The Force permeated every living creature in the known universe. It guided beings to unseen destinies and influenced the history of civilization to an unknown extent. It was powerful and unforgiving in nature. It was the way towards salvation and destruction. Those that could wield such a potent weapon would always have a tangible advantage over others.

One mind capable of such control wandered the paths of the Force, following the countless threads of existence to their sources. She listened to the vibrations of the waves sent to her, interpreting intentions, feelings and thoughts without effort. Her conscious being drifted along the channels of life, so abundant on Nar Shaddaa.

Slowly, she became aware of a slight disturbance through the Force, one that was directly related to her. She turned her attention to the disruption, her mind seeking out the problem. A strong feeling of freedom washed over her; a feeling that came only when all inhibitions were removed. This was the product of only one factor: heavy drink.

Kreia abruptly broke her meditation and scowled. The fool had gotten the Exile drunk, most likely in one of the seediest cantinas in the sector. She could feel the muffled effects of the depressant through their bond. The woman promptly rose and stalked off the Ebon Hawk, determined to retrieve the inebriated Jedi.

The fool had been nothing but a hindrance since he had joined their party. All he did was consume their supplies and distract Eiron when she needed to focus. Always irresponsible, he was letting the weakness of alcohol consume the Exile, encouraging her towards it in fact. The more Kreia focused on their bond, the more she could feel Atton's influence behind the motions. It greatly angered the old woman, that the man could have such an impression on Eiron. The old woman would have to remedy that, since her warnings to tread carefully had not been enough for the dense idiot.

Kreia soon found herself outside what was likely the most disreputable cantina in the vicinity. She scowled again and entered, subconsciously using breathe control to avoid inhaling much of the rank odors within the room. It was crowded, packed with sweaty bodies from every species. The light was dim and barely penetrated the smoke, leaving the corners and outer edges completely shadowed. The noise of the music and holo dancers was almost unbearable–not because of the volume, but because of the screeching tune.

Kreia had analyzed her surroundings within moments, aware of every possible enemy and their state of consciousness. Her eyes soon turned to the center of an impromptu dance floor. She stared at the area, noting with disgust that she had found her quarry.

Eiron was only one of many dancing to the ear-splitting music. Her outer robes had been thrown somewhere and her hair let down. She was grinning wildly and laughing over something as she continued dancing. Kreia's anger deepened when she saw how little space there was between her and Atton.

The fool had also gone without his favorite ribbed jacket and outer shirt. One hand remained on her hip while they danced and his head was forever tilted downward towards her own. His lips moved, eliciting another laugh from Eiron. They were entirely too close and too comfortable for her taste.

Though Kreia was more than annoyed over the situation, her movements were measured and calm as always, betraying nothing. She sidled up to the two and halted next to them. They noticed her presence immediately.

Eiron stopped laughing and seemed to sober. She straightened, but still managed to appear significantly off balance. "Kreia. What're you doin' here?"

Atton scowled at her and straightened as well, though he remained close to the Exile. "Yeah, what do you want?"

Kreia ignored Atton and focused solely on Eiron. "You should be in the Hawk meditating. We still have a great deal to accomplish and handicapping yourself is not helping anyone. I suggest we return to the ship immediately."

Eiron took one unsteady step forward, but Atton pulled her back. "No. She can decide for herself what she wants to do."

Kreia frowned and turned towards Atton. "You do not have a say in this. It is your fault she is incapacitated right now."

"Eiron can make her own decisions. She doesn't need anyone to tell her what to do."

"If people like you are going to mislead her, then she does."

Eiron waved her hand in front of them and nearly lost her balance in response to her sudden shift. She took a second to regain her balance before saying forcefully, "I'm right here! And Atton's done nothin' wrong. I've made my own choices."

Kreia shook her head. "He has done everything wrong. Come, we will go, we must prepare for tomorrow."

"Now hold on a second." Atton pulled Kreia away from Eiron and lead her into one of the shadowy corners so he could talk to her. Once they had more privacy, he bent his head closer to her, trying to keep their conversation private. "You really are blind because you obviously can't see that Eiron has been exhausted the past few days. She has done nothing but work nonstop since Peragus. She barely even sleeps if that would mean that we might lose time. She needs to take a break and unwind without any stress and no responsibilities. You are going to destroy her if you keep pushing her. So ease up and let her be."

Kreia was silent for several long moments, her eyes watching Eiron, who had found her way to a seat on the outskirts of the cantina. "No, you listen to me murderer. The Exile has a destiny before her, and if she is weak, she will fail. Time is short and she cannot waste it in a drunken stupor as you might be fond of doing. She is capable of great things if only you do not hold her back. Leave her be, or it will be you that destroys her."

Atton clenched his jaw and lowered his voice. "That won't happen, because I won't let it. I think you need to stay away from Eiron, old witch."

Kreia turned towards Atton for the first time in their conversation. "That is not possible. However, if you do not heed me and stop interfering with the Exile, I shall make sure she knows all about your dark past."

Atton stiffened and turned his gaze to Eiron. She had hunched over in her chair and was taking on a particular sickly shade of green. He watched her for a long moment, some inner battle going on. Finally, Atton growled and spun back towards Kreia. "Forget it. You can't hold that over me any more. I'm going to tell her everything and then you'll be left with nothing. So back off schutta."

"And how do you think Eiron will take it, knowing your past sins? Knowing that you took pleasure in breaking her brothers and sisters?"

Atton shook his head. "I don't know. But I won't lie to her anymore. And I sure as hell won't be under your power for one more minute."

Atton turned and stalked off. Kreia watched as he helped the very drunk Eiron up, one arm wrapped around her waist and one of her arms draped over his shoulder. They left the cantina, Eiron throwing one last, confused look over her shoulder at the woman still hidden in the shadows.

Kreia's lips twitched. The fool may have left her grasp, but the Exile was still firmly caught in her claws.

AN: Well, here was my entry for the challenge on KFM in which someone had to get drunk/stimmed up/spiced out, etc. I originally intended for it to be lighthearted, but it obviously didn't turn out that way. Honestly, I'm not too happy with this piece. Something about it feels off to me, but I haven't been able to figure out what. If anyone has any thoughts on it, I would greatly appreciate the feedback. Of course, I love any reviews you send me! I hope you enjoyed this piece and please drop me a line! Alexandra