the story straight… I thought… I hoped… you might understand… somehow…" he added, his voice trailing off.

Jena appeared unsure as to whether she ought to be furious or glad that he would think so. She seemed to no longer know what to think. Now that he had stopped talking, Atton's anxiety returned. Please, please don't ask why… why… His mouth was dry. He needed a glass of water… or a stiff shot of juma juice. Please… She silently stood looking at Atton, to see if he had anything else to say; but as he was clearly waiting for her to say something, she at long last asked wearily, "Then why did you end up leaving the Sith?"

Atton's face turned ashen and he closed his eyes.