Pain.
It was a fire, consuming him until nothing was left. It blinded him, this pain that tore at him like a thousand vibroblades, slicing into his skin, his heart, his mind, until nothing was left but this darkness that consumed him, this perversion of the Force that claimed his body and soul.
But even through the pain, she was there. Her voice was a blend of smoke and charcoal and heat that seared through his head, constantly whispering within the darkest shadows of his mind.
His master haunted him, mocked him, reproached him.
Always she was there, and she would remain there, always, until his decrepit body lost the will to live.
If he could call his existence living.
He had come for the Jedi, to finally rid the galaxy of the pathetic fools who ridiculed his way of life and threatened to choke the flow of the Force.
He had come for the Jedi and had found his master.
He had found her. He could feel her disgust; she exuded it from every fiber in her body. She was superior to him as a master was to their student. It was an arrogance he could not tolerate.
She spoke, but he paid no attention to the words she spewed forth. He could only concentrate on her presence, on the fact that she was near.
The love and hate he felt for her became one impossible feeling, twisted and maddening. She was the first to have taken him under her wing, the first to show him the Force. She was first to show him true power, and she was the first to betray him.
He wanted to break her like she had broken him.
He had envisioned this meeting for years, anticipating the day he would meet her after her exile. He had imagined what he would say to her, what he would tell her. He dreamed of how he would hurt her.
But his dreams fled with the sound of her voice. He had stripped her of power, yet still she wielded power over him. He withdrew his lightsaber and it sprang to life with the familiar snap-hiss. Its red glow cleared his thoughts, reminded him of the power he could hold in his hands. He heard his voice, as rough and cracked as his body, ring out through the empty ship, but he couldn't hear his words. He wanted to break her, to wipe the smug, knowing look off of her face. He wanted to break her slowly, painfully, until she was groveling at his feet. Until he was the master and she the student.
He would break her.
-
Pain.
It was roaring fire, engulfing her hand and lancing up into her arm. It blinded her, forcing her to her knees and wrenching a raw scream from her throat. It cut at the fringe of her sanity: she slipped into shadow.
And through the pain, she could hear his voice. It had reached a frenzied pitch, wildly coaxing her to move, to hang on. His voice sliced through the pain like a blade and pierced the darkness in her mind. Mærin's eyes flew open, staring straight into Atton's worried hazel eyes.
"What the hell was that?" His voice was rough, "Are you okay?" Mærin stood, grasping onto Atton's outstretched hand.
"I…I'm fine. We should keep moving." She was ashamed to find that she was shaking.
He eyed her suspiciously. "Alright then. If you're sure…"
She nodded. "I'm sure."
-
Atton's mind raced as he ran up metal ramps, skirting droids with ease. All he could think about was the woman he held protectively to his side. It bothered him that in a time of crisis, all he could think about was a pretty face. He was certain that his own face wouldn't remain pretty if he stuck around her. In the first few hours of knowing Mærin, she had given him more scares than any other woman he had met. He had a feeling that trouble followed her like a kath hound follows its master. If Atton valued his skin, it would be better not to stick around.
He glared at the utility droid gliding in front of them. She, of course, had fallen in love with the piece of slab immediately and now they were stuck with it in all of its bleeping metal glory. How anyone could trust a droid…
M1rin stumbled, jolting Atton out of his train of thought. He picked up speed, cursing how swiftly the mining droids moved. The T3 unit beeped something incomprehensible. If Atton didn't know better, he would have thought that the droid was beeping in elation.
The droid stopped in its tracks and caught Atton by surprise. Swearing viciously, Atton tripped over the droid and was left sprawling on the floor. He leapt up; expecting the mining droids' advance, but metal doors had already shut his attackers out. Atton looked out the observation window, grinning at the slick freighter before him.
Pure Pazaak.
His sense of excitement died when he tried to open the hanger bay door.
It was locked. Atton ran his hands through his hair in frustration and suddenly remembered Mærin. She had helped herself up, leaning against a wall while talking to the useless droid. "The door-It's locked. The Hawk's right there and we can't get it— what is that damn droid doing now?" Atton glared at T3-M4 as it buzzed around a computer panel.
"He says he can unlock it."
Atton raised an eyebrow. "How do you know what its saying?"
She averted her gaze to the humming droid. "During the war… I worked with a lot of droids." The hanger bay doors snapped open with a hiss and T3 rolled quickly through them. Atton's arm snaked around Mærin's waist, supporting her as they ran.
The Ebon Hawk was waiting.