The Ebon Hawk loomed before him, his – their - last chance of freedom from the abandoned mining station. The small freighter dominated Atton's vision, blocking all else from his mind. He could finally leave Peragus behind.

Blaster shots rang out sharply through the hangar bay and a stray grenade flared in Atton's hindsight. He diverted his gaze, assessing the attackers and swore. Just what we needed.

More Sith.

Their armor gleamed in the pale fluorescent light and rattled with each long stride forward. The Ebon Hawk's boarding ramp beckoned Mærin and Atton into the ship, closing with a snap. Atton unceremoniously dumped Mærin into the pilot's seat, dashing off to the gun turret.

"Get this ship running – set a course for Telos! I'll man the guns." He picked off the Sith troopers with a grim finality. He watched as each one fell, lifeless, to the ground. The men seemed oblivious to their fallen comrades, oblivious to the erratic spray of gunfire destined to cut the other Sith down.

Memories flooded Atton's mind, screams of the dying as they were unmercifully shot down, the burn of the blaster as it skimmed past his face. The fallen soldiers' image flashed behind Atton's eyes; their Republic uniforms torn and bloody, their bodies damaged beyond repair. He stopped firing the turret, stopped everything. His mind was fixed on that moment, fixed on his past. He heard his comrades screaming endlessly, and then –

Mærin screaming.

"Atton – we've got company!" He heard blaster shots and the sharp clang of vibroblades within the ship. Springing from his seat, Atton came face to face with a steely Sith mask before it fell, a shot in the back. Mærin held Atton's gaze for a second before raising her blaster pistol again. "I can handle the ones here – go get the ones that spread out in the back rooms."

Atton nodded, stealing a vibroblade from the Sith corpse. He ran in the direction Mærin had pointed, his muscles tense. He had let the Sith on the ship, in a pointless, idiotic moment of weakness. Anger flooded his mind, anger at himself for being so senseless. The Sith fell to his blade quickly, caught in surprise at his sudden ferocity. The last three troopers were ready for him, wary of Atton's weapon and his apparent taste for battle.

They charged, blades humming. Atton dropped and rolled, skewering a Sith through the gut, fulfilling his bloodlust. Feeling a sharp pain at his side, Atton snarled and spun around. The two troopers that had bothered to get in his way were neatly leveled. He stood, surveying the carnage as his battle fury faded from his mind. It had happened so fast, this waste of life. He shook his head in self-disgust. Wincing at the cut in his side, Atton returned to the cockpit.

-

"Kreia? How—" The old woman had suddenly appeared within the Ebon Hawk. She was panting, favoring her hand. Mærin's mind echoed Atton's question, but Kreia ignored the subject.

"Move! Our enemy follows still."

The broken man's image surfaced in Mærin's head, and with it coldness crept over her. She shivered lightly, nodded her head as the ship lurched into motion.

Atton took the copilot's seat next to her, giving her an odd reassurance. Mærin forced her mind off the subject. The steady rumble of the Harbinger undocking from the Peragus station was heard as the Ebon Hawk dove into space. Mærin heard Atton swear violently as enemy turrets rained shots down on the small freighter.

"If they hit us, we're dead. If they keep missing us, we're dead. That's great odds."

Mærin sighed angrily – Atton's talent for sarcasm was gnawing at her already short nerves. "We don't have much of a choice here. Just keep flying and we'll make the jump to hyperspace as soon as we clear this damn asteroid field—" Explosions rocked the Ebon Hawk, throwing its crew off balance and sending chunks of debris into space. Giant blazes of crimson gold and indigo flashed in the corner of Mærin's eye. Mærin stared, wide-eyed, as she killed yet another planet.

The Ebon Hawk shuddered and disappeared into space.

-

Mærin leaned back tiredly in her seat as Atton turned to her.

"After being chased around by mining droids and Sith, having a chat with a guy who sleeps with vibroblades, and blowing up a whole damn planet, I'd like to please know what the hell is going on here."

Mærin ignored him and turned instead toward the old Jedi. She spoke in soft, steely tones. "Who are they? Why are they bent on killing us?"

Kreia straightened, answering in a tone as scathing as Mærin's. "They are the Sith. They wish to end your life because you are the last of the Jedi."

The blood drained from Mærin's face. "The last ?" It couldn't be true, it wasn't real. All of them? Just… dead? She turned away. "I am no longer a Jedi."

"It matters not what you think about yourself. They believe you to be a Jedi, and therefore they believe that you must die. They have hunted the Jedi and slaughtered them. You are their final mark."

Mærin shook her head. The last of the Jedi? "This… This isn't making any sense." They couldn't all be gone. What about—

"You have a war to face, Exile." Kreia's voice, almost inaudible, interrupted Mærin's train of thought. "Pitting yourself against these enemies is risky at best. It will be difficult to walk away from, and you lost much in the last war. Are you so ready to fight again?"

The faces of her dead comrades flashed in Mærin's mind as she looked out into space. "I have nothing left to lose, Kreia. I might as well try."

"You are just like all the rest of the Jedi!" Kreia spat, "You hear, but you do not listen! Are you truly willing?"

Mærin straightened her spine, but she did not turn to face the woman. "I am ready."

Kreia waved at the younger woman dismissively. "Then you will need a teacher. Prepare yourself, Exile. This war will be a difficult one." The old woman walked swiftly down the hall into shadow.

Another war. More battle. More suffering, more death.

Atton stood, offering Mærin his hand. "You might want to check out that leg of yours before anything really serious happens to it." Mærin could have laughed. Something serious already happened.

-

The small medical room on the Ebon Hawk was well lit and, to Atton's surprise, well stocked with medical supplies. It was furnished sparsely, with only a few counters, cabinets, and a cold metal table. The sight of the room brought back more memories, but Atton pushed them in the back of his mind. Where they belonged.

Mærin had seated herself on the table, cutting away the mining uniform around her leg. He stood in the doorway, watching as the Exile picked away slices of metal embedded in her skin. Each one she found left a small crimson trail down her leg, and the blood stained the tips of her fingers a dark red. She made no noise during the obviously painful procedure.

But then, Jedi were trained against pain.

"Where is it?"

She glanced up at him, her puzzlement plainly written across her face. Apparently, Jedi weren't trained against surprise. "Where is what?"

"Your lightsabre. You were a Jedi, right? We both know that it would have come in handy dozens of times on Peragus. So where is yours?"

She turned her concentration back on her leg, and the tweezers' movements picked up speed and ferocity. Was she angry? Or just uncomfortable? "Exiles are not allowed to keep their lightsabres."

Ah, so the truth is revealed. It certainly explained why Kreia insisted on calling Mærin "Exile." He quirked an eyebrow."And here I always thought that Jedi were married to their lightsabres."

Again, her dark blue eyes met his. "People can be married to people as well, but even those bonds are easily severed."

Damn, but she was clever. Still, something about her past piqued his curiosity. "What did it look like? Your lightsabre, I mean. Don't tell me it was one of those red ones…"

She laughed, and Atton silently patted himself on the back. "No, both the hilt and the crystal were unique."

"Yeah? Unique how?"

"Violet. Like Hurikain gems in the sunset."

Atton watched as her face turned reminiscent. Apparently, she was poetic as well. He nodded in appreciation. "How's your leg holding up?" He noticed that the pile of metal shards on the table beside Mærin had grown larger. She placed the tweezers down, closed her eyes. Her hands hovered around her damaged leg and she scowled in concentration. Atton could feel the energy radiating off the Exile, and his muscles tensed in response. He reminded himself that under everything, she was still a Jedi.

Her eyes opened, and smiling, she slid off the cold table, testing her leg.

She brushed past Atton. "I'm going to take a shower, if you don't mind. And," Mærin paused in next to him. "Take care of that cut of yours. Before it gets infected."

"How?" He was sure that he hadn't mentioned anything to her. She had already walked on. She would always be a Jedi.

-

Mærin let the hot water wash over her body, willing it to wash away her memories. All of the Jedi…

It was hard to believe that they were gone. If Kreia was right, then there would be no doubt…

She had convinced herself that he had died in the war, but there had always been that small, miniscule chance that he just might appear one day, alive. She never imagined him any older – nothing about him had changed in her mind. His complexion would be just as dark as she remembered, his curly black hair would be just as unruly as it always was. And his eyes… They would always be that intense green color that knotted her heart and twisted her stomach.

"Cael." She felt his name rolling off her tongue, echoing in the refresher walls.

If Kreia was right…

Tears rushed down Mærin's face as she lost Cael again.

-

that was, officially, the longest chapter that has ever been posted for 'Atrisia'.

It also marks the end of one part of this story and the beginning of another.

Peragus is done everyone, and I couldn't be happier. There really is so much you can do with a planet destined to explode. On to Telos! Where, I promise, the random Czerka/Ithorian missions will not be explained in great detail or depth.

Be prepared for another minor character's plot. Can you guess who it is? A cookie for anyone who guesses correctly!

I'd like to take the time to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review the first 12 chapters of Atrisia - I feel so very loved! For anyone who has an urgant need to read the earlier chapters - now revised with a few extra tidbits (nothing too special) - they are available now. Have fun!

bri