Author's notes at the bottom

Chapter 8 – Pure Pazaak

"You know, you don't have to get a lightsaber… It's a good idea, but if you really don't want to… I mean – Bao doesn't wear Jedi robes…"

Jena chuckled at Atton. He had expressed his distaste for giving up his beloved blasters. He grinned sheepishly. "Nah… you're right; it's probably best to follow the more… traditional route."

Jena laughed again, and he felt compelled to join in: after all, when had he ever been concerned with doing things the traditional way?

They had returned to the ship and Atton felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He was happy – at peace… and something else. Not only had she forgiven him for his past, but she had also begun training him in the Force. Him! He felt more alive than he ever had. He had told her he believed the reason why he had been saved was so he could help her – and that he wanted to do everything in his power to achieve that goal… including being trained in the Force. The mere fact that she had agreed and begun his training proved to him that she really meant what she had said – she had truly forgiven him. He felt elated; in fact, his very stance looked different.

He happily hopped back onto the ship and started to hunt down Bao-Dur so he could help him craft a lightsaber. While he had been hesitant about getting a lightsaber in the first place, his choice of weapon was vindicated some time later, when he walked out of the cockpit wearing Jedi robes and holding his brand new lightsaber… and met Kreia in the hall. The look of sheer disgust that she shot at him as he walked past made it all worthwhile.

After Atton's lightsaber was crafted (a double-hilted viridian saber, which he thought was quite possibly the most awesome thing he had ever seen), Jena asked him to follow her to the cargo hold; she would track down a Jedi robe for him. As they walked side by side, he noticed her glimpsing at him strangely.

"Something up?" he asked.

"Oh… nothing… I was just wondering…" She hesitated and decided to take the plunge. "What's your real name, Atton?"

He glanced at her. "What makes you think Atton's not my real name?" he asked loftily.

She stopped and stared at him, smirking. He stopped walking as well and looked at her. He was trying hard to resist a sudden urge to laugh, and it wasn't working too well.

"All right, all right," he chuckled. "You know, that silent look of yours seems to force me to tell you everything. Are you sure you're not using your Jedi tricks on me?"

"Quite sure, because if I had, you'd have already answered my question instead of trying to evade it."

"You could tell, huh? You're starting to know me a little too well… and I don't know if it's such a good thing." He smiled and after briefly checking that no one was within earshot, he said, "Jaq. My name's Jaq."

"Jaq," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue. "I like it."

"Well, maybe you do, but I prefer Atton. I've been Atton for so long that Jaq sounds weird to me now." Did you just tell her your name? What is wrong with you? "I must really trust you… this isn't exactly something I normally go around advertising. I'm… sure you can figure out why."

"Well," she teased, "I could always have tried to get it out of you the more typical Jedi way…"

He smiled smugly. "You could have tried… It wouldn't have worked, but you could've tried."

"What makes you say that? Are you doubting my abilities?" she replied, just as smugly.

He hesitated. "Well… did you ever try to read my mind?"

Jena blushed and faltered. "Oh… Well… I…"

He raised his hand. "Say no more. It was to be expected. All Jedi do it… a lot more than you'd think, too."

Her eyes dropped. "Kreia got me to do it… I'm … I'm sorry."

Atton was nonplussed. "Well, I can't say I've ever heard a Jedi apologize for that before. That's kind of a new experience. So, what did you learn from me?"

"Well, nothing. You were playing pazaak in your head."

Atton looked pleased. "Exactly. Sometimes I also count ticks in the power coupling."

"But there are no ticks in the ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­power coupling. It's been fixed."

"Yeah, I know. And that's why you should count them." He smiled mysteriously. She looked confused. "Come here!" He grabbed her sleeve and started pulling her toward the cockpit. She didn't budge and eyed him suspiciously. "Come, I want to show you something," he insisted.

Jena crossed her arms and looked at Atton with a somewhat amused look on her face. "You want to show me something. Alone, in the cockpit." She snickered.

"It's not what you're thinking – though I must admit that I do like the way you think," grinned Atton. "Now come on!"

She followed him reluctantly, and the moment they entered the cockpit, he closed the door and pulled out his pazaak cards.

"Let me show you why I play pazaak."

"What? Atton, I don't want to play pazaak! We have things to do! I have to get you your Jedi robe, and then I have to go meet with…"

"Trust me." He suddenly looked very serious. "We're not playing for credits, we're playing for something else."

She narrowed her eyes apprehensively. "All right, but this better not be using Nar Shaddaa rules," she grumbled.

"No, no… all our clothes are gonna stay on, I promise. I'll deal." He sat down on the floor and Jena had no choice but to sit across from him. They started playing. About halfway through their second hand, Atton suddenly asked, "So what are you thinking right now?"

"Um… that 18 plus 3 is 21, so I'll be over if I play this card."

"Exactly."

Jena looked at him impatiently. "Would you care to explain what this is about? I don't have time for your evasiveness."

"Patience, patience my dear… I thought you Jedi were taught how to control your emotions."

"I'm not a Jedi!" she flared.

"Well, I'm glad to see I can still get your back up," he replied, smiling impishly. Her anger immediately melted away and she laughed.

"I honestly don't know how you do it. I can keep my temper in check around anybody else. But you…" She shook her head.

"I guess I just bring it out of people. Anyway, back to the pazaak thing… What you just said when I asked you what you were thinking… that's exactly why I play pazaak in my head. Because when I don't, I just leave the door open."

She looked at him and finally understood. "You count cards to prevent people from reading your mind." As insightful as ever, my dear…

"No, I just play pazaak," he winked. "But if it so happens that people try to enter my mind, or control it, all of a sudden, it becomes a lot more difficult for them. Do you understand?"

Jena smiled. "Yes, I think so."

"Good! So if you're ever up against someone who's more powerful than you, just play pazaak and you'll be okay… All of a sudden, it won't be so easy for them to get the better of you… Because you'll be right here with me, playing pazaak, where they can't reach you."

Atton let his words hang and his eyes met Jena's for a brief moment. He was about to look away when Jena smiled sweetly at him, got up, and held out her hands to help him up. "All right, Jaq, let's go get you some clothes."

"Atton," he corrected, pulling himself up.

"Atton," she purred, holding onto his hands just a touch longer than necessary. Their eyes locked again and Atton suddenly let go of her hands, just as she turned to look away. Well, that was certainly awkward… what was that about?

In a slightly uncomfortable silence, they left the cockpit and quickly made their way to the cargo hold. The instant they walked into the room, Jena started frantically rummaging through a large footlocker, unloading most of its inventory onto the floor. Atton stood quietly a few feet behind her, when something unceremoniously dumped onto the floor caught his eye… something red and gold… and quite small.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, baffled.

Jena pulled her head out of the footlocker to see what he was referring to. She followed his gaze down to the heap of fabric on the floor. She blushed furiously. "Oh that… that's… nothing."

"Like hell, it's nothing! Is that – is that what I think it is?" He still gaped at the fabric on the floor, almost awed.

She said nothing and buried her head back into the footlocker.

"It is, isn't it? It's a dancer's outfit!" insisted Atton.

"Shut up, or I'll make you wear it," said the grumbling voice in the footlocker.

Atton laughed. "And why, pray tell, do we happen to have such an item in our possession?"

Jena sighed resignedly. She had hoped the matter would be dropped, but then she had temporarily forgotten whom she was dealing with. "Fine." She dropped everything, turned and looked straight at him. "When we were on Nar Shaddaa, we tried to go in to see Vogga the Hutt to talk to him… nobody could get in… he was looking for a new dancer, so we saw it as the only way to go in to see him."

"You mean, you wore…" began Atton, and immediately stopped. He found himself unable to utter anything else. And Mical and Bao-Dur saw…

"Yes. I wore," she snapped. "Didn't really do much good either… the second I started dancing, Vogga fell asleep."

Atton gulped. She wore this… and danced in this…and the Hutt fell asleep? What in the Force is wrong with those things? I just knew they were lacking some kind of equipment.

"Anyway," she continued, "drop the subject or I will make you wear this little number. Don't think I was kidding. I know ways to make it happen." Oh, I'm sure you do, babe. "And no card counting tricks will save you this time," she warned, smirking. Atton still couldn't shake the vision of Jena wearing the dancer's outfit from his mind. He may have seen her in her underwear once, but that brown jumpsuit of hers had nothing on this outfit, which didn't exactly leave much to the imagination.

"And now I found you some decent robes," she said, pulling some dark brown fabric from the footlocker and shoving it into his arms. "You go put that on. Trust me, they're really comfortable and a lot easier to move in than regular armor… or even that old jacket of yours," she added, tugging at his sleeve playfully and smiling coquettishly. Without another word, Atton rapidly turned and left the room with the Jedi robe in hand. He felt he wouldn't be responsible for his actions if he stayed in Jena's presence any longer, not with the mental images he was having, all of them involving Jena and the dancer's outfit. The mere touch of her hand on his arm had started giving him some rather uncomfortable side effects. He had just re-earned her trust; he didn't want to risk losing it again by trying something that even he could only describe as incredibly stupid.

I still can't believe Mical got to see her with that on. I'll bet it made him rethink his whole view of relationships as being non-carnal. He shook his head in disbelief. That's it; I'm never staying on the ship again. Ever.

He returned to the cockpit and locked the door behind him – then stopped and stared blankly at said lock for several seconds. He then banged his head against the door a few times and groaned. That's what you do when you want private time in the cockpit with a pretty girl. You lock the door, so no stupid droids walk in on you. Doors have locks, you idiot. Maybe next time you'll actually use one. He banged his head again. Not that there will likely be a next time… He felt a small pang in his heart and turned his attention to the bundle of fabric he held in his arms, in a desperate effort to think of anything else. He undressed and tried to put the robe on. What the… how do these things work? And these are supposed to be convenient? I can figure out the bottom part easy enough, but this shirt… thing…and this belt? This is so awkward! He struggled for a few minutes to try and get the robe on properly. The thought of asking Jena for help crossed his mind, and he laughed at himself. I've embarrassed myself enough in front of her. I think that would be kind of the last straw. He smiled, picturing the scene. 'Jena, would you please come in here? I need your help to get dressed!' He raised an eyebrow and smirked a little. Mind you…

Author's notes: This chapter actually originally did not include the counting card bit at all... in fact, I had even made a reference in chapter 3 to Jena counting cards in her head. However, I decided I might like to use this scene here, so I went back and edited chapter 3.

Judging from some of the feedback, I'm getting the impression that some of you thought I was ending the story last chapter. Yeah, RIGHT:) I'm enjoying writing this story way too much. There's still lots coming... feel free to let me know what you think still.