Chapter Two - Beginnings
She was almost gone. The will to live had almost left her. The hissing accusations around her wouldn't stop their tirade: She
had failed them; She had failed herself; She had failed the Exile. Although they were mere holocrons, they were still Sith
and they despised failure. Forged of the Dark Side for the Dark Side these holocrons were filled with a sadistic and
malevolent power. Now all that power was lashing out at Atris, intent upon her demise.
She lay now in the center of what was once the chamber were she went to meditate in her hidden academy on Telos, knees drawn
to her chest and arms around her legs, just as Jay had left her - what was it? Hours? Days? Even weeks? - ago, when she had
lost their duel after confronting him. She lay there, crying silently, preying the voices would stop. As her sight began to
go dark she was visited by a vision: The Sith Holocrons had stopped and Jay had come, bursting through the door to her
rescue, just as he had so long ago...back on Dantooine...academy.
Visions flashed by rapidly in succession: Dantooine, were a Jedi Padawan and Knight walked along the plains; the Padawan from the previous vision in Dantooine's council chamber, receiving his full status as a Jedi Knight; The younger Jedi, recently made Jedi Knight, talking to the older Jedi with both looking very embarrassed yet strangely happy; The older Jedi alone now, walking Dantooine's surface, practically glowing with joy; Both Jedi in a wonderful reastraunt, simply enjoying each other's company; The younger Jedi on one knee, holding a ring up to the older Jedi; Both Jedi in front of the Jedi council, the older with her head bent, the younger arguing vehemently with them; The younger Jedi talking to the Jedi Revan while the older looks at them with worry on her face; The younger standing on a ship's boarding ramp, holding his hand out to the older; The older Jedi dropping the ring in the younger Jedi's hand before running away, tears following in her wake, face contorted with grief; A ship taking off for war as the older watches from the ground sadly.
Atris awoke covered in a cold sweat. She began to shiver, the memories of her past love and engagement with Jay bringing with them grief that had been buried. A voice at her side made her turn, scarred, until she realized who it was.
Jay Fang: I'm surprised you still remember our past together.
Atris: Jay? Jay! Oh it is you! What happened? The last thing I remember was...
She looked around her and gasped in surprise. She was still in the meditation chamber, still surrounded by the Sith Holocrons, only they were silent. More than silent in fact: It was hard to focus on them for they were using the force to try and push attention away from themselves. She was confused for a moment until she felt the underlying feelings. Contempt, fear, mixed together and flowing from all of them, creating an acrid sensation that she could almost taste, all of which was directed at Jay.
Atris: The Holocrons. What did you-
Jay Fang: I taught them their place. Now come, we've much to discuss.
He turned and began to walk away, his Jal Shey armor billowing out behind him. Atris lay there, stunned and rooted to the spot, until she suddenly began floating. Looking around fearfully, she saw one of Jay's hands held out behind him. She began to protest this treatment from him, but suddenly found an iron grip closing over her voice box. She began to feel true fear and ceased to struggle, being pulled by Jay to whatever fate had in store for her.
HK-47: Threat: This is your last chance.
HK-47's seven foot frame was dripping in blood. He had one arm held out, hand grasping painfully on a Twi'Lek's face. Once
beautiful, this dancer was now a gruesome sight to behold. Various wounds covered her blue body and on her head there where
two bleeding stumps from were her two lekku had been ripped off. HK-47, from many years of dealing with 'meatbags', knew that
nothing could save the girl, but still he had his master's orders to follow.
Gasping for breath, the Twi'Lek in his hand managed to utter one word.
Twi'Lek: SCHUTTA!
HK-47: Tired Reply: Sigh As I had expected, you did not give me an acceptable answer.
Try as she might, the Twi'Lek didn't have the energy to spit at him, and after a hydraulic whine from HK-47's hand, she didn't have the ability to spit either.
Dropping the fresh corpse with a small splash, HK-47 began walking out of the nightmarish cantina, ignoring the body parts he stepped on and the footprints he was making in the blood. Turning back at the door, he did a quick mental tally.
HK-47: Surprise: What? I've already killed 136 dead force-sensitizes? And that's this planet alone. Worried Remark: Oh I do hope master won't deactivate me for this. After all, I'm mearly following his orders...