Ship rights
Marai
I was in a pensive mood as we walked on. Had my kindness doomed that poor man? Someone stood in front of us, and he had the triumphant look of someone that knew he was right.
"You landed an hour or so ago. In the Ebon Hawk."
"Yes we did."
"Then this is for you." He held out a chip in a reader. I took it, and my blood ran cold. "You are filing a claim for the ship?"
"What?" Atton snatched the reader from my hands. "You can't take it! That's our ship, not yours!"
"Was I talking to you, jet jockey? I can prove that ship is mine, and the court says I can repossess it. If you refuse, I call the authorities, and they fly combat patrol over your head until we get to court." He smirked. "Around here, that can take decades."
As Atton sputtered, I handed the reader back to him. "That is all well and good, but you must have some sort of proof that it is your ship."
"Her registry number is 34-P7JK. She's got a temperamental flow regulator in the portside engine, and her hyper drive has tuners that won't stay aligned. Her turrets are good for long range, but they refuse to track fast enough on close ranged fast targets." He enumerated the secret compartments, all five of them.
"So that was how Visas got aboard unnoticed." I murmured.
"Wait a minute!" Atton looked at me as if I were stealing his dessert. "He could have found out about all of that from somewhere else. That doesn't prove he owned her. Maybe he sold her or lost her gambling! I think he's skifting us."
"Dream on punk." He looked back at me. "She was stolen almost ten years ago now, right before the Jedi Civil War. I heard some Exchange big wig named Davik Kang had bought her about seven years ago, but Taris got blasted before I could get there. But I don't have to chase her anymore, do I? Give her up or see me in court."
"Could we buy her? Rent her?"
"Lady you haven't got enough credits to get a test flight. That ship is one of the fastest in the Galaxy, and she's worth her weight in spice."
I sighed. "All right, you can take possession tomorrow morning."
"What!" Every outburst before this had been merely a summer breeze. This was a squall of hurricane proportions. Atton glared at me. "She's my ship! Well, she's your ship that I fly..."
"Can it, pilot. The bosses are trying to have a conversation." He looked back at me. "You aren't going to steal her again?"
"No."
He smiled, and suddenly I found I liked him. "Name's Ratrin Vhek. Once I've checked her out, come and see me. I would be glad to carry you to your next destination if you leave before sunset tomorrow."
"I will try to be done with what we must do by then."
As he strode away, the Handmaiden came closer. "Are you sure you wish to do this? You have taken our seven-day deadline and shortened it to but one. We cannot guarantee that we will find the Jedi master in that short a time. If we do not, we will be stranded here."
"We cannot just steal it from him." I replied meekly. "I will find a way."
"Find a way?" Atton laughed raggedly. "I can put a round in his back from here and no one will know we shot him!"
"Atton, restraint is the key." She said piously. "Besides if pain is what you wish to cause there is a neck strike that will incapacitate him in blinding pain for a week if properly done."
He grinned. "Point taken. Will you administer it or shall I?"
"Play nice, children." I admonished.
Confrontation
Mira
I watched her through my scope. If I were like the rest of the lowlifes in the guild, one touch would have spread her head all over the landscape. Most Jedi I remembered were old toothless relics spouting peace and love. She looked... almost cute. The Jedi had definitely raised their standards.
"I just hope it's me that takes you." I whispered. "It would be a pity to blow you to hell instead."
MY wrist control tingled, and I looked down my back trail. There was a darker blot of shadows there. "Hanharr. I thought I smelled something more rank than normal. I told you before. Hunt your own targets, not mine. And stop following me or I will get nasty."
"You are my prey, female. Always."
"Remember the truce? Until we bag the Jedi, no one gets to kill another
Bounty Hunter. I know living around the Hutt has burned out what little mind you have, but have you lost it all?"
"Maybe I forget truce. Become a mad claw again. Seeing you die by centimeters will make me happy before I die." He took a step and there was a little flash in front of him.
"Yeah, maybe you take one step too many, and the mines in that box you're in all go off. I haven't threatened you, but you can't keep your mouth shut about how much you want me dead." I lifted the controller on my left wrist. "If I press this, you're a splotch on the pavement, and no one will even think it was anything but self defense."
"Like the life debt-"
"Damn you I don't care about your life debt. If I had known you would have gone so crazy over it I would have left you in that hole!"
"Then you make mistake. The stupid make only one mistake on my world. I can smell your fear stink from here."
"Of course I'm afraid you moron! If I trigger all those mines the rockets in my launcher might go up too! I don't want to see you dead, but I will if you push it one more time. But getting killed along with you is not part of the bargain if I can avoid it." I looked at him bleakly. "But if I have to die to escape, I will. I will not let you put me in shackles."
I think if he could have guaranteed taking me with him he would have charged. He backed away. "It is not time for you to enter the Shadowlands yet, female. But when you do it will be my hands around your throat, looking into your eyes as you die." He backed away.
I took out my climbing line rigged a squib, and abseiled down the wall as fast as I could. I would have to contemplate killing that big shag rug. I just wasn't looking forward to it.
Whispers in the void
Marai
I was trying to figure what to do about a ship, when suddenly I felt something.
Hunger. Never fed, never nurtured, the cries of thousand that died every day on this planet just nature taking it's course, but here they could almost speak.
Again Kreia was there. "Your thoughts are disturbed. Even if I were half the galaxy away I could hear such a cry."
"What is it?" I asked mentally.
"If you stripped all of the metal and manmade things from it, this is what would remain on Nar Shaddaa. It is the real Nar Shaddaa. The hopes dreams and agonies of everyone that lives or has lived here."
"I understand that it is alive. But it feels so... desperate."
"Considering all of the damage that had been done before we met, I am surprised you can feel it at all. As for desperation why does that surprise you? From the first this has been a desperate place. Those who came here were not looking for paradise; they came here because there was no alternative. Either work here or die. Those descended from them know nothing but that despair, every new life merely adds to it."
"Can it be healed?"
She chuckled. "You might as well try to heal a star about to go supernova, or put a bandage on the galaxy. But at the right time and the right place, with the Force directed in just the right manner, such manipulation is possible. But it is like unto cutting a diamond. There is the one point in its matrix where you must strike. If you chose wrong, the crystal lays shattered and worthless. If you chose right, the echoes of your act spreads like ripples in a pond, touching the entire mass, and making the cheap stone a work of beauty and art."
"I am not interested in controlling or manipulating!"
"Are you so blind? Even placing a simple bandage on a wound is an act of manipulation. Cleansing the germs from it, sewing it closed, using synthflesh, all are manipulations of what is. Even healing requires that you look at it in perspective.
"Just by existing at this moment, you are manipulating events. What is the old saying of the masters? To stand and do nothing is also an action? Teachers manipulate with the words they say. The example you set manipulates your followers. Every time you fight someone you have influenced hundreds, just as that ripple from a small stone thrown into a pond touches all
"For that matter what can we say of you? Your actions here, aboard the ship, even back to your birth affected others. Now it is your companions, and in them your have awakened them to the truth you believe. The first to fall was the Handmaiden, who betrayed her oath to ask for your guidance. The Seer who would have died gladly at you hand, and now lives only to serve you abjectly. Even Atton and Bao-Dur feel it.
"But come. This is a moment to treasure, and words will merely obscure it."
Marai
I chose a quiet diner, and we ate. I didn't know what to do about the ship, and on top of that, there were the actions of the Exchange. I knew our teachings, and if Zez-Kai Ell were here, he should have done something about it.
So either he was not near the Refugee sector, or he was dead. I could see no other reason for his inaction.
That meant our deadline was gone. We would board the ship, have Ratrin Vhek drop us on Dxun, and relax for a few days before whatever Kavar had planned went down.
Bao-Dur and Manda'lor came back from the dock. Bao-Dur was a little upset that I had given up the ship after all the work he had put into it. Manda'lor was willing to get us to Dxun if necessary. He'd found almost a hundred Mandalorians that had been working as a co-op that were glad to relocate there. But they weren't going to be able to leave until after our original deadline anyway.
Kreia merely smiled, and said 'the Force would provide'.
"I found a place to get fuel for Telos." Atton commented. He had gone for a drink. In the mood I was in I didn't go because I would have dived into the bottle and never come out.
"Oh?" Maybe a bright spot!
"Yeah, one of the locals, Vogga the Hutt controls a lot of tankers, and he buys fuel for his fleet at Sleheryon. For a little taste, he'd send more than they could ever use."
"Somehow I know there is a but to that statement." The Handmaiden was eating in that neat precise manner she had, back straight, small bites, each chewed thoroughly before the next.
"Yeah there is. And it's a doozy. One of the Exchange bigwigs operates out of here. Goto."
"The same Goto Luxa spoke of?"
"Yes. Vogga did something to tick him off, and since then his outbound ships have been pirated on a regular basis. Vogga is like a lot of Hutt, they want to keep their business literally at arm's length. So every ship that picks up a cargo anywhere, where ever it is bound is required to come here for instructions or to report.
"He's tried everything I can think of from what I heard. Fake transponders, different company logos, even different Hutt, but everything that has come into the system in the last four months only leaves to disappear."
"So how do we see him?" I asked.
"There's only one I can think of, but you're not going to like it."
"I am already not liking it. Speak."
"He has a thing for dancing girls, and for some reason he's off Twi-leki ones. He wants anything but Twi-leks. If you can dance, you can get in. Otherwise he won't talk unless you have more credits than we can come up with. Or if you're willing to accept a bounty."
"On who?"
"Who else? Goto eats a plasma round, and Vogga will ship the first shipload of any kind of cargo anywhere in the galaxy on him."
It might almost be worth it, I thought. "No. We will deal with the Refugee sector this evening, and tomorrow afternoon, we will speak with Ratrin Vhek.
"The refugee sector." Atton looked at Bao-Dur, then at Manda'lor. "We will deal with the Refugee sector?" The last was said as if I had said 'we will put out the sun'.
"I believe Zez-Kai Ell must be dead." I said. "Because every fiber of my being screams for me to help them, and he has not. If he is dead, we can leave tomorrow. But I will see this abomination cleaned from the planet if I have to die." I looked at them all. "No one worthy of the title Jedi could stand here and watch this happen. I will not."
"But the Exchange..." Atton's protests died. I do not know what he saw in my face, but he was silent.
"The Exchange is usually smarter than this. There's an old saying in gambling that if you are careful how you shear a Nerf, you can shear him over and over. This idiot in charge is letting them get sick, starving them, and doing nothing that helps them. Even slaves would be treated better." I snarled. Then I looked around the table. "Visas, you are with me. Atton?" I looked at him. "Will you go or would you rather I take some one with the stomach for it?"
I saw him first furious with me, how dare I impugn his manhood. "I'll follow you." He said woodenly.
Visas checked her weapons. We had not found another lightsaber for her, but she was satisfied with a vibro-sword. I stalked toward the entryway to the Refugee berthing. There were guards from the Exchange, but just the look on my own face was sufficient to back them away. I stalked down the ramps from the common refugee section to the Refugee berthing area.
The words used had not described the squalor. Picture three people vying for the same cubic meter of space, multiplied by the hundreds that were packed in like animals headed for the slaughter. I saw one off by himself. Of all he was not pressed in like travelers at rush hour. I went toward him and he waved me away weakly. "Go away." He coughed. "I may be contagious."
"Do you think I care?" I asked. I opened my medpac. I set the thermometer tape on his head. He had a high fever. I touched his tongue, and put the swab in the sensor. Iridian plague. Part of me clenched at the thought. 80 percent exposed catch it, 90 percent who catch it die, even with medical care.
I pulled out the multi-spectrum antibiotic. It would help, but there were no guarantees. "This will ease it." I told him handing him the store of painkillers I had. "But if you are not lucky..."
He chuckled weakly. "My luck is that you came by. If I die, it is just the odds." He picked up a small bundle. "Here. For your trouble."
"But I may have failed!"
"You didn't fail to care." he husked.
I took the bundle, sticking it in my pouch.
"It's nice to know that the old Jedi code means something." Atton quipped
I spun, glaring at him. "I may have saved his life, but even he knows the odds. All I am sure of is I might have eased his passing." I stalked over, poking him in the chest. "I give because others need. Not because it is what the code says. Not because I feel I must. Not even to ease my own conscience! I give because I know in my heart that to pass one like him by and ignore him is the worst sin for one such as I. I went to war to stop people from dying, and all I got out of it was Exile!" I stalked past him.
To the people immured in this hell, my first act was as bright as if I made the sun come out in the evening. They came to me, and as I walked through I heard their pleas. My husband is missing... Someone promised a ship, but hasn't come back... They took my daughter yesterday... I need a job...
I found myself kneeling, and while I made no sound I could feel my heart and soul keening with the loss. Not my loss but theirs impressed on me as I walked through the crowd. Everywhere around me were people with no hope, with no future. I wanted to scream, to fall on my back and die rather than take another second of it. I wanted to empty my purse, the ship's accounts, to roll up my sleeves and give, even knowing it would never be enough.
Visas stood back, and from her I could feel an overwhelming pity. She had been shown this by her master. The blight humanity was on the stars, and she was wondering how I would see the same scene. Atton was just Atton. I might as well have been walking through the market for all the reaction I got.
A hand extended before my face. A cup was in it, and I could smell tea. "It isn't much compared to what you have given. But it is all the thanks we can offer." A voice said.
I knelt, drinking the weak tea. I knew the taste oh so well. You have one tea bag, so you make two cups, both weak, but more than you would have with one strong cup. The man before me was bedraggled, tired, but he had not given up yet. I looked into those eyes, and he leaned forward.
"So many of the social worker types come down here. They can do little, so they run. But you... You felt our pain, knew our suffering as if it were your own." He waved vaguely at the tea. "They never got tea from us, I can tell you that."
"My thanks." I breathed, handing the cup back. He filled it and passed it back. "Hussef." He said. "I am what might be called the leader of our community. You went to Gerial first. We know he has the Iridian plague. We know he may die. But still he tries to stop us from helping even though he is of our community. We push food and drink from outside the quarantine zone we have created. We boil everything he uses in the hopes it does not spread. Yet you walked in, spoke with him, treated him." He looked around, and I could feel his heart breaking. "There is so little we can do, but you have done so much more without even being asked."
"Hush." I said. "I have had my shots, you have not."
"If only we could have a chance." He whispered. "The Serroco on the skyward side of us, the Exchange on the inner side. Both take up all the room they can force, and leave us pinched between."
"Serroco?" I remembered a planet by that name. Malak's forces had smashed it flat when they recaptured it.
"Veterans from their forces." Hussef explained. "With no home to return to, they ended up here."
"I see." The second cup was even weaker than the first, but I was not going to complain. "So the Exchange has taken, what, a third of the space?"
"A bit more than that." He corrected. "Between the Serroco bunch and them over three quarters of the space is held by them."
Neither one needed than much space. I knew this automatically. Yet the refugees caught in the middle were crammed into a quarter of the space. "How do the Serroco and Exchange get along?"
"They have a truce. If they steal from us, it is all right."
I passed the cup back. "Then first I must deal with the Exchange, then with the Serroco." I said.
"You're not-" He flinched back from my gaze.
"I will not stand by and let people be penned in like cattle." I stood stalking across the open area between us and the hatch leading up on the other side. Whoever had chosen this as a place for the refugees had done so with malice aforethought. The way we had come in was the only way in and out. The other ramps merely led to the areas controlled by either the gang or the Veterans, and anyone using them would have to fight their way through.
I was in the mood for a fight.
I took the ramp as a jog, going up and inward. I came to a door, and a pair of Gamorreans looked at me, but did little else. Of course, if I was not wanted, I would have to fight my way past them to escape, so they didn't much care. I returned that lack of interest.
After a time I came to a control room, where once upon a time cargo masters dealt with cargo coming into what was now home to the refugees. Someone had mentioned a name as I forged through the crowd below. Saquesh.
He was a Quarren, and he turned, the tentacles where a human would have had a chin writhed. "I thought I smelled something foul." He said.
"You are Saquesh?" I asked softly.
"The overseer from the Exchange for this region, human. Does that mean anything to you?"
"The Exchange is a blight on the Universe." I said. "But I would leave them be. But you and yours here? Cowards that do not dare attack in the light for fear that even the smallest rodent might defeat them."
"You would be wise to have a care human."
"No, you would be wise to heed me."
"And why should I heed you?" He asked.
"Because I will become your worst nightmare if you do not." I promised. "You will remove yourself from this section of the refugee quarter. You will stop preying on the refugees. If you do not, things will get bloody."
"You threaten the Exchange?"
"I promise grief to all of you here."
"How your race has survived this long is beyond me." He motioned to his guard, and I struck. The Weequay screamed, falling.
"Last chance."
"Guards!" He reached for a weapon.
I had learned long ago that you either trust those with you to do their jobs, or you do not. I trusted Visas, and I was sure she could cover for Atton if it came to that. I cut Saquesh down, and turned. The Gamorreans from the outer room had charged in, but between them, Visas and Atton had taken them all down.
"Well?"
"Top to bottom." I said. "Everyone with an Exchange marker dies." I ordered.
So it was. We killed thirty-five of them, scattering them through the halls like chaff. Along the way we freed almost fifty people held by them. When we came back down the ramp into the refugee settlement, the people were silent.
"Don't go there yet." I ordered.
"But-"
"I have the Serroco to speak to." I snapped. "When I am done, then listen."
The walk cut up and this time I took the left fork. The man guarding their territory would have stopped me, but I was death incarnate, and he wisely let me pass. The Serroco had taken a bit more than a third as reported, and the 100 odd men lounged in a space almost two thousand were crammed into next door. I found their leader lounging back, cleaning his weapon.
"You're either very brave or very stupid to come here." He commented. "I would lay odds on stupid."
"You have a truce with the Exchange. Does it still exist if they are dead?"
"What?" He looked at me as if I had just emplaced a plasma mine between us.
"Do you have a man you trust to always tell the truth?"
"Woman, if I didn't trust all of them that much, I'd be here alone."
"Then send one inward to the Exchange area. Now."
He snorted, signaling a man to him. That man took off. We waited as he did his reconnoiter. When he came back he looked at me with fear in his eyes, then knelt by his commander's side, and whispered urgently.
The commander listened, his face growing grim. "So you killed the Exchange goons. There were only thirty of them-"
"Thirty-five." I snapped back. "Since all they needed was thirty-five to keep you at bay, what chance do you think you have?" I lifted my lightsaber, and the blades shot out. Behind me Visas drew her vibro-sword. "I swear by all the gods if you do not listen and agree, your men die. Here and now, by my hand."
"It's your credit." He said. I had to hand it to him; he was brave.
"The Serroco were some of the bravest men I commanded during the war." I told him. "At Zagosta a third of them died, and well."
"Zagosta?" He snorted. "Marai the bitch is dead. Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Marai Devos." I snapped back. "And the 'bitch' is alive and well, and this bitch is back, and seriously angry with you."
One of the men behind him commented, then froze when I speared him with a furious look. "I commanded your kind at Zagosta, so I know the argot. You think I'm cute when I'm mad? Step up here and say it to my face, and for a second you'll get to see Fraking perfection!"
The commander's eyes went flat, then he leaned back, and without looking back slapped the man off his seat. "Speak your terms."
"You have the perfect fortress if you have half the mind to use it." I snarled at him. "One way in, and a good fire team could hold it against a battalion. A good fire team supported by half a company could hold it against a Corellian Marine Regiment. You have almost two thousand people in the next bay that would pay for you to protect that way in and out, and with every menial job that has gone wanting for the last year, it doesn't sound like much, but it's more than you're making right now."
"Why should they pay us?"
"Because first you keep just the space you have. That still gives them almost three times what they have right now. They pay for that protection. Even if they paid you only a quarter of their earnings, it is more than either of you had before.
"And the Exchange can't come back in unless you let them."
"But they have a lot of men, they can fight us."
"So what?" I asked scornfully. "The Exchange doesn't have mercenaries except when they're fighting, and since Saquesh was skimming, they won't hire them to take you on. They have thugs. The kind that get a thrill out of standing over you and lording it over you because you're smaller. By declaring this entire area yours, the other mercenaries will stay out of it, because no one collects if they are dead. Do you think their thugs will last even a second in a firefight?"
He chuckled. "Maybe a couple of seconds. But it will be the high point of their brief lives."
"Then you will agree?"
"What makes you think they will agree to this?"
"Because your men will occupy and fortify the entrance. Then you and I will go over there, and talk to them."
It was almost that simple. Hussef had a Council, but the idea that they had over a hundred guns protecting them put the Council firmly on my side. The refugees pushed, and got three quarters of the space, which meant the Serroco had to bunch up a little, but the money was enough to calm their nerves. When I handed the Serroco leader a thousand credits, it was merely icing on the cake I had suggested.
The people were celebrating, and I felt much better. It was the best possible solution. Slaughtering the Serroco would have left the refugees defenseless, or even worse because of the weapons would have been in their hands, and the Exchange would have killed anyone that was armed.
I noticed a couple of Twi-lek standing off to the side. All of the Refugees had been human, as had the Serroco troops. I walked over, and one of them saw me. He looked past me at Atton, who was with some of the children, then motioned for me to approach, but did so in such a way that Atton would not see it.
"Much you have done for them." One of them said. "We would have hired them ourselves if the Exchange people you killed had not threatened us. We seek to speak to the Serroco leader now to extend that protection."
"He is over there." I waved toward him and Hussef, who were reminiscing about the war.
"For you this is." The other said. "Do you know what kind of creature that male is?"
I looked over my shoulder at Atton, then back at them. "His name is Atton."
"Yes, he is Atton now, but not then. Those he was with spoke of him. He is a killer in truth and deed." The first one said. "We saw him when he first came to Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War. He was in Sith uniform then."
"I thank you." I said. They nodded then sidled toward the Serroco leader. I stood for a long time watching Atton.
The Truth about Atton
Atton
It was almost dawn when we broke away from the celebration. Marai had been quiet since our return to the Refugee section and I was nervous. She reached the upper level, breathing that special air you only get at dawn. It's almost worth staying up all night to taste that wine like texture.
"It's great to be alive." I said. She was still silent. I looked at her. There was tension flowing from her like icebergs calved from glacier.
"Visas, will you walk over there?" She walked toward where Marai had pointed.
"What is this?"
"Time for the truth about Atton Rand."
"Oh? What truth is that?"
"First, what is your real name?"
I flinched inwardly. "I am Atton Rand."
"Not according to some people I met. They say you came here in Sith uniform."
I started getting mad about it. After all I had done for her... "Yeah I came here. So did a lot of refugees. And if I was in Sith Uniform what does that matter? It was cold and I had to wear something."
"The truth, Atton."
"You can't handle the truth." I snarled. "Is this some kind of half baked
interrogation? Because if it is Jedi or not you don't know what you're doing!" I glared at her. "Why not do one of those Jedi mind tricks and dig it out for yourself?"
"I apologized once, I will not do so again."
"After all I've done for you. I helped you get off Peragus, I flew that ship through a hell you can't imagine and that was before they set the asteroids ablaze! I have been through hell for you and now I get interrogated!
"What gives you the right to ask me anything? Have I asked one question about the war from you? Have I asked how it felt to murder three million people in one shot?
"How could you even sleep after Malachor? Is that why you went back to the Jedi? Because you hoped they'd exonerate you? Or maybe you hoped they'd kill you?" I shook my head. "But you know they wouldn't. You'd go home and they'd pat you on the head-"
"Shut up."
"-and give you a cup of tea-"
"I said shut up!" Her eyes flamed. It's a misnomer to say a short person is in a towering rage, but for a second I saw the Marai Devos that had been.
"You know what I think? What a lot of the survivors of Malachor think? You sanctimonious bastards got what you deserved. All your high and mighty talk of peace and love and you killed almost 2 million of our own troops in one shot.
"Because you lie. Sith, Jedi, it doesn't matter, you're all liars. At least the Sith are more honest about it. They don't save you to put you through three kinds of hell later. While you bastards sat on the ships discussing the Force we were in the mud fighting for our lives."
She took a step toward me, and I backed. I think at that moment, she might have killed me.
"Is that so. Ask a survivor of the battle of Dxun. Ask those few left of the 2nd Marines who fought there. The history books say 75% losses of the first wave. Try closer to eighty. I was there, I saw over 400 of my men blown to hell on that landing. When Firebase Charlie called in Final protective fire there were thirty-five of us in the perimeter. As the cluster bombs dropped, with blaster cannon for time on target, we dove for cover."
She laughed, a dry hollow sound with no humor at all. "You know the prayers every soldier knows. A naval rating prays, 'for what we are about to receive, may we be thankful. A grunt prays, 'let it land on someone else'.
"But the infantry officer prays, 'gods if someone has to die, please have it be anyone but my people'. Thirty-five. When the blast cleared thirty of us were still alive.
"So don't give me the 'you were on the ship' sanctimonious crap. I was there, and of the 1500 men of my unit who landed, of the entire Division they were a part of, 75 walked out alive. I cared about every one of them and when one of my men died I. Gave. A Damn!"
She glared at me. "So talk or walk."
"You won't like it."
"At the moment I don't like you at all."
"I was a deserter."
"From which side."
I laughed. Mine had as little humor as hers. "I fought during both wars, sweet cheeks. I was a fifteen-year-old gung ho kid when I signed up to fight the Mandalorians. That kid was an old man five years later at Malachor. I did what I had to do.
"You were there at Serroco when the Stereb cities were turned into glass craters. Duro when Basilisks rained from the sky. And the Xonin plains of Eves III. Those fires still burn!
"Then Revan came to us after she killed Manda'lor. She pointed out how many had died because of politics. Admiral Quintain may have been bad, but he wasn't the worst of the lot by a long shot. If the Jedi hadn't joined us I would be dead already.
"But that's the rub. Over ten thousand of you but less than two came to help. We knew the Senate was a crock, but why should we stand by the ones that refused to help? Revan, Malak, you. Those were who we would have stood by because you shed blood with us, took casualties with us. When Revan said 'we need to change things' we swore to her in droves."
I spun away, looking at the sky. "Then the Sith teachings started filtering down. But we were still loyal to the spilt blood. When the same Jedi that had refused to help us fought back, we killed them. I got good at it. I taught myself techniques, how to cloud my mind, because as smart as a Jedi is, he can't detect you about to kill him if you're not thinking about it, can he? Sometimes I was so good that I could walk through our headquarters and none of our own Jedi knew I was there, and I wasn't the only one.
"Revan was organizing special anti-Jedi units. Our orders were to capture Jedi wherever we could. We'd hit a planet, and the Jedi with us would aim us in the right direction. We'd hunt them down, put them in stasis cages, and ship them out."
"Where?"
"At first it was to some inhospitable world, where they couldn't escape. But after the first year, I don't know. I'd heard some clues. The Star Forge was one, the other something called Trayas. You see Revan knew one thing. The side with the most Jedi fighting for them was going to win."
"But you're here, and you ran away."
"I just got... tired. I wanted out."
"Why?" Her voice was acid. "Kill enough Jedi?"
"Look who's talking! How many died at Malachor? People who fought alongside you don't have a great life expectancy! Do you even know-"
"Under my direct command over five years 782,941." She snapped. "And as much as you lambaste me for it, almost half of them died at Malachor while I was in a coma."
"So what? You have history, but 90 percent of those that followed you are history because they died where you took them. So don't get all high and mighty with me."
"So why are you telling me this now?"
"Because when I drop on some battlefield I want someone to know who I was and why I died. Even if it is you."
"Why did you leave the Sith?"
I looked back at her. "There was this woman. Nice looker, a Jedi, though I didn't know until later. She had been slipped into our lines, and had been investigating for the Jedi council when I caught her. She told me that Revan or Malak were murdering those Jedi, turning them into parts of a machine, or worse. She said that they were taking anybody that was even remotely Force sensitive, and they were going to end up at the Star Forge or Trayas. That they would be programmed like a machine to be the perfect Jedi killing weapons. She said I would be on their list because I could use the Force, and that was why I was so good at hunting them."
"So what did you do?"
"What do you think I did? I hurt her. But then she did something. Suddenly I was inside her head, feeling her pain, seeing my face like a monster. I hit her." I found myself on my knees, beating my hand against the pavement. "I hit her again and again. For lying to me, for telling me the truth, for making me see what I had become. I killed her because I hated her, and I killed her because I loved her. I hit her until I stopped seeing what was in her mind, and kept hitting her anyway. Because I couldn't beat myself to death!"
I looked up at her, but the disgust I had expected wasn't there. She was impassive, but I felt; what, pity?
"I got a commendation, and a promotion. But I kept hearing her... Feeling her die. I remembered what she'd said. A lot of guys I knew on the special squads had been promoted and sent off for 'special training'. What if she was right? What if I was on someone's little list?
"So I ran. Changed my name, drifted until I met you on Peragus. You reminded me of her. Calm self-assured. Running around in your underwear, but you ruled the place. I felt... Maybe if I helped you... Maybe the screaming would stop, and I could have a decent night's sleep again."
She sighed then put out her hand.
"What, you want to hit me?"
"I want you to stand on your own hind legs and be a man again, Atton. I can't forget what you have done, but I can forgive it."
