Chapter 11 – An Even Worse Hangover

When Atton opened his eyes slowly and with great difficulty, he was quite glad—for once—to be space traveling aboard the Ebon Hawk. At least it's always dark here… As he regained consciousness, he started becoming aware of the fact that he wasn't alone. He painfully lifted his head up and saw Mira sitting on the foot of the bed, holding a glass of water, looking at him. "Hey, gorgeous!" he said, squinting.

"I thought I told you never to call me that again. What are you, still drunk?" She eyed Atton's still fully dressed form with some amusement.

Atton wrinkled his nose. "Maybe a little. I am mostly hungover, though."

Mira smirked. "Good. Cause that's why I'm here." She handed him a couple pills she held in her hand, and the glass of water. Atton blinked a few times before accepting them.

"What are you, the hangover fairy?" he asked, promptly swallowing the pills she offered. Bao-Dur had been right. This was a rough hangover. He felt as though he could barely move, lest his head exploded. "Please tell me this is the same stuff as last time," he said, referring to the pills.

Mira nodded. "Yeah… the last two. You're on your own after this, flyboy."

Atton downed the glass of water, trying not to slop it all over his pillow. "Okay… well, as long as I have them today—that's the important part. Because honestly, that stuff Mical's got in the medical room does squat. And the way my head's feeling right now…" Wincing, he attempted to sit up, but gave up when he realized it only made the severe pounding in his head worse. He dropped back down onto his pillow. "So why are you here? I mean, other than the pill thing. What, were you just sitting here, watching me sleep?"

Mira flashed him a crooked smile. "Pretty much."

Atton, who was already frowning from the pain, frowned even further. "That's kind of… weird… don't you think? Plus isn't that going to make Dustil jealous?" Mira laughed and Atton winced. "Ouch!" he protested. "No laughing! Hurt… head…" He rubbed his temples.

"Sorry," she said, lowering her voice and stifling her laugher. "So you noticed? About Dustil, I mean…"

Atton cracked half a smile. "Kind of hard not to." He groaned as he attempted to flip onto his stomach, hoping to then be able to push himself up. "I think the only one who hasn't noticed is Carth. Probably just in denial that he could suddenly become a grandfather."

Mira giggled. "It's not like that, pervert. We're just friends… for now."

Atton flipped his head sideways to look at Mira and he raised an eyebrow. "So no Bothan stunners or starving him for three days yet, then…" he said feebly. He smirked. "Poor guy. Isn't he a little young for you anyway?" he asked, finally managing to sit up without too much pain.

She didn't seem phased by his remark. "Not really… I'm a lot younger than you are, you know! Just because you're in your thirties doesn't mean we all are."

"Fair enough," he muttered, trying to keep the volume at a bare minimum. "All right, so why were you watching me sleep, then… at the risk of making your young boyfriend jealous?"

Mira shrugged. "He's sparring with Mical right now, so he wouldn't have come here anyway. I just came to check up on you, to make sure you didn't choke on your tongue or something. And you looked… peaceful. You never look peaceful, not even when you sleep."

"I've never looked peaceful?" He lifted his pillow up and uncovered his pazaak deck. He blinked. Hey, there it is after all. Well, that's weird… I must have put it there when I got changed before getting off the ship. He put the deck in his pocket, propped the pillow up against the wall, and leaned his back up against it. He briefly closed his eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't say that…" Mira said thoughtfully. "You did look peaceful, once… between Malachor and Telos."

Atton seemed surprised. "Did I?" He paused. "Yeah, I guess that was the only time I felt peaceful in my life… Jena and I were happy… Well… I thought we were, anyway… And the nagging feelings of guilt were temporarily gone, though they did catch up with me as soon as we hit the ground."

Mira took his empty glass away from him. "Guilt?"

"Yeah," grumbled Atton. He breathed out. "I've been meaning to tell you… Actually, I'm kind of surprised you never asked me why Revan keeps calling me 'Jaq'."

Mira shrugged. "She said she knew you for a while, before. I assumed that was the name she knew you by… and figured that if you wanted to tell me, you'd tell me."

Atton smiled weakly. "Yeah, you've always been quick like that." He rubbed his temples again. "Look, Mira, I never told you about my past… I… I used to be with the Sith."

Mira chuckled quietly. "Well, of course you were," she said girlishly. "I figured that out ages ago—back when we still travelled with Jena."

Atton choked on his own spittle and coughed a few times, wincing between each cough. "You did?" he asked incredulously.

"Sure!" Mira said casually. "I picked up on a few things… Of course it wasn't till I met Revan that I realized you worked directly under her… so I assumed that whatever it is you did, it must've been pretty nasty."

Atton grew uncomfortable. "Well, it was. I… Ugh! I don't know how to say this…" He nervously ran his hand through his hair.

Atton glanced down to his hands. He reached for his pazaak deck and started fidgeting with the cards, carefully avoiding eye contact with Mira, who was patiently waiting. He finally opened his mouth. "I… tortured and killed Jedi for Revan during the Jedi Civil Wars."

Mira didn't look the least bit perturbed. "Okay… and…?" She waited expectantly.

Atton slowly peered back up, his arms lowering back down to the bed. He glanced confusedly at Mira. "And… That's sort of… it," he stammered.

Mira arched her eyebrows. "That's it?" she asked incredulously. "For Force's sake, Rand, you had me thinking it was something it was something unbelievably horrible!"

Atton stared. "You don't think it was something unbelievably horrible?" he faltered.

Mira swiftly smacked the back of his head. He winced terribly and muttered a few curse words. "Of course not! I mean, it's bad… but you were at war… you were on the side of the Sith. It was pretty much expected you'd be killing Jedi. Force, you had me thinking all kinds of stuff, you schutta!" She swung her arm out again, but Atton quickly ducked out of the way.

"What kinds of stuff?" He asked blankly. What could be worse than what I was doing?

Mira threw her arms up. "I don't know! Stuff… that was worse… Drowning babies… Wearing a brown belt with black boots… You know… Stuff! What you said is basically what I already thought you did!"

"Oh." He glanced down uneasily at the brown belt and black boots he was wearing.

A mischievous smile grew on Mira's lips. "I bet that's not how Jena reacted, huh!"

Atton grinned sheepishly. "Not exactly, no."

Mira's hand distractedly rested on her lightsaber hilt. "Well, in her defense, it probably hit a lot closer to home. Me, I've only been a Jedi for less than two years, while she… Well, it must've been a lot harder for her to forgive. She must really love you. I mean you might have killed some of her…" Mira stopped herself before uttering the word 'friends', feeling it may make Atton feel worse over his past than he already did. She shook her head. "But anyway, it doesn't really matter… You're not that guy anymore. You've changed—a lot. Even since I met you. I think Jena had a lot to do with that." She grinned. "Man, you're going to go crazy when you see her!"

Atton looked grim. "Yeah," he said shortly.

Mira cocked her head at a forty-five degree angle and eyed Atton thoughtfully, her grin melting away. "You don't believe you'll see her again," she stated. "That's why you got so drunk. You think you'll just keep on chasing her for the rest of your life, but you'll never find her." She looked him straight in the eyes, waiting for a response. She waited… and waited…

"Of course not," he finally lied.

"Don't give me that crap, Rand," she muttered crossly, faintly waving the empty glass around. "I know what you're thinking, you pessimistic oaf, and if you think for one second that I'm not going to make sure you find her, after watching you pine for her for weeks last year, you're stupider than I thought." She crossed her arms. "I'm getting you your Jena, and that's final," she said obstinately. "I'm not watching you mope and whine about her again. It was sickening enough the first time around."

Atton smiled weakly as Mira got up resolutely. He watched her leave the room and slid back down to a horizontal position. This is the worst hangover I've ever had. Actually, I guess that's not true… There was that one time when I was 'Lord Revan's favorite killer'… He shuddered. Yeah, I can almost still feel that one. But still… this one comes at a very close second. I hope those pills Mira gave me come through for me. Nothing could make this hangover worse. He buried his head under his pillow in an effort to dampen all noises from the ship. He smiled almost blissfully for a moment and basked in the silence. His smile faded quickly when he sensed a presence entering the room… as well as an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Come on, Jaq!" a merciless muffled voice said. "Time to spar!"

"No… Not you! You're kidding, right?" Atton said from beneath his pillow. "Come on, Rev… I feel like crap!"

Revan raised an eyebrow and a mocking smile developed on her lips. "I know! Now get up!" A groan escaped from the pillow.

"How come you're not hungover? You must've had almost as much to drink as I did!"

Revan stared. "You don't drink when you play pazaak, do you? Because I can't picture you winning a lot if that's the case… I think drinking makes you forget how to count, my dear… I had three drinks. Remember, you had that stack of empty glasses in front of you when I came to get you…"

"Just leave me alone!" Atton cried. "Why are you doing this?"

Revan pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Because I won't have you just lay there and feel sorry for yourself, Jaq. You have to learn to fight even if you are in pain." She smirked. "And there's no denying that you're in pain now… So I figured it's a good time for you to learn."

Atton scoffed and immediately winced as a result. "No you didn't, you sadistic schutta! You're just doing this to torment me."

"Well, I'll admit it is an extra perk," Revan said with a self-satisfied grin. "Now come on! You accepted to be trained by me, and dammit! I'm going to train you, whether you're hungover or not."

She uncrossed her arms and held her hand out. She jerked her wrist lightly, and the pillow flew off Atton's head, hit the wall across the room, and fell to the floor with a thump. Atton lifted his head confusedly. Squinting, he looked at Revan, who still stood a few meters away from him, and then at the pillow. "Damn Jedi," he muttered, realizing what Revan had done. He turned to her and said ungraciously, "Fine. You win. I'm coming. There's no telling what you're going to start doing to me if I don't. I do have the scars to prove it." He sat up and unobtrusively slipped his pazaak deck back into his pocket. "But don't ever use your powers against me again," he warned.

Revan threw him a contemptuous glance. "I do what I have to, Jaq. Now follow me, padawan."

Atton got up begrudgingly and slowly followed Revan. "So," he said lightly as they walked through the cargo hold door, "who am I fighting today? You? Mira? Dustil?"

Revan quickly turned her head to hide a smile. "Mical."

Atton stared at Revan and blinked twice. "You spiteful little bishwag!" he spat. "What did I ever do to you?"

Revan raised an eyebrow, twisted her lips into a smug smile and opened her mouth. However, before she had a chance to say anything, a voice coming from the corridor interrupted her. "Don't worry, Atton, I'm about as rhapsodic about this as you are." Mical walked in through the door, his hand loosely placed on his lightsaber hilt and a sour expression on his face. Atton crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Then why did you accept to do it? She's not your master…" Atton spoke bitterly, loath to admit Revan's position. "You don't have to do what she says."

Revan snorted. "Since went do you ever do what I say?" she mumbled to herself.

"Perhaps not…" Mical told Atton, smirking over Revan's comment. "However, she did ask me to do this as a favor to her, and I obliged."

This is not happening… Atton briefly shut his eyes and opened them again. When are those pills going to start kicking in? My head… He shook his head in disbelief. Me and Mical with weapons… Why would she ever…? He quickly recovered his wits and glared at Mical. "Of course you obliged," he said scathingly. "You always obliged whenever Jena asked you to do something as well." He shut his eyes, sporting a pained expression and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "What are you trying to do now, steal Revan from Carth?"

Mical rolled his eyes. "Oh, lovely. That's mature."

Atton opened his eyes and stopped rubbing his nose. He glared at Mical. "Well, it's not exactly a long shot. You're a lot more manipulative than you let on. I'm on to you. I know the only reason you even told Revan where to find me is so you could try to use my bond to track down Jena for your own selfish reasons." He scoffed. "It's just like on Telos. I believed you when you said letting her go was what was best for her… Took me a while, but I get it now. It what was best for you. It was the only way you could keep me away from her."

"You might want to have your paranoia looked after," Mical said coldly.

"Paranoid? I'm not being paranoid! All you've ever done is try to take Jena from me!" Atton cried.

Mical shielded his eyes with his hand and shook his head slightly. His hand dropped down his face and he opened his mouth, but Revan touched his arm lightly. "That's enough, boys… Remember, there is no passion and all that other stuff." She waved her hand dismissively. "I brought you here to spar like adults, not so you could start a schoolyard fight."

"Then you might have considered organizing this little game on a day I wasn't hungover," Atton grumbled under his breath. "I'm not exactly feeling like my usual charming self," he added sarcastically.

Revan looked away from Atton, pretending he had not spoken. "I want you two to set your differences aside for a few minutes. And I know you can do it. Now please prove I'm right about this, Jaq." She suddenly turned back and glared at him. He shrugged. "I want you to learn to control your temper when you're fighting, hungover or not. It's all part of that focusing thing."

Atton clenched his teeth. There's that word again! He heaved a sigh as Revan headed to the far wall and stood with her back up against it. Atton looked at Mical and took a deep breath. "Fine, fine… Let's get this over with." He breathed again. Guess I should at least try to calm down… Let's see… there is no passion, there is…there is… crap, I forget the rest. Is it peace or serenity? Is there a difference? Still trying to remember his Jedi code, he shot a black look at Mical as they both walked toward the center of the room and faced each other. They pulled out their weapons and stood, immobile, glaring at each other, and the idle hum of their lightsabers was the only sound that could be heard in the room. After a few moments, Revan cleared her throat loudly, as neither one of them had budged. Atton finally took a step forward, quickly mimicked by Mical. They both lunged and their blades clashed. Atton slashed down, but Mical quickly moved out of the way and retaliated, missing his mark by a long shot, due to Atton ducking rapidly. Atton narrowed his eyes and determined he would have to make a move Mical wouldn't be able to predict—which would likely be a difficult task. He swung his saber, but Mical quickly parried the blow. Atton pursed his lips, doing his best to forget his headache. He says he's not up to anything, but I know better. His lightsaber struck Mical's. I mean he talked me into letting her go to… He blocked a hit. He's a really good actor. Plays the good boy so everybody trusts him… Hell even Carth trusts him! As a reflex, he quickly raised his lightsaber, just in time to block a hit that razed the side of his head. His nostrils caught a slight whiff of singed hair. Did the schutta just burn my hair

"Whoa, relax a bit, guys…" Revan said, stepping forward and temporarily interrupting the match. "Atton, you're not focusing. Mical, you might want to try going a bit easier on him. I don't want him to actually get killed." She paused, looked at Atton—who was deep in the process of figuring out how much of his hair had been burned off—cocked an eyebrow, and muttered thoughtfully, "Although…" She sighed, backed away and motioned for them to carry on.

Go easy on me? thought the outraged Atton, his attention turning away from his hair. Fuming, he set his teeth and started concentrating more on what he was doing. He resolutely re-ignited his lightsaber and charged. His blows became more precise and Mical started avoiding them with a bit more difficulty. The latter briefly frowned as Atton almost managed to strike him, but chuckled after he barely—but successfully—managed to block Atton's hit. Revan interrupted them again.

"Good shot, Jaq. Mical almost missed that one. Though from here I couldn't really tell if that shot was calculated on your part, or if it was pure luck."

Mical smiled contemptuously. "I sincerely doubt any number of haphazard feats like that one would allow you to save your skin in a real battle. Luck only goes so far… and couldn't possibly manage to turn a reprobate into a Jedi," he told Atton.

Revan raised a suspicious eyebrow and glanced scrutinizingly at Mical for a few seconds, while Atton, convinced he had been insulted, but not entirely sure how, still analyzed what he had just heard. "Come on, Mical, lay off the trash talk," Revan finally said, turning around and walking back toward the wall.

Mical peered in Revan's direction, smiled mockingly at Atton and muttered barely loud enough for Atton to hear, "I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise that you've managed to beguile her too. You always did have a way with women, it seems… Although I can hardly understand why."

Atton scoffed. "You're kidding, right? She hates me!"

"While I could not quite condemn anyone for feeling that way, I'm afraid that's not the case. She's rather fond of you, for some strange reason," Mical said quietly.

"Well then she's got a funny way of showing it…" He glanced at the woman standing up against the wall and shook his head in disbelief.

Mical smirked. "Perhaps you would prefer she showed her interest in a more crudely obvious manner, then? What's wrong, Atton? Can't wait for Jena?"

Atton opened his mouth in protest, but got cut off by Revan. "Anytime you're ready!" she called out impatiently from the wall. Her arms were crossed, and she looked rather unimpressed by her pupils.

Atton and Mical wisely decided to begin sparring once again. "Look, Mical, I don't know where you found this spice you've clearly been chewing, and I'm not sure I want to ask, but… What are you talking about?" Atton enquired between hits.

"The way you and Liah carry on sometimes…" Mical parried Atton's attack, grinning. "You'd think you were an old married couple. It makes one wonder exactly what it is that exists between you two…"

"There's nothing between 'us two'. Unless of course you count our heart-warming history of hating each other," quipped Atton.

Mical smirked. "Ah yes… your history," he said, seemingly amused. "I wonder what Jena will think about that."

Atton shrugged quickly before countering one of Mical's hits. "Jena knows everything she needs to know, not that it's any of your business."

Mical smiled smugly. "Does she, now? By that I suppose you mean you told her of your past as Lord Revan's lackey?" Atton took a step back, flicked off his lightsaber and stared at Mical, who snickered as he switched off his own. "Oh, don't look so surprised. Liah hasn't exactly made a big secret of your past affiliation. You know this yourself. What I haven't been able to figure out is what it is exactly that you did for her… I imagine it must have been rather unpleasant if you managed to upset Jena enough to run away from you on Dantooine."

Atton's nostrils flared. He waved his hands impatiently. "How did you…? She wasn't running from—"

"Less chatting, more sparring!" a clear voice from the far wall commanded. "I don't know what it is you boys are talking about, but I can tell you shouldn't be talking about it right now…" Atton glared at Mical as he re-ignited his lightsaber. Mical imitated him, smirking. Atton vaguely attempted to recall his Jedi code. He's trying to get my back up. I bet Revan put him up to it. Well, I'm not going to give them the satisfaction. There is no… uh… there is no emotion…

"Jena deserves far more than a callow, unprincipled scoundrel like yourself," Mical suddenly whispered harshly.

Atton easily countered two of Mical's blows, which put him in a relatively better mood. "When did you start resorting to name calling, Mical? I thought that was my area of expertise." A slightly cruel grin spread over his face. "And what are you more upset about? That Jena chose a callow, unprincipled scoundrel like myself… Or that she chose a callow, unprincipled scoundrel like myself… over you?" Mical struck Atton's lightsaber so violently that Atton felt the hilt slip a little in his hands. He readjusted his grip and continued mischievously, " What's wrong? Hit a nerve, Mical?"

Mical pursed his lips, but slightly relaxed his features as he struck at Atton twice more, in a more controlled fashion. He tried to smile. "Like anything you could utter would ever generate such a reaction from me. You're giving yourself far too much credit, Atton."

"No… No, I don't think so. I think it burns you that someone you consider your inferior managed to get her by being a general pain in the ass, when you couldn't win her over with your book smarts and your overall good guy attitude."

Mical turned his lightsaber off and stared at Atton. After hesitating a little, Atton did the same. Mical's tone was dangerously calm. "Well, I at least never would have stooped to spying on her when she was meditating with you… assuming she ever did."

Atton crossed his arms. "No… All you did was conveniently knock on the door at a very inopportune moment and pretended you hadn't known what was going on."

Mical became pale. "You lowly, squalid cad!" he hissed. "How dare you even touch her?" Properly enraged, he ignited his lightsaber and took a step forward. Atton brandished his weapon and adopted a defensive stance, not breaking eye contact.

"All right boys, I think that's enough sparring for today," Revan declared tentatively, only to immediately realize that both parties were ignoring her. Lowering his defenses, Atton took a bold step toward Mical, but was quickly forced back as he encountered a powerful blow. Another strike caused him to waver and almost lose his grip. Surprised, Atton backed away again. Well, you certainly did it, Rand. He's not happy with you. You're probably the only person in the galaxy to ever manage to piss him off. He did his best to counter Mical's attacks, but found himself forced to retreat yet again. I have to stop backing up so much, or I'll be pinned against the wall! He concentrated on gaining ground. He managed to strike forcefully at Mical's lightsaber, which threw the young man back a few feet. Atton became vaguely aware of something Revan was saying—something muffled that sounded like 'Stop'—but all he could think of was what he was doing. Have to stay calm… There is no emotion, there is… uh… peace… He breathed in deeply as he parried a blow. There is no passion… there is serenity… Yeah, I think that's it… There is… He frowned as he blocked a flurry of attacks from Mical. There is no… point in trying to stay calm! To hell with it. This guy is making me crazy! He felt the anger swell up within him. His frustration, his despair, his resentment, everything he had felt since he had left Jena, all came bursting to the surface. He fought back very suddenly, slashing violently at Mical, and taking great strides, backing him up closer and closer to the wall. Mical attempted to fight back, but he could barely manage to parry Atton's hits.

An image suddenly flashed in Atton's mind and he was touched by a familiar presence. It was very brief, but it was enough to make him forgetall about his outburst of emotion. Where did…? Was that…? Mical took advantage of his sudden hesitation to strike powerfully at Atton's lightsaber, which slipped from his hands, turned itself off and dropped to the floor, rolling away. Atton barely noticed the fact that he was no longer armed. "Jena?" he muttered absent-mindedly, blind to the fact that Mical was swinging his blade back…

"I SAID STOP IT!" Revan yelled, as she threw her hand out and ejected Mical's lightsaber from his hands. It landed on the opposite side of the room as Atton's.

Atton stared in front of him and did not notice Revan's angry countenance, or Mical's slightly shamed and remorseful demeanor. All he could think of was the fact that for one second, he had seen her… that for one second, he had—yes, he had sensed their bond… It had been very furtive, but it had been there. Though search as he might, it was gone again. No! Not again! It was bad enough the first time! Jena! Couldn't you at least let me know where you are? He despairingly turned back and fled the cargo hold without as much as a glance at Revan and Mical

Author's Notes: Ugh! Sorry this chapter took so long... It was a bit of a pain to write. This chapter was actually going to be much longer, but I figured this was likely long enough for one chapter. ;) The good news is, chapter 12 is pretty much all written (I still need to go over it and tweak it a little, but it's pretty much done), so the wait before the next chapter gets posted won't be as long. ;)

Anyway, as always, I would love to hear what you think about my chapter... And for those who are wondering, yes Jena will be showing up... soon. :)

SS