Chapter 6: Exodus

Alainna loved the smell of the Ebon Hawk.

The first time she had stepped aboard, she recalled, she had not felt quite the same way. The ship had smelled of cold metal and residual gizka, with just a trace of something that, at the time, had made the hair on the back of Alainna's neck stand up in a way that was overly dramatic.

Now, it smelled to her like home and hope.

Hope. The feeling was nearly a shock to Alainna's system; she could barely recognize it, having been estranged from it for so long.

"General," Bao-Dur said from behind Alainna, startling her slightly, "welcome back."

Alainna smiled. "Thank you, Bao-Dur." She inhaled deeply. "It's good to be back."

She walked deeper into the Hawk, clearly remembering every inch of it. With a bounce to her stride that gave everyone who glimpsed it hope for her health, she headed directly to the cockpit. There at the controls sat Atton, who turned at the sound of her footsteps. His sigh made it clear that he was unhappily expecting someone else, as did the start of his greeting.

"What do--"

He blinked rapidly.

Alainna laughed. "Nice to see you, too, Atton. Are we on our way?"

Atton turned quickly back to the controls. "Uh... yes. We are. Now. Almost. We will be soon, anyway. But, um..."

Atton scratched his head and turned to Alainna. His voice lower, he began to speak.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

Alainna shrugged. "Beats sitting in a hospital on Telos for a month and then dying."

"Really? You'd rather travel with a group of cryptic Jedi for a week and then die?"

"I'm glad to see your outlook hasn't changed much. Atton, I can speak cryptically with the best of them. If you'll recall, I happen to be a Jedi. And," she said, reaching past him to adjust a dial, "so do you."

Having fiddled with the controls to her satisfaction, Alainna stepped back and looked Atton squarely in the eye. He could tell that she was waiting for him to either confirm or deny what she had said, and he paused, waiting for an answer to come to him.

"I know," he said. "So what?"

Alainna shook her head. "That took too long, Atton. I'm not convinced."

Atton clenched his jaw. "Look," he said, "I don't know what more I can do. I don't know how I'm supposed to prove to you all that I'm a Jedi. I teach classes, I lift rocks, I... I don't know, I do Jedi things!"

"Atton, did you hear what you just said?"

Alainna was neither angry nor disgusted, but the concern in her eyes bordered on pity, and this served to make Atton far more upset than her anger would have. He closed his mouth.

"Atton, you're going about this the wrong way. You're trying to convince us all that you're a Jedi, but you need to believe it first."

One gloved hand reached up and stroked Atton's dark hair. He caught it, held it, bent its joints, and rested the cool leather covering Alainna's fingers against his cheek. Alainna looked at the ground, then back up to her hand. She ran long fingers down the side of Atton's face, remembering the feel of it, then pulled back her hand.

"Atton," she said, "please tell me that you feel like this whole Jedi identity crisis is a little better than it was before I left."

"How could it have been? You left. How could I possibly make any progress with you disappearing like that?"

Alainna sighed. "I... it was a mistake."

"What? Training me?" Atton's words came with a sneer.

"No! No. Just... letting you... not making you learn from anyone else."

"Like who?"

"Bao-Dur. Mical."

"Mical couldn't Jedi himself out of a paper bag."

"Atton, that doesn't mean anything."

"Well... you... you know what I mean!"

"It's still not true. Mical was on the Jedi Council, was he not?"

"Jedi Council. What a joke. It was three people, Alainna, ruling over about five more."

"Not true. And you weren't exactly one of those three people, Atton."

Atton looked more and more defeated with each sentence. Alainna felt a headache setting into her temples.

"Oh, Atton... I'm... I'm not saying you can't do it. I'm saying... I don't know what I'm saying anymore. Something about progressing. Do it. Progress. That sounds right. I need to go sit down."

Atton then remembered Alainna's medical condition, and, taking her sleeve-shielded arm, supported her to the medbay, where Atton and Alainna were greeted with a glare and deep concern, respectively.

"What did you do?"

"Mical, Atton didn't do anything. I just need a painkiller. Not a strong one, just something for a headache."

Mical nodded, and brought out the requested treatment. Instructing Alainna to lie down and shut her eyes for a moment, he turned to Atton.

"My apologies for assuming that you were involved in this," Mical said with a nod.

Atton shrugged.

"You must understand, I was simply--"

"Just do your job."

Mical nodded and, eager to avoid any anger towards Atton, returned to Alainna, who was nearly asleep now and either ignoring the tension between the two men in the room or simply too pained to notice.

Mical scanned Alainna's vitals remotely, using basic but adequate equipment that he had managed to acquire recently.

"She's fine right now," he said. Atton nodded, reassured.

"I guess I should go fly the ship, then."

"That might be best."

Atton left. Mical donned medical gloves and ran one finger down Alainna's jaw. As he had feared, it was tense even in her sleep.

"What did they do to you?" But though he asked, he hoped he never had to understand.

Mira had always liked her tiny space in the Hawk. She had no real reason for it, other than that it made her feel like she had some sort of privacy, some sort of Mira Zone, invitation only, infuriatingly calm Zabraks need not apply.

Now, as before, she stepped into the Mira Zone and ran her fingers through her scarlet hair, pleased with the current arrangement, deadly diseases and lack of known coordinates aside. Those things did not bother Mira. Nothing was allowed to bother her right now; she was in the Mira Zone, and deadly diseases were in the same category as infuriatingly calm Zabraks.

So were psychopathic droids, she thought as she watched one approach. Mira stood in the doorway, refusing to let HK inside.

"What?"

"Weary Salutation: I assure you, meatbag, I am equally pleased to see you. Alas, here we are again, in a scene which, I am sure, my nightmares would readily recreate on a regular basis, were I to ever have a need for sleep."

"Great. So, getting back to my first question: What?"

"Instruction: The horned meatbag wants to see you."

"He couldn't have walked?"

"Patient Suggestion: Meatbag, perhaps this is a matter better discussed with the executor of the request."

Mira rolled her eyes and left the comfort of the Mira Zone to find Bao-Dur.

He was with the supplies, and the fact that Mira had looked for him in at least two other areas of the ship first had not put her in any better of a mood. Even if Bao-Dur had not been able to sense her through the Force, he would have heard her stomping towards the supply room, heard her sigh as she reached it. He finished taking inventory of the food, and turned to Mira.

"Thank you for waiting."

"Yeah. Anytime."

Bao-Dur allowed time for a pause, which always made Mira uncomfortable, particularly when she knew that it was her fault. She had a feeling that Bao-Dur could tell, good though she was at keeping discomfort from showing in her face or body language. Much as her skills had allowed her to survive in the nastiness of Nar Shaddaa, she often reflected, they had not prepared her for Bao-Dur.

"Sorry. What was it you wanted, Bao-Dur?"

"Mostly," he said, moving some rations into a plasteel container, "I was wondering how you are coping with all the recent... events."

"Coping?"

"It's not every day you have to pick up and leave for places that you know nothing about and have never heard of with a terminally ill woman you haven't seen in the past year. I wouldn't blame you if you felt some degree of... stress."

Mira snickered. "You kidding? This is paradise, as long as that droid leaves me alone. Stress is having to put up with Atton's daily identity crises and Visas' power trips. And the only thing more stressful than having to stand up for Mical when Atton's tormenting him is when he stands up for himself and the whole thing turns into a fight."

Bao-Dur gave her a sympathetic smile, and she continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong. They all have their moments. And I'm sure they're mostly pretty good at Jedi-ing, too, or whatever. But I've popped more headache pills dealing with those three since Alainna left than I did the first time I met HK, and that's kind of saying something."

Bao-Dur laughed. It was a sound that Mira had rarely heard, a soft sound, and Mira caught sight of impressively white teeth.

"I hope," Bao-Dur said to her, "that you haven't popped too many on my account."

Mira shrugged. "You're not really a headache-causing kinda guy. You're... a little baffling, sometimes, but not seriously painful."

"Really? Baffling?"

"Well, you are a Jedi, and the highest-ranking one in the whole group of us, at that. You're kind of entitled to it."

"Thanks."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that or anything. I guess. Maybe there is."

"And you say I'm baffling?"

Mira suppressed a smile. Bao-Dur grinned. The following silence was not terribly uncomfortable.

"So, is that all you wanted to see me for?"

"I think that covers it. But if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Funny thing about that. You move around a lot more these days."

"Well, I'll know where to find you, then."

Mira nodded, and walked back to her Mira Zone, where infuriatingly calm Zabraks were still not allowed.Reasonably sane ones, though, she thought, might stand a chance.

The ship rumbled. Mira steadied herself against the doorframe.

They were airborne.