Chapter 3

Atton watched the corridor and glanced occasionally at Grace as she bypassed the door and slipped through the small opening over the scratched Lock-up counter to drop inside. He admired the way she flexed as she stood up to survey the lockers. The faint sound of lockers opening followed as she moved from one to another. Atton returned his attention back towards the Reception Room as a small tight knot formed in his gut. Not good. Not good at all…

"Here," Grace murmured as she shoved their equipment through the hole into the mens waiting hands and then pulled herself halfway through. "Stuck," she grumbled as her old denim jacket she had put on caught on the frame and held her back. Atton moved in front of the counter and grabbed Grace under the elbows and pulled. She slid out the rest of the way and collapsed into his chest with a small gasp as Atton held her warm weight and her feet touched the floor. Grace leaned into him for a second as she regained her feet before she moved away, leaving his arms empty. Atton watched her a second longer than necessary then swung his head and turned around to look further for Allan, his weapons dangling from his hand.

"Over here," Allan whispered quietly from beside the set of closed doors.

Atton slung his belt around his hips as he moved to join Allan and automatically adjusted the weight of his weapons. His hand dropped to his blaster to feel the familiar contours of the grip.

Allan placed a finger to his lips and then he pointed to the bend in the scuff-marked corridor. Atton nodded and held up four fingers. He drew his blaster and started to move as a hand caught his elbow to swing him around to face Grace who smiled as she held up two Stealth belts taken from Lock-up. She passed one to Atton and the other to Allan who raised an eyebrow in query. Grace replied with a smug smile and indicated for him to put the belt on. As her gaze shifted down the corridor she then pointed at Atton and motioned to him to move to the left. She pointed to herself and indicated a move to the right. Then pointed at Allan and pointed at the floor. Allan's face tightened and he shook his head. Grace looked at him for a second before lifting a fist, shaking it three times and flicking two fingers out. Atton rolled his eyes at the thought of the outcome. Never play Rock, Pad, Blade with a Jedi. They cheat… A twitch of a grin flew across his mouth as Allan held out a fist and both the Jedi and the woman went through the motions.

Never play Rock, Paper, Scissors with a Jedi. They cheat… thought Grace a bit sourly as she moved to the corner. She heard the faint hum as the two Stealth belts were activated and felt a light brush as one of the men moved past. Closing her eyes she focused on Force-fading and disappeared from view. She opened her eyes and spread her senses trying to find where Atton and Allan had moved. Though faint, she could just feel Atton already moving down the left side of the room. Allan had moved to the right. She moved to the doorway to look into the room. The four guard's attention was now firmly fixed on something on a monitor by the exit. Fear curled off them like steam adding to the sense of growing unease each felt. A chill flew down her spine as she also felt another familiar, darker presence barely ten feet away from the doors. Time to move… She moved swiftly and silently, her Ran'ie sword still in its lacquered scabbard. She vaulted onto the right end of the u-shaped, battered wooden desk dominating the room and flowed along its surface. Her hand moved to the hilt as she reached the bottom end and glanced at the monitor on the wall that held the guard's attention. She had her first view outside the exit. A figure strode up as one of the guards began unlocking the door. They shouldn't be letting him in! Got to stop them now!…Still hidden by the Force and using her momentum Grace leapt off the desk and drew her sword with one fluid motion bringing the blade over in an arcing angle to cut at the first guards neck as she appeared in mid air. She fell to a knee as she brought it around and forwards for a sideways strike at her next opponent's legs. Blaster fire hit another of the guards as Atton expertly sniped from the middle of the left-side wall. Allan surprised the last guard as he appeared suddenly from the cover of his Stealth belt to strike hard and deadly. Blood flowed and pooled on the floor leaving the sudden smell of iron in the air. Within two seconds only the two injured guards remained as the doors finished unlocking and opened.

Grace looked up from her kneeling position and into the face of a man dressed in tailored yet loose charcoal and black layered clothes that covered him from boot to hood. A lightsaber sat at his waist beside a wicked, curved knife held on a wide belt. Under the hood two blood-shot eyes glared back at her in a face she had once thought handsome and was now pallid, marred by a livid scar bisecting his face from cheek to cheek. The Assassin glared back, the guards forgotten, as she brought her sword up and shifted into a defensive stance. Standing before her was an old ally she had not seen in over three years. Not since she had chosen to defy her orders and, instead of killing, had protected a lone Jedi who had shown her another way to see the galaxy, another way to see herself. Three years since she had ran and hid from those who had taken her in from her exile and trained her in the ways of the Force. Three years since she had left a room littered with corpses and one living Jedi. Three years since she had attacked the other members of her strike team and left them for dead. Kelbourne! I didn't kill all of them…

"Traitor!" he snarled as he drew his lightsaber from his belt.

Traitor?… Allan shook his head in disbelief. As the lightsaber ignited with a hiss he stepped forward with his vibrosword ready but loose in his hands.

"No, Master Berrun. This one is mine," Grace stated as she came up from her knee. Her eyes never left off watching as she shifted into a more aggressive pose. The Dark Jedi stepped backwards, back onto the Promenade. Grace followed smoothly, taking up a position where she had room to move. Both faced off against each other and ignored the people around.

Allan's eyes moved to take in the scenery behind the two protagonists. Scattered along the way were clumps of people outside booths and stores, staring at the scene outside the Security Centre. Fear, awe, distaste, hate flowed from all directions. Allan's eyes moved to his right and he found himself looking at Captain Savar and a group of Security guards. Each man looked eager to shoot but they held back to watch. The Captain looked daggers at Allan before looking back at the Dark Jedi.

"Jedi Kelbourne?…" he asked cautiously.

"So Kelbourne, are you going to have them shoot us?" inquired Grace in a clear, mocking voice. "Or do you want to finish this in a proper duel - just you and me and our two blades?"

"I am not afraid of you. There may have been a time when you could beat me but I have grown strong in the Force and you… " Kelbourne sneered. "You are nothing now. A waste of good genetics. A mere shadow of what you could have been… Of what you were."

"I am more than you will ever know Kelbourne. Not wasted - just waiting," Grace returned more calmly. "Kill me if you can. If I kill you then we are leaving peacefully. No hassles. No blaster bolts in the back. Understand Captain?"

Savar sneered back in confidence and obvious disagreement.

"Master Berrun?" inquired Grace as her eyes never left her opponents. "Perhaps you would like to… persuade… the Captain to agreeing to the deal?"

"Master?…" Savar swallowed in sudden discomfort. He looked back at Allan with new-found fear and dismay. "Master Jedi. You did not say… Persuasion will not be necessary. You have my word nothing will be done to you or yours while you are on my Station… If the Assassin wins this duel." He finished and motioned for the Security guards to stand down.

"Allan? Did you know this was going to happen? Did you know what she was?" asked a quiet but tense voice of Atton from behind Allan.

"No," murmured Allan out the side of his mouth. "But for some reason I cannot place I trust Grace to get us out of this mess," he added. "I feel there is more to her than what we have heard here. Give her a chance to tell her own story." Allan returned part of his attention to the surrounding people, the rest he put to the question of the person that was Grace. She is a Force Adept but she said she is not a Jedi. But she does not feel like Sith. There is something else about her I cannot put my finger on. She is remarkably honest when she needs to be but holds a lot of secrets. I cannot help trusting her in some small part. She seems to inspire trust almost as if she creates bonds like I do. Perhaps the Force has a good reason for crossing our paths like this… Thoughts churned through his mind as the duel unfolded.

Oblivious to the exchange happening by the doors Grace and Kelbourne began manoeuvring for an advantage as they faced off against one another. Grace studied her opponent's movements for several seconds, seeing no opening to strike.She breathed calmly, drawing on the Force to help guide her hands as she stepped sideways and brought her sword to a low guard position. Kelbourne followed her movements but brought his 'saber into a higher stance. The crimson light from his lightsaber wavered as he tensed to strike. Grace lunged suddenly forward, a blur of movement as she saw her opening. Kelbourne was fast, but not fast enough to stop twenty-six inches of high quality Ran'ie made blade roll and slip under his defences and pierce him up through the heart. He fell to his knees as his lightsaber fell from numb hands. Grace pulled out her sword and slashed sideways to sever his head. She regarded the people around her as she flicked the blood off the sword and returned it to its scabbard. She stepped with silent menace towards Savar.

"There is no need for more violence Assassin," he began. Grace stopped. "I gave my word nothing would happen to the Jedi and his own." Savar smirked slowly. "But I never said anything about you leaving." Savar moved to aim his blaster at Grace.

The smirk fell off his face as the blade of a vibrodagger was pressed gently but firmly against his throat from behind. Grace looked past Savar. Atton smiled without humour and quietly asked the man, "So tell me. Are you feeling lucky today? Or do you want to see how much violence I can do? Hmh?" He tightened the angle of the blade. Savar moved onto tiptoes to avoid the blade cutting him.

Allan watched the Captains face and motioned at both Atton and Grace. "He is with me and so is she. Do you refute my claim? No? Then we all will go. Let him go. We are leaving now," Allan said as he turned away from the scene in front to move towards the Docks. He didn't look back as he called Savar's bluff.

Grace went back to Kelbourne's corpse, picked up his lightsaber and put it on her belt. A twitch of a satisfied smile slid across her mouth as she turned slowly and followed Allan.

Atton removed the blade and stepped away to follow along. He looked at the other guards who lowered what weapons they had lifted and felt a small spike of satisfaction as none dared to look him fully in the eye. Atton moved without hurry, his stride long but easy as if he were taking a stroll through a park, as if thinking of another time when he used to receive that sort of fear.

Allan stood at the entrance to the Docks and waited silently for his companions. As he looked around he noted the shadows and the narrow lanes between the cargo containers. A good place for an ambush… He spread his senses outwards and felt the residue of pain lingering on the air and several hidden observers. He sighed quietly and readied for another fight.

"They won't attack us. News travels fast. Unlike the good Captain, these people will hold to the spirit of the deal," Grace spoke as she drew level. "Gives them more of a thrill for the hunt if it continues," she added dryly.

"And why are these people hunting you? What of Kelbourne? What was he to you?" inquired Allan as Atton reached them.

"For what you've just been through I know you deserve a long explanation. I'll give it to you when we're out of here."

"You had better," Atton growled as he overheard Grace. "I don't enjoy having a bunch of guns at my back and wondering when the people holding them are going to shoot me."

"They wouldn't have. Don't deny you didn't feel it too."

"Listen, what I feel or don't feel is none of your concern," Atton spat out. "Let's just get to the Hawk and get out of here. We'll see whether your explanation will be any good when we hear it." Atton moved ahead down the aisle between two containers.

"Okay. Before we go there are a couple of things that need to be done," Grace said as she glanced at Allan as they started walking.

"Such as?" Allan maneuvered past a barrel in the way.

"For one, you need navigation charts. Have your little friend on the comm download what he can and while he's at it he can deal with problem number two. That being the fact that the Captain said they wouldn't do anything while you're on the station. Once we leave we're fair game. If I were who I once was I would have recommended we destroy the spacestation as we left." She paused as she shook her head. "But as I'm not - I recommend a virus in the mainframe to corrupt any information about us and a block on the comm systems to hold off them and delay them passing information about us to other parties. I don't particularly want to come out of hyperspace into a waiting trap."

Atton spun around, his mouth working as he tried to find a hole in her logic. He glared at Grace instead and turned back. "Let's go," he ground out as he strode faster ahead.

Grace watched the scoundrels retreating back. Allan sensed a deep sadness before she hid behind her own mental walls.

"Do not give up yet," Allan gently encouraged her. "I do not think he is angry at you for what has happened. He is angry because he is confused over what he feels and he does not like to be confused. He has not had to think deeply about something like this in a long time."

"Something like what?" Grace mumbled.

Allan glanced sideways at Grace. "You are starting to remind him of what his old life was like. And I do not believe he truly came to terms with his old life in our travels together. Perhaps that is why he has not asked me to train him in the ways of the Force. Because he thinks he is not worthy enough, not good enough. It is something he will have to come to terms with in his own time. Perhaps he needs a reminder that others can change also." Allan smiled sadly and sighed. He straightened his shoulders and looked around. "But enough of these maudlin thoughts. We need to keep our focus on the now. Let us leave this place and let the Force guide us on our journey."

Atton made a beeline from the cargo area to the hangers as his thoughts churned over. He saw the small astromech T3-M4 waiting by a terminal along one wall.

"Beed de dee do dee. Dobe de bebede."

"Don't tell me. Do I look like I know everything? Go talk to Allan, you tin can," barked Atton as he stormed past the droid. He continued towards the hanger where the Ebon Hawk was sitting.

"Dwooo."

Atton chose to ignore the droid's comment as he stepped onto the hanger floor and moved to the ramp of the Hawk. He looked back to see Allan talking with T3 at the entrance to the hanger while Grace stood by the Jedi's shoulder. Atton felt a sudden urge to just go back to her, tell her it wasn't her fault he was acting this way, tell her he didn't care what she was before. But that would have been a lie. He did care what she had been before. He wanted to know what made her change to the person she was now. The person who moved with such grace and skill as she fought, who joked with him in the cells but blushed when he showed an interest in her. The woman he wanted with a strong intensity but didn't trust so quickly as Allan seemed to. The anger faded, leaving him a sour taste in his mouth, and he dragged his hands through his hair in frustration. She probably doesn't want to talk to you again after the way you acted anyway. Best to forget any notions you had and just stick to piloting, playing pazaak and cracking wise at bad times… He turned back and walked up the ramp and headed for the cockpit.

As Grace walked with Allan to the Ebon Hawk she got her first view of her transport. The Ebon Hawk was a medium sized freighter, built around a saucer main section with the cockpit jutting out from the central edge and additional blocky wings facing forwards. A boarding ramp sat open between the left wing and the cockpit. Two engines thrust out the back end. What color that was left was a peeling white and red. Obvious weld marks ran across its plating like the many scars on a war veteran, some old, some new.

"You flew in that?" she asked in wry amusement.

"Oh yes. You should have seen her the last time Atton crashed the Hawk," Allan smiled with the memory. "There was nowhere to sleep except the main hold because he broke the pressure seals on both dormitories. It took a while to return to Citadel Station to get her repaired. She may look a little battered but she is fast, and there are a lot of good memories on board."

"It's certainly distinctive."

"Yes. She is. Come on in. T3 will be with us shortly and I should get Atton to start pre-flight. Have a look around and put your pack in the starboard dormitory. That is the one just to your left as you enter. I'll shift out and move in with Atton when there is more time."

Grace followed up the ramp and headed left to find the dormitory was contained in one of the wings of the ship. Three bunks lay against the outside wall. She dropped her pack on one of the bunks and left to explore the rest of the ship as the sound of the engines started up. She wandered through the garage and out past the engine room on her left, noted the medical bay and secondary airlock on her right, and continued past the storage room until she found herself at a T-intersection. To the left was the port dormitory and to the right was the main hold. She paused to look left but decided Atton might not approve of her snooping and instead walked into the main room.

"Question: Who are you and what are you doing on this ship?"

Grace stared at the rusty red droid with the large carbine blaster pointed in her direction. The droid managed to radiate a certain menacing eagerness around itself.

"My name is Grace and I was invited. I'm helping Master Berrun. Who are you?"

"Proud Statement: I am HK-47, an advanced model assassin droid. My primary function is to terminate any meatbag my Master requires removed. Disapproving Addendum: But he has shown no inclination to using my functions correctly. Master Berrun has me only shoot meatbags in self-defense." The droid shook its head and sighed as it lowered the carbine.

"Right. Good. I'll just be going now," Grace said carefully and, leaving the droid alone, she walked the short distance to the cockpit. Allan stood by the navigation computer near the door while Atton sat in the pilot's seat. Allan turned to look at her for a second before returning his attention to the computer. Atton chose not to look her way as he powered up the ship, though she knew he was aware of her presence.

"That is one creepy droid you have. I though you weren't the sort to have an assassin droid."

"I inherited him from the previous owner of the Hawk. Revan made him and she had a weird sense of humor. I am hoping something will jog his memory core as we travel."

"And why are you traveling?"

"We are searching for Revan. What happens when we find her is another story," Allan shrugged.

"You know how I hate to interrupt these moments but are we going now?" Atton interrupted. "I mean to say, the ship's ready to leave. Just say the word."

"As soon as T3 boards we can leave. As a matter of fact, I will wait at the ramp for him. He has already managed to transmit a large amount of co-ordinates to the navigation computer." Allan turned to Grace. "Grace, perhaps you would like to pick a place for us to go? Maybe someplace where we could gather more information without the trouble we had here. Excuse me." Allan looked at the back of Atton's head, almost willing the man to come to his senses and talk to Grace, then he exited the cockpit.

The sound of the idling engines filled the silence in the cockpit. Grace looked at the chart showing on the navi-comp and picked three likely places to go. She turned back to the room and regarded Atton before slipping into the co-pilots seat. The silence stretched out.

"Um," began Atton. Grace looked past the partition to find Atton looking over at her. "Listen. Thing is, we've already had to deal with someone who turned around and shafted us royally. I don't want Allan to go through that again. I don't want to go through that again. And, well…" He scratched behind an ear.

"You mean you don't trust me," Grace responded quietly.

"No." Atton continued to look at her and frowned. "What I mean is… Look. I don't apologize very often. I'm not good at it. I'm trying to here. I meant I don't think you would deliberately do that to us. Put us in the poodoo, you know?"

Grace thought over what was just said. "I think I understood that. It's definitely a different way of apologizing," she teased with a smile on her face.

"Look. Are you accepting it or not? Because it's the best you'll get from me," Atton responded with a matching smile.

"Oh, I think I could," Grace returned companionably. "I think the ramps up." She pointed at a light on the controls.

"Okay. Lets go then."